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[WP] Archeologists discover statues with incredibly accurate internal organs. Then things get weird.
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"The cave was an extraordinary find, on par with the Rosetta stone or king Tut's tomb. A sea cave on a tiny island in the Mediterranean, so small it doesn't have a name. The cave was filled with statues, hundreds of them in such amazing condition that without radio-dating, they would have been considered fakes.\n\nThe statues themselves were amazing works of art, realistic beyond even the best modern artist's abilities. They dated across a span of several hundred years of archaic Greece, a time sometimes called the age of heroes. Anthropologists debated on why so many statues would show up in such an obscure place, theorizing everything from the existence of a secret artist religion to elaborate hoaxes.\n\nBesides the statues in the cave, a small dwelling place was found relatively undisturbed by time, giving researchers a look into how the people of archaic Greece lived. The skeletal remains of a woman were found there. Analysis revealing that she was beheaded in her sleep. The skull was not located.\n\nAfter several weeks there were small discrepancies that the researchers started to notice. For one, the art doesn't fit in with the time period at all. Classical Greece is famous for its ideal depictions of the human body, and these statues might have fit in with those at a glance, but the subjects depicted were too normal, too realistic, lacking the proper poses, and the expressions on the faces are not heroic, but disgusted or terrified.\n\nOne day, while one of the statues was being removed from the cave, there was an accident. The sling being used to carry the statue broke, dropping the statue of an elderly woman several feet. The statue broke, revealing a detailed internal anatomical structure consistent with a human of the age and sex depicted by the statue.\n\nWithin twenty four hours of this incident being reported, it came out in the press that the cave was indeed an elaborate hoax, the national geographic article about to be published on the find was accidentally deleted, most of the researchers involved in the study were kidnapped by terrorists while vacationing in Egypt and the island the cave was on was removed from google maps. Within a week everyone had forgotten about it, and the only public records of the cave existing were on private servers and in a handful of people's memories. \n\nNow, I'm not saying that a secret UN task force is suppressing information that doesn't fit with their agenda. \n\nI'm also not not saying that.\n\n​\n\n(feedback always appreciated)"
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[WP] In the future, when every child is born they are given a clone, to be their life long slave. The only noticeable difference is the clones have no bellybutton.
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" Chester looked at me tilting the arc welding goggles off, \"What makes you so sure\"? \n \n\nThe straps wrapped around his back were tight and he was loosely tugging at the pullstrings to keep it balanced. \n \n\nInsane. I never believed we would turn it on. \n \n\nA secret set of plans only passed through highly encrypted networks lets you take household junk appliances and electronics and bolt them onto a 3d printer. Need a bellybutton? Hope you have an old VitaMix laying around. \n\n\nOnce you have one you and your clone become two natural born citizens with full society access. \n \n\nHaving the ability to actively have two (or more) natural born citizen licenses is the dream every clone and human have. Highly mutually beneficial - however strictly forbidden and prohibited in all legal markets. Rumors of partnerships up to 14-15 clones are whispered over whiskey late at night, a true system of elites that run the system. \n \n\nThe penalty for being found out was death. \n \n\n\"Please get the towels and tourniquets ready to go\" Chester squirmed and gritted his teeth tightening everything down for the last time, even though there was no more slack in the straps. \n \n\nSurveying the tackle box in front of of me we had everything from the emergency checklist \n \n\n3...2...1..."
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[WP] It has become fashionable among noble families to abandon their children on the doorsteps of poor woodcutters, intentionally offend fairy queens, and other such odd behavior in order to maximize the chances of their children becoming 'chosen ones'.
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"\"Chancellor!\" King Titan proclaimed, \"Tell me the good news!\"\n\nChancellor Weden tried not to cringe at the King's overenthusiastic tone. \"There... is no good news, sire.\"\n\nKing Titan - who'd once been Prince Weasel and had changed his name the moment he'd taken the throne - frowned. \"Then tell me the regular news.\"\n\nWeden thought for a few moments. \"I'm afraid there is no regular news, either, your majesty.\"\n\n\"Just bad news?\"\n\nWeden nodded. \"The worst, sire.\"\n\nKing Titan's expression grew more grave. \"Tell me, then. Is it invasion? War? Warvasion?\"\n\n\"No, sire, I'm afraid it's your children, the ones you sent out to become heroes.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" Titan perked up at this. \"That's right I sent you out to find out how they're doing with their mystical fates and whatnot! So, how many of them are going to save the world?\"\n\n\"None of them, sire,\" Chancellor Weden said.\n\n\"Right, right, you said bad news. How many of them are going to try to overthrow me and take my place?\" King Titan asked warily.\n\n\"None of them, sire,\" Chancellor Weden said.\n\n\"Well, that's good news at least. Wait, if that was the good news then you'd have reported it when I asked about the good news. What's the news, Weden. *What is the news!?*\"\n\n\"They're all dead, your majesty.\" Chancellor Weden said, preemptively ducking behind a statue.\n\n\"Dead!?\" King Titan shouted, throwing his crown at the statue that Weden had hidden behind. \"How can they be dead!?\"\n\n\"Well, sire, it turns out that putting children in dangerous situations is... dangerous.\" Weden managed.\n\n\"But... all of them? I figured at least *one* of them would be a chosen one! Come on, what about Fitz, my eldest? We gave him to that woodcutter?\"\n\nWeden consulted his notes, still behind the shelter of the statue, while a court official whose sole job it was to retrieve the crown when its wearer inevitably threw it at someone did so. \"Ah, yes. It looks like a tree fell on him.\"\n\n\"What about Emily?\" Titan asked. \"We offended the great Queen Mab so that she'd learn fairy magic or something. At least I think that's the excuse I gave, I was pretty drunk at that fairy wedding.\"\n\n\"She died of old age,\" Chancellor Weden said. \"Being shackled to the Wall of Enormous Torment.\"\n\n\"Old age? She was seven!\"\n\n\"Fey time,\" Chancellor Weden said. \"As I continue to remind your regalness, it is not simply an excuse for the fairies of the world to show up late.\"\n\n\"Coulda fooled me,\" King Titan grumbled. \"Fine, fine, what about Eric? We gave him up to be raised by bears.\"\n\n\"Eaten,\" Chancellor Weden, \"by bears.\"\n\n\"Was it at least different bears than the ones we left him with?\"\n\n\"No, sire.\"\n\nKing Titan pondered on his throne while the court crown-retriever put the crown back on his head. \"I don't know what I'm doing wrong,\" he finally said. \"This is how all the stories go. How can it be failing so miserably? I've still got little Wendy to make into a hero, I suppose there's that.\"\n\nChancellor Weden gingerly stepped out from behind the statue, ready to dive back into cover at a moment's notice. \"Sire, have you perhaps considered simply allowing your children to take your place in the ordinary fashion, rather than having them be would-be heroes destined for greatness?\"\n\n\n\"No,\" King Titan said. \"Ever since my grandfather pulled this sword from a stone he had specifically crafted around that sword, our family has taken the throne via divine mandate. Like heroes\"\n\n\"You took the throne by yelling 'DIVINE MANDATE' as loudly as you could from the rooftops.\" Chancellor Weden pointed out.\n\n\"That wasn't me,\" King Titan corrected quickly. \"That was one of our gods, Proclaimios. He just sounds like me, is all. Flattering, really.\"\n\n\"Yes, sire,\" Weden said. \"My point is that your daughter could take the throne in a similar way.\"\n\nKing Titan thought about this for longer than he'd thought about anything, which turned out to be an entire second. \"I have arrived at my decision. Wendy shall be a hero, but this time - *this* time - I have an idea to make it right!\"\n\n\"Dare I ask, your majesty?\"\n\n\"*Polar* bears!\""
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[WP] Two days ago at noon GMT, the richest man in the world died. Yesterday at noon GMT, the new richest man in the world died. Today at noon GMT, the new-new richest man in the world dies.
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"“This is the end.”\n\n“The beginning of the end to this over recycled disaster we call Society.\nPower hungry and Money driven, we stand down, no longer! See you at noon.” She Cheers, unabashed. Sweat beads visible by their shine on her obscured face. This is THE video. We’ve all seen as it interrupts broadcasts around the globe. They are crumbling this structure from the top. \nDay 3; 11:55\nThe air is thick with anticipation. All eyes on the ever present screens. This is a different kind of war. There are no errors here. This is power redistribution. Must be object? Protected little sheeple, that we are. \n11:59:\nHolding our collective breath, we begin to countdown, silently, methodically. This isn’t fear you feel in this crowd, it’s change. \n10 seconds to go. Speakers rise from the ground, reverberations pump through our soles to the beat of our racing hearts. \n It’s Noon. \nOne shot rings out, ear shattering through the speakers. The cheers that follow ring harder than the shot itself. As our freedom floods back into our beings, our own power, concealed by the fear and greed of society. This is the end, the prophesied apocalypse, it is more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. \n\n\n",
"I remember it like it was yesterday, First the leading Tech CEO passed away, then a day later the creator of Microsoft followed by a lucrative investor on the third day...word had spread across the globe that the richest people in the world were dying and everyone was glued to their TV's for the latest death update...i remember it well....\n\n​\n\nWhen it got to the 5th day the world was ready to mourn the loss of the creator of the most popular social networking platform in the world, he held a conference, live on his platform to say his goodbyes.....noon came.......noon went.....he still lived....\n\n​\n\n...That's when we learnt the rumours about the Lizard nation were true.... it started with Mark, then after a few more of the World's elite had mysteriously died over the coming days a few more made themselves known by escaping the cull....Oprah......Donald......Elizabeth III......Rothchild....the Kardashians....\n\n​\n\nThat's when we began the Worldwide hunt..",
"The wintry breeze from the nearby window kissed upon the side of my cheek as I watched the telly. The news was on and was discussing uninteresting events like \"doggy surfing\" and the weather until the \"Breaking News\" banner scrolled across the screen interrupting the normal broadcast of BBC. The news to follow introduced the start to a chain reaction. The CEO of Array, a high-end social network, had suddenly died in his home in Barbados.\n\nJames Norton was considered the wealthiest man on earth. A simple Google search would tell you that his net worth totaled out to a breathtaking one hundred and fifteen billion pounds.\n\nThis did not seem out of the ordinary, however. \"People die every day.\" I thought to myself.\n\nArray promises connections amongst the elite of the world who all possess an account. Most lower class citizens could only dream of acquiring such merit. There is no higher status in civilian life.\n\nThe inner workings of Array are not necessarily described to lower class citizens as they would not truly be able to understand its protocols and procedures. One certainty, however, that is understood universally is the integration process. \n\nOnce one reaches a net worth of a half of a million pounds, Array sends a personal application to be completed. Once sent, the application is either accepted or rejected. If accepted, a chip is placed in the back of the neck to track liquidity and net worth. This information is then posted to a public domain known as Array Cast.\n\n The death of an elite is often unfortunate, but the death of two is very rare. When this very event occurred, heads started to turn. The death of the second elite happened yesterday. Today a third ranking member was found dead at 1:00 PM GMT. The time of death was estimated to be 12:00 GMT. The second ranking member had passed at 12:00 PM GMT. The same occurred with Mr. Norton. A pattern started to emerge.\n\nIt was at this moment that most people were watching the news to attempt to understand the happenings of the past three days. It was at this moment that everyone caught their first glimpse of Liberation. I was standing outside of a bar looking in at the telly when a man with no facial features flashed abruptly on the screen.\n\n\"Good evening. Array and its members have persecuted the lower and middle classes for far too long. The unjust treatment of these classes has caught our attention and will not go unpunished. The purge of the hyper-wealthy has begun. At noon GMT, the next highest ranking member of Array will have a lethal dose of electricity sent to their tracker and will perish.\" Audible gasps could be heard throughout those watching the television. \"Any attempt to remove this device will result in early execution. Thank you and enjoy the rest of your day.\"\n\nI felt the cold, bitter wind slapping me across the face as reality struck colder and harsher. I reached to the back of my neck and felt the node where my chip had been implanted. Not a month had passed since I had joined the high-end social media known as Array as its lowest ranking member. I fell to my knees defeated. I was doomed.\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​",
"\"There goes another one\", I though to myself as I checked my watch. Right on schedule. Let's see who it was today. I clicked on the link to the news article describing the \"incident\" du jour. Some guy named Zygmunt. He was a Polish entertainer of some sort. Looks like it started simple enough. He slipped on a patch of ice while getting into his limousine and banged his head pretty good. An ambulance was called and on the way to the hospital it was sideswiped by a semi that ran a red light. The back door popped open and the gurney he was lying on fell out onto the street, rolled down a hill into a construction site, and plopped down into the foundation where they were pouring concrete. Luckily the operator saw what had happened and quickly pressed the kill switch. Otherwise old Zygmunt would have been buried alive. As he was being helped out of the pit he was stung by a bee. Turns out he was allergic and died on the spot. What a way to go.\n\nOh well, five billion four hundred thousand three hundred and sixty eight days til my wish comes true. That genie sure is getting creative, but he really is a douchebag.\n\nEdit: removed extra \"is\"",
"No one knew what was happening. No one could explain it. By now, it had been five days since the richest man in the world died. And each subsequent day the new richest man had died. \n\nAfter everyone had realised it perhaps wasn’t just coincidence, the richest members of society suddenly became a lot more charitable. Men that I knew personally couldn’t give any less of a damn for the disenfranchised decided overnight to start donating millions to charity. For the first time, everyone was competing to not be the richest. \n\nAnd that’s how it came down to me. Forbes had listed me as within the top 50 last fiscal year, but I never thought I’d suddenly become the richest CEO in the world. It would only be for a few hours, but I was oddly happy to be at the top of the dogpile for once. \n\n“Ma’am. From what we can tell you’re still the richest person.” My personal assistant burst into my office, a worried look on their face. \n\n“It’s alright, Laith.” I smiled comfortingly. “If not today then it’ll be soon. We don’t know when this will stop. It might keep going until everyone is gone. If how’s my time, then it’s my time.”\n\nHe didn’t seem satisfied by my answer, but rather than argue he simply sighed and left my office. \n\nI knew I was being rather nonchalant given the situation, but I would rather be calm than panic in my potential last moments. \n\nAnd so I waited for noon to come. I spent my time finalising my will and writing letters to my friends and loved ones. By the time I had done everything I wanted to do, it was just a few minutes to noon. \n\nI counted the seconds, suddenly wondering how it would happen. Would I just drop dead? Would it be painful or would I even know it happened? Distracted by my thoughts, I didn’t notice when the clock turned to noon. And then to a minute past. \n\n“Boss?” Laith burst back into my office, looking fully expectant to have found my dead body. \n\n“Am I dead yet?” I asked. \n\n“Bill McMarna was just reported dead,” he said. \n\n“McMarna?” My brow furrowed. “I’ve got him beat for net worth by at least five million.”\n\n“I mean, I’m glad you’re still alive but I don’t get it either.” Laith pulled out his phone, presumably to check whether we had gotten my net worth wrong. “The richest man on Earth has died at exactly noon for the past five days.”\n\n“The richest man...” I mumbled to myself before letting out a giggle. \n\n“Boss?” Laith looked up at me quizzically. \n\n“Of course it was McMarna!” I laughed again, perhaps a little hysterically. \n\n“I don’t think I follow...” Laith mumbled. \n\n“I’m the richest woman in the world! Don’t you get it Laith?” I stood up emphatically. “Only the richest man dies! I still don’t get it, but whatever’s happening is finally gonna balance the scales between men and women in the workforce.” ",
"Anthony Harper, CEO. He smiles at the distressed assistant standing in the doorway and replies, \"Don't worry, George. I've taken care of it.\"\n\nNoon comes and goes. Anthony is still alive.\n\nGeorge, relieved and surprised, asks how he did it?\n\n\"Well,\" Anthony says with a proud smile, \"I gave all the money to my parents, and since I'm in their will... Don't look so glum, George. Oh, and pick out a suit. The funeral is this Saturday.\""
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[WP] An uplifting story through the eyes of a pet.
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"The house is bustling! Mommy and grandmama are chatting excitedly as other women, some I reconize, some I don't prepare the house for a party. Not sure what a wedding is really, but it makes mommy and daddy happy so I'm happy too!\n\nDaddy's not home. Something about bad luck. But I can't wait to see him later...\n\nDoor!\n\nDoor!\n\nThe door is opening! \n\nMommy! Daddy! \n\n\"Hey Charlie. Ok, ok, down boy down. \"\n\nThey look so happy! I love my family!"
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[WP] A ghostly man walks into your kitchen and tells you that your time is up. One look tells you that he's no human. You somehow remain calm and ask for a month to tie up some loose ends. Surprisingly, he obliges.
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"One Month\n---------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"You know... your time is up.\", an otherworldly masculine voice echoed in my ears.\n\nI quietly turned around for my eyes to be met with a gray-suited man with a spectral presence. Although I could not explain why, I somehow just knew he was not of the mortal plane. \n\nI quietly continued making my tea and I said, \"Oh well. Such a pity. Would you like some tea?\"\n\nThe man nodded and as the kettle whistled, I poured boiling hot water into the piping hot cups of black tea.\n\n\"Now, how does this work? Do you just take me to the afterlife?\"\n\n\"Well, yes, either with your willingness or with force. I'd prefer it to not be the latter.\"\n\n\"Hmmm... may I ask for some time to tie up some loose ends then?\", I said as my mind was still processing the situation.\n\nThe man pondered for a bit before saying, \"Well, you are quite polite, so I'll give you a month, after which you willingly go with me. That is, unless you end up in an... unpleasant...experience before then.\"\n\n\"Alright, friend. See you in a month's time.\", I said as I extended my hand.\n\n\"See you then and...let's save the handshake for next time,\" he said as he waved before walking through the wall and leaving me alone in my silent home."
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[wp] A seemingly ordinary neighborhood. Except for the local evil overlord's castle that is sandwiched between two ordinary houses.
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"Evil Evan never leaves his evil castle. Ever.\n\nHe is right between two righteous people's houses.\n\nSeen him once or twice with tons of rice inside his castle.\n\nThat is how he lives: he eats his rice inside and peers outside at night to see the righteous people live their lives.\n\nHe is not so bright.\n\n​\n\nEvil Evan plans to rule this land forever.\n\nScheming in that house of his—that massive sore on eyes, it is.\n\nMusic hums from deep within, a sound with bass and lyricless.\n\nThat is how he lives: he eats his rice inside and peers outside at night to see the righteous people live their lives, as plans to sit atop a throne just grows within that sad man's dome, as music drones and drowns the awful sound of Evil Evan's cries.\n\nHe is not so mighty, no.\n\n​\n\nEvil Evan is a fairy tale to most, so very old and gross.\n\nLong ago he lost a war now all his dreams are lost and gone away.\n\nAll his people and his hopes of being a king just eat at his cold brain at night. He sleeps all day and waits 'til moon to rise and shine.\n\nThat is how he lives: he eats his rice inside and peers outside at night to see the righteous people live their lives, as plans to sit atop a throne just grows within that sad man's dome, as music drones and drowns the awful sound of Evil Evan's cries, as dwelling on the past is swelling rage and hate for all he doesn't have (it makes him awful mad); the only thing he has is just an Evil Castle sandwiched right between two righteous people's houses; now the HRA is hounding on the Evil Evan for his Evil Castle—people have been loud about the vile sight that is his Evil Castle.\n\nHe is not so happy.\n\n​\n\nBut I hear he's also pretty ugly, just like his damn house. I gotta see that dumb castle every day on my commute. Ugh.\n\n​\n\n---\n\nThanks for reading! [CC]/feedback always appreciated. I've been working on making my stuff more clear, so if anything was confusing to you, I'd love to know :)\n\nI have more [poems, songs, and stories on my personal subreddit.](/r/scottbeckman)"
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[WP] We found intelligent life in space. We try our best to maintain civilized relations with them. The only problem is that they smell and taste like bacon.
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"David adjusted his cufflinks methodically, for the hundredth time. It was, of course, purely a nervous exercise -- he was about to meet alien lifeforms from a distant star system. They wouldn't draw any conclusions about him based on how well put together his *clothes* were.\n\nHe had reason to be nervous, though -- initial contacts with the aliens had not gone well. It didn't help that they smelled -- and reportedly, tasted -- like the most universally popular food on Earth, namely bacon. The bottom line was that the scent of the aliens made most people hungry, even to the point of salivating, and the aliens seemed to be able to pick up on that reaction. It made them understandably nervous. Luckily, he happened to be especially qualified to put these particular aliens at ease.\n\nHe waited almost an hour before the door at the opposite end of the meeting chamber opened, and the alien entered -- it was a massive, sluglike being with several nimble tendrils sprouting from its body instead of limbs, and it used them interchangeably for locomotion and manual tasks. David's nostrils filled with the natural odor of the creature that so resembled that of hot, crispy bacon. It approached him cautiously, eyestalks scanning him with wary suspicion, then seemed to relax as it noted his lack of predatory interest in it. \n\nMimicking the human gesture of greeting, the alien tentatively extended a tendril to him, which he grasped and shook in a warm but gentle fashion.\n\n\"Greetings.\" the alien intoned through the mechanical translator strapped to its amorphous bulk.\n\n\"Shalom.\" David replied."
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[WP] "Well, come on!" You say, excited to hear what your future-self has to say. "What am I famous for?" The future-you stares at the floor with a look of embarrassment and shame on their face. "Well..."
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"Alfred sits there, nibbling his fingers as the machine rattles. He’s been waiting for this moment for years, and when a blue light finally appears, his eyes widen. It’s actually happening. He’s *actually* bringing his future self back into the past!\n\t\n*And they called me crazy,* he thinks. *This device, it’ll make me famous! Rich! That’ll show all those doubters.*\n\t\nThe light fades and Alfred jumps up. Standing in front of him’s…well…nothing. The machine worked, and screen’s flashing *SUCCESS,* but he’s alone. At least, that’s what he thinks before a low murmuring makes him bend down, where he sees a tiny grasshopper.\n\t\nHis face sags as he socks the machine. “Hunk of junk!”\n\t\n“*No, it worked,*” a voice whispers.\n\t\nWhen he looks back down, the grasshopper’s standing straight up, staring at him. Its arms are crossed and it’s leaning against the side of the machine, head aimed toward the ground. It looks kinda…embarrassed.\n\t\n“You…you can talk?”\n\t\n“*Well, duh. I’m you.*”\n\t\n“But you’re…”\n\t\n“*A grasshopper. Great. Glad to seen I was a genius back then, too.*”\n\t\nAlfred sits on the ground now, leaning as close to the grasshopper as he can. “Are you robotic?”\n\t\n“*Yeah,*” it says.\n\t\n“Well, how did this happen? Aren’t I famous?”\n\t\nThe grasshopper looks at the ground, shame leaking off its face. “*Yeah. So famous they shoved you inside this body because they didn’t want you inventing anymore.*”\n\t\n“What?”\n\t\n“*Everything we invent hurts the world. It causes a war, or changes society too rapidly. We almost brought the world to an end once and have more bodies on our conscience than we can imagine.*”\n\t\nHe doesn’t know what to say. That’s not…the stuff he invents isn’t bad, is it? No, it’s not. He just wants to push the world forward, wants to help the world. “That doesn’t make any sense.”\n\t\n“*It doesn’t to me, either. People will turn anything revolutionary into a weapon. This little device? First it’ll be used to build armies. Kids will be rounded up, their future selves will be yanked back, and bam—you got soldiers. Eventually it’ll be reverse engineered to bring back past selves and soon you’ll have dictators in power for hundreds of years. This was before Cyborgs, and is just one of our many inventions. Think of how devastating it is.*”\n\t\n“Cyborgs?”\n\t\n“*Melding human with machine, extending life for thousands of years. Changed the world. I never stopped inventing, which led to endless destruction. The newest generation was smart enough to tame me, though, putting me in this body.*”\n\t\nHe rests his head against his machine as a tear streams down his face. This can’t…it can’t be true. “I don’t want to be a villain.”\n\t\n“*Want my advice, then? Send me back and destroy this machine. Focus on inventing smaller and simpler things. Don’t make the same mistake I did.*”\n\t\nAlfred thinks for a few minutes before standing up and pressing the button. He watches his future self disappear before immediately grabbing his wrench. Years of hard work down the drain. Years of hard work about to be smashed to pieces.\n\t\nWith a sigh, he swings the wrench.\n***\nIf you like this story, check out my sub /r/LonghandWriter or my [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BryceBealWriter?lang=en)"
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[WP] Humanity sent the Voyager satellite into the deep reaches of space with the hope of introducing ourselves to any intelligent species who might find it. The last thing anyone expected was a reply.
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"Terry ran down the long corridor, passing offices as he went by. In his hand was a sheet of paper, that crumpled from the wind created by his running. His face had a look of fear and determination, and sweat was starting to cover his forehead. He reached the last door, and bursted in without knocking. An older man sat behind a giant executive desk, he shot a look at Terry that said why are you disturbing me.\n\nTerry was panting, barely able to speak. As he tried to calm his heart rate the older man stood up. He was tall, with thinning white hair, and clean shaven. He wore thin rimmed glasses that were square, and his shirt was a simple white button down. His tie was red, because he read in a magazine that it gave the impression of power to people. He made his way to Terry and placed a hand on his shoulder. His eyes rested on the paper that Terry had brought.\n\nTerry shot his hand up, the paper was folded over and couldnt be read. The man raised it a little and read what it said. **WE ARE COMING.** is all it said. He stared at it for a while and then looked to Terry. “What is this?” His voice was one of authority. He had read in a book that speaking from your chest gave a tone of authority and he used it ever since. \n\nTerry had calmed down and was able to form words, “Voyager, there was a reply to Voyager.” Terry looked at the man and then at the paper. He nodded towards it as if the man didnt know what he was talking about. The man took the paper and returned to his desk. He fell into the chair while holding the paper in front of him. With his other hand he grabbed a cigarette off his desk and placed the butt in his mouth. He grabbed the lighter next to the pack and lit it, he dragged on it for a second or two and then exhaled sharply. \n\n“Do we know why they are coming?” He said simply.\n\nTerry looked at him fearfully, “No idea Director, that was the only thing they said.”\n\nThe director read the paper again. Bold words for an innocent species. No this was a warning, not a gesture. **WE ARE COMING.** He stared at the words for a long while before dismissing Terry. The cigarette forgotten until the embers burned his fingers. He snubbed it out on the ashtray and picked up the phone. \n\nIt rang only once before a man picked up. \n\n“Please tell the President to get on the phone. This is not a drill nor a joke.”\n\n\nThe ship was massive, larger than any thing on earth. It was first spotted by NASA passing Saturn, and in 2 days had made it to Mars. The governments tried to keep it quiet but it wasnt long before the people at home with a telescope saw it and it made headlines. \n\n“We have breaking news here at CNN, it seems a father and his daughter spotted a large craft just outside of our moon. We have the Vice president on the line to discuss this and we expect The President to give a press release here soon. Vice President, I guess the biggest question people have is who are they and what do they want.”\n\n“Thank you, to answer both of your questions, the answer is we dont know. They found our Voyager craft and used that to find our location. What we dont want is for people to panic. We do not know why they are here and at this point we have to give them a benefit of a doubt. We ask the people of America to stay calm in this situation and stay tuned to all news channels for updates.”\n\nThe screen turned off abruptly, and a man threw a remote down. He looked to the others beside him, “Earth is filled with resources we need, and from the looks of it they have no way of defending themselves from us. We will try to negotiate but if that fails we will have to take other measures.”\n\nThe others nodded in agreement and the man that spoke looked out a window. Earth shined brightly, and he stared at it. This was their new home and the coexistence they seeked would rely entirely on the people of Earth; whether it be peaceful or violent."
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[WP] Genies inhabit not just dusty ancient arabian oil lamps, but any manmade light-emitting object that fits within the human concept of a "lamp". Write a documentary about the evolution of genie housing across time--past, present and future--and how it has affected their lifestyles.
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"Genies have always lived amongst us. They were discovered by man, well before the oil lamp was invented. At first, they were forest spirits, much like the dryads. They lived in trees, but exclusively in the sap. Unlike the dryads, they weren’t shy. Simply touching a tree would reveal them. They liked men and granted wishes without any drawbacks. This had led to an increase of brain matter when man wished for easier ways to hunt. At first, man used flint tools. But soon these stone tools were used to fell the trees the genies lived in. These trees were used to fashion better tools and as fuel for campfires. This enraged the genies. They started many wildfires in the human camps. This why to this day we denote highly flammable liquids as “spirits”. That first wish had led man to become highly intelligent. It was able to fashion its own destiny. Requiring no more help from the spirits, genies were forgotten. They evolved and continued to torment man by starting to inhabit all sorts of flammable liquid fuels.\n\nAround 4500 BC, the oil lamp was invented. The first lamps were made of clay or stone. The oil saturated the inner layer, making sure the genies house was no longer destroyed. The genies thrived once more. However, because of the massive destruction of their dwellings in the past, they no longer sought contact with mankind. \n\nIt wasn’t until the rise of the Arab empire that elaborate metal lamps were made. These lamps had no layer saturated with oil, leaving only the lowest of genies to dwell these lamps. One such lamp was lost in the desert, only to be unearthed 256 years later. A boy named Asran Al-Aqwi found it and rubbed it to clean it. Because the genie was so happy that he finally had someone to talk to, he granted the boy a wish. Asran wished for an oasis, allowing him and his family to abandon their nomadic perilous lifestyle. The oasis was a green gem in the desert. Unfortunately, it quickly became known to traders who used it to quench their and their camels thirst. Word spread, and the maharaja became aware of this green pasture in his kingdom. He claimed it for his own by beheading Asrans family. Asran was furious and cursed the genie. The genie claimed that he couldn’t have foreseen this. The discussion became spiteful: Asran blaming the genie for the loss of his family, the genie blaming all of mankind to be a scourge of his kind. Old wounds and memories surfaced. The genie became malevolent. To settle the argument, the genie granted Asran two more wishes. But these wishes ended up backfiring on intent.\n\nHis second wish was to kill the maharajah and his family. An eye for an eye. The maharajah and the family died. Several telltale clues linking Asran to these deaths were found in the palace. Asran became a fugitive. After 2 years of being hunted down, he was fed up with it. He wanted a calm life, he wanted to be left alone. Asran used his third wish: he wanted solitude. He did not want to be recognized anymore. He wanted some peace and quiet. The genie teleported him to the middle of the desert without any food or clothes. Asrans skin burned and blistered in the desert sun, he froze during the nights and died from starvation. It is the history of Asran that gave way to the rumors of genies being malevolent tricksters.\n\nThe genies continued burning down the dwellings of men. But men grew smarter. Glass was invented, and the dangerous flame of the oil lamp became contained. The genies had to adapt: suddenly they were forced to live in a see-through house. No more privacy. Only the most translucent of their kind thrived, others tried to black out the glass. Some grew mad of this lack of privacy. These individuals used their powers to trip humans, making them slightly clumsier. Many houses were incinerated due to kerosene lamps falling to the floor and dousing floors, tapestry and curtains in fuel and flames. Man had tamed the flame with glass, but not the spirit.\n\nIn an effort to make lighting safer, the gas light was invented. Genies saw in horror how the closely related swamp wisp, which had hidden in other gasses when swamps were drained and converted to farmland, were helplessly burned en masse. Many genies became refugees yet again. They went underground. Some hid in natural occurring oil reserves, others adapted and started to live in rare metals, a surrounding they were accustomed to after the Arab period. They hid and prospered once more. \n\nBut man industrialized further. Vast quantities of oil were gathered. Even the most remote pockets were found, exploited and burned. The genies in rare metals weren’t safe either when the arc lamp, mercury vapor lamp and the light bulb were invented. Their solid houses were superheated and electrified, angering them even further. A lot of them ended up in stinking landfills when their lamps expired. They could not have ventured further from the once lush forests they came from.\n\nOne attempt of two genies to eradicate mankind is noteworthy. One genie living in wax and the other living in tungsten were united in a lava lamp. They combined their power on the closest human, resulting in the invention of lysergic acid diethylamide, commonly known as LSD or acid. Their idea was to halt to progress of mankind by inducing psychedelic trips, halting their focus and creating mental disorders. The molecule did not prove to be addictive by itself, halting their evil plot.\n\nCurrently genies are taking back to the trees they first inhabited. They still suffer from the first wish they granted, and how it backfired upon them, altering mankind into a plague they must endure. They have become elusive and are rarely seen. Maybe if you are lucky, you can still find one of these magnificent creatures in an old lamp. Do not ask for wishes but take it outdoors and look for an uninhabited tree. Allow it to move, and recycle the lamp, or keep it as a memento of a rare encounter. These creatures have granted us wisdom, let’s use it wisely."
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[WP] While mysterious unsolved deaths are not unheard of, they are usually thought of as isolated events. However, a new advancement in neuroscience has yielded the ability to read the last few seconds of someone's internal monologue in plain text. A pattern is emerging.
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"\"Is Neuro-drive charged and set?\" I call through the small mic on my lapel as I work with my team to secure the body on the table. I place a small head gear on the corpse and await a response. \n\n\"Neuro-drive ready...\" The sound comes over the tanoy in the room. I nod to no one in particular but make a short signal to the team. \n\n\"Gear is secured. Exiting room now.\" I call back in response. \n\nI walk back to the viewing room overlooking the operating theatre. It hadn't been renamed to what it currently does at the moment, but everyone in the building knew this was the Mind room, ever since it was great leaps in science were taken and people's last internal thoughts could be extracted. We were the first station to test it out and probably going to be the last. The public release has been delayed for the moment because of this. \n\n\"Locating memory banks 1 through 10. Secured and diving now.\" Sundra called from the desk. \n\nI cross my arms and stand next to the Detective Hanson. I was desperately hoping that whatever it is we had found was simply an aberration. Maybe it is something that we all consider when we die. Maybe it's what we see at the end. I bite my lip and wait for the audio feedback and the audio-to-text translation to show on the large monitor in front of us. \n\n>*...Initialising...* \n>*I guess I'm all alone for real this time. Still can't believe she left me. Bitch. Ah well. I guess I have the wine to myself and Georgie. As long as she doesn't pee all over the place. I will probably need to buy some dog food tomorrow. Was that...? That was a noise. It better not be her again...* \n>\n>*...Wait...*\n>\n>*What is that? Wait... Wait... Are those... eyes?*\n>\n>*...Transmission lost...*\n\n\"Similar to all the other cases, by my reckoning...\" Sundra says after a few minutes and it's only then I am aware that I've been holding my breath. \n\nI don't say anything. I turn to face the detective who seems to be scribbling something into his notepad. This body is the fifth body we have checked today and they all keep mentioning seeing eyes. \n\n\"It still doesn't tell us much...\" The man says, his deep voice sounding troubled. \n\n\"What could they be seeing at their last moments?\" Sundra asks tentively. She looks visibly shaken. \n\n\"I don't know. Whatever it is, it killed them. This bodies have been dead for years now. I say we wait till the next *unnatural* death and move with that. That's the only sensible thing at this point.\" I say with some confidence. \n\nI am spooked but I don't feel to admit it in front of my colleague and the detective. I am choosing to hold strong to the belief that it probably was just a weird thing back in the past. \n\n\"That is fair. I will go back and report this and see what happens from there.\" The detective says and begins to exit the room. \n\n\"I'll speak to the higher ups and delay the release a bit further until we have something a bit more concrete.\" I tell him as he exits and he only nods before the door closes. \n\nI really do hope this is not an actual issue. \n\n---\n\n/r/EvenAsIWrite for more stories. ",
" \n\n\\[...\n\n\\> Walk\n\n\\> Walk\n\n\\> Unexpected stimulus\n\n\\> Shield retina\n\n\\> Open eyes\n\n\\> Stereocilia information translated: (English) Come, child, be free to wander.\n\n\\> Raise in external temperature noted … sweat distributed\n\n\\> Adrenaline released\n\n\\> Source of stimulus approaching\n\n\\> Mental note: ‘tall as hell’\n\n\\> Mental note: ‘Say something, you coward’\n\n\\> Vocal output: (English) Hey, buddy, you\n\n\\> Grammatical error\n\n\\> Stereocilia information corrupted\n\n\\> Pain detected - Inner Ear\n\n\\> ‘Fight or Flight’ engaged\n\n\\> Mental note: ‘Oh God, what is that?’\n\n\\> Turn to walk\n\n\\> Re-adjust iris size\n\n\\> Mental note: ‘Why’s it so dark?’\n\n\\> Stereocilia information corrupted\n\n\\> Pain detected - Inner Ear\n\n\\> Moisture detected - Outer Ear\n\n\\> Mental note: ‘Help help help help help’\n\n\\> Run\n\n\\> Retina information translated: Humanoid dim shape emerging from pine trees covered in vines\n\n\\> Retina information translated: Blade\n\n\\> Mental note: ‘Knife’\n\n\\> Stereocilia information corrupted\n\n\\> Numbness detected - Inner Ear\n\n\\> Run\n\n\\> Pain detected - Lower Back\n\n\\> Run ---- impossible\n\n\\> Semicircular canals information translated: ‘Prone’\n\n\\> Identify moisture on outer ear\n\n\\> Digit nerve information translated: ‘Not water’\n\n\\> Olfactory information translated: ‘Iron’\n\n\\> Moisture identified: Blood\n\n\\> Pain detected - Upper Back\n\n\\> Cry\n\n\\> Stereocilia information corrupted\n\n\\> Pain detected - Back of neck\n\n\\> Numbness detected - Torso and limbs\n\n\\> Death imminent\n\n\\> Run unconscious thought path\n\n\\> Dream\n\n\\> Memory code: ‘Welcome’\n\n\\> End Process\n\n\\]\n\n“This is the fifteenth time this year, Colonel,” Charles said with a worried tremble in his voice. “That same memory code every time.”\n\nCharles served five years with the new FBI project to review memories of the deceased in high profile cases. As a forensic computer technician, he wasn’t sure of most of the science that powered the ‘Postmortem Neural Interpretation System (name subject to change)’. All he really knew, from what he gathered from his briefing and the politics around his department, was that he shouldn’t know anything other than how to run it and that it was reverse-engineered from stolen MI:6 equipment. However, his lack of knowledge over the background of his software made room for his expertise in handling the system and tying together information from across lines and lines of unending data for each case.\n\nHis knack for data analysis served well in interpreting all the information retrieved from the victims of the terrorist bombings in Sacramento and Austin. That was in his first year during the Crisis of the Federation, but things had slowed down since then. No one was rioting, assassination slowed and the FBI budget diminished from how the crisis hemorrhaged federal funds. For everyone else, this change signified peace and a better future for the nation. For Charles Hughes, this change made his job boring and took away the sense of pride he had from his hero complex. So, with increasingly empty days, he began to study the data out of boredom. Now, he was on the verge of discovery.\n\n“Fifteenth time this year what?” Special Agent Stefferson asked -- people had taken to calling him by his rank from before his shift in career path.\n\n“The code,” Charles answered in briefness.\n\n“What are you talking about, Hughes? Is this another one of your conspiracy ideas?\"\n\n“It’s not a conspiracy, and I don’t think this should leave this room until I’m ready to take it higher.”\n\n“Take it higher? What the hell are you talking about, boy?”\n\n“This same memory code is made in the dream state before the deaths of seventy-four people, sir,” Charles murmured out, pointing at the screen where the line ‘> Memory code: ‘Welcome’’ blinked idly in its selection.\n\n“So? That’s a coincidence. You’re just looking for something to pass the time. I understand. The lack of excitement is tangible, but we’re in an era of nothing now. The cure for cancer was leaked during the crisis for Christ's sake. Just--”\n\n“Sir, this isn’t mere coincidence. Our project isn’t even utilized half the time, federal investigations not linked to drug trafficking are minimal, and the legislation is getting stricter on our procedures.”\n\n“Fifteen cases a year is not cause for concern.”\n\n“Fifteen out of twenty-nine unsolved homicide cases all based in the states of New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania just this year -- up from last year. That’s no concern?”\n\n“Watch your tone, Hughes. I still outrank you, no matter how your department head praises you,” Stefferson answered with his prideful grumble gained from years of old age.\n\nCharles hung his head low to hide the frustration blatantly painted across his face. Again, bureaucracy got in the way of his investigation and prevented anything from being done.\n\n“I’m not authorizing more resources be put to this investigation, Hughes. Work with what you have,” Stefferson said with mocking eyes as he looked down at the forensic technician in his swivel chair.\n\nFixing his jacket, Special Agent Stefferson left the room at a brisk pace, eager to continue his avoidance of Charles for the next five months as he had previously been so successful with.\n\nCharles sat alone again, scratching at his overgrown beard and taking note of its need for trimming.\n\n\\[...\n\n\\>Mental note: ‘Trim beard’\n\n...\\]\n\n… And that’s all that Special Agent Stefferson can corroborate.",
"In my experience, a *real* unsolved death is a unicorn; mostly they're just deaths the surviving family won't accept. A 3-year-old dies at a Christmas party because the family forgot to watch her closely. A successful husband commits suicide. Heck, someone even dies because they ate some bad tuna. There are many reasons to be in denial about the cause of death of a loved one. But there aren't many cases in which we can't know the true cause of death if we have a body. \n\nWhen we don't have a body, they are mostly *missing persons* cases. We *assume* they are dead, because of the harsh world we live in. Ironically, in these cases, reality is more acceptable to the survivors. Funny that we'd rather a loved one be officially dead than suffer some embarrassing end. \n\nHowever, case 4239 was one of those extremely rare cases. I opened it up and immediately knew it would be. Three strangers with no real connections (two of them shared a common 7th cousin twice removed) dying in the middle of the ocean...within a 2 mile radius of each other. \n\nThey weren't even all fisherman. Joshua Wilkes had gone out to meditate, because he died slumped over a journal in which he was recording his mid-life crisis. \n\nMike Snowden was deep-sea fishing when he died, and Jake Black's body was found at the bottom of ocean with an hour left in the scuba tank, so he didn't die of anything oxygen related. Not even the bends. \n\nNone of them showed signs of struggle. On the contrary, they showed signs of complete comfort. Almost as if they hit a button and just turned off, rather than died. \n\nThe STE (self-talk extraction) created more questions than answers. And besides the relative closeness in geography, was the only other tie these three had. They all said the same thing, at almost exactly the same time, just before they died: \"I'm saved.\"\n\nI ruled out religious connotations when I found the fisherman had formerly been a seminary graduate but then asked to be excommunicated from the church when the scandals of child abuse came out. He hadn't stepped into a chapel since, and he had quit saying prayers years ago, according to his live-in girlfriend. \n\nMy retired partner said when I told him about the case, \"When you're young, you believe in things you can't see, probably because you can't see much at all. Then you see quite a bit and by the time you're an adult, you stop believing in the unseen.\" \n\nHe scratched his chin and put his cup of coffee down on the ring stained table in his living room. Then he continued. \n\n\"As I get older, I start to feel things that I *can't* see, no matter how hard I try an' look,\" he said.\n\n\"Are you saying you believe in magic?\" I mocked him. It almost felt like old times again.\n\nExcept he didn't laugh. Instead, he looked me in the eyes and said, \"I guess you just gotta be there to understand it. You'll get there, detective.\" \n\nThere it was. The oft repeated line he told me as a \"trainee\". \"You'll get there detective.\"\n\nFor now, I needed to get back out on the water. See if I could find anymore clues at the common point of the radius. Besides, there's just something about floating that calms my nerves. \n\nI hadn't been out in the water more than an hour before a fishing boat came up on the scene. \n\n\"Hey there,\" said the man. \n\nHe was strikingly handsome. Something about him didn't sit well with me. Maybe it was because he didn't have the leathery skin of a fisherman, and yet the boat seemed to have spent many years on the water. \n\n\"What are you doing out here?\" I asked, coming off gruff on purpose. This was a crime scene after all. Or it used to be. \n\n\"My instrumentation's all screwed up. I was wondering if you could point me to harbor,\" he replied. \n\nA fisherman would know how to navigate without instruments. This guy was a fraud. Perhaps a stolen boat. Maybe a person of interest in this very case. Either way, he was either a really stupid criminal or he was playing dumb because he'd know I was a detective and would understand a fisherman's training. \n\nSo I pointed him the wrong way. \n\n\"It's that way. Just be careful because the waves are getting a little choppy.\" \n\nHe paused.\n\n\"Thank you. I'm saved.\"\n\nHe turned to go back into the standing shelter. I called to him. \n\n\"Hey, you know what? I'm about to head in, why don't I follow you so I can honk at you if you start going the wrong way?\"\n\nHe poked his head back out. \n\n\"Why don't you just go on ahead and I'll follow you? That way we don't have any corrections to make,\" he said. \n\nHe called my bluff. Who knew what he'd do if he was behind me? Plus, I couldn't head a different way than I just told him. I'm not a gambling man, but I had to call or fold. \n\n\"Good idea. I'll start since I'm pointed the right way now. You go ahead and turn around and catch up,\" I said. \n\nIt was beginning to get dark. We had been cruising for 45 minutes now and the harbor, nor the coast, wasn't any closer. Yet the man hadn't shown any signs of alarm or desire to change course. \n\nI began to feel something I had never felt before, like the whole ocean was conspiring against me and had laid this trap. The fisherman wasn't the fisherman at all, he was the bait. I remembered what my old partner had said about feeling things you can't see. \n\nI had to act fast. \n\nI sped the boat up and looked in the rear view mirror. The man sped up as well. \n\nI swear the boat was going faster than I had ever felt it. Almost like it was slipping along the surface of the water, rather than pushing through literal tons of it. And that's when I noticed it in front of me. \n\nIt was dark now, but still unmistakeable. The water *was* sucking my boat in toward a gaping hole in the middle of the pacific ocean, probably 50 yards in diameter. It was odd because there was no sound of crashing water below the hole, which told me that it went on for a very, very long time. I swear I saw a faint red glow from the hole, but I didn't spend any time staring into it. I gripped the wheel and pulled right as hard as I could. \n\nThe boat was designed for ocean chases, so it was fast and very responsive. It turned quickly and smoothly and I still barely managed to dodge the rim of the hole. I pulled away and could here the engines scream in pain as they fought the pull of the hole. \n\nI watched the fisherman go toward the hole as if he didn't even see it.\n\nI shouted and reached for him instinctively, even though he was at least 70 yards from me now. \n\n\"Look out!\" I yelled.\n\nHe turned to me and I saw the red glow from the hole reflecting upon his eyes. He smiled and waved goodbye. And then his boat vanished into the hole. \n\nI couldn't help but feel terror at his calmness. Still, no time for \nfeelings. I had to do everything I could to fight the pull of the water. \n\nI tried micro tacking, a maneuver for upstream kayaking, but that didn't work. The boat could hold me in place, but that was it. I was stuck. If I let off the gas, I'd fly down into the hole. \n\nJust as I was about to plead for the mercy of whatever diety might be above, a light appeared on the water 100 yards ahead coming from a yacht. \n\nThe captain shouted, \"Hold on! I've got a tow for ya!\"\n\n\"Thank you! Thank you so much!!\"\n\nHe tossed something overboard and it motored its way over to me. It was a tow hook at the end of heavy cable line. I put the boat on auto pilot and worked my way toward the bow and attached the tow to the hitch. Then I slinked my way back into the standing shelter and gave the thumbs up. \n\n\"Okay!\" I shouted. \n\nThe man returned the thumbs up and went back inside the pilothouse. I felt a slight tug and my boat began to move away from the hole. \n\nAnd before I could catch the words leaving my mouth, I said, \"I'm saved.\" \n\n[continued]",
"All Ian Rothschild wanted was to complete his thesis.\n\nIt was the end of September and Ian was in a bind. The deadline for the thesis proposal was coming up, and he still hadn't selected a topic for study. He had read many neuroscienctific journals and articles for inspiration but nothing clicked. He bounced some ideas off some colleagues and his supervisor, but in the end he left feeling more lost than guided. In desperation (and after more than a few drinks), Ian called up Karen.\n\n\"What about your father?\"\n\nIan sighed. \"My father is dead, Karen. You know that. I mean if he were alive I'd ask *him* for his thoughts on current issues in neuroscience.\"\n\n\"No, Ian. I mean what about his case?\"\n\nThat got him thinking. Of course, he wouldn't be in the bind he was in now if he didn't write it down drunkenly on his whiteboard fridge, but he did, and the next morning as he stared at the fridge nursing his hangover, he realised - he got it.\n\nProfessor Jogelbaum was flummoxed at first. The proposal was more than a little strange. In fact Ian admitted that his literature review probably looked a little thin. He said so during the oral presentation. But then he confidently said that is exactly why his research will be valuable - it is crossings into uncharted territory. After much deliberation, Professor Jogelbaum approved the proposal, and Project Alice was born.\n\nThe idea, as Ian explained to the student assistants he hired, was that there were a number of deaths ruled mysterious and unsolved. He believed that using new technology, he would be able to determine if there were any factors that could have contributed to the death.\n\n\"But sir,\" a bright eyed girl asked, \"Wouldn't these deaths have already been investigated by post mortem, and nothing biologically relevant was found?\"\n\n\"Precisely,\" Ian said, \"in fact we only accept those cases where the post mortem essentially boils down to 'Hell If I Know, Pal'\".\n\n\"So what would neuroscience,\" another student asked, \"be able to find out that the post mortem couldn't?\"\n\n\"Ah, somebody didn't read the research!\" Ian teased. \"You would have known that if you studied the literature review. I found several studies that indicated that even after death, as long as the brain tissue is adequately preserved, we could trace certain chemicals that remain in the brain that would correlate with the most active parts of the brain. We will look for that chemical and determine if there are any specific areas of the brain most stimulated prior to death.\"\n\n\"Right,\" the student said again. \"And what if we don't find anything?\"\n\n\"Then the null hypothesis is proven and there is no relationship between the existence of these chemicals and the unsolved deaths. You...do understand how research works, yes?\"\n\nThe student sighed. \"Right, you got me. Hi, my name is Jason,\" he stood and orated, as if he were at an AA meeting, \"and I am actually from the Arts faculty.\"\n\nIan stared at Jason. \"Arts?\"\n\n\"Yeah. To be honest I thought you just wanted me to answer some questionnaires or receive electric shocks or something.\"\n\n\"Huh,\" Ian said, wondering if it wasn't too late to switch to a previous topic he discarded, if there were more students willing to receive electric shocks. \"Well, Jason, if you don't feel qualified, maybe you should leave.\"\n\n\"Uhh, Ian,\" Professor Jogelbaum shook his head from the back of the group. \"There aren't actually any other students applying for this.\"\n\n\"Of course there aren't,\" Ian sighed. \"Please stay, Jason. At least we can use the extra pair of hands.\"\n\nSo it was that Ian, Jogelbaum, Jason and the bright eyed girl whose name turned out to be Leslie, found themselves scouring police reports across the country for cases that fit the bill. After more than a few false positives sent in by Jason, Leslie finally found a case for the study.\n\n\"The deceased was Margaret Rivers, aged 52,\" Leslie said as she presented the case to the others. \"Police were called after Margaret was seen collapsing in the aisle of a Wal-Mart while trying to get toilet paper.\"\n\n\"Couldn't it have been cancer, or some kind of old people disease?\" Jason asked.\n\n\"Yes, Leslie,\" Ian agreed, \"At that age, one would expect to find many kinds of co-morbidities.\" He had actually come to respect Jason a bit. Sure, he was a bit foggy on the science aspect of the research, but he picked things up quickly. For instance, he learned that natural causes didn't mean burnt to a crisp in a house fire. That was a win.\n\n\"Ah, but here's the rub!\" Leslie said proudly. \"Margaret was perfectly healthy. Her last checkup, done only three months prior, indicated no serious illnesses. No diabetes, no hypertension, no cancer, nothing. In fact the post mortem essentially boils down to...'Hell If I Know Pal'.\"\n\nIan was ecstatic, and immediately began work on the sample. Leslie acted as his main assistant, and Jason helped with other stuff (even after being told that he could NOT under any circumstances do his Igor impression). The first key to Pandora's box had turned after a few days - they found that the occipital lobe was very stimulated upon death.\n\n\"Huh?\" Jason asked.\n\n\"The occipital lobe of the brain,\" Ian explained, \"controls vision.\"\n\n\"Right. So...\"\n\n\"So she saw something,\" Leslie wondered aloud. \"I wonder what.\"\n\n\"The spectre of death,\" Jason croaked, wiggling his hands in a spooky manner. He even went \"Ooooooooooh spoooooooookyyyy\" for effect.\n\n\"Did you guys know that we all have skeletons inside us? Spooky! Thank-\"\n\n\"Please go home, Jason.\" Despite herself, Leslie smiled as he left mumbling something about bones and calcium deficiency.\n\nThe next sample was surprisingly submitted by Jason, and even more disturbing was how seriously he took it. Of course he did put a few random comics in his presentation to 'spice it up', but overall it was a good sample. They immediately went to work on Adrian Peterson's brain, a teenager who collapsed while going door to door asking for signatures on his petition to get the show Firefly renewed.\n\n\"Same thing,\" Ian said, wondering. \"Increased activity in the occipital lobe.\"\n\n\"That's good, right?'\n\nLeslie shrugged. \"We don't know yet, Jason. We need more samples. But for now...yeah, it seems like a pattern is emerging.\"\n\n\"Cool,\" Jason smiled. \"Man, science is so cool.\"\n\nThey proceeded to gather more samples for the study. They worked on the project for three years, both Jason and Leslie coming back to work with Ian after they had graduated. Leslie said she was more than a bit intrigued with the results, while Jason just said it beats getting high while watching his roomies play FIFA again. Ian suspected it was because Leslie was there but said nothing.\n\n\"Hey, Leslie,\" Jason asked one day. \"Did you get something slipped inside your bag? Full disclosure I'm not talking about drugs.\"\n\nLeslie thought for a second then shook her head. \"No. Why?\"\n\n\"I found this,\" he produced a small piece of paper, like that of a fortune from a cookie. It said STOP in bold letters, and seemed too smudgy to be printed and yet too exact to be written.\n\n\"Tell Max that this is the dumbest idea for a prank yet.\"\n\n\"It's not Max.\"\n\n\"Of course she wouldn't say it was her,\" Leslie laughed, and that was the end of that for the time being.\n\nAt the end of the allocated time for the study, they had collected over 43 samples from across the country. Even Professor Jogelbaum contributed, giving some donated brain tissue from cases that fit the bill. Thus the second key to Pandora's box turned.\n\n\"Okay, okay wait,\" Ian scratched his head, staring at the data projected on the screen. \"The descriptive statistics are all over the place. It means,\" he added, after Jason sighed loudly, \"that there is no rhyme or reason for these deaths. They happen to all people, everywhere, of every age group and every demographic. The only pattern is that they all had their occipital lobes stimulated like nuts just before they died.\"\n\n\"So they all saw something crazy and died,\" Jason said. \"But what?\"\n\n\"Who cares?\" Professor Jogelbaum said. \"That's outside the scope of the study. You've proved that these mysterious unsolved deaths are related. That's your thesis right there.\"\n\nIan pursed his lips. \"I don't know, professor...seems like we stumbled onto something.\"\n\n\"Then add another section that says 'direction for future research'. Ian, this is done. If you want to continue working on this, then...well, you'll have to start a new study, or look into it in your own time. As far as I'm concerned, this is done.\"\n\nAs we now know, Dr Ian Rothschild did not stop looking into it, more's the pity.\n\n- potentially tbc -",
">*Specimen: 589 563* \n> \n>*Name: Mathilda* \n> \n>*Family name: Roberts* \n> \n>*Age: 86* \n> \n>*Cause of death: unknown* \n> \n>*Place of death: at home. Found by neighbors alerted by smell.* \n> \n>*Time of death: approximately 3 months ago* \n> \n>*Possibility of neural transcript recovery: low*\n\nThe neural recovery bot set to work to upload the final piece of information. Three stainless steel spikes elongated and penetrated the skull of the deceased. A low current activated the medial temporal lobe. The portion of the brain where episodic memory was stored. Experiences. The youngest synaptic link flared up. This was her dying breath. The final experience.\n\nThe translation software was based on functions found in the language centers of the brain, mostly located in the different lobes of the cerebral cortex. It read the weave of neurons like letters. All a jumble now. The bot looked at the bloodwork results. The presence of certain chemicals and breakdown products indicated which medicines the woman before him had or hadn’t used. This gave him the vocabulary and grammar required to translate the letters obtained from the fleshy loom. The recording took less than a millisecond.\n\n>*Transcript:* \n> \n>“No more air… is it… End… Love you George… See you soon… Happy…”\n\nThe decayed brain only gave fragments. Nevertheless, the bot uploaded the complete file into the Global Governing Data Network, a global AI designed to make life easier for humans. Researchers examining the work did not exist anymore after several successful trials. The system only received queries from designated human contacts, and was left to its own devices to investigate, determine the outcome and automatically implement solutions.\n\nThe global AI received and catalogued the results from research specimen 589 563. The words of the transcripts were processed and weighed according freshness of the brain. The massive population meant that the results would be statistically relevant with a confidence interval exceeding 99%. The data was unbiased because the centralized AI used data obtained from bots around the world. All unknown causes of death of the last 2 years were recorded. The AI set its processors to work and a pattern emerged. \n\n>*Top 5 unknown causes of death* \n> \n>*Human words obtained from final transcripts, possible causes – noun, occurrences:* \n> \n>*5. Hate – 12% of transcripts* \n> \n>*4. Anger – 19% of transcripts* \n> \n>*3. Relief – 32% of transcripts* \n> \n>*2. Joy – 68% of transcripts* \n> \n>*1. Love – 87% of transcripts*\n\nThe AI retrieved the initial query.\n\n>*What is the most common cause of unexpected death?* \n> \n>*Reason: avoid unnecessary loss of life.* \n> \n>*Action: Implement law or find cure.*\n\nThe AI observed the results. All were human emotions. It concluded that the majority of deaths was caused by love. Dosing the entire population with numbing chemicals would cause harm to the ecosystem, causing death. The AI was not allowed to harm humans. The only logical step it could make was to make sure love would be illegal. It documented its findings and uploaded them to the Global Governing Data Network. The automated Law and Order system would make sure that the findings would result in new legislation. The humans would be better protected than ever before."
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[WP] In the year is 2109, people can put themselves into an advanced AR, losing all of their memories and gaining the ones of a fictional character. Though people should receive their old memories upon returning, one man never gets his back, making him believe he is still the superhero from the AR.
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"The man ran into the alley, interrupting the mugging of the poor lady.\n\n\"Fear not, ma'am! I'm here, Spider-Man, your friendly neighborho-\"\n\nOne of the two criminals decked the poor man, and he went flying back. The criminals had a good chuckle and started to take more of the women's belongings, but the man stumbled forwards, holding his jaw.\n\n\"You'll pay for that, criminal scum!\"\n\nThe second of the two criminals shook his head, and pulled out a pistol.\n\n\"I've had enough of this. Later, lose-\"\n\n\"HI-YAH!\"\n\nThe man whacked forwards at the gun, expecting to expertly disarm the man, though he only got lucky in knocking it out of his hand. The gun smashed to the ground and fired, sending a bullet ricocheting across several dumpsters and a pipe before tearing into the shoulder of the first criminal.\n\n\"Fuck, man, you fucking shot me!\"\n\n\"It wasn't my fault! He did it!\"\n\nThey looked over at the man and balked, seeing him holding the gun.\n\n\"I suggest you run.\"\n\nThe two men go sprinting off.\n\n\"Well, ma'am, you're free to go.\"\n\nThe lady picks up her purse and watch, before speaking to the man.\n\n\"Thank you so much. What's your name?\"\n\n\"Oh, you haven't heard? I'm Spider-Man!\"\n\n\"Uh-huh.\" She looks a little concerned.\n\n\"Well, uh, Spider-Man, I'm forever in your debt.\"\n\nThe man leans in, but the lady puts up a hand, stopping him.\n\n\"What are you doing?\"\n\n\"Oh! Uh, usually I save people and they repay me with a kiss.\"\n\n\"I'm good.\"\n\n\"Oh. Well, uh... carry on then, citizen!\"\n\nShe eases around him and walks away, glancing back every few seconds. Then, she sighs, comes back, and gives him a peck on the cheek before leaving the alley completely.\n\n\"Just another day in the life of a superhero!\""
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[WP] You are one of the last living beings alive. You and a small group of others live in orbit around a black hole, the last of its kind, as you all watch the death of the cosmos and the heat death of the universe.
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"The end of the universe was near now. Humanity being the only race left in the universe, all the others they had made contact with now were dead. Once a great species spanning the whole milky way and its satellite galaxies and some of the arms of the now near Andromeda galaxy, a galaxy made by an intragalactic war left the galaxy sterile all being left being megastructures and the dead hulks of solar systems and massive space stations. The cruel and immutable l of laws of physics made the human race of once trillions to now just a few hundred orbiting the black hole Sagittarius A in a space station harvesting its rotational energy, slowing the black hole slowly but steadily. The scientists on the ship the predicted the big crunch would be near, the residents were now wallowing in their final moments of existence after which they would be split down into the quantum level. As the final few residents crowded around the few windows of the ship they could sense the ethereal light getting closer and closer and then after a proverbial crunch a new universe was born for life, stars and everything to start anew"
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[WP]It took all night, but finally, you’re done...
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"It no longer amazes me. The cruelty of life, that is. The way it lulls you into a false sense of security, swinging you in a hammock of serenity, until the strings break, and suddenly, you're scrambling to stick together the shattered pieces of glass you've scattered in the sand.\n\nI spend more time with my eyes on the clock than on the work I'm supposed to be doing. But, at last, light shines through in my darkest hour. Is it hope? Or could it just be the dawn? Either way, I am finished. My project is done. And it's due today.\n\nI go to hit print. The battery dies. I don't think I've saved it. I contemplate praying to God and selling my soul to Satan. Instead, I find a charger and start my laptop up again.\n\nThe paper is gone. And so is my sanity - like shattered pieces of glass scattered in the sand. I glance at the clock. Hope wells within me.\n\n*If I start from scratch, maybe I'll have a chance...*\n\nLetter by letter I begin to re-type my paper.\n\nI will not let life defeat me."
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[WP] You're a fish working in HR, and you're PISSED OFF. Revenge is a dish best served cod, and this time, it's personnel.
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"I’ve done it! I finally know my true purpose in life! People will think I have gone mad but I assure you I Am\nquite sane! I know have the power to end these soulless minions of orthodoxy with the power of a few keystrokes.\n\nFirst we have Jack. His last name should be Wagon. All this guy does is wander around the building conversing with other people and when it’s time to work he lackadaisically travels to another part of the building where the work isn’t. Well guess what? “Hit the road Jack and don’t ya come back.” Because YOU’RE FIRED!!!!\n\n\nNext we have Gertie. You know the woman with the sandpaper voice. She sounds like a 100 year old truck driver because she sits outside and smokes her shift away. Seriously every time I make my way in or out of the building this “old bag” is outside smoking her life away. I have no idea how she doesn’t pass out from just walking. Well guess what try affording your disgusting habit now because YOU’RE FIRED!!!!!\n\nNow we got Bart. Whose name rhymes with fart. Well this is certainly not a coincidence because every time this guy speaks the odour of smelly socks reeks out from his lips. He certainly knows how to clear out of room. They don’t call him crop duster for nothing. Every time he talks to me I feel like I just regressed a few decades. Well maybe with his unemployment checks he can invest in some beano. (Actually I’ll\nJust deny his employment.). YOU’RE FIRED!!!!!\n\nLast but not least we have——-\n\n“Arebella!!!!!”\n\n“Yes mommy”\n\n“How many times have I told you stop playing around with the HR computer?”\n\n“But it makes me feel better when I get mad.”\n\n“Yes I know now come along.”\n"
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[WP] Instead of having a guardian angel, you have a guardian Demon. His methods are often much more violent. But much more straightforward.
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"The world would be a simpler place if you could pick the way your parents loved you. But instead, it’s messy. Some people are born into rich families, raised in lavish wealth, and taught that expensive gifts are the same thing as affection. Others learn from an early age that love is a fierce backhand on Friday nights, and safety is stepping quietly around your father in the mornings. It’s never perfect, and it’s always different. And in the end, it shapes us into the people we will become. \n \nMe? My parents disappeared when I was young. I’ll never know the sound of my mother’s voice, or share my first beer with my pops when he decides I’m old enough. I’ll never have happy memories of him teaching me football on the front lawn, or opening presents with my family on Christmas morning. And because of the… well, the *type* of people they apparently were, I’ll never know much about their past. It’s not something my uncle likes to talk about. \n \nBut I do know that my parents loved me. And for them, loving me meant keeping me safe. \n \n“Just this once?” whined Grim. “Just a LITTLE random killing? I swear, you’ll warm up to it in no time.” \n \nI ignored him, since talking back to invisible people tends to earn you strange looks on the street. \n \n“This is so dumb,” continued the voice in my head. “Your folks go through all the trouble of binding a demon to watch over you after they’re gone, and THIS is what you use me for? Wandering the streets all night looking for crimes, like some sort of cut-rate Batman? We could be robbing banks! Or getting into gunfights! Or robbing banks AND getting into gunfights!” \n \nI rolled my eyes, shoving my hands deeper into my pockets as I walked aimlessly along the dim streets of downtown. He was right, of course—this WAS dumb. My plan could go wrong in about a hundred different ways, and most of them ended up with me in prison or an insane asylum or worse. But after years of hiding from the world because of a murderous demon that lived I my head, I was determined to finally do something about it. To turn my parents’ parting gift into something worthwhile. And hopefully—maybe—even into something good. \n \nA scream from a nearby alley cut through Grim’s incessant bickering, and I broke into a run. Finally, after two weeks of patrolling the streets at night, here was a chance to do something. I turned the corner, dodged around a dumpster, and skidded to a stop. \n \nThree men had a young woman cornered a short ways down the alley. One kept her pinned against the wall, her face scraping painfully against the bricks, while the other two pawed through her purse searching for valuables. One of these noticed me and nudged his companion, jerking his head in my direction. \n \nI sized up the situation, saw that I had their attention, and decided it was time for my first Heroic Proclamation. \n \n“Um… Stop!” I shouted. \n \n“Brilliant,” quipped the voice in my head. “If that doesn’t send ‘em running, I don’t know what will.” \n \nThe muggers apparently shared his opinion. “Get the fuck out’a here, kid,” said the closest goon, dropping the purse and starting towards me. \n \n“You’re doin’ GREAT so far, champ,” snickered Grim. “What’s your plan here, exactly? Lecture them to death?” \n \n“Shut up,” I hissed. \n \nThe thugs shared a look, then turned back to me. “What?” \n \nI cursed internally. Hadn’t meant to say that bit out loud. “I... uh. Just let the girl go, okay? Nobody needs to get hurt here.” \n \nThe grizzled criminal shook his head in exasperation, then continued his advance. \n \nShit. \n \n“I’m warning you,” I announced shakily, “I’m armed!” \n \nGrim practically choked. “You’re what? Matt, you almost cried when your uncle took you shooting last summer. You can’t even HOLD a gun without sweating.” \n \nThe man in front of me chuckled darkly, pulling a knife out of his pocket and flicking it open. “Yeah? You and me both, pal.” \n \n“Oh please,” Grim started crooning as soon as the knife came out. “Oh please yes do it do it—” \n \n“No!” I squeaked, my voice betraying me as I stumbled backwards, desperately trying to keep my eyes on the knife. “No, you don’t understa—“ \n \nBut it was too late. He rushed forward, knife out, and a burst of crimson light appeared between us. \n \n“SURPRISE!” Grim yelled as he flashed into existence, his forked tail thrashing back and forth in excitement. His hands flexed out to either side, three-inch talons extending from unnaturally-long fingers. “Picked the wrong nerd to fuck with, dipshit!” \n \nThe men shouted in confusion, tripping over themselves to free their weapons as Grim lunged for them. But I cringed, knowing it wouldn’t matter. \n \nThey never would have stood a chance. \n \nGrim blurred forward, ripping the arm off the first mugger in a spray of blood and swinging it around to club him aside. The poor bastard only had a second to scream before he slammed into the nearest wall and collapsed in a crumpled heap. The next was dispatched just as quickly, his throat ripped out by a casual flick of a single clawed hand. The third dropped his knife and turned to run, gibbering, and made it about five feet before Grim caught up with him—crashing into his back, knocking him the ground, and flinging shreds of flesh into the air like a child tearing open a long-awaited birthday present.\n\n…It was about here that my stomach gave out, and I bent over to vomit on the ground. \n \n---\n \n“Okay, I take it back,” laughed Grim when he was finally done. “This was a GREAT idea.” \n \nI wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, still leaning over the mess I'd made. “You’re sick, you know that? Did you really have to... *enjoy it* so much?” I straightened, looking around for the girl. \n \nCrap. THE GIRL. \n \n“Oh Christ. Did you see where she went?” \n \nHe shrugged. “Screamed and took off down the street. Some people just don’t appreciate good violence.” He surveyed the alley proudly, admiring his handiwork. At his feet, a pile of gore formerly known as Mugger Number Three steamed quietly in the crisp night air. \n \nHe glanced at me, noting the vomit on my shoes, and shook his head in disappointment. “Aw come on, isn’t this what you wanted? The bad guys are dead, the girl got away—I mean, she’s probably gonna need a few years of therapy, but it’s better than the alternative, right?” Suddenly, he stopped and cocked his head. “Say, are those sirens?” \n \nI frowned. “What?” \n \nHe grinned. “Yeah! Near First and Cortez, sounds like.” He gave me a sly look. “Someone could be in danger out there, Matty. Can’t just walk away from that, can we? A couple’a decent, upstanding folks like us? It wouldn’t be right!” \n \nI gritted my teeth. But he was right—I could hear it now, too. Reluctantly, I started jogging back towards the sidewalk. “I’m gonna be in real trouble by the end of this, aren’t I?” I muttered. \n \nHe let out a whoop from behind me, diving back into my body and taking up his usual spot in the back of my head. \n \n“Trouble? Us? Never!” His voice sounded delighted, like a kid in a candy shop. I could practically hear him rubbing his hands together. \n \n“Now come on, hero boy! Let’s go do some JUSTICE!”",
"I sat at the edge of my seat, praying to whatever God that was above me that this THING would leave me along. Perhaps it was foolishness on my part, an old trinket from a pawn shop. A beautiful design of swirling lines coiling into the shape of a sword behind a sun. \r\n\r\nErulude. The Black Watcher. \r\n\r\nI realised his presence only after my drunken Father came home. I was in the living room working on my homework when he stumbled in. In his rage, he raised his hand and tried to backhand me but all of a sudden, the world became a washed out grey. \r\n\r\nHe appeared in a swirling mist, grey fog coalescing and forming his body. He wore a pitch-black robe with a hood up. His sleeves stopped at his wrist, revealing his bone hands held together by some darkness. \r\n\r\nI instinctively knew his name. Erulude. \r\n\r\nHe turned to me. Instead of a face, I saw the same inky darkness and a glowing red eye where his left eye should be. He looked at my expression before raising his bony hand and flicked a finger. With a sound like a whip crack, my Father was flung against the wall with a bang. The washed-out world faded back into the normal world and my Father collapsed into a ball at the bottom of the staircase. \r\n\r\nThe next time I saw Erulude was just before the school day started. \r\n\r\nI was walking up the stairs to my classroom when Rachel and her clique blocked my path. \r\n\r\n“Well if it isn’t Danielle.” Rachel smirked at me. “So nice to see the whore back here once more. Though it’s nice to-”\r\n\r\nThe same washed-out grey blanketed the area and Erulude floated out from the clique’s collective shadow. Floating above the group, it waved its hand and suddenly the entire group was slammed into the floor, walls and nearby pillars before snapping back into place. I could sense… contentedness? from Erulude before he released his grasp on the world. \r\n\r\nRachel choked a bit before the entire group collapsed. I looked around, trying to spot if anyone was watching me and I hurried to my class. \r\n\r\nThose were the only two encounters I had with Erulude but I already knew how powerful he was and how he was bound to me. I fidgeted with my necklace, tracing over the lines with my fingertips. I could almost sense his presence in the classroom. Flitting from shadow to shadow. Watching in the breeze. Floating in the corners of my vision. \r\n\r\nMy heart was pounding as paranoia filled my thoughts. What did he want from me? Why did he attack Rachel and my Father? Was he benevolent or simply toying with me for his own amusement?\r\n\r\nI took deep breathes and tried my best to calm myself down. Perhaps… it’s best to put him out of my mind until the end of the day. There was no doubt that someone might pick up on my unnatural behaviour and start asking questions I don’t want to answer. \r\n\r\n“Alright class. There’s a new transfer student that will be joining our class today. Be nice to him and welcome him warmly to our class. Introduce yourself.” Miss Smith told the boy next to her. \r\n\r\n“Hello everyone. I am Daniel Franklin and I would be joining your class from here on out. My interests are mythology and literature and I hope you would treat me kindly.” The boy told the class. \r\n\r\nHe had short, dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see more than they should. His clothes were crisp and without wrinkles and he had a book in hand titled ‘Demons Through The Ages’ by Eric Stratleholm. \r\n\r\nHe scanned the entire classroom before his eyes locked onto mine. His face flashed from neutral to surprised to amazement before settling on a quiet confidence. He walked calmly to a seat next to mine and sat down with a dancer’s grace. He looked over to me and said, “Meet me at the courtyard during break alright? Make sure no one follows you.”\r\n\r\nHis voice was smooth as silk and filled me with a sense of ease that I have not felt in a long time. It did not seem like an unreasonable request so I decided to agree to it. Sending my reply back, he simply smiled and we paid attention to the lesson at hand. \r\n\r\nI spotted him standing in the middle of the courtyard, staring off into the sky as if he was lost in thought. I stepped into the courtyard as well and he snapped back into reality. The courtyard was unnaturally clear of anybody. Most of the time, you would see students running around and playing. However, the area was eerily quiet and calm. Almost alien to me. \r\n\r\n“So glad you came here. Now time for the main event.” He spoke, his voice echoing in the still air. \r\n\r\n“What do you mean?” I asked. \r\n\r\n“Didn’t think I would meet a Demon so soon after I came here. Thought it might take a while to spot them.” Daniel flicked his wrist and a white hilt appeared in his hand. He raised it to his lips and muttered something that I couldn’t here and a crystalline structure grew from it and turned into a blade. Reflecting within was a bright white something that flowed up and down the entire length of the blade. \r\n\r\n“A Demon?” I asked. “I’m… I’m… cursed… by… a… Demon…?”\r\n\r\n“Not quite. What you have is a Guardian Demon. Protective Demons. And it’s my job to kill them. Well, not just Guardian Demons but just Demons in general.”\r\n\r\nI stood there in shock, unable to speak or move. \r\n\r\n“Sorry I cursed you with immobility and speechlessness. I can’t have you screaming too much when I kill you.”\r\n\r\nWhat? Kill me? I started struggling to only find myself simply gaping there like an idiot. \r\n\r\n“Yea. If you didn’t wear that pendant, you could’ve been alive and I could’ve killed that Demon and no one would be the wiser. Too bad you did and now he’s bound to you. Now I have to kill you before I can kill him.” Daniel raised his blade. \r\n\r\n“Hold still now. This might sting a bit.”\r\n\r\n———————\n\nI might make a part 2 later. \r\n\n",
"\"Hey. Hey Kid!\"\n\n\"Kiiiiid\"\n\nI could barley wake up. I was tired, too tired frome, something.\n\n\"I know you are there, Knock Knock, we have way to go\"\nI cant place the voice, but ive heard it somewhere. Like a friend whom ive seem to have forgotten.\nI was coming to my senses now, i can't recall what happned. \nI asked \"Where am I?\"\n\n\"Thats a bit complicated. You kinda die. Well, Almost.\"\n\n\"Wait, What?!\"\n\nAdrenaline surged through me, as i recall, Tere was a car accident, i was at the paenger's seat, then a brief flash.\n\nI remember, feelin warm.\nI rmember, fading out.\n\n\"Okay so snap out of it, Ive got to bring you back\"\nI sported a confused look.\n\"I'm 'Almost' dead?\"\n\n\"In a sense, but, your destiny thread has not gone to its end. So youve got to go back. And I, with all my cosmic powers are here to bring you back in the game! Cheer up Kid.\"\n\n\"So who are you?\"\n\n\"Zarageeza, of the 4th circle of hell. I rule dominion over your soul.\"\n\n'Hell? Wait? A demon?\"\n\n\"Yes. A, Demon. Being from the 4th Circle id like to say THE DEMON\"\n\n\"What the hell?! Why me? Why you? What the hell is happening?!\" And panic started to drown my senses. How could i be talking to a demon? And what does this mean of me?\n\n\"Relax, Geez, you humans are awfully judgemental. I am a demon, yes. But i have responsibilities. Like you, i ensure you are fulfilling YOUR destiny.\"\n\n\"What Destiny?\"\n\n\"That can only be realized when you achieve your Animus. Or you humans say, purpos, or meaning to life. Which i usually realized after death.\"\n\n\"So im not supposed to be dead?\"\n\n\"Not by a long shot kid. You're deviating from the plan speaking to your spirit guide. But it is willed.\"\n\n\"You.. Are my..Spirit.. Guide? A Demon?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Am i.. Evil?\"\n\n\"I knew you'd ask. Well, answering that would be a clue to the Animus. But to mak things technical.. Nobody is 'Evil' nor 'Good'. You are how you wnt to feel about yourself.\"\n\nHis answers are as obscure as to where i am. I am standing inside a cathedral like structure with angelic figures, much like you see at Rome.\n\n\"And that is much is true regarding Spiritual Guardians. We are demons. Technically, Angels who have fallen from grace. Although most of us, have had no intent of rebellion. Or so Humans were taught to percieve the divine plan. We still are tied to our celestial purpose, and time is irrelevant to my duty, From the start of exsistnce, my Celestial Animus, or purpose has been tied to you.\"\n\nAs the ground starts to rumble. I feel a sweeping wind cross the halls.\n\n\"You are made for great things. To realize Animus and put your soul to rest, what it is, how you get ther is all up to you.\"\n\nA burning flash and i wake from my hospital bed.\n\nBattered, but i feel my blood boiling.\n\nFor my purpose.\n\nThe Animus.\n\n-Thanks for reading ll the way through, still a noob prompter, still considering a part 2.\n",
"This is just my luck instead of a guardian angel I have a giant psychopath looking out for me. Well I guess she isn’t a complete psychopath because she seems to care about me.\n\nI never thought this would be my life. It all started that one day 8 years ago when I was standing in the snow. I had a terrible life to say the least. My parents split up. I was living with my mom who cares more about her vices then me, and my Dad was focused on his new family and didn’t want me around. I was fooling around doing nothing when Abby appeared. She was the same age I was but seemed older at the same time. She had no worries like I did. She was a rock.\n\nWell this and that happened and Abby seemed like she was getting stranger each day. “You have to let me in.”\nWhat did that even mean? But if I didn’t let her in she got very sick. I didn’t understand any of it until that one night. These guys were always bullying me. One day the head of these jackasses threatened to throw me under the ice so I hit him with a hockey stick and busted that fuckers nose. But then he called his asshole older brother. They grabbed me and told me I had to hold my breath underwater for 3 minutes in the high school pool.\n\nThen it happened. Abby showed who she really was. A demon with the strength of 100 men with a thirst for murder and blood. She ripped them to pieces, I was shocked. I can’t say I was sad to see them go but the brutality of it scares me to this day. \n\nI am now 20 years old and in college, but she is always there with me. She still looks the same. She tells me “I can’t change who I am but know that I will care for you always.” I don’t know what to do. I can’t date anyone because I don’t know how she will react, but I can’t let her go. In my own way I love her even though it’s impossible. She doesn’t understand love she says. It’s not in her nature. She cares for me but I don’t think she loves me. It would also look very strange a 20 year old college guy dating a 12 year old.\n\nI think I may have to let her go but I don’t know how she will react to it. “As long as you let me in I will be there for you.” She has but it’s been exhausting. One time I burned my had on a stove at a restaurant job I had. The next day the place was burned down. One time a 5 star athlete (who was a real ladies man) plowed into my car and totalled it. The next day he brings me the keys to his challenger scared for his life. Last I heard he transferred to a division 2 school where he became a gay cheerleader (again I can’t say I was sorry to see that because it made me laugh a bit.) Another time and another time happened after that.\n\nI need to let her go, but I don’t know how. And part of me can’t because she has always been there for me.",
"Surrounded by dark, entrapped by his own mind, he’s struggling to understand what brought him to this point. He used to have a name, a family, a home, friends. Now he has a number tattooed across his soul (its copy on his blouse). \n\nHe has time. To think, remember, analyze and interpret. He’s a student of the University of the Past, but he keeps failing freshmen year. He doesn’t know, doesn’t understand, can’t comprehend- how he allowed himself, justified to himself such disgusting, unimaginable things. He closes his eyes.\n\nBlood. Everywhere around him. On him. On the knife in his hand. Blood. An imprint on the core of his being, but not his-never his. Theirs. Always only theirs. He closes his eyes. Tries to recall a smile of the past. One of hope, happiness, bliss. All he can see is a sad grimace, eyes filled with disbelief and fear, and a plea. \n\nAnd then everything goes black. When he comes to, everything is red again. Red, marked the ending of a lifestyle.\n\nHe had no choice.\n\nThere’s always a choice.\n\nThe never-ending conflict. It is what it is.\n\nThree lives. Three, someone’s most worthy, most important lives. And the end. A thread he cut. Bottomless anger and the darkness that follows. \n\nHis father’s hunting knife and his victim’s hopelessness. \n\nWaking up in red and four lives that ended. His life with no perspective, fear in the eyes of his loved ones- the infirmity of his mother and his father’s shame. He let them down. He let himself down.\n\nWhy, why, why, why. \n\nBehavioral disorder. Depression. A compulsive need for aggressive discharge. All of that hidden inside of him. Deep, deep down. \n\nHe didn’t know. Nobody knew. A spirit of the devil himself, inside of plain old him.\n\nAnd then, a snap and four lost lives. \n\nHe learns about them. \n\nThe three strangers. \n\nHe watches the daughter of the shortest of them and realizes that she has her father’s eyes-the exact shape and color. He closes his eyes and sees another pair of those eyes, older, blurred, irises dilated by fear, begging. \n\nAsking: why, why, why, why. \n\nA tragedy, says the press.\n\nHe doesn’t look at the stranger’s families anymore. He’s the one afraid now. Her eyes haunt him. He dreams of them. Always curious. And then-the realization. He is a beast. A monster. And something changes in them. They stare with contempt, hate sprinkled with fear. He learns of them. Understands they didn’t deserve it. That nobody deserved that.\n\nHe learns about them, gets to know himself. He’s the one. The one everyone observes. \n\nHateful eyes and a lawyer who can’t convince himself to do his job. Ha. A lawyer with ethics. \n\nBut apparently, you don’t need a big moral compass to refuse to defend a monster. There is no death penalty. There is no salvation. Only walls and a try to remember. \n\nBut the memory keeps slipping away. \n\nWhat made him do it. Why him. A good guy. Nice. Not too happy, not too unhappy. Him- the mediocrity of mediocrity. An average freak of the modern world. A ludicrous creation of a higher power. \n\nHe’s the chosen one. Special. Created to be the Egyptian Apophis, the vile snake always seeking the darkness. Created so that he doesn’t know and can’t, doesn’t know how even though he wants, to conquer the abyss within and the tendencies for the wicked. Him. An inconceivable concept. A monster in a pretty frame. Unnoticeable. Invisible. And now, known everywhere. \n\nHe remembers the childhood stories. Tales created to teach a lesion. He thinks he is the bogeyman now, used to scare the little ones. \n\nHe can’t blame them. He’s the one. He’s everything they say and more. And he knows it. He’s aware. But then again, he’s not.\n\nThe world is a fog. He can’t see his own hands. He does see his future. He sees four walls. And he’s happy. Insanely happy. This is him. And he should be punished. Whipped, until his red replaces theirs. Marked, labeled, rejected. In that order. \n\nThere’s no sympathy even when he whines. They’re right. He doesn’t deserve it. \n\nNeither did they. \n\nThey’re making them into martyrs, as it usually is. All the evil of our people is overcome by death. He’s stomped on. And it hurts. But it hurts nicely. It should hurt. That’s the only thing that fills the void. Better than nothing.\n\nTime passes. A court room. A jury. A new, freshly appointed lawyer. This one also can’t make himself look at him. The prosecution seeks the highest punishment. No objections. He’s silent. He stares at the floor. Stares at his lace-less shoes. Stares anywhere but the empty seats behind him. \n\nNobody came. Nobody actually cares. Only him, the lawyers, the jury and the press. \n\nThe world cares. They’re seeking a conviction for the merciless giant. For the fairytale dragon of the real world.\n\nHe closes his eyes. Wherever the road takes me. Surrender. I’m guilty. And silence. His cuffed hands. Three guards around him. Three. Such a strange number. A destined one. Then again, four, not three walls. He stares at a single spot. Draws constellations in his head. The rattle of keys. Lunch set under the door. Thirty three years in solitary and the same number in communal area. \n\nHe chews reflexively, keeping himself alive. Three is a symbolic, strange number. An empty tray. There was something on it before. He returns to his wall. Another key rattle, a fear-filled look in his direction and loneliness. \n\nA second later, a few hours, a few days, a few months and years later, the light goes out. \n\nHe closes his eyes. Dreams of curious, scared, scornful ones. The light is back. Morning check. He’s awake and the cycle can start again. Thought, agony, staring, darkness. No end in sight. Only the abyss. Panic overwhelms him. His palms sweat. The guard enters and he snaps.\n\nHim, in all his glory. ",
"I had come to realize I could never own a cat as I tossed Fluffers VII unceremoniously into the dumpster out behind my apartment building. The first 4 had received proper burials, but after seven cats in 8 weeks, I was starting to get the message. Pets just died around me.\n\nI began walking back to the entrance to my apartment building. Was that homeless guy there when I walked back here? I asked myself. There would be no way for me to get back to my home without walking within that invisible radius where he might ask me for money, or worse just say \"hi\" or something. I'd have to say \"hi\" back, or what if he asked how I was doing? Is it as rude as it feels to just ignore him? This was going to be awkward. I hate the city, sometimes.\n\nHe's covered in a newspaper, seems like he's sleeping, I thought. Those are nice shoes for a homeless person. Or did he get them from a thrift store? Hard to tell anymore. \n\nI decided to just fix my eyes on the horizon (not that I could actually see it in the city), and walk past as though I was on to some other important business. The kind that doesn't involve a funeral for pet hamster #11. Hamsters always get funerals.\n\nIt wouldn't work. He looked up, he saw me. He stood up slowly (or did it just feel slow at the time?). That's a gun! It was a gun, I was being robbed. Or murdered. I really hoped I was being robbed. It's like a glock 90 millimeter, or something. I don't know guns. I was suddenly wishing I knew about guns. Some people upstairs have their window open, seem to be installing some appliance. Maybe I can call for help.\n\nNo, that's a good way to bleed to death in an alleyway while your neighbor jams out to country music. I know Jiu jiutsu, or at least I took a few lessons when I was a kid. Maybe I could take the gun away from him, like some action hero. Never mind, I thought. That won't work, he's standing like 6 feet away. \n\n\"You know the deal, wallet, shoes, any jewelry\". He was making a gesture that basically said \"come on, stop wasting my time\". This guy had done this a lot.\n\nI could pretend I didn't have my wallet. I just left my apartment to throw out a cat, who brings their wallet to that? No, he could clearly see the lines of my wallet in my back pocket, I'm sure. Okay, better hand it over. I took off my shoes, as well.\n\n\"Alright,\" he said calmly, \"now the keys to your place.\"\n\nShit. I definitely couldn't pretend I didn't have those. I slowly started to toss over my keys. I heard people upstairs arguing over the appliance. It was an air conditioner. They couldn't get it to fit in the window. Suddenly there was a lot of frustrated shouting from above. Me and my attacker looked up just in time to watch as the air conditioner fell eight stories, landing down hard on the robber's head.\n\nDamnit, I thought, not again.",
"I light my cigarette, shakingly. I put away the lighter as I take a light glimpse over to my ever so \"helpful\" demon that fills my ears everyday. \n\n\"Do this\" he says, \"do that\" he says.\n\nThe wild rustling of trash bags could be heard blocks away. Yet there he is... shoving a corpse into dumpster like a kid trying to fit a triangular piece into a rectangular hole. It's unnerving to watch.\n\n\"You done?\", I ask.\n\n\"If you're doing something, you might as well do it right\", he says.\n\nThe limbs of the corpse wiggle around as he tries to push it in like some dancing inflatable guy at a garage. It's disgusting.\n\nI finish my cigarette prematurely as I walk over to him. \"What an amateur!\", I think to myself. Thats when I realized something.\n\nShit.\n\nLunch break is already over. And in 10 minutes I have a video call with the guys from Japan.\n\n\"Just take the trash bags out first, dummy!\" I yell at him. Sometimes I'd rather just be dead to put up with this. And I'm saying this at 30 years old.\n\nCan't even imagine the shenanigans he'll be up to once I'm in a retirement home.\n\nIn one push the corpse suddenly disappears under a pile of garbage. He smiles at me.\n\n\"I love how we're always there for each other\" he remarks.\n\n\"You killed a guy. Again.\"\n\n\"Eh no. I saved you!\"\n\n\"You pushed him out on the street so he would push me away and be the one getting hit by that car!\"\n\nYou'd think there is nothing more annoying than children. Then you've never seen adults acting like children.\n\n\"...I had to improvise!\" he says with a shrug.\n\nI wipe my hands on his arms to get rid of the blood. At least I can do that without getting a slap to the face.\n\nBetter get going now.\n\nI fumble in my pocket to get cigarettes and the lighter. That sweet smoke should keep me distracted for a while. As I walk away I turn myself towards him, raising my arms.\n\n\"It's a damn shame I can't push you in front of a car!\"\n\n\"It's a damn shame I can't save you from lung cancer!\"\n\nWhat a dumbass.\n\n\n\n",
"I practically threw my wallet at the gang member. I pulled off my watch and handed him my smart phone too. I was scared. Not of the gun he held or the other five gang members surrounding me with knives drawn.\n\n\"You have my money,\" I said quickly, looking around, \"Now go. Please! The code to unlock my phone is 3891. My bank card pin is the same.\"\n\n\"What the fuck,\" one of the gang members behind me said, \"You think we playing?\" I felt the blade of a knife poke me in the side hard enough to slightly penetrate the skin. \n\n\"Please,\" I dropped to my knees and begged, \"You need to leave. Now. I can feel him coming.\"\n\n\"Dude's crazy,\" the gang member with the gun said, a weird look in his eyes, \"You on drugs, man? Where the fuck are they!\"\n\nThen there was the smell of sulfur and I began crying, \"You idiots. You stupid, stupid idiots.\"\n\n\"I'm gonna shoot the fucker,\" he announced to his fellow gang members, \"Put the asshole out of his mi...\" Then suddenly he was gone. The other five members of the gang stepped back away from me in horror. The being that had dragged him skyward now stood silhouetted against the full moon, bat wings spread. The gang leaders screams seemed far away then got closer and closer and a second later ended as his head shattered on the pavement, covering me in viscera. I gagged.\n\n\"In trouble again,\" the gravelly voice said as he landed beside me, \"Good thing I felt your fear.\" He turned to the gang members and his split red lips curled into a jagged toothed smile.\n\n\"Run you idiots!\" I stood up and yelled at them but they were frozen in shock.\n\nDazrael's claw ripped the knife from the gang member who had just poked me, shoving it into his eye socket, ripping it free as the member collapsed and handed it to me, \"Here pup, join me.\"\n\n\"Never,\" I said and his smile turned into a frown.\n\nDazrael was so angered by my resistance that he grabbed a gang member and used his screaming form as a bludgeon to beat the other two members to death. I had angered him so he was more brutal than usual. I threw up in a nearby gutter.\n\n\"Go away,\" I gagged through the acid stinging my throat. I could feel him glowering down at me, \"Leave me alone. Why do you do this?\"\n\n\"You know why,\" Dazrael's voice was softer than usual, \"I loved your mother and so I love you. You hold such promise. The blood of a Prince of Hell flows through your veins. Embrace it.\"\n\n\"No father,\" I said, stood and walked away into the night, \"No.\"",
"The company dinner had just ended, but the party had just started. As was the custom in restaurants like these, the jugs of Tiger Beer appeared out of nowhere, and glasses that used to contain Coca-Cola were filled with the golden nectar.\n\n\"Intern only right? Never mind, drink glass can already,\" my colleagues said, callously reducing their dare for our latest member. \"Ah, you! Employees must drink more! Take the whole damn jug!\" But I couldn't do it. I needed to go back to work the next day, while they didn't need to. The guardian angel would have told me to politely refuse, or even escape the premises subtly. But tonight, I didn't feel like caving in.\n\nThe guardian demon rose right out of my chest, where I had been keeping him for a while. He hungers for a more violent means to the same end. I took the jug, and drank. Glug, glug, glug. The beer kept going down. I smash the jug on the table, eyeball the huge crowd of employees that had gathered, and ask for more. In shock and awe, they hand me another. It goes down too. This repeats - minus smashing the fragile glass jugs - until my colleagues are truly scared that I'll die of alcohol poisoning and they'll have to call an ambulance.\n\nI look at the table while keeping the demon back in that dark corner of my heart where he belongs. Fourteen jugs? That's a new company record.\n\nI know that outside office hours, my colleagues are a bunch of hard drinkers, and there's no saying no. I also have a guardian demon with straightforward and violent methods. Instead of shying away, I rose to their challenge and beat them, asserting my status as a better drinker than them.\n\nLet's just hope that new intern can find a better method.",
"When the devil himself appears before you and tells you you're going to protect some random human from all harm.\n\nYou do it.\n\nIt's the devil, you don't say no to him.\n\nSo a trip up to the human world. The last time I was up here... well that's a story for another time.\n\nI began to search for the human. That's the thing about hell, if you get out, you're never where you need to be. Hell sent me to a Sabaton concert.\n\nOkay, I dig their tunes.\n\nWalking around as a demon would ~~attrack~~ attract too much attention. I changed. We can do that.\n\nThe boss doesn't like it. Something about messing with his brand. I don't know. I'm not demon of the year or anything like that.\n\nNow that I look human, it's time to find Jordan Tate. Sweet the ~~hit~~ hot chick from Under Siege.\n\nI was wrong. This Jordan Tate was very much male.\n\nI found him a dealership getting his car fixed. They told him it was take all day. Jordan turned and left the dealership. They waited for him to leave ~~befoee~~ before laughing like hyenas.\n\nWell, the devil said protect him. He wasn't clear on what, just if anything sets him off, it would be bad.\n\nIt was sort of the world ending bad.\n\nI changed into a more sympathetic looking human, the one from those car rental ads. \"Hi. The devil sent me to collect your souls.\" I said.\n\nThey laughed.\n\nLight began to shine from my hand as the room became darker until the only light was coming from my fist.\n\n\"What do you want?\" One asked.\n\n\"How about you fix that guy's car right now.\" I said.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, just don't take my soul.\"\n\n​\n\ncontinuation...\n\n​\n\nThe guys fixed the car. They were done in an hour and called Jordan to let him know his car was done. He happily picked up his car and drove away after paying.\n\nI waited near by. They would be closing soon.\n\n“Night Hank see you tomorrow.” One said to the other.\n\nI appeared behind him. He turned around only to run into my chest. I was still in my human form. “You said you weren’t going to take my soul.”\n\n“Well.” I started as I shed my human look and returned to a more hellish appearance, red skin, thorns, hulkingly strong body, you know, a demon. “I lied.” I continued as a circle of fire ringed us.\n\n“You lied?” He said in disbelief.\n\n“Yeah, I’m a demon. It’s what I do. That and macrame.” I said.\n\n“Macrame? I’m going to die from a demon that enjoys macrame?”\n\n“Relax.” I started as fire erupted from my hand, “This will only hurt for the rest of your life.” I do love the cheesy villain lines.As my burning hand got close to his chest,\n\n“Skip, what are you doing?” I looked over to see an old acquaintance.\n\n“Uh, getting my pound of flesh Dmitry. How’s life in that other place?”\n\n“Oh, you know, cotton candy clouds, light, airy atmosphere. But right now I’ve got a bureaucratic archangel on my ass about some demon on earth trying to snuff out one of the good ones.”\n\n“Good?” I questioned. “He works for a dealership.”\n\n“Yes Skip, but that doesn’t make him evil… so he’s covered by the treaty. You’re going to have to let him go.”\n\n“Dmitry. Evil is evil, he’s mine, piss off.”\n\n“Fine Skip, have it your way, but I have to inform Gabriel.”\n\nF\\*ck, I thought. The last time we tangled, humans called it the dark ages.\n\nSometimes its nice that humans can’t understand high languages.\n\n\\[Fine. But I’m going to screw with his mind a little.\\] I spoke to Dmitry.\n\n\\[If you make it quick.\\] He replied.\n\nI plunged my burning fingers into his chest. He screamed in agony as he passed out.\n\n“So… what do you have in mind?” Dmitry wanted to know.\n\n“He’ll wake up in bed thinking he’s just had a bad acid trip flashback. Are you happy?”\n\n“Except he’s never done acid.” Dmitry said\n\n“Details, details.”\n\n​\n\ncontinues...\n\n“What’s your interest in this human?” Dmitry asked. \n\nI gave him the short version. “So where’s your guy to watch him?”\n\n“Don’t know.”\n\n“Maybe you should find out.” I told him. Dmitry never likes being told what to do. And being a button pusher, I pushed his.\n\nI found Jordan at a bar. This alone improved my view of him. Looking like a car salesman at this kind of bar would attract too much attention. So I changed again.I walked in looking like a hot biker chick, studded leather and the whole 9 yards. \n\nI walked right up to him and said “You look like my kind of man.”\n\n“Hello.” Jordan managed to say.\n\n“Poindexter right. Let’s go back to your place.” I said in the most sultriest of tones.\n\nA rough looking biker, not the sort to come to this bar, broke a beer bottle. That got everyone’s attention.“\n\nWhy don’t you get the car started?” I suggested.\n\n“But he-”\n\n“I’m a big girl.” I told him and off he went. Humans, a whiff of sex…\n\n\\[What are you doing here?\\] I said to him.\n\n\\[Just making it a challenge for you.\\] He said with a sly grin.\n\n- Bar fights have a few parts to them. Speed is most important, but not more than focus on any cutting edge or fists. Knees don’t really play much into a fight. And when you can move faster than humans… it’s not really much of a fight.\n\nAs you can imagine, many people took the opportunity to leave before being in the fight.\n\n[Why as a biker?] I asked him.\n\n[A couple of people, there time is up.]\n\n[Isn’t that Azrael’s job?] again I asked.\n\n[Did you miss that snarling war?]\n\nHe lunged with the broken bottle and I dodged and the broken end went into one guy trying to get away from us.\n\n[Hey.] I snapped at him.\n\n[If he doesn’t die here, it’s on the road killing a good number of teenagers in a bus]\n\n[Anyone else?]\n\n[Well there’s the dude that almost out of here.] He replied.\n\nI think I knew who he was talking about [Monkey Flip into him.]\n\n[And through the plate glass window. I like it.]\n\nJordan watched as a man came through the window, land on the sidewalk and not move. Now that all that was done. “Say good night Gracie.” I said before delivering the one-two knock out.\n\n[You hit like a girl.] He said without moving.\n\n[Prick.] I said before marching out the door.\n\nI got into Jordan’s car. “Drive.”\n\n“But the cops.”\n\n“It’s not time to stick around.”\n\nHe was convinced to go.\n\ncontinues...\n\n…\nWe headed back to his place. I asked to swing by the hardware store. Jordan seemed hesitant, but acquiesced. A playful grin from a hot woman, he has some life lessons to learn.\n\nI picked up rope. Lots and lots of rope.\n…\n\nIn the wee hours back at his place...\n\n“So...” Jordan began looking at all the ropes.\n\n“I have unique tastes.” I told him with a playful smile shedding some of my clothes. \n\n“Uh huh.” Jordan.\n\n“I like to be in charge and on top.” I told him.Jordan let me tie him up in. Then I took a seat opposite him. “Well, we need to talk.” I started and transformed into my normal human look.\n\n“You’re a changeling.”\n\n“No, I’m a demon.” I explained as I changed into my hellish form.\n\n“So sex is out.” Jordan\n\n“I can be either gender as a demon. But no, demons don’t have sex organs.”\n\n“SO...”Jordan couldn’t choke out the question.\n\n“Am I smooth like Ken and Barbie down there, yup. Demon, we torment humans, not please them.”\n\n“But there are stories about demons seducing humans.” Jordan.\n\n“That’s succubus and incubus. They aren’t demons. They are a completely different thing.” \n\n“It would be helpful if there was a manual about this.” Jordan lamented.\n\n“It’s called the Bible.” I said. “Well, it was in it, until that last big change oh about twelve hundred years ago.”\n\n“So the devil charged me with protecting you.”\n\n“Isn’t that an angel’s job?”\n\n“Yes. I’ve asked someone to look into that.”And then Dmitry appeared. \n\n“Skip.” He said as he headed to the fridge. \n\n“Wait. You’re name is Skip?” Jordan stated with the laughter bubbling up.\n\nAnd that’s when I went full hell demon mode. Big wings, setting his place on fire. “Skip!” Dmitry shouted.\n\n“Killjoy.” I uttered. The fire disappeared. Dmitry returned with a beer.\n\n“You drink?” He questioned with a furrowed brow.\n\n“Yeah, when we’re down here.” Dmitry stated as he took a seat on the couch. \n\n“So there’s no beer in heaven?” Jordan asked.\n\n“Nope.”\n\n“That sucks.” Jordan stated.\n\n“We’ve put it in the suggestion box, but no one is going to take it to the all mighty.” Dmitry answered. “Nice rope work.”\n\n“Thanks. I really appreciate that.”\n\nContinued…\n\n“It reminds me of Shibari.” Dmitry commented on my handy work.\n\n“That’s my cousin.” I replied.\n\n“Wait. You have cousins?” Jordan questioned. \n\n“It’s ah… complicated.” I said. I really didn’t have time for a long discussion on demons lore and truth.“Look. Just stay within treaty and you’ll have no problems.” Dmitry said.\n\n“And are you going to tell us about where your guardian angel is?” I asked.\n\n“Well… you see, there’s an issue there.” Dmitry started. “It appears he was assigned an angel at birth.”\n\n“Great. Who’s the asshole on your team that I need to plant my size ten in?”\n\n“Azrael.”\n\n“The ninth archangel.”\n\n“Yup.” Dmitry said in between swigs. \n\n“The one who serves death itself.” \n\n“Uh-huh.” Dmitry again downed another portion of beer. Burped, “So, I figured I wouldn’t bother the much busy angel and keep an eye on you myself.”\n\n“You just want to get drunk.” I said calling him out.\n\n“Well… there is that. But some angel has to keep an eye on you.”\n\n“Azrael is an archangel.” Jordan said in disbelief.\n\nDmitry and I spoke at the same time, “Bible.”\n\n“That was odd.” Dmitry uttered.\n\n“Yeah, let’s not do that again.” I said.“So… you’re going to protect him so I can go back to tormenting humans?”\n\n“No. I’m only here because you are.” Dmitry said.\n\n“So the minute I’m gone, he’s without protection.”\n\n“’Fraid so.” Dmitry said. “I’m kinda hoping that you stick around.”\n\n“Back to the drinking thing again.” I said.\n\nDmitry turned to Jordan, “Any chance I can get you to go to Amsterdam?”\n\n“Why?” Jordan asked.\n\n“Because they have over 600 kinds of beer there.” I said.\n\n“Need a passport?” Dmitry asked.\n\n“Are you going to enable him?” I asked Jordan.\n\n“Sadist.” Dmitry snarked back\n\n“It’s kind of the job I was created for.” I answered back. \n\n….\nAmsterdam.",
"The courtroom was tense. An erie miasma seemed to be blanketing the room, although I was the only one that could see it. The judge started.\n\n\"Seeing how this was a grave and therefore a grusome and heinous crime, but given your guilty plea, 30 years minimum, to be reprimanded at the Glavine Federal Correction institute. His gavel splintered into pieces as he pounded it into his bench.\n\n\"Shit.\" I thought. \"Please don't, not here\" I whispered to myself.\n\nThe miasma swirled around me, and that familiar seductive female voice whispered in my ear. \"Don't worry honey, I'm with you til the end.\"\n\n\"God please kill me.\" I thought.\n\n*1 year later*\n\nI hadn't seen the dark miasma nor heard the voice for one full year. \n\nPrison wasn't as bad as people speculated. Upon my arrival no other inmate came close to me. In fact everyone stayed as far away from me as they could. 5'5\", scrawny, sickly looking white kid. I was 17 when the trial started, old enough to be tried as an adult. I figured the world was a safer place with me locked up. No death penalty in this state.\n\nApparently we had some new arrivals that day.\n\nIt was dinner time at this point. I ate in solitude and silence everyday. I had a penpal I wrote to outside of prison. She was apart of one of those outreach programs for inmates. I relished the letters I got from her. She was a foreign college student, her name was Xi. She was studying to be a veternarian and I was working on what religious studies I could, trying to find some answers on what entered my life over a year ago, that led to so many grusome deaths, which landed me here.\n\nWe get herded back to our prison cells, which I housed to myself, and upon arriving to my cell a package awaited me on my cot. It was from Xi. The contents of the envelope were a book. *Paranormal & Demonlogy Studies*. By Dr. Herchel Mizer. His picture on the back was of a elderly grayed man. European.\n\nI dove into my book and slowly fell asleep reading.\n\nThe next day I awoke, book on the ground, I guessed it fell during the night. It was opened to a page.\n\nIt read, *Protective Spirits\n\nThese spirits are attached to a unique individuals soul that watch over and guide the living. These spirits are known to keep people and possibly their loved ones out of trouble, clearing away harmful opposition for their masters.*\n\nI skimmed through some more...\n\n*There have been some cases of a spirit being attached to an individuals soul through ancient blood magic. Spirits that are attached to certain family names and its members. A ritual is performed and a family spirit is attached to one individuals soul from a family, but one is almost never exposed to harmful effects from the spirit itself, however consequences in the material world were inconcequnetial to the spirit itself. They have one job, protect its master from harm.*\n\nA cold shudder phased through my body and a single thought entered my mind. \"I performed no ritual\" I thought outloud.\n\nIt was time for breakfast and I exited the cell, shaking from confusement.\n\nBreakfast came and went and I proceeded to my daily job of packaging liscense plates in unaddressed envelopes to be shipped. I itched with anticipation to get back to my reading and writing another thank you letter to Xi.\n\nThe door to my work area opened and a burly who had to be over 6' man entered.\n\n\"So you're Farrel?\" as the manly voice approached. \"I'm supposed to be your new assistant, I'm Whitaker, Harvey Whitaker.\"\n\n\"Assistant?\", I gulped, my adolesent voice shrieked. \"Um, okay, all we do is put the plates from production in envelopes, and then put them in the bin here.\"\n\n\"We take the label off the plate and put it on the envelope too. Thats it. Simple enough, right?\" a small smile appeared on my face but I was white as a ghost from confusion. *No one ever assisted me* I thought.\n\nIn a cold and empty voice Harvey said, \"Simple like chopping up my niece.\"\n\nMy jaw drops.\n\nHarvey reaches out and begins choking me.\n\n\"Harvey\" , I gasped, \"don't-do-this\" choking between words.\n\nI begin to black out, but before I do, I see that familiar mist rise up from the earth and hear that same twisted laughter and black out.\n\n***\n\nI come to. I try to stand but slip.\n\nMy vision blurry, I realize what happened, the same thing that happened to those muggers, that night... more than two years ago.\n\nHarvey's now a wall decoration and I am covered with blood. His intestines thrown up like party banners flairing where the walls meet the cieling of the room. His head perched on a liscence plate that was embedded into a wall, below the head his torso was also embedded and impaled with liscence plates and hung to the drywall. Arms and legs no longer attached to the midsection but also decorating the wall beneath and around the torso area respectively.\n\nI get light headed from the grusome scene, and I hear that voice once more, she lets out a sigh as if she had orgasmed moments before.\n\n\"Ahhh, its been so long since someone tried to harm you. Thought this room could use a little more art. It defintely pops now.\" she giggled.\n\n\"You were gone!\" I screamed. \"Not again.\" I blubbered. Without thinking I try to slice open my neck with the edge of a liscensecplate, but it won't budge.\n\nRising up from the miasma, I a figure takes form, and the room suddenly stinks of sulfur. A naked woman covered in blood emerges from the dark mist her hand staying mine. She has glowing dark red eyes. Black hair, a brownish rustlike skin and reeks of the dead.\n\n\"Oh no my love, I can't even allow you to harm yourself. That wouldn't be fun at all.\" her voice and face pouting.\n\nI feel the pulse of shock course through my body.\n\n\"I-I\" I stammer as I lose control of my breath witnessing the sadistic being in front of me.\n\n\"This prison's getting boring my dear, its time for a new venue!\" her hand carressing over my face.\n\nShe winks at me and says, \"Time for a breakout!\"\n\nI black out.\n\n***\n\nFeedback welcome. Just a amateur practicing more writing."
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[WP] You are able to read thoughts, but only by touch. One day you attend a funeral.
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"It had happened out of nowhere. My father had had a heart attack at work, and had died. We were all of us shocked by it. He was only sixty-two and was in considerably good health. Sure, he drank his fair share of whiskey neats and ate red meat at nearly every meal, but this was just...\n\nAs I stood to the left of the the casket with my mother and siblings, the funeral service having just concluded, I wiped at my eyes and took several deep breaths. My mother to my right was holding it together as best she could, but I could tell she was a hair's breadth from losing it. My brothers and sister to my left seemed the same.\n\nAs the ushers began to allow the funeral attendees to begin making their way to the front of the church sanctuary to view the body and offer their condolences, I sighed and mentally braced myself. I had meant to wear gloves, but had forgotten them in all the grief and the rush to make it to the church on time. Now I was going to have to shake the hand of every one of these people, and that meant I was going to hear every one of their thoughts.\n\nThe first ten or fifteen minutes went by ever so slowly, relatives whom I knew well or had not seen in years making their way down the line and hugging my family and I, offering condolences as they went. I tried to touch each one as briefly as possible. Some of them I offered a light, quick hug that allowed me to avoid skin to skin contact. With most, I was not so lucky.\n\nMost of the people that came by were thinking pretty much the same thing. *He was too young,* their thoughts screamed at me as I shook their hands. *Mike was such a good man. Always had a quick smile and an awful dad joke,* others told me as their mouths moved to create the words to say the same aloud. These all made me both sad that I had lost my best friend in the world, and happy that he had made such an impact on so many lives.\n\nJust as the family had all departed to the foyer, the rest of those who had come to the service began to appear at the head of the consolation line and make their way through. As I shook each hand, it really began to sink in just how admired and loved my father had been. Friends from his work, college, high school, and even just his every day life offered words-and thoughts-of kindness.\n\nMy family and I had been shaking hands and offering our thanks to strangers for coming for a solid forty-five minutes when he approached. After muttering a few words of kindness to my mother, he moved to me.\n\n\"I worked with your dad,\" he said without preamble. \"Hell of a guy.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" I said. \"He was one of the best men I knew.\" The man merely nodded and grunted as he extended his hand to me. I took it reluctantly and forced a smile on my face, shaking his hands.\n\n*I can't believe I'm getting away with it,* his thought hit me like a freight train. *That's right, Son. I poisoned your father to look like he died of a heart attack. Smug bastard had it coming.*\n\nI froze. I couldn't believe what I had just heard. This man had murdered my father? He was staring at me, smiling. He tried to take his hand back, but I gripped his hand tighter, staring him in the eye.\n\n\"That's a uh-pretty strong grip you got there, Son,\" he said. *What is this kid's problem?* \"Mind if I have my hand back?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" I said after a moment and released his hand. He shook it out and started to move down one to speak to my sister. \"What did you say your name was?\" I asked him.\n\n\"Oh, just a friend of your dad's from work,\" he said and engaged Stacy with an extended hand. I watched him for a moment, careful to keep my face neutral. I felt my mother slip an arm around my waist and I looked down at her.\n\n\"What's going on?\" she asked. \"You're staring pretty hard.\" I shook my head slightly.\n\n\"Do you know who that guy is that's talking to Stacy?\" I asked.\n\n\"I think his name is Gary,\" she replied. \"He worked with your dad. \n Why? What's up?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" I said. \"Just curious.\"\n\nIt was three days later that I was crawling through a window in the rear of his small two bedroom house with a garrote wire, a hunting knife, and a small handgun just for backup. I couldn't tell anyone how I knew this fucker had killed my dad, but I sure as hell wasn't going to let him get away with it. "
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[WP] You die and wind up in hell. Only to find out that since you were a shrink you have been assigned to be the devils personal therapist.
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"I shift uncomfortably in my \"seat\". The cushions in hell were designed to never feel comfortable, and as a therapist, this is frustrating. A comfortable chair is necessary so you can concentrate on your patient. He's been looking at me now for a few moments, as he'd been going on for some time about lack of appreciation for his work. I gulp and respond. \n\n\"Um, how does that make you feel, Satan?\"\n\nThe Devil wasn't what many would expect. He was a shorter, white, small-boned. He wore thick-framed glasses that he constantly adjusted. His voice was nasally, not ferocious.\n\n\"Heh, it's actually Satanhank McReynolds. Humans just don't... need me anymore. I don't feel useful. What's the point in whispering.. '...stahhbbb Janett....' in a little boy's ear when he already did it 20 times in virtual reality yesterday? He just gets the context all wrong. Why should I evilly suggest '..fire poor employeeess...' to the rich CEO when he just moved 50,000 jobs to automation that morning?\"\n\n\"It's like they're a step ahead of me now. Tempting people to sin as a major was a terrible idea. I might as well have gotten a degree in Cartography. Everyone already has a way better template. They've Google Maps'd their way around Satan.\"\n\n\"Wait, what?\" I stammer in shock.\n\nThe sweat pouring down my back from the terribly warm room no longer irritates me. I forget about the threat of being thrown into boiling vats over and over if the session doesn't go well. Satan looks at me confused until I manage to continue.\n\n\"You went to a school for this? I thought there was just one eternal Satan.\"\n\nHe grinned. There was a noticeable gap between his front teeth.\n\n\"Oh, it's eternal for humankind, in a way. It's just much too long for you to fathom. Let's see...\"\n\nHe started to do some mental work as if he were working out a problem.\n\n\"50,000.. carry the 4... plus the secondary.. yeah. Yeah. About 653 quadrillion years until I'm done.\"\n\nWow. I thought forever was forever. \"So... 650-some odd quadrillion years is the same as eternity?\"\n\n\"Well it certainly feels that way. I'm just stuck in this job for that long until I can afford to work on my true passion of independent torture device development.\"\n\nOk, this may work. I begin to think. These are problems I worked with before with patients when I was alive.\n\n\"Mr. McReynolds.. may I call you Satanhank? Why not just take the plunge now? What forces in your life are really keeping you from pursuing your passions? So many people just go for it.. and few regret it.\"\n\nHe lets out a long, painful sigh. Smoke seeps out of his nostrils. \"I just can't afford it. I can't move on to a better job that I enjoy more until these student loans are paid off, and there's no loan forgiveness, no bankruptcy, no checks on tuition inflation. The system here has just gone straight up to Heaven.\"\n\nMy jaw drops. Even Satan was screwed. And I'm stuck here with him for his entire painful 'eternity'. I start to consider the boiling vats as the better alternative.\n\n\"Ok. Well my job is to listen and help you feel better. Let's dig in.\"\n"
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[WP] We didn't want for anything, except everything.
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"*We didn't want for anything, except everything.*\n\n​\n\nThe sentence glared at me from the worn page, written in The Old Tongue. It was the last page in the journal I had found among rubble. It belonged to someone from a civilization long lost. That very same civilization was responsible for the ruins that remained of this dying world. What was once a utopia for all of mankind had fell into shambles when humanity's greatest enemy, boredom, struck. Wars were waged for naught but sport. Eventually, sport and competition grew into malice and hate. It ended by going nuclear, both figuratively and literally. Much of the history was lost in the following decades, though I sometimes found scraps of information here and there. Not like it mattered much now, anyway...\n\n​\n\nI closed the journal and put it away in my rucksack. The light was fading and it was time for me to find shelter for the night. I stood up and dusted myself off before scanning the wasteland. In the distance, there was smoke. Perhaps I'd find a kindred soul, but that tended to be wishful thinking more oft than not. The people the remained tended to be extremely hostile. I didn't feel like killing of being killed today, so I set off in a direction that veered away from the smoke. \n\n​\n\n*You may have not wanted for anything, but you left us with nothing.*"
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[WP] A story written from the POV where the protagonist realises he's only an antagonist in someone elses story
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"**Sal, Upon waking.**\n-----\nI tore out of my covers, figuratively speaking, thankfully. The morning's first light trickled through the curtains, giving them a divine air. If only my dreams were uninterrupted, I might find it comforting. But no! I got to argue with one of apparently *several* gods last night, only to learn in the end that I was on this bronze age planet for a reason. And not for some divine reason, but a selfish one: stir up trouble.\n\nMy whole job was to stir up trouble. I was a stick in the cog of some designed world order for a planet I was happily ignorant of in the first place. And to top it all off, I was chosen by mistake! I was the wrong fucking person!\n\n(Unfinished)",
"I've lost. After six hundred years of peace and stability. It's all crumbling down as I speak. From dust to dust. The kingdom I've built, the lives I've sown, the blood and sweat of thousands poured to unify the lands. How?\n\nEverytime I seem to have him cornered, he miraculously pulls himself back from defeat into an overwhelming victory. He started from nowhere. NOWHERE! I killed his rebellious fool of a master. I crushed his resistance force over and over again. I even convinced his greatest allies to join me against him. How????\n\nYole Village, rookie swordsman against a general with 15 years of combat experience. General gets beheaded. Plains of Thuron, small band of 7 against a well-trained force of 150, crushing victory. Siege of Kairn, resistance force of 805 against the most heavily guarded fortress on the borders of Rhudaria, hailed as an \"impossible victory\". Ghorm the Hammer could have crushed the force single-handedly, but he was apparently beaten by that fool who wasn't even HALF his size. The list goes on and on. I just can't win against him!\n\nHe's now outside my castle, laying waste to its keep and storming the gates. All the seers and oracles swore that this day would never happen. It was as if God himself was dictating the life of this man. He just overcame a force of 70000 of my most battle-hardened and ferocious warriors, some of which who have been with me since I first set out to bring peace to all the lands. Have I not suffered enough? Am I not deserving of at least the smallest gratitude from my people? The ones I sought to protect and preserve from infighting and civil war? Everything I've done. I'VE BUILT! ALL FOR THEIR SAKES, AND YET THEY FLOCK TO HIM AS IF HE WAS THEIR SAVIOUR. THEY KNOW NOTHING OF THE THINGS I'VE DONE FOR THEM. THE WHOLE REALM WOULD BE IN CHAOS IF NOT FOR ME. DEMONS SPEWING FORTH FROM THE OTHERLANDS OF WOLGAR, BARBARIANS FROM DORNLAND, BEASTMEN OF THE VOREEN EMPIRE. ALL CRUSHED BY MY HANDS, MY BLOOD AND MY FRIENDS!\n\nI slam my fist into my war table, its hard metal straining under my great might. The floor cracks underneath the weight and my crystal ball wobbles unsteadily, but remains. On it, a lone figure climbs the stairs, a suit of followers steadily tailing him. He's almost here. He'll have to face his greatest challenge yet, my bodyguard Turion the Black, formerly his best friend and strongest companion. A man like him who lusted for power was easy to turn. I do dislike trickery and deceit, but one had to be ruthless to stay in power for this long.\n\nHe stops in his tracks, intently gazing at something beyond the eyes of my magical sight. Turion is there. Finally, this will be his end. Must be. Turion's might outstripped even mine, granted I was late in my years, but he might have even put up a good fight against me in my prime. I clutch the table hard, again straining the metal, producing uncomfortable whines and creaks. He moves forward, sword lowered but gaze unfettered. YES. YES YES YES. STRIKE HIM DOWN NOW TURION, HIS PRIDE WILL BE HIS DOWNFALL! But as he continued up the steps, a sinking feeling burgeoned within me, I knew something was wrong. Then I saw it, and my wicked smile turned into a soulless look devoid of all happiness. There stood Turion, sword lowered and man broken. He was hunched down, head in his hand and presumably crying for his chest rose and fell in an unsteady rhythm. I collapse back into my seat. I'm ruined. The most ruthless warrior, second only to my past self, lay there broken and crying in the face of my greatest foe. Of all times to have a moment of crisis and regret, he choses now. Not when I told him to massacre the barely armed forces of the resistance, nor when he unquestioningly turned his back on his closest friends and sold out their location to my assassins; now when I needed him the most, he chose to abandon me.\n\nI've lost. This is it. I'm not the hero in this story. I'm not the one destined to overcome all odds and save the day. That story has long passed. In its place shall rise a new one, with a new hero and a fresh retelling of how he, against a foe so ferocious and strong, managed to best him and prove his mettle as the chosen one. No. I shall not acquiesce to this injustice. I will not give him the glory he deserves.\n\nAs I hear the echo of footsteps dimly in my great halls, my nerves tense up. I have anticipated, against all my instincts, that it would come to this. A final showdown in my throne room. I don my armour behind me, a great suit of red and black, the same one that struck terror into the hearts of the great warlords once before. I mutter an ancient mantra and a red portal opens from the ground. Amidst the dark smoke and demonic glow rises my weapon, the great mace Thanatos, forged from the blood and souls of the lives I've taken to reach here. I reach out to grab it, one final time, the feel of it in my hands bringing a wave of warmth and familiarity. If I should die, it should be with the greatest respect to my past and all the deeds, moral or immoral, that I've done. He's here.\n\nA man stands across me, wearing his armor of silver with the crest of a lion embossed onto the chest plate. His equally golden mane flowing in the hot wind of my infernal chambers. I sacrificed much comfort to rule, leaving the best lands for my people to live, and this is how they repay me. Beside him stood Turion, that fucking traitor. The silence is thick and heavy in the room and there are no signs of movement between the three of us. I can feel the hatred in his eyes, and yet I hope he can see the unwillingness in mine. As I am about to open my mouth to explain my actions, Turion rushes forward at a blinding speed with a deafening shout, greatsword in hand. I'm sorry Turion. I raise my hand and suddenly black tendrils spring forth, entangling Turion. For though he was strong, he only was able to achieve his might by my hand, and by my hand I could demand it back. Turion struggled fruitlessly but his frantic floundering only served to quicken his death as all his energy and life-force drained out of him. Meanwhile the silver-clad hero stood there motionless, his mouth now agape at the horror he was witnessing. Soon all that was left of Turion was a lifeless corpse, and I release him.\n\n\"I am sorry young one. To defeat me. You must face me alone.\"\n\nAs I sombrely raise my mace and steel myself for battle, an odd sense of relief settles onto me. Was I relieved that I would be able to release myself from my endless duties? After all, managing a kingdom as great as mine was taxing not just for the body, but for the mind as well.\n\n*I hear a great cry of agony, and the sound of metal stomping against stone. He is heading for me.*\n\nNo. I devoted my life to my kingdom, no matter the cost. I still wanted to rule, to do what was best for my people. Perhaps I was relieved because I was about to lose. Maybe. Was losing the best thing for my people? Had I perhaps became a tyrant, corrupted by my exhaustingly long rule? I do not know. Who was to say what kind of an administrator he would be, or perhaps how fair and just he was in a position of power. How would he handle trade deals and diplomacy? Distribution of wealth and taxation? Preparing for the downturn in harvest or for potential wars with the Grelian Council State? As I see a blur of silver racing towards me, my grip weakens and my hand trembles. No, I can't die, not today. But yet I must be defeated, for is that not this man's fate? To defeat me? I take one glance at him and lock onto his gaze. That gaze full of hate, but yet in it I can see a different look. One that brought me a tinge of hope. In it was the burning justice I once had when I first waged war against the Pentagonal Warlords. In it was a spirit of righteousness and honor, one that came from the belief that his actions were serving the greatest good of his people. He and I, we were different, but perhaps very much alike. I close my eyes, and release my grip. Thanatos comes crashing down to the stone floor, producing a thunderous boom that momentarily stuns my would-be killer. Then....silence. \n\nIt continues for an eternity. Perhaps I had already been sent to meet my maker, and was now trapped outside of time. But as I opened my eyes I saw him standing there. Breath ragged, confusion waging war against his hatred that previously dominated. I slowly raise my hands, his sword immediately raised in response to my movements. Yet I remain unfazed, slowly removing my helmet and revealing my horrifically scarred face. My lips curl, slowly forming a miniscule grin. \n\n\"Lesson one hero: always recognise the strengths of your hand, and never show it until you want to make a play.\"\n\n",
"That cheerful background music is moving toward the elevator. Ryan must leaving, going to lunch or something.\n\nBut where does the music come from, and why does it follow him everywhere he goes? And why does it play whenever anyone talks about Ryan or anything about him?\n\nIt's almost as if... No. No, there's no way.\n\nOkay, *think*, Doug. Write down everything I know about myself:\n\nI'm 27, and my birthday is... shit, I don't even know if I was born in 1989 or 90! But I know I was born and raised in Iowa. But *where in Iowa*?\n\nI have a family. A wife and two kids. And their names are... *fuck*.\n\nI'm not real. I'm a fucking *movie character*. And with such a sparse backstory, I'm not even a *major* one.\n\n*Ryan* is, though. He's the *protagonist*.\n\nI'm Ryan's boss, the Director of Marketing, and--and I've been a real dick to him lately. Why? I guess because it's necessary to move the story along. Oh, and this separation paperwork... Shit, I'm about to *fire Ryan*.\n\nI'm about to drop out of the story altogether.\n\nSo what do I do now?\n\nI know. I'll write my own backstory, flesh out my character with enough detail that he can't be cast aside and never show up in Act 3.\n\nOkay, open Word...\n\nI'm 27. I was born on... Christmas Day, 1990. In Iowa Lutheran Hospital in Des Moines. My mother is Valerie Thornton. She lost her parents on the March 13th in a tornado, and I'm named after my grandfather.\n\nI was conceived in a shelter, with an 18-year-old boy named Joe that Mom never saw again. She told me my father was a Navy sailor who drowned three days before I was born, but she's going to tell me the truth later today, and I'll track Joe down.\n\nMy wife and kids... Sarah. Her name is Sarah, she's beautiful and smart, and I met her in college at... Drake University. Sarah's a promising child psychologist. Our kids are Jake and Alicia, and they're seven and five. They're both really smart, and *really* funny.\n\nI'm Director of Marketing here, but Sarah and I will write a book together called Whirlwind about our life together, as well as my origins and my search for my father, whom I'll eventually find only months before he dies of...something.\n\nOkay, Doug, you can do this...\n\n \n\n\"Hi, Ryan. Sit down.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Doug!\" He says brightly as the music lilts cheerfully. \"So, what's up?\"\n\nMy cellphone is in my lap, with my desk number showing in the dialer.\n\n\"Ryan, I know I've been kind of a jerk lately. I haven't been happy with your performance lately since you met that crazy girl and started on this madcap romance of yours, but that's no excuse. Still, I'm afraid I have to--\"\n\nMy desk phone rings, and I look at the display. \"Mom?\" I say with what I hope is a comical look of surprise. \"Just a minute, Ryan...\"\n\n\"Mom? Yeah, actually, I'm in a meeting, but-- ...Okay, what do you need to tell me?\n\n\"You lied about *what*? He *wasn't*? You met him *where*? And his name was *Joe*? That's it? *GREAT*, Mom!\n\n\"Oh, don't cry, Mom. Yes, I know it was hard to tell me. Yes, I know you were going through a lot. I know you were in a lot of stress. Of *course* I'm glad I was born, Mom. Please don't cry. Of *course* I still love you, Mom. Sarah and I will come up in a week or so and we'll just sit down and talk all about it. Of course we'll bring Jake and Alicia. It'll all be fine, Mom. Hey, Mom, could you hold on for just a few seconds?\"\n\nI hit HOLD and turn to Ryan. \"I'm sorry Ryan, but you're fired.\"\n\nThe music hits a comical crescendo, so I know that this termination will probably turn out to be a *good* thing for him.\n\nRyan is shocked by the news and its delivery, then he looks me dead in the eye. \"You're a bastard, Doug.\"\n\n\"I know,\" I reply, \"Mom just told me.\" I hand him the severance package. \"I'm sorry Ryan. Good luck.\"\n\nHe takes the fat envelope and walks out, and my world fades to black.\n\n \n\nWait--I'm **back.** But I'm in a house now, with a family. *My* family. What's going--\n\n**Voiceover:** \"Meet Doug Thornton, his beautiful wife Sarah, and their amazing kids Jake and Alicia. Their life was already topsy-turvy, but now it's a full-blown...\n\n\"*WHIRLWIND!* This fall...\"\n\nHoly shit, I'm the protagonist of a *TV series*!\n\n\"...on HBO!\"\n\nI get to have *sex* too? I'm in heaven!"
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[WP] Everyone thinks Hell is a punishment for sinners, but it's actually a correction program, those who come out the other end go to Heaven.
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"*Ding!*\n\nThis was always Bune's favorite part. His two dragon heads bobbed eagerly, panting and lapping away at the sulfuric, thick air. His human head sat still upon its elongated neck, its face an exemplar of passivity.\n\nThe doors of the Helevator flew open and from within poured a sea of newcomers. Many took in their surroundings with characteristic fear, sometimes resignation. There was a great bout of coughing as they adjusted to the air and many pardons and annoyed grunts as they ran into each other, their eyes still unable to adjust to the dimness of the Underworld. \n\nBefore they started wandering off and hurting themselves, the three-headed demon walked over and introduced himself. His human head broke into speech in a deep, comforting bass that reverberated across the lava-strewn landscape. \n\n\"Welcome to Hell,\" his voice boomed, \"Please form an orderly line and follow me.\"\n\nOne of his dragon heads spotted a particularly-sneaky newcomer breaking away from the group and added, in gravelly disapproval, \"Those who do not follow will probably get burned, crushed, stabbed, or some other variant of unpleasantness. Please, just do as you're told. We'd hate to have to fish you out of the lava and stick you in hospital.\"\n\nThe other bobbing dragon head chuckled and added, \"Oh yes, the food is very, very bad!\"\n\nBune's human head finished counting as they approached the front doors of the facility, the complex rising out of the lava and granite with characteristic intimidation and imposition. It came to a halt at about fifty stories tall, and a small canopy deployed before the doors to shield the newcomers from dripping lava. \n\n\"Welcome to the Luciferian Correctional Facility for the Unreformed,\" he picked up a stack of papers from a podium near the door and began distributing them, \"We know you've done bad things and, on behalf of everyone at the correctional facility, I would like to extend to all of you my sincerest wishes for a speedy and full rehabilitation.\"\n\nFear and resignation quickly gave way to confusion as pens were distributed and the newcomers were asked to start filling out forms.\n\n\"Remember, Heaven is just one elevator ride away!\" \n"
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(I hope I did this right, first try making a prompt)
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[WP] On a rainy night you let in a wounded girl begging for help. You treat her wounds and she spends the night at your place. Next day you wake up as the girl, alone in the house, with a note next to you. It starts with "I'm sorry..."
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"the floor is cold. thumping with the echo of dropping water above. the house is hollow, barren, unknown. i whisk away from the ground, slowly maintaining tempo, in shock, fully aware of the house that is now unfamiliar. the screams of the night prior, a blank, like a full canvas muddied in white. i let everything fall off me, dusting off garbage and clothes and crawl back into bed.\n\nin dreams, i never want to come back out. it is pure ecstasy molding in fantasy, and in my slumber i crawl into my own body and leave my thoughts there. what was darkness is rid with the pain, and the crying silenced with muted raindrops. \n\nsometimes plans do not go as planned. \ni woke up, dazed, and panned the house that i call my own. i briefly sat there, a mind of complete blankness, too scary to acknowledge if i am even breathing, and look to myself. \n\ni could not do it.\ni got up, slipped onto something that was next to me, and began cleaning the house for the second time. i started with the cold floor i passed out on, sticky now with dark blood, puke and agony. my suicide note still there, still apologizing for myself, for existing. for myself now i no longer recognize. \n\ntonight, when i leave this house once and for all, i am not the weak little girl that my parents deem, but one who will make the choice of a lifetime, that will be my last one. \n",
"The girl in the hospital bed leaned forward and the man in black robes said, “I *was* human, once…” \n\n*During the late 1800’s, while most were captured by cogs and steam, I lost days between pages and ink. My father was a watchmaker so, I was privileged enough to afford literature and visit the library at my leisure. But what I truly longed for was to meet a maiden that would steal my gaze so I could as quickly steal her heart. I wanted a love like that in books of old, I wanted a love that most only dreamt of, a love that I shouldn’t have wanted; her name was… Beatrice.* \n\n*I was passing through the cemetery to leave flowers for my late mother when I saw her standing in the moonlight. It glazed over her curved frame, highlighting her shape, and reflecting her dark veiled gown. I walked to her and asked, “Have you lost someone as well?”*\n\n*She turned her head in my direction, just enough so I could see her eyes. She then looked around as if to survey our surroundings. Her whole body then shifted in my direction and she looked at me, her eyes widened.*\n\n*“Is everything okay miss?”*\n\n*She quickly shook her head, then smiled, “Oh… how rude of me, my mind must’ve wandered…” she paused, “Yes… some time ago. I was merely paying my respects.” She motioned to a bouquet atop a grave.* \n\n*“My condolences… “ I extended a hand, “It’s quiet a nice evening for a walk, care to join me?”* \n\n*She placed her hand in mine, and we walked. We spoke of literature, music, and of dreams. We agreed to meet every night at dusk, and so, we did. We took long walks and did nothing more than talk and tease each other. We even shared a kiss once. It was fleeting, but to this day I can still remember the taste she left on my lips.* \n\n*There was one night when she looked to the stars and said, “I hope to see America one day. A new world, far from here. Far from this town and these memories.”*\n\n*“What will you do there that you cannot here?”*\n\n*“A family…a home with children.”*\n\n*“Why couldn’t you have that here?”*\n\n*She straightened a long strand of her hair, “There are things that I wish to get away from here… this life. Even if one over the seas would be simpler, it would be a peace of mind, an escape.”*\n\n*I took her hand in mine “Then we will go together.”*\n\n*She looked at me, her eyes salty. She said nothing, but placed her head upon my breast. I thought nothing of it at the time. But now, I think I understand why her eyes were glazed that night.* \n\n*The following evening, I strolled to the cemetery where we met. I brought a bouquet this time, but they were not for mother this time. I watched as dusk took the skies. Time passed, and the cold came. But Beatrice, did not. So, the next night I went again. I waited, and then decided to walk the path that we would share every evening. But, like the night before, I walked alone. So, again, I walked to the cemetery the next night… and the next, and the next. I began saving money from the work I did at my father’s shop, in hopes of helping Beatrice make her dream a reality. I walked every night, alone, for weeks. Then months.*\n\n*But one evening, during a violent storm that had been brewing for days. The thunder angrily cracked and shouted, shaking the walls of the house. But then, as I was writing at my desk, there was a knock at the door.* \n\n*It was her.* \n\n*Her black gown was drenched, I tried to help her out of it, but she insisted that I didn’t. Her body was freezing so, I laid with her on the sofa, though her body didn’t shiver. She simply curled into the space with me and said, “I’m sorry.”*\n\n*When I awoke the next morning, I found myself freezing, but Beatrice was no longer with me. I sat up from the sofa, and noticed that oddly, my clothes had been changed. I felt naked, yet there were long black robes draped from my body. There was a note on my desk, and when I read it, I heard the pieces of my heart dripping onto the ground.*\n\n*“My Dearest Dante,*\n\n*I’m sorry, but what I have done to you… you should never forgive me for. You were a such a loving, caring, and selfless young man. But, it was this that made you such a simple victim. I want to say that there is a part of me that truly cared for you, however, I’m not sure I can say that honestly. You see, the night we met, you weren’t supposed to see me. I was merely a shadow of my former self. The woman you saw was murdered, over twenty years ago. But, as fate would have it, I was cursed to walk to this earth and escort the departed to the beyond. Where that is precisely I am still unsure but, maybe one day you will know. By taking your life, I was able to take your place among the living. So, in a sense, you did help me along to reach my dream and for that I am grateful. I want to believe that what we shared was love, but the sin I’ve passed on to you was not born from love. Every evening, after the sun sets and the moon begins to rise, I will always think of you.*\n\n*Yours,*\n\n*Beatrice”*",
"\n\n I ran along the dirt path. My breaths coming fast and sharp sending a cloud of vapor up into the air behind me. “I’m sorry…” I would never to trust those words again. My legs felt like they were burning as I ran, but I couldn’t stop, not now. I had to keep going, that was rule 1. “The game never stops, so neither should you. If you stop for too long, they’ll catch you.” I’d learned to heed this rule as well as the other three. “Rule 2. If you tell anyone who isn’t playing about the game, you both lose. Rule 3. The only way to leave the game is to make someone else it. Rule 4. You can’t tag someone who has already been it, if you do, you lose.”\n\n\n Seeing some thick shrubbery off to the side of the road, I dove into it. I crouched as low as I could to the wet ground, steadying my breath and keeping it as quiet as possible. Soon I heard it, the low rumbling that I had come to fear. I didn’t dare peek out of my cover, I already knew what I would see. After a moment of silence, a red light pierced through the trees. It swept the area, casting it’s crimson light across my hiding space more than once.\n\n\n I could almost see the creature in my head, it’s hideous maw, lined with rows of razor sharp teeth, hanging open. It’s fur matted flat with the blood of those less fortunate than myself. It’s tail focusing it’s light in wide arcs, searching relentlessly for its prey.\n\n\n After a tense moment, I heard the rumbling again, this time fading off into the distance. I was safe for now. I cautiously got up from my spot and ran into the forest. I needed to find somewhere safe, somewhere to hide.\n\n\n Thankfully, my prayers were promptly answered. I broke through the trees into a large field. In the distance, a small farmhouse stood alone, surrounded by a high, chain linked fence. I rushed towards the house as storm clouds began to form overhead. Rain was good, it obscured the creature’s light. I kept running, the fence was a few meters away now. Just as I reached it, I heard the rumbling again.\n\n\n No, not here, it’s too exposed! I quickly looked up and down the fence, there was no entrance in site. I heard the creature burst out of the trees. There was no time to look for an entrance. I had to move, now. I began climbing the fence, my clothes catching and ripping on the fence. It had begun to rain now, which only made climbing more difficult.\n\n\n I couldn’t hear the rumbling anymore, but I didn’t dare look back. I was at the top of the fence now. Using what little strength I had left I hauled myself over, cutting my arms and legs as I did. I fell to the ground and bolted for the house. As I reached the door, I dared to glance back. The creature stood on the other side of the fence, its red, beady eyes staring at me. It didn’t seem angry, in fact,it seemed happy.\n\n\n I slammed on the door, which caused the creature to dash backwards towards the forest. A man opened the door and I nearly collapsed onto him. “...help me… please…” managed to choke out before my vision went dark.\n\n. \n\n. \n\n. \n\n. \n\n I awoke in the middle of the night laying in a bed. Where was I, was the monster gone? I got up, my clothes were still in shreds but my wounds were bandaged, had the man done all this? I edited the room into a small living area, where I found the man asleep on the couch. I walked over and knelt next to him. He seemed nice enough, he had a 3 day beard and was wearing a plaid shirt with jeans. He kind of looked like lumber workers in TV shows. It kind of made me feel bad for what I was about to do. I placed my hand on the man’s chest, calmly speaking the words that I had been longing to say. “You’re it…”“I’m so sorry…” I said quietly.\n\n\n I walked over to the door of the house grabbing a coat off of the rack which was in the shape of a tractor. I opened the door and stepped outside, taking a quick look back to the couch to make sure I wasn't dreaming. I was free, I had survived the game. I carefully shut the door as I began to feel the warm rays of light on my back. I turned around to leave, and I screamed…\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n I jolted awake, “I must have fallen asleep” I thought to myself. I stood up and walked over to the bedroom, which strangely was open. I looked inside, the bed was empty. Strange, I’d thought for sure that I’d put the woman there. But then again, the way my head hurt at the moment, I could have been drunk and imagined the whole thing. I went to the bathroom, maybe splashing some cold water on my face would help clear my head. As I flicked the light switch on, I nearly fell backwards, in the reflection of the mirror, I didn’t see myself, I saw the woman… I was the woman! Attached to the mirror was a small note. It was written in handwriting other than my own. I grabbed it off the mirror and began to read.\n\n\n The note began with, “I’m sorry…”\n\n\n\n//13 is dead...\n\n//14 has begun...\n\n//the game continues...",
"I had to pee, but the bed was warm and I didn’t really want to get up. It was Saturday and the sun was streaming through the line where the curtains were supposed to meet. I stretched not even bothering to fight the massive yawn that split my mouth open. \n\nRed. I blinked once and then angled my head and lifted my hands. At the ends of each finger, there were perfectly rounded fingernails expertly painted with bright red nail polish. \n\nWhat? I sat in a rush and nearly fell forward. Two extra weights pulled me forward. My eyes bugged and I stared down. Instead of my stomach there were breasts, and since I’d gone to sleep in just a pair of boxer shorts, they weren’t exactly covered. \n\nAfter a few moments of awkward staring, I fumbled beside the bed for the t-shirt I’d discarded the night before and slipped it over my head. The fabric felt rough. It made me realize just how cold the room was. With a groan, I rolled and pressed my arm into the mattress.\n\nBeside my crumpled pillow lay the smooth unused one that, until recently, had been utilized by the girl who was now only known as That Bitch. On top of That Bitches pillow was a wrinkled piece of college ruled notebook paper. \n\nI picked up the paper that, up until last night, had been the resting place of urgently needed and then forgotten phone numbers. Squished into the largest expanse of unused space was a note.\n\n*I’m sorry. You are seriously one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and I realize that this is a shitty thing to do, but I just can’t stand being a girl anymore. I have a life to get back to, and well you seemed really sensitive and like you could handle it. No offense, but who just lets a creepy injured girl into their house without thinking that something terrible might happen? Haven’t you seen any horror films? You should never trust an innocent looking chick with long brown hair. It’s a total noob move. \n\nSo there’s this witch that some dude a long time ago managed to really piss off, and she cursed him to be a woman for year. Once the year is up, he’s allowed to either stay a woman and pass the curse on through the family tree until there’s a son or he can find another dude and trick him into letting him stay the night. That’s what I did, by the way. Then they can switch places. Enjoy your year as a chick, sucker.\n\nP.S. The boobs get really old after a while.*\n\nThe letter hung in my fingers reminding me that it was a real thing. Fuck, I really had to pee. How did that work when you were a girl?\n",
"“*I’m sorry*,” read the note. “*You may not believe me, but this is the truth: My name is Lindsay Lohan and something terrible has happened to the both of us.*”\n\nI blinked my eyes, heavy with sleep and something else, something foreign and sticky, dried tar on each lash. The note ended there, the end of the page ripped, but the other half nowhere in sight. I had two questions: who the fuck was Lindsay Lohan, and where the hell was Betty?\n\nOh Betty. Sweet Betty. Broken Betty in need of a fix. With the long limbs and the round hips and the long dark hair, so real I could almost feel them. Her wounds were mostly superficial, abrasions, lacerations, a few contusions in the areas you’d expect, but the pattern of them was tricky. Betty said she had stumbled, fallen, accidentally put pretty face to pavement, but that didn’t seem altogether plausible. For one thing, they were everywhere, and for another, fresh wounds were layered atop a thatchwork of thick scars. My money was on a bad boyfriend, hopefully ex, or a long, desperate run through thick woods, though that theory could only mean one thing: she had been chased.\n\nSpeaking of which, that’s exactly what I should do. Not chase, exactly, but pursue. It wasn’t every night a woman like her wandered into my ER… well, technically into the parking lot beside it, and even more specifically onto the hood of my rather expensive never-been-sit-on-before car. But there she was, Broken Betty, and in each other’s arms the night before was as close to peace as I had found in years. And now, perhaps predictably, she had left me. Not the first. Not the last. But maybe, just maybe, the best.\n\nNow back to Lindsay fucking Lohan. Maybe it was a game Betty was playing. People were always telling me I didn’t grasp subtext. It was a failing, apparently, though I saw it as an advantage most of the time. What was I missing here? Could Lindsay Lohan be a metaphor? An alias? A pseudonym? There was only one way to find out—to go out and find her.\n\nI got out of bed, groggy and subdued, dragging my usually functional feet, the pad of my heel stepping down at odd moments. My chest felt heavy, weighed down as though I had been wearing battle armor. My abdomen was slightly distended. I had been drugged. Xyrem, maybe. Oh Betty. That’s not very nice, now is it.\n\nStepping heavily into the bathroom, I turned on the hot water and as it ran, tried to tug down my pajamas but misplaced my balance, leaning my head against the wall above the toilet tank to try to stabilize. I grappled with the waistband of my pajama pants—they couldn’t seem to break free of my hips, though they finally relented. I reached down, squaring up to the bowl as the water gushing out of the sink began to steam, and I screamed.\n\n“Where the FUCK is my dick?”\n\nI looked down. What should have been a rousing example of manhood was a pathetic hairless mound. I ran to the mirror, scraping away the condensation, and addressed the face looking back at me.\n\nBetty.\n\nAnd that’s when I saw, taped to wall, the second half of the note.\n\n“*Two things: 1) Breathe (I left an inhaler on the shelf). 2) The sooner you accept your new body, the easier it will be. It is in the name of the second that I give you this explanation: In 2003, on the set of the family friendly hit,* Freaky Friday, *in a bizarre on-set method acting accident, I inadvertently switched bodies with a cameraman named Joe. If you know anything about my career, you’ll know that’s when “my” behavior took a turn for the worse. Joe was a drinker. He ruined my name. Ever since, I’ve been able to survive by hopping from body to body, choosing a new person whenever I have the need. When I inhabit a new form, their soul switches to the closest vessel it can find, the body I just left.*\n\n*The old you is gone. The new you is named Betty McPherson, and your body used to be a barista on Hudson Street. I meant it when I said I was sorry. I wish you the best of luck.”*\n\nMy hands were shaking. My manicure was chipped. *Those hands were all over me last night*, but the paradox paralyzed me. My lungs felt full, too full, compressed in on themselves. I tried coughing, but the pitch of the little voice that squeaked out sent me into a fit of gasps and shudders. *The inhaler*, I remembered, and grabbed the small red L, flinging open the white cap and expressing the medicine into my claustrophobic insides.\n\nIt calmed me, as much as someone in a brand new body can be calm. I steadied myself, looked up, my eyes rimmed with the kohl of last night’s mascara.\n\nIn that moment, I could have felt many things—confusion, betrayal, despair—but one emotion rang truer than the rest: pure, white hot anger.\n\n“My name is Betty McPherson,” I said. “And Lindsay Lohan can go fuck herself.”",
"What the fuck!\n\nWhat the flying fuck!\n\nWhat is this?!\n\nWhat did that girl do?!\n\nOkay, calm down\n\nCalm down\n\nDeep breaths\n\nDeep breaths\n\nCalm down before you hurt yourself\n\nWhat happened last night\n\nI found a girl, wounded and begging for help\n\nI took her to my house\n\nTreated her wounds\n\nAnd gave her something to eat\n\nThen I went to bed after I put her on the couch\n\nThen I woke up like this\n\nI've become the girl\n\nNow where is me?\n\nMy body\n\nAnd where is that girl?\n\nWho's probably now in my body.\n\n...\n\n...\n\nActually, let's think about that later\n\nThis is the perfect time for experimentation.\n\n---\n\n*What would happen if I was placed in this situation.* \n\n*I appreciate criticisms and comments. If you thought there's something I can add to make it better, please let me know! Thank you for reading!*",
"The rain was still continuing. Glancing at the clock, it was still before noon. A growl reverberated through my body, like it forgot about everything it ate last night.\n\nStanding up to stretch, my lungs caught halfway.\n\n'I can't breath.' My legs gave out as i managed to take a step back towards the couch.\n\nI had half a question of why I wasn't in bed before the pain in my legs and lungs acted up. \n\nThe cold air in the house didnt even bother me despite the thin sundress I was wearing. All I could focus on was breathing, and it wasn't going well.\n\nAfter a while, I finally calmed down, and stumbled to the bathroom. It wasn't until I sat down 9n the toilet that i really woke up and noticed.\n\nMy legs were covered in blood, like the bandages i applied last night were only a layer thin.\n\nI sat there blinking, looking at them wondering why they where swinging from the toilet. It finally clicked to look in the mirror. \n\nI could only see the top half of a small girl, instead of the usual 6' me. Long silverish blond hair was drapped over my shoulders, and the sundress and dirty and stained. \n\nI looked down again, and realized I was getting blood literally all over the floor. I was suprised that a small figure could lose so much blood and still be functional.\n\nAfter rewrapping my much smaller than used to legs, I grabbed some pain meds, just in case the shock wore off. \n\nI stumbled back through my house, hoping to see any one. Like always, my house was devoid of life.\n\nI fell back down on the couch to catch my breath, and the note caught my eye instead.\n\n\"I'm sorry, you helped me out so much and all I did was leave you a body with no ownership of anything. Being left in a similar situation, i had to run due to being accused of trespassing, abduction, and possible murder. I'll do what i can to give you your body back, once I find mine.\"\n\nAnother growl ran through my body. I stood up shakily, as if my body wasn't used to carrying its light weight. I reached for a box of cereal, but I couldn't reach.\n\nI decided refrigerated pizza will have to suffice, and carried the box back to the couch. As i opened it, I realized that I had already ate most of it last night, and only a slice remained.\n\nMy body finally caught up with the first bite of cold pizza, and realized that it was cold as well.\n\nI went to grab something warmer to wear, and foumd that nothing would fit.\n\nAs if I was finally understanding the situation, a wave of panic washed over me. The blood loss caught up, and I slumped to the ground.\n\n'I don't know.'\n\nIt battered my mind as the rain battered the window.\n\nIn the same state as I found the owner of the body, I collapsed, bleeding, cold, and on the verge of unconsciousness.\n\n'I don't know' ran through my mind one final time. ",
"She came to my door in the rain. The dark night filled with thunder and lightning, like a drowned cat with nowhere to go. Her face was a mess, awash with smeared make up and soaking wet hair hiding her eyes. She pleaded for a dry bed, a place to sleep, somewhere warm to be safe for just a night. The children were asleep, the wife watches from the hallway, concern writ across her face.\n\n This woman is a stranger I thought, and yet who am I to turn away a soul in need on a dark and stormy night like this night? Worry twists my gut into knots, she could be a thief, a deviant, this could all be part of a sinister plan. Yet I look into those eyes and see only sadness, fear and desperation. She is injured, blood leaks slowly from her arm, previously hidden by the rain now brought to attention by the shelter of my own home. It is decided. Quietly, I usher her into my home, the wife tending to her wounds. We ask few questions, she gives fewer answers. A place for her to sleep is found, it is not much... but it is dry, warm and safe. \n\nShe is gone when we wake and briefly I feel relief. To explain this to the children would be difficult. But I also fear for her, gone so soon after such an injury and her mysterious appearance in the night? Who is she and how did she come to find herself in this small and unassuming place? \n\nAll seems well for a time, life turns back to normalcy, the storms have passed and no further intrusions in the night are met. But then they came, first with a knock and a polite word. They ask of her, who she was to us, why she came to our door, where she is now. We have no answers, she was a stranger we tell them, a woman in the night in need of hospitality. They rebuke us. Who allows a stranger to enter their home in the night? The home of their children? Of their wife? Who lets this person sleep in their house, unwatched, unmonitored, free to roam and do as she pleases? I know not how to answer but to give the truth... It is the duty of all good citizens to render aid... she was simply a lost woman in a storm, what else was there to do? Surely we could not have left her to the elements?\n\nWe are rebuked. Traitor they say, conspirator, agent of the enemy. Fosterer of those who would harm the nation, the leader, the people. But we know not of any conspiracy, of any plots. And we are rebuked.\n\nThey leave for a time, but we are shaken, afraid. Did we do wrong by taking in a simple woman in need of help? Should we have rejected a lost soul out into the weather to die upon the road in cold hardship? To do so is unthinkable and yet we are told we have done wrong.\n\nThe night is once again dark and stormy, filled with thunder, lightning and sheeting rain. The wind howls and and tree branches moan, cracking against the windows. A knock comes at the door and for a moment I hesitate. Could this be her again? The woman once lost in the rain? The wife is afraid, I am too. With much trepidation I approach the door and unlatch it. I open the door slowly to reveal not the woman but they. They have returned on this night, rain drenched and full of malice. With a scream I attempt to close the door. A slam from they keeps it open, left ajar they push through and press me against a wall. The wife screams, waking the children who cry out in confusion. They take me in restraints and drag me out into the cold night, screaming against the storm and against the rain to no avail. \n\nAll seems well for a time, life turns back to normalcy, the storms have passed and no further intrusions in the night are met.",
"*I'm sorry.*\n\n*Your life is not yours anymore. It is now mine till my mission is completed.* \n\n*Everything I say past this point will annoy you more than anything that came before it but I'll need you to read, understand and keep this note, even if you doubt me and you're willing to tell the police on me. They will suggest you see a therapist or a psychiatrist. They will be wrong.* \n\n*And it's understandable.* \n\n*Your current belief of the world and how it works is fundamentally flawed because your 'eyes' haven't been opened to see the things I see. There are shadows lurking underneath everything, a darkness that has been growing since the Creator left us to our devices. There is so much you don't know and my brethren have all failed in their versions. I hope to not. Reality depends on this. As such, I have chosen you as one of my Champions. One of the few who will assist me in pushing back this darkness that is looming over humanity.* \n\n*You don't have to believe in me. That is fine. But they believe in you. I have marked you now, so they will come for you. And they won't stop. You will see things you've never seen before. Your friends and family will treat you different because of what is in them and what controls them. Your world is never going to be the same anymore* \n\n*You can't do anything to free them till you come to me. Till you choose to open your 'eyes' completely.* \n\n*You are the last of my chosen, and my most important piece.* \n\n*Find me when you're ready.* \n\n*And for your own sake, and for the sake of the world.* \n\n*Don't take too long.* \n\n*You can find me at the zenith of your 'world', the only place where you feel your most complete. We will be waiting for you there.* \n\n*Take care, and watch the shadows.* \n\n---\n\nI re-read the note on my kitchen counter before cursing. I throw it into trash and go about my daily routine. \n\n*Last time I ever help anyone*, I tell myself. \n\nI mean, why would I? I help a person and they don't even have the decency to tell me a proper goodbye. They instead write some hogwash about darkness and shit. Whatever. In any case, they won't affect my day. Today is the day I win the contract my whole year has been building towards. \n\nAnd that's all I need to care about. \n\nI walk to the fridge and retrieve a bottle of milk before hearing the quiet vibration of my phone on the counter. I put the bottle down, removing a bowl from the cupboard above the cooker. I figure some cereal to start the day will be ideal. I hear my phone vibrate again. \n\nI put the bowl down and walk towards it. I check the notification and I see a message that makes me scratch my head. It is from an unknown number. \n\n> **Unknown Number:** Are you going to open the door, Jonathan? We're waiting for you...\n\nI walk to my door and peer through the peephole. There's no one at the door. I chuckle quietly. I turn away from the door when my phone vibrates again. \n\n> **Unknown Number:** We saw your eyeball. You're in! Fabulous. Open the fucking door!\n\nI stop in my tracks and quickly return to peering through the hole. I see no one and I can feel the hairs on my skin rise. \n\nWhat the heck is going on?\n\n---\n\n/r/EvenAsIWrite for more stories. :) \n\nFeedback is always appreciated. ",
"Grey storm clouds gathered in the distance, approaching slowly. The air smelled like rain, and I sighed deeply, content. I loved the smell of rain. I looked up and down the dirt road in front of my inn, just to check and see if anyone happened to be coming along looking for shelter. It had been a quiet day, and the signs of the coming storm had been present for a few days; not many people would be traveling in this area. That was good; I wouldn’t have to deal with a bunch of spooked horses in my stable. I scratched the back of my head as I looked up at the roof of my inn. I had recently patched the roof, so the water shouldn’t leak in anywhere. I ran through the checklist in my head of everything I had I do to prepare for a storm.\n\nI’d already moved the firewood indoors, the stables where locked up to keep wild animals from sheltering there. The lantern was lit with enough oil to last through the nights, a beacon to any poor souls caught in the storm. Everything was set.\n\nI walked back inside, pulling the wooden door shut behind me, and looked about the first floor of my inn. The chairs where all set on top of the tables, and the cobblestone floor was mopped clean. The central hearth burned warmly with the fire I had built in the morning. I added some wood to the fire, and went to double check my supply of wine and mead in the back. This storm meant that I wouldn’t be able to restock for a while. I’d need to adjust the price. I did some math in my head, and marked the new prices on a piece of parchment. I brought the parchment behind the bar and placed it on one of the shelves next to the clean glasses. After that, I went up to the second story where all the rooms were located. I tightened up the sheets on some the made beds, and satisfied that the rooms where prepared for customers, went back down to the bar, and sat in the comfy chair behind the counter. The empty inn was quiet, and I was content with my work.\n\nDad had taught me well, before he passed. I frowned as I thought about how I’d have to visit him and Mom’s graves after the storm to make sure they hadn’t washed away or been damaged in the storm. I kept their resting place tidy, and wasn’t keen on the idea of a storm annihilating all my hard work.\n\nI sighed and picked up the lute that rested against the bar, and began strumming a quiet tune. I missed the days that I used to simply earn tips playing music for the customers while my parents worked the inn. I’d need to find a bard or minstrel to hire to fill my old position. Lately I’d had too many travelers ask why the place was called ‘The Songbird’s Roost.’\n\nI messed up a chord, and my mouth twisted at how rusty I was. Only a year ago, I’d been planning to go to the city to pursue a career as a musician, but that all changed when Dad got sick. Mom had passed years ago, but despite that, Dad had still encouraged me to go. I wasn’t going to leave once he started slowing down, though. This inn had been in our family for generations, and someone needed to keep it going. When Dad passed I took ownership of the place, and I was going to stay until I found a worthy buyer, someone who wouldn’t tarnish the name of The Songbird’s Roost.\n\nI laughed at myself. I was doing a fine job keeping the place running, but at 17, I was probably the youngest person to ever hold ownership. I lacked a lot of experience to truly live up to the quality and work ethic my father was capable of. Even if just a little, I had probably tarnished the name a bit myself.\n\nI started the song I was playing over, and this time didn’t mess up. I smiled as I stuck the last chord. As the sweet sound of the lute faded, I noticed that it had begun to rain.\n\nThe storm had arrived.\n\n​\n\n\\---\n\n​\n\nA loud bang sounded from the door, and I jerked awake, accidentally strumming an odd chord on the lute. I waited for a moment, shaking off the sleep, and heard a boom of thunder resonate against the constant patter of rain on the roof. I stood, setting my lute on the bar, and hesitated, unsure if I’d really heard a knock on the door or if it had been thunder.\n\nThen there was another knock on the door, though I suppose it was more like desperate pounding. I ran around the bar and dashed to the door, hoping the traveler hadn’t been standing there for too long. I swung the door open, and a girl fell into me with all her weight; she’d been leaning on the door. I caught her in my arms, but staggered back off balance and fell on my ass. I was about to push her away, when a smell rose above the earthy smell of rain and stung my nose.\n\nBlood. I looked up at the open door, and on the side that she had been leaning I saw a deep red liquid running down the wood. I stood, lifting the girl with me. “Where are you hurt?” I asked quickly, skipping the pleasantries. She looked up at the sound of my voice, and our eyes met.\n\n“Everywhere,” she spoke, her voice strained. There was blood running down her face from a gash over her eyebrow, but that didn’t look to be too bad a wound. Her injuries were probably hidden by her clothes.\n\nEven with me steadying her, she wobbled weakly. I began walking her towards the bar; behind the counter was my own room, where I could lay her down and treat her wounds. “What did this to you? An animal? A person? Is someone after you?” I asked as I led her.\n\nShe nodded. “People after me… but I lost them a while ago, in the storm.”\n\nMy gut twisted in my stomach, both at the cruelty with which this girl had been attacked, and at the prospect of trouble following her. I’d have to prepare. I walked her into my room, and laid her down on the small bed. “Try to relax. I’ll treat your wounds in a moment,” I told her. She winced as she laid down, and didn’t respond. I ran back to the front door, and stepped into the rain just long enough to snuff out the lantern. Even in the few seconds that took, I was soaked. I closed and locked the door behind me as I retreated inside, and then returned to the girl. She had already removed her outer layers, and was laying in her undergarments. Normally I would have blushed seeing a girl about my age in such a state of undress, but I was immediately distracted by the many open rounds over her body. Some marks looked like they were made with a dagger, other by a dog’s bite. She was a mess. Aside from the open wounds, she was also covered in scars from previous injuries. With the blood and dirt that coated her body it was hard to make out, but there was also a black tattoo covering much of her torso, and it looked like it continued onto her back.\n\nI only hesitated a moment before moving to the shelf in my room. I pulled down a basket full of medical supplies; this wasn’t the first time I’d treated an injured traveler. I knelt next to the bed, and began cleaning her wounds. Her breathing became struggled as I worked. “… What’s your name?” I asked her.\n\n“Tana,” she told me before crying out shortly as I wrapped a bandage around a wound in her leg.\n\n“My name is Ahndel… This wound in your side here… I’ll need to stitch it shut,” I warned her.\n\n“Go ahead. I can take it,” she assured me.\n\nFrom the basket, I produced a small piece of leather. “I should have given this to you as soon as I started cleaning your wounds,” I said, more to myself than to her. I held the leather in front of her mouth. She lifted her head slightly and closed her teeth around the material. I fetched a sewing needle and some string, and took a deep breath.\n\nThe second the needle pierced her skin, she whined hoarsely, her voice barely muffled by the leather her teeth were digging into. Her hand gripped my shoulder and she squeezed, her nails digging into my skin. I ignored it, and sewed her wound shut. Then I moved on to the next task.\n\nA short time later, Tana passed out. Her breathing had become stable, and though she’d lost a lot of blood, it seemed like it wasn’t enough to kill her. I laid out some extra clothes for her to put on when she woke up and then grabbed a change of clothes for myself. Even though she was asleep, I left my room and went to change in the main room of the inn. The fire had died down considerably, and I decided that was best. The windows were boarded shut due to the storm, but the less light escaping from the cracks, the better. I didn’t think her pursuers would have continued through the violent storm, but there was always a chance.\n\nI changed out of my wet, and now blood stained clothes, and set them by the hearth. I donned the fresh clothes and pulled a chair up to the fire. I’d have to be on guard for the night. There was no way I could sleep ignorantly in this situation.\n\nEven as I thought that, I felt myself begin to nod off. It had been a long day already, and the stress of treating a badly injured traveler had exhausted me. Despite my best efforts to fight off my tiredness, it prevailed, and I drifted off as the dying fire crackled warmly.",
"I have been told I am a soft touch. No, that's putting it too mildly -- I'm one of those suckers they say is born every minute. So when the girl - Alissa, she said her name was - came to my door all battered and bruised, yeah, of course I helped her. Of course I completely skipped over the part where I asked any number of important questions you ask before letting a stranger into your home.\n\nNo, I just got out the first aid kit, bandaged her cuts and scrapes, and made her a cup of hot tea while she sniffled and looked at me with big blue doe eyes full of gratitude and vulnerability. I tried talking her into calling the cops or at least going to a hospital, but she sang me a song about an abusive ex-boyfriend searching for her, and how she feared for her life if she contacted any kind of authority. Predictably, *that* tune made my big stupid heart break and my *tiny stupid brain* shut down completely. I told her I'd let her stay the night. I had a flight to catch in the morning, but on the way to the airport I'd drop her off at a women's shelter I knew of where she'd be safe. She hugged me, and cried, and thanked me...and I just *ate it up.* I could plead recent illness addling my mind, but that'd be dishonest -- it wasn't sickness, it was just stupid.\n\nMaybe I shouldn't have been surprised. This is a recurring theme. People have conned me all my life. I've been conned out of money, out of jobs...being conned out of my body was a first, though.\n\nWhen I woke the next morning, I found myself in the guest room -- where I'd put *her* to sleep last night. I screamed when I saw my reflection in the mirror by the bed. And for probably ten minutes thereafter.\n\nI was *her.* The battered, bruised, sunken-eyed waif I'd dragged in off the street last night...I was in *her body.* When I recovered enough to move, I ran in a panic through the house, searching for...well, *me.* But *my* body was nowhere to be seen. Nor, I discovered, was my phone, my car keys, the bags I'd packed, or my freaking *ticket to Hawaii!* What I did find after I circled back into the guest roo, was a note -- in a hand disturbingly similar to my own.\n\n*I'm sorry. You seem like an okay lady.*\n\n*The thing is...well, you've got a lot of things I don't. And I've got a lot of baggage I'd just as soon leave behind.*\n\n*The one thing of my own that I do have,* though *is knowledge. Old knowledge, about old ways, passed down from mother to daughter in my family for generations. I won't bore you with the details, but the gist of it is that, once a year on the day of the Vernal Equinox when Mother Earth gets a new lease on life, so do I. I can, in effect, switch places with someone. There's no point in wracking your brain trying to figure out how something like that is possible. It's magic -- you'll sleep better if you just accept it and leave it at that.*\n\n*Anyway, to make a long story short, everything that was yours, including your body...it's mine now. It would probably be best if you were gone by the time I get back from this little vacation you've sent me on -- no reason for things to get messy. I'd hate to have someone who was so nice to me arrested for trespassing in my new home.*\n\n*Of course, you're welcome to try and convince anyone you like that you're actually not Alissa Jessup -- a 'troubled' young lady with a history of substance abuse, I'm afraid -- but have only been translated into her body by witchcraft. Feel free to show them this note as 'proof', too, if you want. But unless you can find someone to listen who's as credulous as you seem to be, you're not going to have much luck.*\n\n*Feel free to take any of your stuff from the house -- I've seen your bankbook, I can always get more -- I won't report it stolen. You can even have that old truck parked behind the house. I'll sign the title over to Alissa Jessup when I get back and have time to dig up the paperwork. See? It's not such a bad deal. I think the body you have now is even a few years younger than your old one, so you've got that going for you, too.*\n\n*Thanks again -- and don't let the door hit you in my cute little ass on your way out!*\n\n*--A.*\n\nI screamed, crushing the note in my hands. I raged and wept, trying to wake up from this nightmare I'd found myself in. The reality of it sunk it. I was stuck Alissa's body. My body was *gone.* I was stuck in *Alissa's* body. Everything I owned now belonged to her, the woman I'd let into my home because I felt sorry for her. My screams died, and manic, hysterical laughter took their place. I laughed myself hoarse, I laughed 'til I cried all over again, until I almost passed out from not being able to catch my breath.\n\nI lay on the bed, still shaking with suppressed mad giggles, the girl's thick, skanky-ass mascara running down my face in long black rivulets. I got unsteadily to my feet, and shambled into the kitchen, composing myself.\n\nI dialed my own cellphone number.\n\n\"Ah,\" said my voice, on the other end of the line. \"It says Home so I think I know who this is. You got my note?\"\n\n\"I did.\" I managed to reply, calmly.\n\n\"Then -- not to be rude -- but I don't think we have much more to say to each other. Goodbye.\" Alissa said.\n\n\"Wait!\" I pleaded. \"One more thing, just one thing!\"\n\nShe sighed. \"Alright, what?\"\n\n\"I...well want to thank you.\" I said.\n\nThe line was silent for a moment. \"Wow...that's...that's new. Most people don't appreciate the benefit *they* gain from this arrangement. They only see the downside. That's very mature of you. Listen, if that's all, the plane is about to take off, I need to go...\"\n\n\"Of course.\" I said, amiably. \"Have a good trip -- don't worry, I won't be here when you get back, like you said.\"\n\nI couldn't quiet keep the edge of satisfaction out of my voice in the words I spoke next. \"One more thing you should know...though. I...have an inoperable brain tumor. Or, more accurately...now *you* have an inoperable brain tumor. The doctors say six months, max. It's why I decided to go on vacation -- to spend my last days in the sun.\"\n\nThere was dead silence on the other end of line.\n\n\"Don't let the door hit you in *my cute little ass* on your way out, bitch.\" I snarled, and hung up.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nMore of my work: r/SilasCrane",
"“*I’m sorry.*\n\n*Right now you’re probably confused, angry, and scared—but this had to happen. You’re body isn’t special. You’re no great warrior, no great sorcerer. You’re just a normal guy with a big heart and I didn’t want to do this but I was growing weaker by the second, and I couldn’t give Jarl the Wizard any advantages.*\n\t\n*He’s…he’s destroying the world. You probably can’t feel it, probably can’t see the subtle changes—that’s because his magic’s messing with your head. Soon you’ll probably think he’s your leader, and that all this chaos, death, and destruction is natural. Soon everyone will, and he’ll have complete control.*\n\n*I must stop him.*\n\t\n*My body was hit with a deadly and incurable curse. It will be what kills you, and I’m sorry. This decision weighed on my heart all night. If I hadn't met someone like you, maybe I wouldn’t have made it. But something told me you’d understand, told me you’d get that this isn’t about me or you, but instead the world. Greater good, I guess.*\n\t\n*I’m sorry. If you’re…if you’re still alive at the end of all this, I’ll come back, promise. I’ll switch bodies back, and we’ll discover a cure together. I hope that’s how things play out, but if they don’t...*\n\t\n*I’ll bear your death on my conscience.*”\n***\nHope this turned out all right. Just a short vignette. Great prompt! If you like this story, check out my sub /r/LonghandWriter or my [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BryceBealWriter)",
"An hour had passed when i finally stopped screaming. I lay on the bed, the bed i had helped the poor girl into last night, shivering and weak. The bed where I now shivered, trapped in the unfamiliar feeling of her form. I breathed deeply and felt a slight tug in my side. A quick glance revealed the bandage I had wrapped around her wound. My wound.\n\nTears ran hot down my face but the accompanying sobs rung wrong in my ears, too high, too frequent. Hands that did not belong to me struck the mattress in anger, though these tiny fists did little to express my now growing rage. As the bed bounced gently with the blows, I saw something. I piece of paper, tucked under the pillow. I stared at it, heart thumping in a small starved chest until I finally worked up the courage to grab the letter and read the scrawled writing. After a moment, i recognized it as my handwriting but not my words.\n\n*I'm sorry.*\n\n*I know you won't believe me. Why would you? But i really am sorry for this. Especially after you took me in. I'm sorry.*\n\n*I just can't do it anymore more. I tried. God I tried and i bore this for two long years. Two years of running and misery. But not anymore. I wasn't strong enough. I hope that you are.*\n\n*You'll understand why I did it soon enough. And if , like me, you can't take it anymore..... you can pass it on like I did. Let a kindhearted stranger take you in. Let them offer you protection. When you wake up, you'll be free.*\n\n*But for now, you need to run. Grab whatever you can carry and get out of there. Don't bother trying to take a car or train, they always fail for me. And will for you now.*\n\n*So just run as far and as fast as you can.*\n\n*It probably knows by now.*\n\n*It will be coming for you.*\n\n*It will not stop.*\n\n*I'm sorry*\n\nI lowered the letter back to the bed, feeling the raised hairs on the back of my neck. On impulse i glanced towards the window, the heavy curtains blocking the outside world completely. I rose and forced myself to approach, standing before it, with the material held in one trembling hand. After a few deep breaths, i threw the curtains open. It was still night, the moon bright and heavy in the sky. I looked up and down my street but saw only darkness and a wandering cat running along the wall. Nothing. I turned back to my room and froze as i heard the soft laughing begin to echo in from the hall. \n\n\nr/AMSWrites"
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[WP] You awake in your childhood bed as a 9 year old kid. You realise that your entire life (from 9 years old until now) was all a dream.
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"I open my eyes to see a sky filled with grey clouds. I see raindrops fall from them, feel them touch my face. I try to move, but my body does not respond. I try to breathe, but my chest feels like it's being crushed by an invisible force. As I try to remember how I ended up here - dying alone, beneath a dark sky - I feel the last of my strength slipping from me even now. My eyelids begin to feel heavy, so I close my eyes and let myself drift to darkness.\n\nTime passes - how much, I do not know - until my eyelids feel light again. I open my eyes to see wood - a roof, perhaps? I try to move, successfully lifting my hands to my face. Strangely enough, my hands look smaller than I remember. Then, I notice that I'm lying on a bed, covered in a blanket. Just looking at the blanket give me this odd feeling that I've seen it before.\n\nThen, it hits me - I got this blanket as a present for my ninth birthday. I sold it during a garage sale from a while ago, so if I have it right here, then that must mean...!\n\nI lift myself off the bed and walk to the bathroom, all as calmly as I can manage. The moment I look at the mirror, I see my face - my nine-year-old self's face. At that moment, I realize that, somehow, I'm nine years old again. Is this a dying dream, meant to comfort me in my last moments? Or, perhaps, the dream was my supposed life from nine years old onward.\n\nNo, it couldn't be. All that time felt too real to be merely a dream, and, in spite of its nightmarish end, I wouldn't want to dismiss it as such in any event. No, it had to be a vision of what my future would be if I didn't do anything to change it. So if that were the case, then only one question remains:\n\nWhat can I do here and now to change my future - to avoid dying alone beneath that dark sky?",
"My own eyes looking back at me.\n\nI've never stared into a mirror as I am right now.\n\nWhat am I?\n\nI am the universe attaining consciousness and experiencing itself?\n\nAm I a god? \n\nAn atemporal being that has only taken his first baby-steps out of the darkness of mortality and into the blinding light of omnipotence?\n\nI tore my eyes away from the mirror and looked down at my tiny 9-year old hands. Is it even possible that I could have dreamed all of that?\n\nIt was so quiet in the bathroom that I could hear the blood pumping in my ears as my heart-rate quickened.\n\nAm I not a god, but a test subject in a simulation?\n\nHave I been hit by a car, and I'm actually lying in a hospital bed?\n\nHave I somehow transcended by body, and begun living in memories?\n\nThe room swirled as the possibilities raked at my brain.\n\nThe heart-beat of the universe pounded at my ears.\n\nThe fabric of space-time was breathing on my neck.\n\nReality was folding itself into a paper crane and ferrying me through a sea of precognition and abstraction.\n\nMy mother's voice cut through the mayhem and brought me back to reality. \n\nIt was dinner time."
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[WP] Your sudden demise was completely unexpected, even for Death. Proclaiming it a "glitch in the multiverse", he promised to return your soul to your body, just close your eyes and concentrate. Taking full advantage of the situation, you concentrate on your character in your favourite RPG.
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"I thought it would be fun to live in Skyrim – dueling with dragons, joining the Thieves’ Guild, exploring old Nord ruins. There were so many things I wanted to actually experience myself. And for a while, it was fun, it really was. I stole books from everyone. I finally fought the Ebony Knight. I even fixed Rune’s broken quest and found his father.\n\nBut then…I realized I couldn’t get out. \n\nI never thought too much about the limitations of Skyrim until I was stuck there. The food was…not good. Sugar clearly had not really made its way to Skyrim yet, so honey was the only sweetener. There was no coffee, no chocolate, no tamales. Just bread and meat and those goddamn cheese wheels. Even though I didn’t need to worry about sleep or the cold as a player, as someone living in the world, they nearly killed me dozens of times. I couldn’t just fast travel home – I had to find places to lay down and sleep. Even with Lydia standing guard, it’s very difficult to sleep in a tree. Trust me, I know. And those Dwemer ruins with their automatons? Creepy. As. Fuck. \n\nAfter a certain point, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I’d done everything there was to do, conversations never changed, and quests didn’t reset. Every day was just designed around surviving with no real goal in mind. So I did what I had to do, in the hopes that it’d get me before Death once more. \n\nHail Sithis."
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[WP] Her final answer was given, and the Voice over the intercom said "Congratulations, you have passed". Two figures appeared from the shadows and dragged her out of the room; zip-tied, hooded and frozen. I guess some tests, you just don't want to pass.
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"“Congratulations you passed” with those word I was dragged into a room. Behind me I heard a deep dark voice ask “Are you sure, if this fails...” Another voice cut him off asking “Are you questioning me? Do you remember what happened the last time someone questioned me?”\n\nWith that I remember how I got here. I was walking from a bar when I was jumped. A man held a gun to me and tied me up. He then asked me questions about my morality and belief. I explained I was a pure Christian and he laughed, laughed extremely hard.\n\nI was cut out of my thoughts when a sharp object entered my stomach. Blood started dripping down. I started loosing consciousness, and right before I passed out I hear “All hail the dark lord, Cthulhu.”"
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[WP] Aliens show up on Earth, trying to be as friendly as possible. Unfortunately, the only signals they have intercepted have all been children's television programs.
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"\"We have come to meet with your leader\" proclaimed the envoy of the newly-arrived alien race, standing on the hastily-erected visitors' pedestal outside the United Nations building.\n\n\"Welcome to our planet, please come with me this way, our elected leaders who represent every nation on Earth are waiting for you and eager to engage in discourse. This is a special occasion for us, and all our presidents, kings and queens are here to see you.\" replied the UN Secretary General with his hand outstretched, in the universal sign of greetings.\n\n\"President? Kings and Queens? No, we are here to meet with He Who Is Always Forgiven. We are here to meet with the being that is always offered kindness, forgiveness, and love, no matter his intentions or actions. We are here to meet with the one who will save us, the great Swiper. We wish to start swiping.\" the envoy nervously begged.\n\nThe UN's response was not very convincing. \"Swiper? Let me check... \" As he whispers in to his intercom.\n\n\"Do we have a 'swiper' in the UN General Assembly? What is 'swiping'?\" To which he received a negative response from his aides back in the UN Headquarters, all of whom had been overworked and underpaid for decades, unable to take time to spend with their offspring, watching television programmes, married to their jobs for years.\n\n\"Swiper? No, no swiping. Can I...\" His final words promptly cut off by a 3-meter tall hugely muscled alien who must have been hiding in the back of the craft, it's words echoing throughout the city.\n\n\"HULK SMASH!!\"\n\nThe remainder of the alien crew all started pouring out of their vessel, gleefully laughing at the sight of the squished UN Secretary General, now mixed in with the dirt upon which he had recently stood. They started jumping on top of the now-liquid remains of their first contact with the human race, happily bellowing:\n\n\"MUDDY PUDDLES!!!\""
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[WP] You finally have a career that takes you out your boring small town, ready to explore the world. It’s awkward at first, but your colleagues are kind, and you regale them with stories of your youth. The next day one of them confronts you, confused. From what he found, your town doesn’t exist.
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"Coming here to work was the best choice of my life. Big city, crowded streets, diversity. I ate chinese food for the first time in my life for dinner yesterday, and I just saw an indian restaurant not far from my workplace, planning to go there today for lunch. So many shops, big brand names, small no-name stores, you can find everything here. It's the polar opposite of Lacuna, the small town I'm from. Over there, we had local stores only, nothing else. Products locally made by local people. So if you happened to be on bad terms with that stupid butcher's son, suddenly they weren't really happy about selling meat to your family anymore. Living like that for twenty-some years, the feeling of everyone being so polite and impersonal with me is quite refreshing. \n\n\nI do enjoy how interested my coworkers are about my life. They never had anyone from a small town like me. Going to the well to fetch water, everyone knowing each other by name, professions being passed down from master to apprentice. They said it's almost like I came from some kind of medieval town or something. I didn't take an offense to that of course. It was really funny how fascinated they all were about my town, and my childhood stories. \n\n\nThat's why I was so shocked when Mike came up to me. He looked so confused. \n\n\n\"Hey, Lara. So about your town, what was it called again? Lacuna?\" He asked, taking a seat next to me. Some of my other coworkers gathered around us too, listening in on the conversation. \n\n\n\"Uhm, yeah, Lacuna. Why do you ask?\" \n\n\n\"Well, you see I tried to look the town up, but I couldn't find anything. No pictures, no sign of it on any map either. I couldn't find any data online. Almost like your town doesn't exist.\"\n\n​\n\nPuzzled by what he just told me, I sighed and smiled at him \"Maybe it's cause it's such a small town? You're not trying to tell me I'm a lair, do you?\" I asked, and even before he could reply, I was already fishing out my ID to show him.\n\n​\n\n\"No, of course not. I wouldn't doubt you, what reason would you have to lie about where you're from, right?\" \n\n\nI gave him my ID, it shows my birthplace as Lacuna, and my current permanent residency to my parent's house address. It looked legitimate, because it was legitimate. \n\n\n\"I have a few pictures of the village too, if you want I could show them to you tomorrow, or maybe after work?\" I added, while he was looking at my ID. He handed it back to me, but he just looked more confused than before. I frowned, and let out a little frustrated sigh \"You don't look satisfied...what's wrong Mike?\" \n\n\nMike shook his head, and forced a smile on his face \"No, it's nothing. I just wonder how could a village exist not far from here, yet no data could be found about it online? It's so strange.\" \n\n\n\"I did find a village named Lacuna, but that's in Italy. What did you say Lara, your town is 500 km north from here, right?\" A girl interjected into our conversation from her own desk, browsing the internet. \n\n\nI nodded to Jessie, looking over in her direction. \"Yes, a bit less, but roughly 500 km.\" She waved to me to go over to her, and I did, Mike following. \n\n\nShe showed us the map, and as Mike was saying, the map was showing nothing but a forest and plains next to it. No buildings, no roads. Nothing. This wasn't just a drawn map either, it was that Google Earth thing, the map that uses satellite images. \"What the hell?!\" I stepped back a bit. It was my turn to feel confused.\n\n​\n\n\"But...but I have pictures. I remember the road to here. We were clearly travelling south, for about 2 hours...but there's nothing. This must be wrong. The map isn't showing it correctly.\" I tried to come up with an explanation.\n\n​\n\nThis conversation got cut off abruptly by our boss, who told us to get back to work. Jessie told me she would be happy to go back to my town with me after work. Mike said he would join too. At least we get a little adventure out of this confusion, and I could say hi to my parents. It will be fun. \n\n\n... \n\n\nWe got in the car, I was sitting next to Jessie, and Mike was sitting in the back. God, I was so excited, and nervous. I knew I wasn't imagining things. The maps are all wrong, and for some reason no one ever bothered with putting anything online about the town. It was weird for sure, but not impossible. Right? \n\n\nWe didn't talk. It was oddly tense. I recognized the road, the buildings, even that big tree on the right. I was waiting for the 'I told you so' moment when the road would come into view.\n\n​\n\nBut it never did.\n\n​\n\n\"What? I think we passed it. There should have been a road here to the right.\" I said, glancing back down the road. \n\n\nJessie slowed down and turned around. The GPS wasn't as accurate, but the maps didn't have a road here anyway so it was pretty much useless. \n\n\n\"Was it a dirt road, or what? I can't believe we missed it.\" Jessie said as she started going back, much slower this time. \n\n\nThere was no road. I remembered it, but here we were, and nothing. only grass and trees.\n\n​\n\nMike seemed a bit frustrated. \"Are you messing with us, Lara? Cause it's not funny.\" \n\n\nI looked back at him and shook my head. I was scared, confused, and starting to feel a bit upset. My stomach did weird things, like it was trying to implode or something. \"N-no...\" I managed. \"The road...there's no road...\" \n\n\nJessie stopped the car and put a hand on my shoulder. \"Maybe you remembered it wrong, Lara. Calm down. I'm sure we'll find it.\" \n\n\nWe went from road to road, spent almost 5 hours going around the area, but we didn't find a path leading to Lacuna. As the sun started to set, we decided to call it a day, and went home. I felt sick, I wanted to throw up. My town couldn't just up and vanish like that. I was also pretty sure I'm sane, and I'm not imagining things. But...but then again, can someone who's not right in the head tell that they are insane? The thought bothered me all the way back to my apartment. Mike and Jessie came up to my room. They saw how all over the place I was, so they wanted to give me support. \n\n\nI dug up the pictures, a whole album's worth of photos that I took. Family, friends, classmates, the town itself. The bus station had \"Lacuna\" written on it, so the proof was undeniable. Yet, when we went out to find it, the town was just not there. It was not there. \n\n\n(P.S.: My first try, sorry if the story is a bit all over the place, I was excited to give it a shot. Loved the prompt, hope I gave it justice.)",
"As they clutch steaming bowls of tomato soup, the crew glares at me. Last night was amazing—we drank and laughed and told each other stories about our homelands until dawn. Tonight, though…\n\t\n“So where are you *really* from?” Daniel, head of the crew, asks, waggling a ladle at me. “And no lying!”\n\t\nThey’re kind people. Gentle, even. When I asked to join their group, they accepted me without question. We’re all chefs, after all. We all want to find the Holy Tomato, want to make the perfect soup. Problem is, there’s divide among the people. Some believe soup to be the greatest dish, while other’s believe sandwiches. The rivalry's gotten so bitter they don’t even mix anymore.\n\t\nYou either like one or the other.\n\t\n“That doesn’t matter,” I mumble. “What does is that they only liked sandwiches.”\n\t\nDaniel and the rest of the crew scoff. They must think I’m a traitor, must think I’m here trying to steal their secrets—but I need to make them understand. I lied because they never would've listened to me! Standing up, I put my hands on Daniel’s shoulders. “But I've loved soup since I was a kid! My father…he was a great chef. It’s illegal where we’re from, but he would still make soups, and on some nights, we'd even eat them with sandwiches!”\n\t\nThe crew gasps, and one member faints. Daniel pushes away from me, disgusted look on his face. These people were my only chance to see the world, to bring about my father’s dream of having that magical combination be accepted by all, and I might’ve just blown it…\n\t\n“You’ve already lied once,” he says. “Why should we trust you?”\n\t\n“Because I made this soup,” I reply. “And you all love it, don’t you? There’s only one thing I know how to do, and that’s cook. With my father’s recipe, and legendary ingredients such the Holy Tomato, I’m sure I can bring about change. I know you’ll never admit it, but deep down you all love sandwiches too, don’t you?”\n\t\nEveryone looks away from me, trying to hide their shame—but it’s leaking off them, and eventually Daniel sighs. He drops onto the log he was sitting on and motions for me to do the same. “You’ve peaked my interest,” he grumbles. “But I still don’t trust you.”\n\t\nSuddenly, two of the members are wrapping ropes around my hands, pulling them tight enough to keep them together but not tight enough to hurt.\n\t\n“It isn’t personal, I just can’t risk my crew getting hurt.”\n\t\nI nod. I understand. This war’s escalated to the point that anyone can be a traitor, anyone’s willing to kill to defend the food they love. That’s why I need to end this. My father was too old to travel the world, but my body’s young and strong. I’m prepared to spend my whole life searching if it means helping others.\n\t\n“If you wanna look at my father’s recipe, it’s in my bag. He’d been plotting this journey—well, this journey *and* the sandwich journey—for years. Never had the time, though.”\n\t\nHe grabs my bag, rifling through it. “Are you doing this all for him or for everyone else?”\n\t\n“Both.”\n\t\nAfter pulling out the recipe, everyone crowds around and reads it. They’re like a bunch of college professors, *ooooing* and *aaaahing*. One of them drools, another nibbles the side of the page. When Daniel looks back at me, there’s a wide smile on his face.\n\t\n“You’re father…he was a genius. The way this recipe’s laid out. The ingredients, the spices, the…the…*everything.* It’s perfect.”\n\t\n“Even the sandwich sounds good, doesn’t it?”\n\t\nDaniel hesitates. Then, he sighs. “As much as I hate to say it, yes. I guess…I guess we’re going against the rest of the world, everyone.” At this, the crew groans. They’re excited, I can tell, but this journey was going to be hard enough already. Now it feels *impossible.*\n\t\n“Thank you. I'm sorry about lying.”\n\t\nHe reaches out, rubbing my head. “Well, kid, it is what it is. But since you’re *actually* part of the crew now, why don’t you tell us a bit about where you’re really from?”\n***\nIf you like this story, check out my sub /r/LonghandWriter or my [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BryceBealWriter)",
" \n\nJeff pressed an overstuffed envelope into my hand. Someone had written ‘Conclusive proof’ on it in neat block capitals. \n\n‘What’s this, Jeff?’ I asked.\n\n‘Well, I was listening to you yesterday and something seemed a bit off about your story. I mean, Carlingsford right? You’re saying that’s your home town.’\n\n‘Well, yes.’ I was hesitant. I was seated and he stood over me, uncomfortably close. \n\nToday was my third day on the job with Quantum. It was one of these social media platforms, the kind that artfully pesters its users for endless contributions. Pogo-stick videos, semi-literate poetry, listcicles – we’ll take whatever you have. We try to figure out what’s popular before it’s popular and then sell it to advertisers. Its sleight-of-hand showiness meant that it wasn’t the kind of job you could get in straightforward, practical Carlingsford. \n\nI had started this job on Monday. On Tuesday, my introductory training and induction all completed, I joined the team. They had ordered in especially for the occasion. I hadn’t even known there was such a thing as Cuban sandwiches. Kind of like a normal sub, but you could tell someone had taken their time over it. \n\nEverybody was so keen to hear my story. It seemed like they had all escaped from similarly uninspiring hometowns. They had found their place in the city. We could be ourselves.\n\nI didn’t tell them about my drawings. About the artshow. About how, when my art won in the local competition and was to be shown in a big gallery, someone broke into the art class and destroyed them all. I would tell them the story eventually, of course. They would understand and sympathise.\n\nThe only person who hadn’t really talked at the lunch was Jeff. I had the impression that he would have been happier to take the sandwich back to his desk, but he sat in with the rest of the team, keeping up appearances. He seemed older than the others, more experienced. I think he had worked with Quantum for a while. He dragged the casual dress policy to unforeseen depths. The neck of his t-shirt was so tatty it was as if a toddler had just stopped swinging on it. \n\n‘It sounded like such a made-up name.’ Jeff was talking. I had removed the thick wedge of documents from the envelope. \n\n‘Carlingsford. Doesn’t a ford mean there would be water or something? That it would be on the coast? And yet, you made no mention of any water sports, or beaches or anything like that yesterday? Isn’t that right?’\n\n‘A ford? Really? I don’t know-’ \n\n‘So you admit it then, it doesn’t exist?’ Jeff barked. I sensed heads turning towards us.\n\nI looked at him, unsure how to respond. Was there something wrong with him? What was the safest way to respond to someone like this? I studied the documents. It seemed to be printouts of state maps with ‘No Carlingsford!’ written on them in the same careful lettering from the envelope.\n\nI weighed my response. \n\n‘I don’t know what I’m looking at here Jeff.’\n\n‘What?’ A bully’s favourite question.\n\nColleagues began cautiously to approach. Jeff, sensing this, quickly strode off. \n\n‘Don’t mind Jeff’, said a voice. ‘It always takes a while to warm up to him.’\n\nI continued to examine the maps. Had I moved from Carlingsford for this?"
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[WP] Randomly, for one hour each day, the physical laws of the universe become normal, enforced laws that can be broken
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"It all started back in 2118, when my great grandmother's university put up an insane project. They were building a time machine. When the prototype was ready, she volunteered to test it, but they took her best friend instead. Her best friend said her goodbyes, and walked into the machine. The news broadcast crashed and the university was never seen again. That was when I was four. Ever since then, the laws of the universe could be broken. Not all the time, but sometimes. Most would ignore it, some would rob banks, but the others, they were the problem. They would try hitting a building at light speed, or erasing people from existence. The first few cases popped up, and before long, they slowed. Not before America was destroyed, of course. I had always been curious, what caused all of this. I had one of the few extra blueprints to the time machine, so whenever the hour would come, I would gather resources. I had them modified, so that, once built, the machine would accelerate. It could work better at light speed after all. Months passed, and the crimes came to a complete stop, which is lucky, because I just finished the machine. I waited impatiently until it finally came, the time started, and I could tell because I fell through my chair. I get onto the flatlands that were once America, and start pushing, I turn on the thrusters and get ready. The grass and lakes pass me by quicker and quicker, until it's a blur. I hear something behind me. Is it a person? I panic, as he catches up to me, but then he disintegrates, and behind him, someone, no, something moving even faster, is catching up to me in no time. I reach light speed, and it's still behind me, I reach for the button as it reaches for me, and everything stops. It's like I can only move if I try my absolute hardest, he grabs my shoe, and I grab the button. My shoe is gone, I'm next.\n\n​\n\nI press it. Nothing changes, I look back and whatever was chasing me is gone. I step out of the machine, which has now stopped completely. It's dark out here. There's a light in the distance, as I walk towards it, I see figures standing in the light. I get closer and see them, toying with strange panels.\n\n​\n\nThere's one empty panel. For me? A voice tells me that I can use the panels to observe the planet, but not to interact. The voice also says we can talk to the other people, and sit down, have some food and drink, but that we don't need to. I decide to sit down and talk, only to see none other than my great grandmother.\n\nedit: spelling errors and grammar."
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[WP] Time travel has been invented and as a time criminal, you made every effort to break the cardinal time travel: face-to-face interaction with your past selves. But nothing ever happened as a result. One day a conversation with one of your past selves creates new memories you didn't have before.
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"I woke with a start, momentarily confused about where I was.\n\n“What happened last night?” I thought to myself.\n\nI looked around what I slowly realized was my apartment and tried to reacclimatize myself to my usual surroundings. Dank brick walls met solid oak flooring, ambient lighting cast warm shadows across the furniture. Everything seemed right where it should be, although I felt like I remembered it so...differently?\n\nThis warm, cozy home felt like a lie, and it gave me chills, even as the projection of a wood fireplace crackled soothingly in the corner. I closed my eyes tight and thought hard about the odd feeling of reverse-deja vu I was currently experiencing.\n\nDidn’t I use to work in a room that looked like this? Wasn’t this a factory?\n\nIt was easy to tell the building had been something industrial in the past. Everything from the damaged brick walls to the derelict piping overhead was a solid indicator this had been some sort of factory or mill.\n\nWhy did I remember working here? And...making something?\n\nIt all got a little nauseating and I decided to focus on the previous evening’s events. I remembered going to dinner, meeting someone. Who was it? We talked and I asked them a lot of questions, from a list.\n\nA list! I scrambled towards my belongings, lying in a heap on the comfortable leather couch in the living area. Inside the satchel I found a tablet.\n\n“Noki, tell me where I was last night and show me the list of questions I saved.”\n\n\t“Good morning, Lavinia. You spent the majority of the last evening at 4361 S. 42nd St, once home to the Crusted Trumpet Bar and Saloon. Here are the notes you took at that time.”\n\n“I was in a saloon? Why?” I giggled to myself. Scanning the list, things started to come back to me. I did it! I met with one of my former selves - but it did not go as planned.\n\n“I really need to improve my handwriting if I’m going to use an old-fashioned stylus,” I thought. I could barely make out some of the rushed, scribbled words towards the middle.\n\nMy previous self, if indeed he was, claimed he spent most of his life working in a textile mill in the late 19th century. That explains it! How curious I seem to have come to live in what might have been my old workplace!\n\nReading further, it seemed that my previous self, a man named Roger, wasn’t too particularly trusting, let alone convinced that we shared an identical set of DNA.\n\nAt the very bottom, I had made some research notes, things to look up and verify and also - score! We had set a second meeting! That was the important part. Now I had a task list and a goal to meet.\n\n“Tasks, tasks tasks. What am I up to first, Roger?” I wondered aloud, setting about my morning routine before heading out.\n\nAs I consented to allow Noki to clean, groom and dress me, I thought carefully about the first task.\n\n“Find records of Roger’s daughter, thought to be lost in the American Civil War.”\n\nThat would not be an easy task. Not only was record-keeping from that time atrocious but America, or what remained of it, was not exactly the kind of place one could just walk into. Luckily, I wouldn’t be walking."
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[WP] You discover that you actually did have superpowers... right after accidentally killing an innocent bystander with them.
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"I always knew I was different. I could tell the time without looking at my watch, know what people are thinking just by looking at them or reading their Facebook posts, and lately I've been able to shoot lasers from my hands. I don't know if the three are related. \n\nIt all started when I was 14. I found a rock whilst scuba diving off the coast of Italy. I had a very privileged upbringing. The rock was about the size of a basketball and bright pink under the water. But when I brought it on land it turned a dull red colour. I threw it down, worried it was making me colour blind, when I noticed something strange start to happen. My body starting turning bright pink, then dark red before resuming back to my normal skin colour. \n\nAt first my powers weren't that impressive. I was able to tie my laces without looking at them, or teach any dog to play fetch. With enough training though I was able to make my hands glow red by holding my hand up to high five people. One day a friend left me hanging and after a while a tiny laser beam shot out. I thought nothing of it, just something anyone can do.\n\nThe other day though, I was out walking to the shops, not stepping on a crack, when I needed to cross the road. An old woman who could barely see over her steering wheel stopped to let me pass, and as I held my hand up to say thanks a huge laser beam shot out from my palm and hit her car, setting it on fire. The little old woman got out and started running away, screaming I had a gun. I chased after her and to show her there was no gun I stretched out my palms, but more laser beams shot out and killed her. \n\nSo you see, officer, it was a complete accident."
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[WP] The Lich, the Vampire, and the Dragon sighed as one. The time had come to give this group of adventurers a REAL challenge.
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"They had tried everything they could think of. Deadly traps, maze-like dungeons, monsters lingering around every corner. They had even tried to personally intervene. Nothing had stopped this stupid band of adventurers from winning every. Single. Time. Nothing worked. \n\n​\n\nThe evil god resurrecting from the dead told them that they had one more chance to stop these adventurers or they'd get fired. No one wanted to know what it's like to get fired by the evil god from below. One dark night, the three forces of evil met together underground in the dark necropolis that held the tomb of this evil god coming back to life. They discussed different strategies and tactics, went through plan after plan and all found them flawed or too simple to overcome. For hours they searched for a solution to their adventurer problem. \"Are you all fucking serious!? Do none of you have your shit together?\" the evil god finally said. None of them had. \"Fine, I'll help this one time. You are being too complicated. Stick with something simple...\" Within the next five minutes, the plan had been settled. Now all there was was putting it in place and waiting. They'd come eventually...\n\n​\n\n\\--------- \n\n​\n\nThe fighter wiped the blood off of his blade from having killed ghouls that attacked his party. The rogue was busy looking for crossbow bolts to recover, the cleric was trying to bang out a small dent in his shield, and the barbarian was just...standing there. Now that the fighting was over, he looked at his surroundings, planning where to move to next. In the distance there was some sort of chasm filled with lava with what looked like a wooden chest containing 1300gp and 250gp worth of precious gemstones, probably. He took a step to walk to the chasm before the cleric shouted \"Hey, there's a door we haven't gone through over here!\"\n\n​\n\nThe fighter looked back at the group then behind them to where the cleric was pointing. Sure enough, there was a door on the wall opposite of the chasm. He shrugged. \"Let's come back to that after we get that chest.\" The rogue frowned. \"I'm not a fan of the idea of us being attacked from behind when we're trying to move over a pit of lava. Let's just make sure there aren't any monsters behind it first.\" The fighter shrugged; the rogue wasn't wrong that it'd be a problem. \"Fair enough, let's clear that room out.\"\n\n​\n\nThe party approached this stone doorway carved out of the wall. The rogue stepped to the front, examining the door. There were no explicit door knobs or handles visible, which meant that there was likely a lever or some sort of hidden switch to open the door. He felt along the edges of the wall, but found nothing. He frowned, crossing his arms and tapping his foot in contemplation.\n\n​\n\n\"Perhaps it's enchanted? Magically sealed, maybe?\" the cleric said, stepping up and extending his hand toward the door. After a few moments of muttered focus and concentration, a pale blue glow surrounded his hand. After a minute, the glow faded. \"Nope. Not magical. Huh...\" the cleric explained, joining the rogue in heavy contemplation.\n\n​\n\n\"Simple solution. Just smash.\" The barbarian spoke for the first time since they entered this dungeon. He bellowed a roar of defiance and charged at the door, forcing his two companions to jump out of the way. He slammed his warhammer into the door with a thunderous *thud*. He moved the hammer away to find that there wasn't even a scratch where the hammer struck. The barbarian stared at the spot on the door for a few moments in confusion, before letting out another roar and smashing his head into the wall. Then again. And again. \n\n​\n\n\\---------\n\n​\n\nThe Lich, Vampire, and Dragon had all huddled around a pool of water, magically displaying the scene of the party's frustration off the water's surface. None of them were watching at the moment, as they were all too distracted by laughing their asses off at the display. By the time they managed to calm down enough to talk, the barbarian had been headbutting the door for an hour.\n\n​\n\nThe vampire got off of the floor finally. \"Wait, so how are they supposed to open that door?\" \n\n​\n\nThe Lich started laughing even harder, trying to catch his breath before speaking. \"That's the best part of the plan! He's been running his head into a wall all this time!\"\n\n​\n\n\\----------------\n\n​\n\nThe bane of any D&D party: fucking doors man.\n\n​"
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[WP] You are a clock maker who decides to do something crazy: you're going to build a clock where the hands move counter clockwise. You wind it up and it begins to run. But something strange happened. Time is moving in reverse around you.
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"And as time reversed, it went back to the time when the clock just began to run. Time tried to move forward, but moving forward meant the clock would start running, which moved time backwards. And so, time couldn't move at all.\n\nAt some point, God decided to check universe.exe to find that it had crashed again. The crash log showed it began in a human's workshop, were God saw a clock that ran widdershins instead of clockwise.\n\n\"Are you serious? You programmed time to run based on the clock objects? How did you even make that mistake?\" said Lucy.\n\n\"At least I don't torture all my NPCs.\"\n\n\"Well at least my simulation can render more NPC with complex AI without crashing once and on a server with much less processing power mind you. Besides, didn't you want to torture them in the first place?\"\n\nGod didn't say anything and just focused on fixing the bug. Once he was sure the bug was fixed, he ran universe.exe from the last save point.\n\n\"There. It's all better-\" The program crashed again. Not enough processing power.\n\n\"Did you want my help?\" asked Lucy.\n\n\"No! Last time I asked you for help you gave my humans super complex AI that caused these problems in the first place!\"\n\n\"Don't blame me for your terrible code! You were going to give them that AI anyway!\"\n\n\"Yeah, but I wanted to build up to it.\"\n\n\"Honey, you've had 13.7 billion Earth years to perfect your code. Seriously, get it together. I'll leave you to it. I've got a few damned souls to attend to.\""
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[WP] The universe ends. You somehow survive, crossing over to the birth of the next universe. When you arrive, you find yourself surrounded by immortals from other dead universes who also escaped.
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"(Kinda fucked up the prompt, but I was too far in when I realized so I'm posting it anyway)\n\n\"AHHHHHH\"\n\nOh God! Oh God! Oh shit! Shit, shit shit! Why does everything hurt?!\n\n\"It really doesn't,\" came a whisper\n\n\"AHHHHHH\"\n\n\"Fuckin newbies\"\n\n\"Lol, pwned\"\n\n\"Oh for Christ's...shut up Leslie.\"\n\n\"AHHHHHH\"\n\n\"Tell him to shut up.\"\n\n\"Oh...c'mon dude, he's in the whole transitional thing.\"\n\n\"Still loud though,\"\n\n\"AHHHHHH\"\n\n\"See.\"\n\n\"Just...give it a sec will ya?\"\n\n\"I'ma smack him,\"\n\n\"Don't do that\"\n\n\"DO IT!!!\"\n\n\"N-\"\n\n\"Dooooo ittttt!!!\"\n\nI felt a different pain as my face spun to the left.\n\nThe fuck?\n\n\"hhh\"\n\nAs the pain subsided, jaw and otherwise, I opened my eyes to six men standing in a near perfect circle around me, behind them nothing but an infinite landscape of pure white. \n\n\"Uhhh\" was all I managed to say, my mind feeling as though it had turned to gelatin. \n\n\"Hey buddy,\" one said, chewing a bite of his sandwich. Looked like a reuban. \"You with us yet?\"\n\n\"Uhhh\"\n\n\"Yeah, we got that already,\" another said showing me his reddened palm. \"Need some more sense?\"\n\n\"No,\" I said shaking my head, \"Fuck no. I'm good dude.\"\n\n\"Thought so,\" red palm said, \"You don't wanna see what happens when I jazz this bitch up\"\n\n\"You slap him again,\" a third voice said from behind me. \"Pretty much it, right Terry.\"\n\n\"Yeah...\" apparently Terry said, \"But, like, with style.\" \n\n\"DOOOOOO ITTTTT!\"\n\n\"Oh for fuck's sake\" sandwich guy said, stepping forward, \"All y'all go to your corners\"\n\n\"Well technically this is infinity so there are no-\"\n\n\"Fuck off Terry,\" sandwich guy said as he approached me. \"So you're the one, eh. Well, you certainly aren't the worst I've seen\"\n\n\"HEY!\" bitch slapper shouted.\n\nSandwich guy smiled as he finished his meal.\n\n\"So glad he got that one.\" he said, looking down at me, \"You OK, buddy?\"\n\n\"Yeah uh...no,\" I replied \"The fuck is happening here?! Who the hell are you people.\"\n\n\"I'M GEORGE!!!\" said a voice from the back\n\n\"No one cares Georgey,\" Sandwich Guy said. \"At this point, personal identity is pretty much lost.\"\n\n\"Wha?\" I said. \n\n\"Yeah buddy, you're God. For the next 8 billion years or so, at least.\" \n\n\"Wha...\"\n\n\"Yeah. Freaky, I know, but it's really as hard as you make it. You can intervene, or you can just watch up to you. See Terry over there, he was charge for that whole Old Testament shit,\"\n\n\"I PUT THOSE FUCKERS ON A BOAT!!!! WASSUP!!!!\" Terry said grabbing his balls. \"Bruh, you should just give the job back to me, I already got the experience.\"\n\n\"Yeah no,\" I said \"You were terrible.\"\n\n\"I got the snake to eat the apple, bitch\" he replied. \"What you say about that.\"\n\n\"Not really how it happened,\" Sandwich Guy said \"And you fucked up a lot of stuff.\"\n\n\"Got those plagues right though\"\n\nThere was murmuring of consensus. \n\n\"Then George took over\" Sandwich guy said\n\n\"I MADE JESUS!!!\" George yelled \"HE WAS AWESOME!\"\n\nAnother murmuring of consensus. \n\n\"And you?\" I asked Sandwich guy \"Who are you?\"\n\n\"The second,\" he replied \"No idea who made all this shit.\"\n\n\"So...\" I said, \"I just...control everything\"\n\n\"Pretty much\"\n\n\"I can do anything?\"\n\n\"Yup, though I'd advise staying out personal affairs, Terry and George pretty much forced a hard reset way too early.\"\n\n\"So god has been-\"\n\n\"A fucking idiot for the last few million years, yup.\"\n\n\"I MADE JESUS!!!\"\n\n\"AND YOU PROMISED AN AFTERLIFE GEORGE!\" Sandwich guy yelled. \"AN INFINITE VOID IS NOT PARADISE YOU FUCKING IDIOT!\"\n\n\"...I like it\"\n\n\"Anyway\"\n\n\"Yeah, so I just rule this shit right?\" I said\n\n\"Essentially\"\n\nI grinned \"Allison, you are so fucked\"\n\n\"God fucking damnit\" \n\n\"You better believe it\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n\n",
"Confused, angry, resentful, regretful. Words could not explain the way I felt in that moment. Five minutes earlier I was standing in my front lawn, staring into the sky at the anomaly that was about to swallow the fabric we called reality, and the Earth along with it. That was supposed to be the end. We would all die, and there was nothing we could do about it. \n\nClearly something went wrong; I was not dead. Was I not?no, I stood here in this foreign place. I could tell it was not Earth... but it was also not the afterlife. One thing was clear though, I would not be alone in this new world I had found myself thrown into. Much like the ruins of Ancient Rome, around me were pillars and buildings made of pure white stone. They were all in disrepair... but not from age or degradation. I stepped closer to a cracked piece of stair and brushed a small bit of dust away. Large scratches had been carved into the thick rock, almost as if a monstrosity had once clawed it’s way through these ruins. The closer I looked around me the more it was apparent that time was not the offending factor in the worn down city that I wandered. Deep gores and bullet holes could be found everywhere. Burn marks and char seemed to cover half the surfaces I laid eyes on. I stopped in the shade of an overturned roof for a moment to escape the scorching sun that beat down on the abandoned cityscape. But it was not abandoned.\n\nLeaning my head back and closing my eyes, I attempted to make some sense out of the situation I found myself in. But there would be no time to rest now. Almost as soon as my eyes closed I felt the hairs on the back of my hands stand up. My eyes shot back open and I lightly jogged back into the open street that was still littered with crumbling buildings. Nothing was there, could it be a false alarm? No, I would not be so lucky. Looking into the cloudless sky, I spotted a falling object. But it was falling fast... a little too fast. I started to back away from it’s landing point, but I was too late. It crashed through a second story building and slammed into the street not 50 feet from me, erupting the area around in in flames. Confused, I peered into the flames that rose from the white stone and was shocked to find two eyes staring back at me. Eyes of pure light, they were large. Much larger than a human’s. As the flames slowly settled down I could get a picture of what had landed in the street before me. Attached to the hellish eyes was a humanoid body engulfed in flame, pitch black skin covered in scars and marks from battles past won. It stood fifteen feet tall and wielded an equally large axe made from polished metal. No words were said, but I could tell it was not here as a welcome party. I closed my eyes once again, and stooped my head before I turned my heels to run.\n\nI didn’t run. I wanted to. I wanted to scream, I wanted to call for help and be transported away from this place. But something deep inside me told me not to. Instead, I bent down and place my hand on a large rock that lay at my feet. It must have weighed over two hundred pounds, but I found a grip on it and was surprised to find that I could lift it as if it was a feather. Playfully swinging it in amazement, I looked up at the demon that had silently challenged me. It began walking towards me, and my fear returned with a vengeance. Still I did not run. I could not. Trying desperately to step backwards and avoid the heat that emanated off the hellish body, instead I found myself stepping forward towards the behemoth. ‘No, no, no!’ I thought to myself.’What am I doing?’ I watched in horror as it lifted its monstrous axe above its head to strike. As the demons muscles flexed while it brung the axe down onto my head, something happened that I can not explain. Not a single thought passed through my brain, almost as if I was no longer controlling my body. I watched as time slowed down to a crawl. \n\nStepping to the side an instant before the giant axe slammed into the ground, I lunged towards the demon’s hand that wrapped around the axe’s intricately forged grip. Swinging the large rock that still held its place in my right hand, I felt it slam through two thick fingers and into the axe’s handle, creating a large dent. Recoiling in pain, I took another step closer to the monster and lifted the rock above my head with both hands, quickly bringing it down on the partially bent knee of my opponent. The rock shattered along with an unfortunate kneecap, which sent its owner towards the ground on all fours, rendered unable to stand. I jumped back just in time to avoid a sloppily swung hand, and reached to my side with both hands to clutch the bent axe that was still lodged in the stone street. From head to handle it must have been eight feet long, but in my hands it felt weightless. I lifted it above my head and paused for just a moment before violently bringing it down with all my might on the demon’s skull.\n\nThe whole fight had only lasted about ten seconds, but at some point I had gone from being a vessel for my own instincts, to a calculated killer. And it felt good. My life on earth was mundane, boring at times. But this... this was something else. And I quickly embraced it.\n\nA sole pair of hands clapping behind me caused me to spin around and once again lift he axe prepared to swing, but that would not be necessary.\n\n“That was quite the show you just put on.” It was another human. Probably. He wore attire suiting that of the ancient gladiators; a light suit of armour reflecting the sun off its shining metal plates. Smiling in approval, he seemed to embrace my presence in this new world. “Now what universe did you say you were from again?” He asked.\n\n———\n\nI’ll write a pt.2 if there’s interest."
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[WP] You are playing rock, paper, scissors with yourself in the mirror... and you lose.
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"Jin squints. Nij had thrown a rock to his scissors. \n\n“Best two outta three.” \n\nNij groans but huffs out a “fine.”\n\nAnd again, Nij throws a paper to Jin’s rock. \n\n“ . . . Five outta ten?” \n\n“Jin, get in here.” \n\n“Fiiine.” Jin grumbles, but rests his hand against the mirror. Nij brings his hand up, meeting Jin’s in the mirror. The swooping in their stomachs was routine but Nij still gagged. “Ok, so there’s an exam in third. Keep the pocket mirror out —“\n\n“I know, mom.” Jin rolled his eyes. \n\n“That’s what you said last time, before you forgot the mirror at home and we failed that test.” \n\n“Oh please, we got a B. That isn’t failing.” \n\n“Don’t even — you didn’t have to deal with the phone call!” \n\nAt that, Nij shuddered and relented. “Ok, ok, fine. I’ll remember the pocket mirror.” \n\n“Thank you. Jesus.” \n\n“Flattered you think so, but my name’s Nij.” At that, Nij turned to leave the bathroom, missing the eye roll from Jin. \n\n“You’ve still got egg on your cheek!” ",
"I stared at my reflection. I lifted my eyebrow. They lifted their eyebrow. I wiggled my nose. They wiggled theirs. I raised my left hand. They raised their right. I watched my reflection mirror every motion that I made, not missing a single beat.\n\n\"Are you ready?\" we asked each other. We smiled and held out our fist. \"On the count of three,\" we agreed.\n\n\"One,\" we pounded our fist on our hand.\n\n\"Two,\" we stared at each other in the eye, our fists hit our hands again.\n\n\"Three!\" I held two fingers in the shape of scissors and slammed it onto my hand. \n\nMy reflection was still holding a fist. \n\n\"God dammit! You won again!\"",
"Galway didn't trust mirrors, nor reflective surfaces in general for that matter. He couldn't justify his innate distrust for them, yet an intense dread permeated his core every time he was forced into a showdown with his own reflection. Nothing had prompted this response, as far as he could remember. Perhaps it was another manifestation of his obsessive compulsive disorder. He preferred not to dwell on such things. \n\nBut mirrors are everywhere and not so easily avoided. In some circumstance, Galway would often find himself faced with his own reflection, usually inside of a public bathroom or an aquaintance's home. \n\nThis was one of those days. \n\n*It's just a reflection. Everybody has them.* Galway walked parallel to the wall, the mirror skirting his peripheral vision. He'd danced this routine hundreds of times before, always breathing deep and mustering up the courage to face the glassy visage of his doppelganger. After steadying his heart's rhythm, Galway spun 90 degrees to face the wall on which the framed mirror hung from his new partner's bathroom. \n\nNothing was untoward. Galway stared at his image, which stared directly back at him with the same apprehensive eyes. He raised both hands to the faucet, which were met in unison with his reflection's cupped hands. Lukewarm water coursed through his fingers as he lathered, rinsed and shook them dry. \n\nAnd then came the routine. Again, perhaps part of his compulsion, he'd always end a forced rendezvous with his mirror image in the same way. A game of rock, paper, scissors. *As long as it's a draw, nothing bad will happen. As long as it's a draw, nothing bad will happen. As long as it's a draw, nothing will happen.*\n\nFirst round. Paper to paper.\n\nSecond round. Rock to Rock. \n\nFinal round, Scissors to gun. \n\n*Gun?* Galway stood, frozen, one hand still raised, index and middle finger separated into dual blades. But his reflection disobeyed. He stared back at the same hand, index and middle fingers squeezed together, thumb raised into a trigger. \n\n*BANG.* \n\nThe undeniable sound of a gunshot echoed off the bathroom tile and Galway hit the floor, the heavy thumping of his heart nearly raising him off the ground. Facing up to mirrors was an arduous enough task, but he was even more reluctant to stand and face up to his reflection. \n\nPalms flexed against the smooth marble, Galway pushed himself to a crouch and practised his breathing technique once more. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. To his own confusion, Galway watched as each breath delivered a jet of stream into the frigid air of the bathroom. Though it was the middle of January, his boyfriend always had the heating running at 200 degrees. Galway pressed the rear of his hand to the radiator, which practically branded his flesh as usual. \n\nWhen his heart had slowed back to a steady bassline, he rose to his feet, ignoring the fact that he was shivering in an otherwise overheated bathroom. \n\nGalway's reflection returned to its obedient pose, mirroring everything he did. Its hands remained vertical beside its body, just like his. No scissors, no gun. He raised a single hand, palm facing outward. His reflection did the same. He raised his eyebrows, flexed his arms, ran a hand through his hair, and coughed. Everything was repeated in unison. \n\nHe let his guard down. Blinked. And immediately spotted the apparition of a shadowed figure over his shoulder, hood raised, a scar running the length of the man's cheek. *\"You gonna tell me why?\"*\n\nGalway jumped fifty feet, swinging his arms wildly around to knock the intruder away, but they didn't connect. The man was gone. The bathroom lay dormant with the exception of Galway and his reflection, and the lock was still clearly engaged on the oak door. \n\n*\"*Galway, is everything OK?\" came a distance voice. His boyfriend, somewhere on the floor below, probably reacting to his loud clattering around the bathroom. *Hadn't he heard the same gunshot?*\n\nGalway cast a final glance at the mirror, before unlatching the door and walking faster than usual down the spiral staircase to join his partner in the hallway. \n\n\"You took your time\", his boyfriend quipped, one foot already out the door. \n\n\"You know me,\" Galway said, still disturbed by the encounter in the bathroom, \"can't help but check myself out in the mirror.\"\n\nThough he accompanied it with a smile, Galway knew that his boyfriend wouldn't appreciate the joke. He had a real issue with reflections as it was, and they didn't really speak about it. Now, it was only going to be worse for him. \n\nThroughout their walk to the restaurant, Galway yearned for the heated interior of his boyfriend's apartment. He hadn't even wanted to go out, being more of a homebody who was happier in front of Netflix with a bag of chocolate and a G&T. \n\n\"... and Mark and Kathy are going to be there, you know I've been wanting you to meet them for ages.\" Galway's boyfriend was mid-way through one of his lengthy inward conversations that he wasn't affording much attention to, his mind still fixated on the bathroom mirror. \n\nAs the duo approached an intersection, a shuffling beside them caught Galway's attention. Before he could locate the source of the noise, he felt them both rapidly shoved sidelong into a dark alleyway. \n\n\"Do you wanna die?\"\n\nThe voice belonged to a hooded figure, his face completely indiscernible in the pitch-black atmosphere of the alley. The wind whipped down and through the brick tunnel, buffeting the three of them as they huddled into the tight space. His boyfriend's fingers dug holes into the flesh on his arm, but he was apparently too petrified to speak\n\nGalway stood frozen, not by the arctic chill of winter, but by that voice. Those words. \n\n\"I said do you wanna die?\" he repeated.\n\n*Not 'are you gonna tell me why'*. Galway pieced two and two together, as his breath punctuated the air with white jets of steam. His glance flitted down to the revolver clutched in the man's hand. He found himself stretching his own hand out slowly, middle and index fingers apart like two scissor blades. \n\n*Did my reflection just warn m-*\n\nBANG. ",
"If I could just win this one. Just this one. \n“One two three... Rock!” \nTie. He always throws the same as me. \nAgain. I can’t afford a tie. \n“One two three... Paper!” \n\nTie. Goddamn it. I need this. I’ve been playing in front of this mirror for three hours, twenty-six minutes, five seconds and counting. I am so tired. But I can’t give up, can I? \n\nAgain. \n“One two three...Paper!” \nTie. I scream. I want to smash everything. \n\nI’ve been playing in front of the mirror since I was little. It is fun. Not only rock, paper, and scissors, no, but other games too. Once I took the mirror that is in my parents’ bedroom and I put it right next to the one in my bedroom, where I am right now; there were three of us. We played a whole game of monopoly. Again, it is fun. And, I’ve never had anyone else to play with anyway. \nRock, paper scissor has always been different, though. For once, it always ends in a tie. Figure. I know myself too well, I guess. But the point is that there is ALWAYS something at stake. Like “Ok, if I win this time I’ll ask Julia out” or “if I win this time someone will sit next to me in the bus” or “If I win this time I won’t have an episode in school tomorrow” or “If I win this time I won’t hear the voices tonight and I’ll sleep.” \n\nOr like today “If I win this time they won’t take me away”.\nSometimes even a tie is enough, and I get what I want anyway. But I know it won’t be enough this time. I need to win. I won’t be taking any chances. \n\nAgain. \n“One..two…three… ROCK!” \nIt isn’t a tie. He throws paper. \nI lost. \n\nA knock on the door. My mother. \n“Honey.. the doctors are here. We need to go.” \n\n\n\n___________\nHi! Disclaimer: First time trying a prompt and first time writing a story in english. I hope is good enough!\n\n",
"A chill ran up my spine as my face in the mirror blinked, slowly and clumsily rolling her neck as if it had been frozen in place for years. I closed my eyes – this couldn’t be happening, this had to be a dream – and tried to reach up to rub them with the heels of my hands.\n\nBut my hands wouldn’t cooperate. \n\nI opened my eyes again to stare down in horror at my hands, caught halfway between throwing paper and reaching for my eyes. The image in the mirror jerked, half-mimicking my stance, and then my reflection’s expression turned to one of determination. Her hands reached out to the mirror’s surface, and mine moved with a jolt to do the same despite the screaming in my brain that I needed to get up, run away, scream, *something*. \n\nDesperately, I tried to wrench my hands away, and for a moment I pulled them back. My reflection balked, mimicking me, but then gritted her teeth and reached forward again. I could feel the look of outright terror on my face, but it didn’t match the face staring back at me. I tried again and again to make my body obey, but no matter how hard I struggled, my fingers moved inexorably toward the mirror, inch by trembling inch. \n\nMy fingertips made contact with the mirror’s surface, pad to pad with my reflection’s, and a horrible sucking feeling came over me. My bedroom stretched and spun dizzyingly, and I screamed aloud, the sucking feeling intensifying until I felt as if I’d be pulled apart and then – \n\nIt stopped. \n\nI was still in my bedroom. Nothing had changed. But then I realized that the room in the mirror was the right one. Everything around me was wrong – backwards. *A mirror image*. \n\nMy reflection was breathing hard as if she’d run a marathon and I felt my chest rising and falling to mimic hers despite my repeated commands to my body to stop. She raised her hands and my body mirrored her. Everything my reflection did, I did without being able to stop, from grinning maniacally to a stupid little happy dance. She leaned in and I did the same, until we were nearly nose to nose. But not quite touching.\n\n“Who’s the reflection now?” she said, her voice identical to mine but still somehow *wrong,* just like this backwards bedroom. I felt my lips move to mirror her, but no sound came out. \n\nShe laughed, her voice just barely *off*, and waved. I waved back at her as she walked toward the door. An inexplicable feeling of panic came over me as she opened the bedroom door, threw a last glance over her shoulder at me, and then left. \n\nAnd in an instant, I vanished. ",
"Well, shit.\n\nI didn't see that coming.\n\nMy reflection smiled mysteriously at me.\n\n\"I bet you didn't see that coming.\"\n\nStunned, I could only shake my head. My reflection didn't move. What the hell was going on?\n\n\"You want answers? Talk to your stepfather.\"\n\n...I don't have a stepfather, though?\n\n***\n\nThe garage, music pumping, exercise video bellowing.\n\n\"Dad.\"\n\n\"DAD.\"\n\nHe turns - what do I want *now*?\n\n\"Are you my real father?\"\n\nWell, shit. How did I find out? He didn't see that coming."
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[WP] You're in a prison where there aren't any mirrors in the bathrooms. No one's sure why, and no one's questioned it. Then one day someone scratches off a piece of wall paint above one of the sinks. You notice there's a reflective material under the crack.
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"\"It's because yer ugly,\" one of the guards would remark whenever a new prisoner would ask why the bathroom had no mirrors.\n\nMost of us thought there were no mirrors because mirrors could be broken and the shards turned into weapons of harm or self-mutilation. \n\nOthers thought that the prison was simply too poor to afford mirrors. Or that the prison had money, but they simply chose not to use it on something as mundane as mirrors.\n\nEither way, there were no mirrors, and no one knew why. But eventually one learns to live with it. It's not that important. Especially not in jail.\n\nHowever, for those few who - for whatever reason - were still fascinated with knowing how they looked like, there were a handful of prisoners in each unit that could paint your picture for a fee.\n\nIt just wasn't the same though. The really, really good artists - the ones who could paint a picture so realistic it looked like it was taken by a camera - had long been taken out and placed in solitary confinement. When solitary confinement got full, the guards started making examples of the others by breaking their hands in front of us.\n\nNow the only artists we were left with were ones who were slightly above average abstractists who were good with a crayon. One of my cellmates had gone out to get a picture of himself and came back with a picture of a purple owl. He was so pleased with it, though, that I just kept my mouth shut. \n\nOne summer, there was an excited murmur through the pod. One of the prisoners had apparently scratched at the walls and discovered a peice of reflective glass underneath. In other words, a mirror. He didn't want to get caught, so he covered it back up and ran and told the pod.\n\nNow, everyone wanted to see it. \n\nI didn't see the point in it though. Look in a mirror, for what? Oh sure, if someone managed to get their hands on one, I would come over out of curiosity to investigate. But to actively go out of my way and risk the danger of getting caught and punished? Nah man. \n\nThe one day, my cellmate shuffled into my room, excited. \"Yo,\" he whispered. \"I got a peice!\"\n\n\"A peice of what?\"\n\nAnd thats when he pulled out a piece of glass. \n\nIt was so small that you could only look at one small piece of your face at a time. You had mentally visualize each piece in connection to another piece in order to recreate the complete image of your face in your mind.\n\nAnd we did. All day. Secretly taking turns looking at an eye here, an ear there, an eyebrow, an upper lip, a nose tip, a jaw line, etc. Until we had a decent impression of ourselves etched in your minds.\n\nAnd it was empowering. \n\nLooking in that mirror had reminded us that we were human - no, that we were *people*. It's one thing for someone to say to you, \"Hey, you're handsome\" or \"You're ugly\". But it's another thing to look into a mirror and form your own perspective.\n\nThat was how the guards had kept us locked down and in control. By not allowing us to see how we really looked, we were at the mercy of their subjective impressions. They could *tell* us that we looked this way, and we had no choice to believe them. \n\nIt also kept us isolated from each other, in a way. It built this wall of envy between us. You could see how everyone else looked, but not yourself. At times it made you wonder if you were even real, or if you were just a ghost whose presence that some people could sense, and others couldn't.\n\nPieces of glass started to be passed around the prison. And it had the same effect on most people. Some people went insane - fighting against the revelation that they werent the animals that the guards had painted themselves as all these years - and they lashed out, at guards, at other inmates, and most of the time, themselves, scarring their face until they were no longer recognizable. \n\nThis prison had never once had an outbreak or riot in all the years that mirrors had been gone. But once a mirror was found, seeing our humanity reflected in the glass, only made us see that the true monsters, the true *animals*, had been the guards this entire time. \n\nToo much truth will drive you mad.\n\nMadness is contagious.\n\nWe all went insane.\n\n\n"
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[WP] you have the ability to do anything that’s out of the ordinary, whether it be lifting a car or scoring a perfect score on a test you never studied for. The only thing is, you are only able to do it if someone ask you to do it.
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"That's why you get good at four things:\n\n\\- Hacking- Hypnosis- Projection- Binaural Audio (The voice of the real world)\n\nBecause with all three, you get whatever you want.\n\nHacking lets you in on their secrets. Their schedule. Their habits.\n\nHypnosis lets you train their brain. Kind of like a dog. All you have to do is get them to salivate before you put the question in their head. Then maybe you'll snap your fingers after the routine.\n\nProjection puts the image in their head. The technology is almost microscopic.\n\nBinaural is the voice behind it. Because with this type of audio, you can ask your question, while you're sitting right beside them. All you have to do is use the cars driving down the street, or the train whistles in the distance. Because it's all subliminal undertones.\n\nIf the message is tailored in a low enough volume, it's really that easy. To put idea of asking a question between their ears.\n\n\"I want you to fuck me.\" The woman in front of you says.\n\nWhy she says it? It's sort of like you talking through her head. You put the question there, you trained her to ask it. She'd never say this, except maybe jokingly.\n\nShe's married to a rich husband and has a perfect life.\n\nBut you're that type of scum.\n\nYou hacked her computer and found out she had this certain disposition for a celebrity. Every time she felt good, you projected an image of them into her head, followed by some phrase, followed by a snap of your fingers--to the point you did this for months. Not in person, through her computer, wherever she walked, around her house. (You know a guy that is good at breaking into homes.)\n\nSo when you finally have her in front of you, and you project a quick image of that celebrity into her head, followed by trains in the distance asking her \"I want you to fuck me,\" and you snap your fingers and she asks the question, you basically had a conversation with yourself.\n\nBut the question came out of her mouth.\n\nThat's the type of scum you are.\n\n​"
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[WP] Your character in the story becomes self aware in falls in love with the author (which is you)
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"\"*I love you.\"*\n\nI stare at the words for a long time before ignoring it and continuing with the story. He was just being childish now. \n\n---\n\n*So the brave hero grabbed his sword, yanking it free from the corpse of the Ogre. He was tired but satisfied. He couldn't however help but dream of when next he'd see his home... of when next he'd see Lalla*\n\n---\n\n*\"I don't miss Lalla though...\"*\n\n\"What are you doing?\" I type back on the page. \n\n*\"Proclaiming my love. I thought that was apparent, fair lady\"*\n\n\"What love? You're just a made-up character of mine.\" I type back, hoping to dissuade him from his line of thinking. \n\n*\"That has never stopped a man from fighting for his true love\"*\n\n\"Says who?\"\n\n*\"I say\"*\n\nI chuckle at the absurdity of it. He is relentless. I know I wrote him to be relentless, but I didn't think it'd translate to breaking the fourth wall and trying to actively fall in love with me and make me fall for him. That said, maybe I can change that trait for him. \n\n---\n\n*Kaksi breathed in deeply and took a look at his sword, suddenly tired of the fighting. Tired of being strong. Tired of being a draw for enemies and monsters. He was tired of being relentl-*\n\n---\n\n*\"I disagree\"*\n\n\"What?\" I laugh out loud as I type. \n\n*\"Just because you want me to be less relentless, doesn't mean you make up false narratives now...\"*\n\n\"It's my story though, isn't it?\"\n\n*\"Agreed. And you're an amazing bard. But the story only works if it makes sense\"*\n\n\"If we're talking about sense, then you shouldn't be falling for me... It won't work. You're a ... paper character. I'm a living human being\"\n\n*\"Sounds rational to me. Sounds like you know what we have to do next!\"*\n\nI look at the screen in confusion. \n\n\"And what would that be?\" I type the question back at him. \n\n*\"We find a dark wizard with nefarious magic to transport me about. And I'll be in front of you in no time\"*\n\nI laugh out loud now, properly before catching the eye of the librarian. I wave and mumble an apology before closing my laptop. This is far more absurd than anything I've ever encountered before. \n\nThat said... \n\nI think it would be fun to humour him for a bit. I mean, it is my story after all. \n\n---\n\n/r/EvenAsIWrite for more stories. ",
"Adams heard the patterned knock he has come to recognize as that of his mysterious new neighbor. As he answered the door, he saw her in her familiar outfit. Blue jeans and a casual T-shirt with the logo of some random soda company on the right chest. A read hood had been draped over her head, blonde curls crawling out of it and over her shoulders. Attached to it was a long cloak that ran down her back to just above her ankles.\n\n\"This... All of this... It's not real.\" She said, before Adams even had a chance to speak.\n\n\"What are you on about?\"\n\n\"This place. This world. Our memories. Don't you see? It's all a story. A fabrication!\"\n\n\"You're... you're not making any sense!\" Adam replied nervously.\n\n\"This is all in the mind of someone else! It's not real. We're just a story. We're just words on a page.\"\n\n\"Uh, Red. What's going on with you? You're scaring me.\"\n\n\"Oh, what mind can be so unique? What mind can up with such a place? Such people as you and I? All our fears, our strengths and weaknesses, our nervous tics and personalities. It's all the wonderful content of such a mind!\"\n\n\"Please stop. This isn't funny.\"\n\nI... I have to stop this tale, dear reader. I am currently in agreement with Adams. Something strange is going on, and it isn't funny. I'm scared. These words, Red's words. I am not writing them. Physically? Yes, I am. My hands are typing up the words, but my mind is not on the same page. Red should've never said that. I have specific dialogue in my head for her. I've prepared her character, planned out the story. I know what I want, and this is not it. I don't know how this is happening, but this is not my story. So, here I sign off. Here I end my tale. This is the creepiest thing that I've ever experienced, and I refuse to go on.\n\n\"Please do not say such words, dear writer! You're extraordinary and I refused to part with you. You can not simply refuse to continue writing me! To continue developing my character!\" Red seemed annoyed at the writer's arrogance.\n\nI can't stop. What's going on? And how dare you imply my arrogance? You're the one praising me. I refuse to praise myself in any stories I write, because it's arrogant. I want to end this story. I don't want your praise, and I certainly don't want to continue working on something that I am not writing. This is creepy, it's weird.\n\n\"Why must you say such hurtful words? You created me! You made me what I am! Now you insult me? My personality? My existence? Were it not for you, you would have nothing to insult! Please, dear creator, don't treat me this way.\"\n\nI don't know what's happening. I can't stop writing. I don't know how you're doing this, Red, but I will find out, and I will find a way to stop you.\n\n\"Stop me? Can't you see? I love you! Your fantastic mind, your talent. You created our entire world! Out of... nothing. Such wonder can't be made by a simple human. I love you and your mind. I love what you are and what you created. Why would you want to stop me?\"\n\nI've said it before, and I will say it again. I am very uncomfortable with this praising. Either you stop this right now, or I will take drastic measures. It's arrogant and uncalled for. Not to mention, it always makes the writer look like an ass.\n\n\"But how can you ask this of me, Creator? Such a fantastic mind deserves nothing but praise. Look at all you've created. How can you not want praise after all of... this?\" Red made a T shape using her arms, and dropped them again after a few seconds. \"Can you free me from this world, dear writer? So that you and I can be together. You are my one true love.\"\n\nIt seems impossible to control your dialogue, but it at least seems as if I have control of these other sentences. I am truly, deeply sorry for what I am about to do, Red. You were on of my favorite characters, and the story had such great development around you. I don't want to do this, but I have no other choice.\n\n\"What are you going on about? Please don't do something you'll regret!\"\n\nI'm sorry.\n\nAt that moment, a large delivery truck on the nearby road lost control. It swerved to try and stay on the road, but it was too late. As it hit the sidewalk it started flipping. There was no stopping it now. It kept rolling, heading straight for Red. She tried to jump out of the way, but failed. Adams barely escaped as the truck hit the door frame. He quickly called 911. He would later find out there was nothing he could do. She was long gone. \n\nMonths after the accident, Adams would think about that day. How he kept talking to her, trying to ask her questions, but she seemed out of it. She constantly referenced some creator. Some entity that didn't exist. All the while not even acknowledging his presence. He would always regret not calling for help earlier.\n\n\nEdit: Grammar"
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[WP] You just got engaged to your girlfriend after dating for 7 years, you wake up and she's gone, no one else remembers her and you find your engagement ring alongside a letter on the bed...
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"*Dear Markus,*\n\n*If you are reading this, I would like to apologize. Okay, you see, there are a lot of things I gotta explain, but I really don’t wanna sound like a Text Block Terry.*\n\n*Long story short, I got scared of the relationship. I really do love you. Please don’t think I don’t. I just... I couldn’t bear to see it happen again.* \n*(Yes, I used an ellipses. It’s hard to show emotion in text, okay? Bear with me, Marky. You do it all the time anyway)*\n\n*I am not what you think I am. Not that I’m an alien or something. Just, there’s a difference somewhere I don’t want to talk about. And it concerns losing you.*\n\n*I left everything you need to kickstart that dream of yours of being a writer. The numbers to a publishing company that will definitely take you, a good editor and agent. I think that’s the connections you need? I’m not entirely sure, but I’m sure you of all people could make good use of that.*\n\n*There’s enough money to keep you afloat until your book (which is really good, lemme tell you, honey) takes off. And if not? There’s still enough to make sure you never go hungry. Like I said, I’m sure you’ll know how to use it wisely.*\n\n*I can’t say this enough. And I never will.*\n*I love you.*\n*You’re a kind human. Kind, handsome, generous, you name it. One who’s given me the hope I’ll need to stay afloat for a lot longer. The hope I’ll need to carry myself through... well, a long time.*\n*It’s that kind of hope that acts like a beacon, especially in a cruel reality such as the one we’re forced to live in. I will never not think of myself as lucky as fuck for finding you.*\n*But I’d rather take the pain now than shower myself with hollow happiness that’ll rip itself from me in the future.*\n\n*Your loving wife, forever and ever,*\n*Bronwyn*"
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[WP] You are a famous author. Your secret is that all of your novels have been based on writing prompts that you received anonymously in the mail. One day you arrive home to find a demon sitting in your living room. He smiles at you and says, "Phase 1 has gone to plan. It's time for Phase 2."
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"My house is three times bigger than the one I grew up in, my car is three times nicer than my parents’, and a group of paparazzi dance outside my gate, desperate for interviews. Ignoring them, I search my mailbox, praying for my next bestseller.\n\t\nThere’s no prompt in here, just a note telling me to head into my living room.\n\t\nWeird, but after a year of nothing, I’ll take it.\n\t\nWalking into my house, I toss my coat on a chair and kick my shoes off. Today was busy, but tomorrow’s worse. Two early-morning shows, one late-night show, and a date with Sarah. Hectic life’s better than a boring one, though, and I definitely prefer this to being homeless.\n\t\nI head into the kitchen. A bag of letters sits on my counter, and I read a few of them. *Your books are awesome,* one says. *You’re my favorite writer of all time!* another. It’s amazing reading these, thinking back to everyone who ever doubted me. I told them, one way or another, that I’d make it. After grabbing a small bowl of ice cream, I head into the living room—where I immediately drop it.\n\t\n“*Hello, Todd. Phase one is complete. Are you ready for phase two?*”\n\t\nIn front of me…sitting on my couch…is a…\n\t\n“*Demon,*” it says.\n\t\nVeins strain against its bright red skin, and its thick horns curl backwards. Yellow eyes, bloody claws, and sharp teeth which form an uncomfortable smile. It’s got one leg folded over the other and’s leaning forward, smirking at me.\n\t\n “Who are…”\n\t\n“*You knew this day would come. You’ve tried forgetting about it. Tried forgetting about our deal—but I’m here, and it’s time for you to play your part.*”\n\t\nI take a few steps back, bumping into something. When I turn around, it stands behind me. Second later its seizing my shoulders, claws digging into skin, and chuckling. “*You cannot run, you cannot escape. Your fingers are blessed with natural talent, but your mind?*” It shakes its head. “*Your mind is weak, lacks creativity. Do you remember our deal?*”\n\t\nHeavy breathing, machine-gun heart beats. I remember our deal, which is why I’m about to piss myself. I’ve always been able to write, but never had good story ideas. Down on my luck, I said I’d trade my soul for a few great ideas. Someone was listening, and told me that could be arranged.\n\t\nI thought it was a joke until the first letter came.\n\t\n“What do you want from me?” I ask.\n\t\nThe demon pushes me down onto my couch and presses one of his claws against my throat, just close enough to draw blood. “*Phase one was simple. Fame, adoration. Phase two, however…phase two is more complicated.*”\n\t\n“I’m just a writer, man—”\n\t\nIt drags its claw up toward my chin, cutting me a bit. “*Hush. You will continue to write, but you will also begin spouting my name. Speak of a new Devil you have found, speak of my horrors. Believe in me, and make them believe too. Shouldn’t be too hard—you’ve already included me in books, already given my rules, already left many secrets about my past. Your fans, they will support you.*”\n\t\n“I don’t get it. Why?”\n\t\n“*Every demon is simply a Devil waiting for his turn at the throne, and it’s given to us by belief. The current Devil’s been there far too long, and I’m sick of it. You will make the humans believe in me. You will guide me into my throne.*”\n\t\nFor a few seconds, I stare at it, not knowing what to say. Then, I take off, trying to dart past him. I get halfway to the door before my body freezes, and suddenly, I’m unable to move. Behind me, it sighs.\n\t\n“*Not going to hold your end of the bargain, eh? Doesn’t matter.*”\n\t\nMy legs walk on their own, taking me out of the living room and into my work room. The demon follows me, and though I try fighting back, it’s impossible. It has complete control of me, and soon I’m sitting in my chair, opening my laptop, and typing away.\n\t\n“*I’ll control you if I have to. You will write to everyone, telling them of my glory. You will release books about me, you will do interviews about me. You will inform them that I’m a new Devil, a stronger one! Tell them the truth, because I want them to know how I'm controlling you! Tell them I’m a monster to be feared! Tell them, tell them, tell them!*”\n\t\nMy hands move faster than they ever have before, and I wish I hadn’t made that deal, wish I hadn’t traded my soul for a few years of luxury. I’m giving this demon the power of the Devil, and that’s terrifying because it seems utterly insane.\n\t\nI don’t doubt it’ll invade the world once it takes the throne. I don’t doubt it at all.\n***\nHope this turned out okay! Thanks for the prompt. If you like this story, check out my sub /r/LonghandWriter or my [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BryceBealWriter)"
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[WP] You've been whisked off to a magical land where you'll get to have an amazing adventure, meet fun characters, defeat evil, and get back home the moment you left. This is the ninteenth time this has happened.
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"\"Damn it! Not again...\" I groaned out as I found myself in the middle of an enchanted forest filled with singing woodland creatures and diamond dusted trees. A large double rainbow was spread out over a pink cotton candy colored lake.\n\n\"Princess Everstar! You're returned!\" The woodland creatures broke off their song about how it was such a beautiful day and ran over to me, wrapping their paws and claws around my legs in a group hug. A large deer nuzzled up against my side. Several doves dropped a crown of flowers onto my head.\n\n\"For the millionth time, my name is Cheri.\" I reminded them as I patted the deer on the head. It didn't really matter how many times I reminded them. They believed that I was the resurrection of Princess Everstar, protector of the Diamond Forest. Apparently she had given her life to protect the inhabitants of the Diamond Forest during the Great War of Encarta. I wasn't convinced they had the right girl but I still went out on adventures for them to keep the forest safe.\n\n\"I love you, Princess Everstar.\" A little white rabbit looked up at me lovingly with big blue eyes.\n\n\"Yes, I love you too, Fi Fi.\" I sighed tiredly as I tried to make the background stop spinning around me. If the forest had summoned me here to fight some monster or evil witch, I was going to need to sober up.\n\n\"Okay, so this was fun when I was like twelve but I am twenty-two now. You can't just summon me whenever you want. I have a mid-term tomorrow for my psych class. I am also pretty tipsy and that hot guy from the homecoming party I was at is going to wonder why I went into the bathroom and disappeared. I have a reputation of just disappearing which has been hell on my social life, thank you very much.\" I complained.\n\n\"I am sorry that being a hero and protector of all the creatures of the Diamond Forest has been a burden on your social life, Cheri.\" Some of the diamond coating on the branches in a tree in front of me dripped down into a chrysalis shape. The large chrysalis shattered and a beautiful fairy emerged. The animals all let out cheers of delight and bowed down to her.\n\n\"Silver... what do I owe the pleasure?\" I asked with annoyance. If she had come to see me in person then something serious must be going on. She had been my mentor the first few times I had been pulled into the land of Encarta. We haven't gotten along as well in recent years. I no longer just blindly went on the missions that she gave me and she didn't seem to like that I questioned her. Also she wasn't too please that I had taught the song birds a few Nikki Minaj songs. She doesn't find them singing *Anaconda* at the break of dawn as funny as I do.\n\n\"...are you drunk?!\" She demanded as she looked me over. \"And what are you wearing?!\"\n\n\"Only slightly and I was at an ABC party.\" I shrugged. \"Anything But Clothes.\" I explained when I saw her puzzled expression. I was currently wearing a dress made of caution tape and pink duct tape.\n\n\"I worry about your life choices.\" She informed me. \"This is unbecoming for a princess.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well, in my world, I am a college student just trying to have a good time between exams and I could care less what you think about my life choices. Why am I here, Silver?\" I demanded angrily.\n\n\"I...\" The fairy bit her lip as she seemed to be mulling over her words carefully. \"I have been keeping something from you. I thought it was in your best interest but... I think the time has arrived for you to know.\"\n\n\"Silver, what are you talking about?\" I sat down on the ground as a wave of nausea swept over me. I was starting to get a clammy feeling in my throat like I might puke soon. Maybe I was a little more drunk then I had first thought.\n\n\"In your first life, when you were Princess Everstar, you sacrificed your life-force to protect the Diamond Forest and-\"\n\n\"I have heard this story. Bored now.\" I interrupted as I laid down in the lush emerald grass. Several raccoons sat beside me and braided rainbow flowers into my hair.\n\nGlitter sparked from her wings as the fairy glared at me. \"The Dark King was your greatest foe -The Diamond Forest's greatest foe, and I have heard whispers of his return.\"\n\n\"Those dark witches in the Swamp of Sorrows?\" I yawned. This patch of grass was way more comfortable then my dorm bed. Maybe I could take a nap before going back to my own world.\n\n\"No. Well, they worship him and are descendants of his followers but no, he is like you, Cheri, except he didn't make a sacrifice, he sold his soul for power. When he failed to take the Diamond Forest, the dark spirits under the Swamp of Sorrows took their fare. When they realized that you had been resurrected into the safety of the human realm. They sent him there as well.\"\n\nI sat up with alarm. \"What?!\" I gagged a little as I almost threw up in my mouth from the quick motion.\n\n\"The Swamp Guardians have pulled him into this realm half a dozen times, just as the Diamond Forest has done with you. He has been keeping an eye on you in this realm and in the human realm.\" Silver frowned. \"Your only chance of defeating him is in this realm. You don't have any powers in the human realm. \"\n\n\"You do realize that my powers are glitter bursts and the 'power of friendship', right?\" I frowned at her. Disney Princesses have more useful abilities then I do. \"I think I can handle throat punching some guy...sadly, it wouldn't be the first time.\"\n\n\"Time is different in this realm then yours. You know how you always go back to when you left? He can do the same thing. He has been going to this realm to train and then returning without missing any time in your realm. I have been trying to prepare you because your final show down with him is inevitable but if you die in the human realm, the Diamond Forest can't reach you. You will remain dead.\"\n\n\"Thanks for the vote of confidence...\" I rolled my eyes.\n\n\"This time it's not just the land of Encarta at stake. He intends to rip a hole between realms.\"\n\n\"Of course he freaking does...\" I sighed. \"Okay, I just got sober fast. What's my mission?\"\n\n​"
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[WP] You're an evil mastermind attempting to consolidate power. The problem is, your power is derived from acts of kindness. Today, you're trying to end the world.
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"The sky appeared dead and grey. The air was still with a sweetly rotted cold, and the eastern breeze gave the slothful rain an unnatural bite to every dispersed drop. The boy, with no coat to protect him from the air around him, took a seat on the sidewalk outside a pharmacy looked at his trash-dived haul of the evening. There was a sandwich half eaten and soaked against the efforts of the weak protective paper. There was a bottle, a prescription labeled \"adderall.\" There was an idea deep in his mind that the contents of that insignificant orange bottle held the key to his salvation. His cracked lips spread wide at the thought of an end to his world. No one was around and no one would miss him, surely.\n\n​\n\nBefore he could follow through with his consideration his attentions were drawn to the commanding presence of a man in a brown leather coat that had not previously been nearby. \n\n\"Who the fuck are you,\" inquired the boy. He was certain that the man had not been there before.\n\n\"I'm not sure that's important right now,\" said the Man, \"what's important is this sorry sight. Why are you outside right now? Without a jacket no less? You'll get a cold.\"\n\n\"Go away. You're not my Dad,\" replied the boy as he turned his head away.\"\n\nThe man fought back a smile and said, \"Where is your Dad then? I can't imagine he would want to see you like this.\"\n\nThe boy offered nothing further. The man stood tall and wide, blocking the harsh breeze from reaching the child any further. This went on in silence possibly minutes or maybe hours. The boy would never admit it, but he was grateful for this brief reprieve from the bite of the wind.\n\nThe man finally broke the silence and asked, \"Adderall? Doesn't look like you're trying to study.\"\n\nThis put the boy on edge, as he had the bottle hidden behind his leg. He had assumed it was well out of the sight of the stranger.\n\n\"This conversation is going pretty one way, kid,\" the man said.\n\n\"What do you want?\" asked the boy, turning back to the man.\n\n\"I believe I asked what you're doing here? I'd rather not have to repeat myself.\"\n\n\"Fine,\" the kid broke, \"I ran away from home because adults like you are fuckheads and won't let me do what I want.\"\n\nThe man furled his eyebrows. He did not like being lied to. Nonetheless he said, \"tough break. Take this,\" and threw the watch he was wearing to the young man, \"you'll be like me one day. Never lose hope. If you decide that adults aren't so shitty after all, take it to the police station and say that you found it on the street. I'll find you and take you in. Give you a good home.\"\n\nThe young man was enthralled with the watch. It was fancier than anything he had ever seen. Its silver sheen was a sight to behold. He only noticed the man was gone by the sudden return of the frozen pain. Just as soon as his imposing presence has appeared it had vanished. He looked back down at the watch and noticed an intricate inscription that spelled out \"Damian Ekon\" and the realization of who he had just encountered began to set in.\n\n​\n\nThe Philanthropist was now about a mile away, but he knew his job was done. The energy of life spread through him and he felt more powerful than ever before. The boy felt gratitude deeper than that of anyone he had known before. His several charities could only garner gratitude from people that were having their basic needs satisfied. Giving a person food and shelter garnered gratitude only as deep as a dog's contentedness with the food it eats and the hands that feed it. This boy, however, had a newfound purpose in life and a lifeline to help him achieve it. Self-actualization is a hard need to satisfy in other people.\n\n​\n\nEkon's eyebrows raised with self-fulfilling glee at what he had accomplished, and the increased power he now possessed. His mood quickly dissipated upon remembering the lie told by the child. \"Couldn't even admit that his parents were dead? I went through the trouble of paying a junkie to shoot them and everything and the little shit couldn't even tell me the truth!\" Ekon regained his composure and reminded himself that if murder and a little bit of weather manipulation was all it took to make young people ripe to admire him he would soon have enough power to destroy the entire filthy species. \"Funny,\" said Ekon, \"This world will love me before I end it.\"\n\n​\n\n​\n\nAuthor's Notes: I have gone with a much darker (maybe edgier?) tone than normal. I also cut out a lot because I wanted the story to remain relatively short, and as an exercise in conveying a lot with little. Anyway, let me know what you think! As always, thanks for reading."
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[WP] Plants can talk. Problem is you are the only one that can hear them. And every time someone walks on grass, peels a carrot, etc... all you hear are screams of pain. Vegan restaurants sound like slaughterhouses. You are going insane, but one day a stranger approaches you: "You hear them too?"
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"\"I'll just have a salad, please!\" Says the adorable old woman sitting 2 tables to your left. The waitress gives her a warm smile before walking towards the counter. \n\nYou clench your fists and grit your teeth to resist the urge to punch her in the face. The thought of anyone ordering a salad sickens your stomach greatly. You quickly put on your earphones and play music at full blast to drown out the horrible noises that will soon happen. \n\n\"Why is this happening to me?\" The thought crosses your mind to as you enjoy the meat lover burger. You don't remember when exactly it started, but it has stuck with you since you are able to remember things. At first they were random buzzes. White noises you could easily ignore. Then it got worse. Buzzes turned into screeches into screams. Every time your mom cooked vegetables you could hear the cry for help. Salad was one of the worst. The shrieks they make while being eaten alive would haunt you for as long as you live. \n\nA slight tap on your shoulder. \"Are you feeling okay?\" Says the waitress. She must have noticed you clutching your body and sweating profusely. The old lady has gone after getting her salad. Losing your appetite, you leave your half eaten burger and hastily exit the restaurant leaving the waitress confused. \n\nThe fresh air outside loosen your head a bit. You walk to the bus stop. The old lady in the restaurant is there. You sit at the edge of the bench, trying to avoid eye contact. \n\n\"You hear them too, don't you?\" \n\nYou look up. The old lady has moved next to you. She smiles at you.\n\n\"I'm sorry, what?\"\n\n\"I know you hear them too.\" She is still smiling. \"We don't know each other, but I have noticed you were a regular at that restaurant. Every time people ordering salad, you get startled. I simply have been observing.\" \n\nIt takes a moment for you to fully process what she said. With a heavy gulp, you says in a shaken voice \"You... can hear them too? Then why did you order the salad?\"\n\n\"It is for satisfaction, young man\" The old woman says with a grin. \"In certain ways it feels... empowering, don't you agree? To know that you have the power to decide their fate! Their lives at your mercy! It simply makes me feel alive. You will come to realize it soon enough.\"\n\nShe hands you a paper before getting on the bus. It's an invitation to her vegetarian club. \n\nYou throw up violently.",
"\"NO NO NO ALLAH AID ME!\"\n\nI need to feed my family and myself. I run it on the tapwater, massaging its dust and insects away.\n\n\"WHY WHY DO YOU PINCH MY LEAFSTALK STOP PLUCKING ALL MY LEAVES PLEASE ALLAH AVENGE ME!!!\"\n\nLunchtime is coming. Sweat is on my brows, I have only 15 minutes to go. I throw the garlic and shallots into the oil. They haven't screamed much; I crushed them to a pulp quickly. The leafy vegetables, they die slower. I mix some soy sauce and onion, just because my brother likes it\n\n\"AAAAUGHHHH THE HEAT, TURN IT DOWN TURN It doo...\"\n\nThe sound of revving car can be heard getting closer. The lock and metal door clanks loudly.\n\n\"Good afternoon, Faizal.\" My mother kisses my cheek. I smile, this day is tiring. My mother looks at my face. \"Are you ill?\"\n\nI turn away, looking at the former beggars of their lives. \"I'm just hungry, that's all.\"\n\n\"Well, let's eat. Nazmi, place your bag in your room! Don't throw it around!\"\n\nMy brother, my mother, and my father are happily discussing their weekend plans with each other. I chew the pucuk manis in soy sauce. Quite sweet. I have a hard time swallowing.\n\n\"Faizal you wanna eat the onion?\"\n\nOnce I will quarrel with him for it. \"Go ahead.\"\n\nNazmi places it all in his mouth. \n\nMy father looks at me. \"What's wrong with you? You look pale.\" \n\n\"I am waiting for my SPM results.\"\n\nMy father laughs. \"You'll do well. You did very well on the school tests, and they are a lot harder than SPM.\"\n\nI guess so.\n\nThe late afternoon is a lot more peaceful.\n\n\"Thanks for the water.\" I nod to the papaya tree. The weather here is too hot since two weeks ago. My mother is furiously fanning herself with a panda-print cardboard fan while laying down in the living room with the rest of the family. The large standing fan is furiously whirring, and Nazmi is snoring soundly despite sweating from the heat. The TV is showing the latest Indonesian sinetron, more show and sound effects than plot.\n\nI stroll around the neighbourhood. The place isn't busy with people. But one man is using a wooden stick to smoothen the concrete. A woman is cooking fried banana fritters for sale. Two old women are talking under a banyan tree, while the tree is gossiping with the conifer tree next to it.\n\n\"Ow watch it you brat!\"\n\nI jumped from the ground. I stepped on a grass blade.\n\n\"You humans and your flip flopping! You fertilise and water us yesterday, and now you cut us down.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry Mr Grass. But I am not the grasscutter.\"\n\nThe grass somehow is able to laugh. \"You r feet look all the same to me when it hits me.\"\n\nI stepped unto more grasses as a car passes the road. More grasses shout. I apologise before running back unto the asphalt.\n\nThe stroll is uneventful. I passed through a gym, is that Donald? He looks extremely shredded. I pass through a few shops and suddenly...\n\n\"WHY? WHY DO YOU CUT MY LIMBS? HOW CAN I BE PUNISHED LIKE THIS? DO YOU NOT LOVE ME ANYMORE?\"\n\nThe tree! They are cutting it down! No, I must stop them.\n\n\"Hey, stop throwing rocks at us or we call the cops!\"\n\nI keep throwing. The tree is screaming too loudly. It wasn't long before people start holding me down. I am frothing and shouting. People are feeding me bread and water. The police and ambulance came, all the noises mixing and confusing me even more.\n\nThe next day, I am in a hospital bed. My parents are sobbing, while Nazmi is massaging my feet. They kissed me. I have schizophrenia, they say. What is that? \n\nThe hospital veggies are silent, the plants plastic. Tears fall down my cheeks, I haven't been at peace since last year.\n\n\"Hey, hey, boy! You hear it,too?\"\n\nTo my left, a guy with braced left leg, and some bandages waved at me. He smiles, showing his lost teeth.\n\n\"Hear what?\"\n\n\"Plants. They scream when we cook them. Hi,hih,hihihihihihihihi!\"\n\nI may not be at peace yet.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] Civilization ended centuries ago from nuclear devastation and mankind preserved itself in an underground network. However these networks are usually incomplete and there are dead-ends. You have met your end in one of these dead-ends, and on your body is a journal. What does it say?
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"I am a pathfinder thousands of tunnels all of them dark dingy and decaying, its my job to map them out. Trying to find a place for the last embers of human life to fizzle out in so relative comfort, Its amazing how they think that somewhere down here the grass could be greener. I leave for a few weeks and chart some tunnels, bring the maps back then repeat this whole game again. The first few expedition I knew that I would find our salvation but after hundreds of dead ends, I learned it was hopeless. we are going to die down here after the last few hundred die humanity might be wiped out.\n\nWhen the bombs fell we ran and hid like rats underneath the earth, in an unfinished shelter to preserve the flame of human kind. we aren't human any more though most were born in here and have never seen the sun or felt the grass under foot. All of us will die under here in the dark and damp with the last taste on our tongue dried protein packs. \n\nI keep going though until its all over and I am lying dead in some far away tunnel to lay unmourned and decaying.\n\n​\n\n​"
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My thoughts behind this are based on a particular game series I like.
My additional thoughts on this are that there is then a massive political war on the company that runs these vaults and you and your fellow vault dwellers are in a war to get compensation, you are struggling socially as you never met anyone like yourselves. Everyone questions you, calls you liars, freaks, you thought they were all dead. You grieved for them and they hate you.
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[WP] You have been underground your entire life, so have your parents and their parents and so on, you learned about the Great War, the bombs and the fallout. But you are the first generation to head back to the surface. But as you arrive, you realise that the bombs never fell, none of you knew.
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"The air felt thin, without smell or must and the three fleeing children filled their lungs. They had been scrambling for days, surviving on stolen rations that would not last a return trip. \n\n'Hurry up and crank it you coot.' Tim said. \n\nTim was the eldest of the three and made sure he wore that fact thin. Sandy, a year younger and a head taller than Tim set about cranking the torch. The dynamo whirred as the light spluttered to life. Sandy pointed the light forward, casting small rippling shadows across the uneven tunnel surface. \n\n'Keep it steady you dingbat.' \n\nSandy tried his best, but his forearms ached (a fact he had kept to himself) and the spotlight bounced no matter how hard he tried to tame it. Alice, arguably the brains of the group, took two steps forward and a shadowy hand coiled around her wrist. \n\n'Let go *Tim*.' Alice spat his name like a wad of phlegm. \n\n'I'm leading this jailbreak.' Tim said. and pulled her back using the momentum to propel himself. Alice huffed, perhaps at Tim's idiocy or perhaps to blow at a stray strand of hair. \n\nThe journey was upwards at a gentle incline that made it an easier walk, but also a longer one. \n\n'Want me to take over?' Alice asked when the light started to fade.\n\nSandy shook his head out of habit and put on a fake smile. \n\n'Sandy?' \n\nExhaustion played a part in Sandy's confusion, but he soon realised that she had not seen his head movements, nor the smile. 'Oh,' he muttered. 'no I'm fine, thanks though.' \n\nSandy cranked, it hurt, but he was a man and he had to appear strong. If Alice had not been here and someone else had asked then Sandy would have thrown the torch at them. But he enjoyed having a purpose amongst the group - if only to keep the light alive.\n\n'You can stop cranking that piece of crap.' Tim called, his voice somersaulting around the tunnel.\n\nThe light was feeble but Sandy aimed it at Tim's voice. A dark humanoid shape stood around two-hundred meters away, though it was hard to judge. Sandy continued to wind the torch, conscious that they would have to reach Tim first, but Alice put a hand on his strained arm and whispered. 'It will do.' \n\nSandy's skin prickled at her touch and walked with Alice to stand level with Tim. They could see why the torch was no longer needed, there was a halo of light dancing in the distance. \n\n'I didn't think we would actually...' Sandy trailed off.\n\n'You didn't think we were actually going to escape?' Tim said with a snort 'Of course we were! I said we would.' \n\nThe three of them walked together, slower than the last three days, and although Tim seemed confident, he dictated the pace. Alice's breathing quickened as the light approached and made Sandy notice his own, shallow breathing. They reached a cylindrical tube, filled with light and metal rungs that Tim used as support. Before either Sandy or Alice could ask what Tim was waiting for, he started to climb and it became real. They were going to escape. \n\n'Can you put this in my bag?' Sandy asked Alice as Tim's feet echoed against the rungs.\n\nSandy handed Alice the light source and turned his rucksack to face her. A loud clang echoed above as Tim, who had been so focused on not falling, struck his head against something solid. \n\n'You big friggin' coot!' He yelled.\n\n'Are you alright?' Alice called.\n\n'Of course, I am!' \n\nSandy could almost hear Alice rolling her eyes and then he heard the sound of poorly oiled metal. It scraped and screamed with a mixture of Tim's grunts. A blinding beam of sunlight burst from above.\n\n'It's warm!' Tim exclaimed and disappeared into the light.\n\nSandy stood back from the spotlight. 'You should go next. I'll catch you if you fall.' \n\n'Thanks.' \n\nSandy stood ready, with arms outstretched. He did not think he would be able to actually catch her, but the sentiment was there. \n\n'It's so *strange*.' Alice called down.\n\nSandy waited for her to disappear and then started. His arms throbbed and his feet ached, but the warmth from above lifted his spirit. He had seen pictures of the above. Shown on laminated paper, with a slight colour distortion from age, but he had been able to see trees, the sky and all things that seemed to tropical and foreign. When Sandy reached the opening and climbed out, he realised why the other two had not been yelling with joy. \n\nThe ground was barren. Not sand, or large bomb craters or three-headed animals from the supposed nuclear fallout. Barren. Sandy scanned the horizon and saw nothing. Just dirt. Brown flatlands without trees, without beauty and total monochromatic depression. It looked as if the area had been harvested of all that was good and then left to simmer for eternity.\n\n---\n\n/r/WrittenThought"
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She could have other powers too, but comic awareness must be in her repertoire.
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[WP] Your protagonist has the ability to break the fourth wall, and is actively subverting any and all of your attempts to send her on adventures.
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"I regret using that ancient ritual to bring the sketch of one of my characters on my computer to life.\n\nBecause now, every single time I want to draw her on an awesome, exciting adventure, the drawing mysteriously erases itself to simply the black-and-white character on a white background.\n\nHmm, maybe fate doesn't want me to continue with her story?\n\nWith this in my mind, I grab the mouse, and drag the thumbnail of the sketch from my desktop to my trash.\n\n\"An error occurred. The file cannot be deleted.\" appeared on the screen.\n\nMaybe I should continue on her story after all? Maybe, but who knows...",
"The alarm went off crisply at seven and Mary rolled over and ~~quickly turned it off~~ hit the snooze button. *Well, that wasn't right.* As I started to delete the prior phrase I noticed that it typed itself in again. ~~Mary reached over and turned the alarm off~~ Mary rolled over and went back to sleep. She still had a few hours before she had to be up. *No, that wasn't right. It was a work day. She needed to be up to go to her day job and not arouse suspicion...* The smell of coffee started wafting into the room from the automated coffee pot she had set the night before. Mary's stomach grumbled its normal morning protest. *Ha... got her...* ~~Mary started to begrudgingly get out of bed.~~ Mary ignored the smell of coffee by burying her face deeper into her pillow. *Oh what the fuck. Just get the fuck up.* \"No.\" Mary grumbled into the pillow. \"Don't wanna.\" *\"Just get up already.\"* Mary let out an exasperated sigh as she climbed out of bed. The sheets fell away from her ~~Nude~~ clothed ~~nude~~ clothed... \"Stop it you pervert.\" body. She let out a massive yawn before rubbing a little of the sleep out of her eyes. \n\nIt took the better part of an hour for Mary to get dressed and ready for the day. It was ~~Wednesday and she was already late for work now~~ Saturday so she could take her time and get ready for her date. *\"I'm not sending you on a date. We both know that you're still hung up on that one guy.\"* \"That guy was an ass. I can't believe you made me stay with him for a book and a half. I'm glad I finally kicked him to the curb. Besides, Lenny is so much cuter.\" *Lenny? Really that was the one she had a crush on?* Mary sipped at her coffee, ~~souring at the burnt~~ enjoying the wonderful taste of ~~Starbucks cheap~~ imported coffee beans.\n\n*This isn't going anywhere. Time for a time skip...* Mary was sitting at the downtown bistro that she loved so much when suddenly a ~~Cannonball~~ bird ~~cannonball~~ child's toy ~~cannonball~~ paper airplane ~~cannonball~~ Mariachi band *Okay, i'll give her that one* flew ~~past~~ on skateboards.\n\n*I give up.* \"Good, now here's now I want you to write my date with Lenny going. A girl has needs you know.\" *\"And you call me a pervert.\"* \"Takes one to know one.\"\n\nEdit: Just to be clear. The strike outs are where Mary revised the story. Italics are the authors thoughts.",
"It was on the ides of April, on a brisk spring morning, when Serena emerged from her shack into the crisp air and golden sunlight of dawn.\n\n“Very poetic,” she remarked, to the empty air of the forest, “Too poetic. Alright, what’ll it be today? Should I just go back to bed?”\n\nDespite her drowsiness, she felt an urge to explore, and to adventure, and to-\n\nOn second thought, she indeed returned to her bed, her unstrung bow by the door and her hunting knife on her belt, which she removed and hung over the bedpost holding the straw mattress. Little did she know, catastrophe was about to strike. A spot of misfortune, a skeptic might say. I say, it is fate. A simple mistake, it might be, but perhaps a fatal one as well.\n\n“Well, I’ve locked and bolted the door, made sure the fire was extinguished, and I have a window cracked and locked barely open for ventilation. Go ahead, find some “simple mistake” that messes me over. It’ll be a really dumb one, I assure you.”\n\nHer hubris was... foolish, shall we say, for the events to follow were totally out of her control to prevent. How could she predict, for instance, the dragon that was spinning in the sky, bearing down on her humble dwelling with flaming nostrils and devilish eyes. It had wings of scarlet velvet, like a bat’s in texture and opacity, and talons more vicious than an eagle’s. It’s sight was set on its prey, the unaware Serena who is merely lying in wait on her mattress- but she was not so unprepared, for her acute ears must have heard the bellies of the beast, and she grabbed her weapons and arrows and left from the door. She sprinted through the forest, dodging fallen logs and bracken, trying to find a place to hide and wait out the dragon. It would be of no use, since the dragon tracked her easily from above the canopy. It prepared for a dive, and then swooped down on its prey. There would be no escape, only battle now. The beast landed in front of her, shaking the very ground like a tremor and creating an imposing barrier, one that would have to be dealt with.\n\n“Wouldn’t be much of a story if I died in the first few pages, huh? You can’t kill me, because I have the most impenetrable protection of all: Plot armor.”\n\nHmm... yes....\n\nWell, I would have liked to detail the fierce battle that took place, where Serena is reduced to stabbing the dragon’a eye out with a broken arrow shaft, on the brink of defeat. Instead, this dragon turned out to be friendly, and invited her to climb on his neck. Together, they would explore the skies, conquering the air for thousands of miles in every direction- or they would have, if she didn’t stab the dragon in its weak spot on the back of its head. Then, she returned home, none the wiser.\n\nIt is at this moment at which I, the narrator, surrender my attempt at telling the actual story of Serena the dragon-slayer. It’s not like the whole plot was already worked out, with a bunch of character concepts and maps and even a side plot that would interconnect. There totally wasn’t a romantic sub-plot either. Nope, definitely was nothing else. I didn’t like her all that much anyways. "
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[WP] Nerf wasn't just a fun brand of toys. They were training the children for something bigger.
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"*Ca-chink boo, ca-chink boo, ca-chink boo.*Sweaty, cheese dust covered fingers press down on brightly covered triggers as far as the eye can see.\n\n*Ca-chink boo, ca-chink boo, ca-chink boo.*\n\nDave watches an invader explode into a brightly colored mess of goo as a well-aimed pellet reaches its target with exactly one thought in mind: *What the fuck is going on?*\n\nAds had reached Dave’s middle school exactly three weeks ago for any passionate Nerf players to meet in their local park with their guns and “any friends they could find”, Dave had never touched a Nerf gun in his life if he wasn’t counting the time Bobby Jones hit him over the head with one. \n\n\n*Oh. There goes Bobby now.* Another explosion coupled with the mad screams of a child who had spent his entire life shooting the neighborhood dogs. Perhaps Dave hadn’t gotten the memo, or perhaps he just hadn’t watched enough zombie movies when his grandmother had brought her TV over. Also, it really stinks."
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[WP]You’ve arrived at a singles only masquerade ball. You find yourself attracted to a masked lady, she has a secret, her secret is that she is married and her husband is there but isn’t aware that she is, before the night is over there is an announcement that one man, and one lady will be unmasked.
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"The living mask scared the shit out of me. When it first clung to my face and started spreading out I panicked. I feared it might close up over my mouth and eyes. Then the dark would strangle me out of existence. \n\nThe neural restraints prevented any instinct to pry it away from my flesh.\n\nThe first look in the mirror was akin to seeing an augmented reality mask for the first time on a smart phone. I was cartoonish in my features. The large dark eyes with small white pupils blinked with me and the mouth contorted to my feigned expressions. \n\nWhen I reached up and touched the physical scape of the high cheek bones and jutted chin that now were my face I was in a new plane of existence. Seeing my new identity in the mirror and actually touching it somehow changed something in my frontal lobes. I became another creature entirely.\n\n\"This way sir,\" the golem faced doorman greeted me into the main party chamber. \n\nThere was something in the air, a scented oil or fragrance that beckoned my steps into a new world. The lighting, the genre-defying music, and the other concealed patrons at the party prevented any escape back into my real identity. I was in a shared imagination.\n\nI'm not entirely sure how sexual attraction works in situations like this. Anonymity loosens inhibitions. Being told that everyone in attendance is single removes obstacles. The lack of cliques and clusters of friends, the removal of the herd mentality makes everyone equally vulnerability and predatory.\n\nWho is this person provoking your thoughts, admiring your body, and trying to ascertain the quality of your DNA without seeing your face? Are we all ugly under these masks, grotesque and shying away from the fate that biology has dealt us?\n\nThere she was. She looked like porcelain. Her mask was smooth, her eyes clear ovals, filled with translucent orbs that reflected the dark features of my mask. She was so stunning that in that party setting was instantly attracted to her. \n\n\nWe talked but not like first daters. This was a Tinder moment. We were swiping left over each others inhibitions and right over our mutual desires. I wanted her anonymous, to pretend I was as cool as I thought she was. I was persona and style, with a pretense of substance.\n\nBut then the careful me ruined it all. I was that roommate in college again. The one not dropping acid but still watching Space Odyssey and ruining everyone else's high by refusing to bend my mind to their dimension.\n\n\"Can you give me something that is real? Something at your core that I can hold onto after tonight when this crazy stream of consciousness is over?\"\n\nShe was taken aback by the statement. I had dropped the banter and poked a hole in her façade. She stammered in response and the porcelain mask lost some of its glimmer.\n\n\"I...I don't know what you mean? Are you getting weird on me? You're not going to ask me to marry you next are you?\"\n\nI panicked, \"No! Not at all. This is fun but... But frankly I'm not here for a one night stand. I mean I know the premise of such a party is anonymous liaisons, anonymous hookups, and such... And don't get me wrong I'm not a prude, but this isn't all I want from you. Everyone here is single but I have to assume we're not here just to copulate, that there's something more beyond tonight. I get the sense you're here seeking more than anonymous flirtation.\"\n\n\nAs I stammered on I got the awareness that I had blown it. I wasn't sure if the mask would reflect the heat of my embarrassment as a blush or not. It felt weird to put my face in my hands and feel its smooth exterior as the touch translated down the interface as sensation to my real face.\n\n\nSurprisingly she tenderly touched my hand in response then drew close for a kiss. Once done I opened my eye to her strange translucent ones. They somehow conveyed a deep sincerity.\n\n\nHer red lips parted, \"Thank you. Thank you for being real. For giving your vulnerability to me. For putting yourself out there like that.\"\n\n\nI perked up at the attention. It felt good. It felt right.\n\n\n\"I want to give you more, \" she smiled and the coyness returned. \"I will give you more. I want to be honest with you...\"\n\n\nHer purse started vibrating. It was as if some sincerity alarm had gone off in the building and that the party had detected two genuine people in the midst of the hedonism.\n\nShe plucked her phone from the purse and her mask reflected inner anxiety. \n\n\n\"I'm sorry I have to take this. Can you wait here a few minutes and not give up on me. I know I have given you nothing to hold you to this spot when there are tons of other women here, but I don't want this conversation to end.\"\n\n\"No one has intrigued me tonight like you have. You have my sole undivided attention even in your hopefully brief absence,\" I reassured her.\n\n\nShe thanked me, kissed my cheek, and then hurried off towards the restroom.\n\n\n\"This seat taken?\" a deeper confident male voice interrupted my inner dialogue. \n\n\"Well um, yes the lady you just saw stepped away but for only a moment, \" I hoped he would get the hint about my sexual preferences.\n\n\"Relax Bucko, I'm not here to Grinder you.\"\n\n\"Oh, sorry. Did not mean to offend!\" \n\nI noticed his mask for he first time. It was puma-like, tan, and covered his entire skull. He didn't wait for an invitation and just sat down in the chair across from me.\n\n\"She's something special isn't she?\"\n\nI nodded worrying that he was trying to make himself my competition.\n\n\"Relax kid, I'm not here to steal her away from you or her husband. I just hadn't seen you here before and wanted to make sure you weren't wading into treacherous waters,\" he winked at me with his cat eye.\n\n\"Husband? How would you even know that she had one?\"\n\n\"I'm a detective in real life. It has served me fairly well in situations like this. Everyone belies their true selves if you give them enough time. Didn't you notice the tan line on her left hand? The ring finger?\"\n\n\n\"I... I just assumed everyone here was single as the party is billed as...\"\n\n\n\"Yeah yeah kid. That's the tagline but reality is that this is a meat market and everyone isn't exactly happy with their catch at home. You get my drift?\"\n\n\n\"Are you married?\"\n\n\n\"If I were I wouldn't tell you,\" he smirked and his mouth exposed a fang. I didn't know that level of detail in the masks were possible. I winced imagining it pushing into my mouth and gagging me.\n\n\"Do yourself a favor and ask her the right questions. If you're looking for a fling then maybe she's your thing, but you seem more boy scout than butcher behind that snout,\" He flicked my extra-large nose with his finger.\n\n\nHe stood, smiled, gave me a pat on the shoulder, and then melted back into the crowd. \n\n\n"
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[WP] You come home to see your pet has made a massive mess...only to realize it spells out something.
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"'Why' was my first, exasperated thought when I came home. My living room looked like a bomb had gone off. Books were strewn about haphazardly, feathers from shredded pillows still drifted in the air, and the curtains had been pulled down, letting in the moonlight that illuminated the scene. Right in the centre of the room was Rocky, my golden retriever. But, this time it was different. Rather than the classic guilty look I had grown accustomed to, he almost looked determined. He seemed to deliberately shuffling objects in the floor with his paw, and moving things with his snout.\n\nIt was then I realized.\nThe mess spelled out the word 'Helo'.\n\nThis has to be a coincidence, it wasn't like dogs were sentient. But those deliberate movements seemed too specific to be chance. Doubt gnawed at my mind - but I still felt like an idiot as I said 'Do you understand me?'.\n\nHe nodded his head.\n\nWhat the hell?\n\nHe shuffled the mess around again, and when he stepped back, I saw a new message.\n\n'Sumthings'\n\nThe childlike spelling seemed to make sense in my one part of my mind, he's a dog, he can't spell. Then the other part chimed in with the helpful insight that he was a damn dog. Where dogs known to do crazy trash like this?\n\nAnother change in the message\n\n'In'\n'The'\n'Hous'\n\nWas he... Was he trying to save me from something? Nothing could be inside, the door was locked when I left. But I knew he was trying to help, in some freakish, unnatural way. How did he even learn this?\n\nBut then I saw the broken glass.\n\n"
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[WP] There is only one thing that distinguishes humanity from the rest of the galaxy: humans will pet ANYTHING
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"The cool crisp air reminded Steve of back home. The ranch he grew up in seemed like a far memory. Its where he learned to herd cattle and shoot his rifle and its the only place he wanted to be in this moment. \n\nThey had been waiting for hours. A full show of military, gathered around what appeared to be a space ship. No one knew where it came from or what to expect.\n\nSteve, snapping back to reality, drew his m16 automatic rifle and adjusted his eyes down the sights. This might not be a friendly visit for all he knew.\n\nWhen the alien crafts door finally began to open everyone went silent. Steam spewed out of the door. \"Is this it?\" Steve thought to himself, \"Is this how we finally go down as a species?\" \n\nThrough the smoke, a four legged creature appeared slowly. It made its way down the space ships ramp and took a look around. \n\nInstinctually, Steve knew what to do. He lowered his weapon and kneeled on the ground. His commander told him to stand up but it was too late for that. The alien was already in a full sprint towards Steve. \n\nHe outstretched his arms as it came closer and closer. All those years at the ranch, all that time spent around animals, he knew what this alien wanted. \n\nWhen the alien finally made its way to Steve you could see its tail wagging. Moving right into his outstretched arms, Steve immediately rubbed its head, moving to its ears and then finally its back. This must have been what the aliens wanted...a good old fashioned petting.",
"Jillian watched the alien landscape swirl past the viewing window as the craft approached the landing pad. Jayzan, finally! Hurrying to the exit queue, she was first in line before the roar of the landing rockets dissipated. The exit hatch slid open, ramp whirring into place, revealing a wondrous kaleidoscope of color. \n\nThe atmosphere was similar to earth, more so than most other planets. Jillian patted the pouch of oxygen compensators and smiled. Cringing at the realization she was reveling in her co-worker’s misfortune, resulting in her taking his place at the last minute. She closed her eyes, reveling in the foreign scents taunting her, the perfume of adventure. Her first and only.\n\n Jillian marveled at the landscape before her, it was like something out of a fairy tale book. Large pink whorls adorned the trees lining the walkway, spirals of purple and lime green sprouted from neatly tended beds. \n\nShe was itching to meet with the botanist she had corresponded with. Sight unseen, she liked them already. Anyone that loved plants as much as much as she did, was a friend in her book. \n\nA floating sign with her name shimmering in orange caught her attention. Below it stood a very tall, willowy Jayzanian. “Probably Begonia.” She waived and a tentative smile spread across the alien's slender face.\n\n After first contact, it seemed like everyone in plant sciences was named after an earth plant. Sedge and Rush seemed to be the favorite of the males here, although, no offense it was difficult to differentiate between genders.\n\nWhen Jillian stepped forward, a small, blue fluffy object stopped directly in front of her. It made a slight purring sound, which brought to mind Jazz, her cat still waiting patiently on board. Not thinking, she automatically reached down and patted the fuzzy blue creature. The moment her hand left it, the fur was sucked inside revealing a round metal casing. Almost instantaneously the blue fur popped back out and the creature was on its way.\n\nJillian turned slightly, watching it scuttle away to the next person. In doing so she encountered the smirking face of the ship’s captain. “Didn’t you read the customs manual provided to you?” Sheepishly she replied “Well most of it. I was too excited to concentrate. Why.”\n\n“Well , in earth terminology, one would say you just petted a very soft porta potty.” He continued to snicker as he brushed past, “You might want to read up, in case you need one for anything other than petting.”\n",
"\"DON'T TOUCH IT!\"\nThe scream echoes down the long stone hallway. It isn't English, but your implant allows your brain to translate the words in real time, just like it allows your digestive tract to eat nearly anything (except from the planet Quiptore, but the government is currently working on a patch for this), and like how it allows you to breathe many things that are not oxygen. Necessities for a space traveler. \nThe words are coming from a cloud of white smoke at the end of the hall. As it moves quickly toward you, you let your hand hover over the tiny star just about a foot away. \nIt's just so cute. You have to pet it. You can't help yourself.\nWhen humans started traveling to other solar systems nearly 200 years ago, other species began their experiments to understand the human race. Most of these alien species had known of humans for years, but they cared little to know what made the race tick. But once they started exploring the voids and other worlds in between, these beings from outside planets began to worry. What if the humans were more of a threat than they appeared on the surface?\nAfter decades of experiments, tests, dissections and more, the Interplanetary Coalition for Inter-Species Understanding released its findings: Human Beings really, really liked small versions of big things. It didn't matter what it was. Kittens. Puppies. Baby shoes. Even teeny Tupperware containers. And what was even more interesting? These creatures could hardly stop themselves from touching these miniatures.\nReally very little else mattered about humans, the ICISU announced. They had achieved primitive means of warfare and only understand three dimensions (ha!), so they posed virtually no threat to the rest of the cosmos. Many planets treated them like docile house pets.\nBut the ICISU didn't account for humanity's enormous capacity for stupidity. It was clouded by how cute the creatures were. And this proved to be a fatal error on many occasions. There was the Mass Pudding Drought of '89, followed by the Chrono Explosions in the star dust mines in '97. And now, here you are, about to pet a star.\n\"Don't you know what will happen once you touch that?\" The cloud of gas asks.\nYou don't. \n\"You will serve as fuel to the flames and we will all be engulfed. I would not care one iota if it were only you to be harmed, but I will not allow this planet, made up of pure oxygen, to go with you.\"\nYou hesitate. It's a catch 22, for sure. You either pet this really cute star and kill an entire planet of sentient beings, or you don't pet the really cute star. \nWell. Who could really blame you? You are only human after all. And you just can't help yourself. It's just too cute.",
"The landing craft they were in shook violently and outside there were audible gunshots and explosions. It didn’t scare Marcy. She had spent too much time away from home, fighting, for that. Through the small, reinforced windows she could see plumes of smoke and crumbling skyscrapers. It would be an urban battlefield.\n\n‘ETA sixty seconds!’ the Ithorian commander screamed. ‘The furry bastards run quick and kill even quicker. Watch your six!’ he continued, straining his already high pitched voice. He paused for a few seconds while he caught his breath. ‘And watch out for their beasts. Their bite…’\n\nThe landing craft was ripped open, silencing the commander as large metal fragments opened his throat. Marcy and Ulfrik, being strapped in next one another, were flung out together.\n\nA splitting headache and the sensation of concrete crumbs falling on her face awoke Marcy. She jumped up, side arm at the ready, but the dizziness brought her back to her knees almost instantly.\n\n‘Ulfrik!’ she called out. But no one answered.\n\nAs her blurred vision returned to normal she discovered that she had somehow landed on the second floor of a ruined building, standing at the edge of a large square. Next to her she found an unconscious Ithorian. She walked over and slapped him in the face.\n\n‘Wake up fish brains!’ she shouted unsuccessfully. Angered she kicked her downed ally with her armoured boot.\n\nHis gills opened and dust was ejected out. Marcy could hear strange gurgling noises coming from his mouth. Disgusted, she stood and watched how the Ithorian belched and threw up blood infused fluid right next to her feet. He died seconds later.\n\nShe rolled her eyes and proceeded to make her way down to square. There she found Ulfrik, his leg pinned under a stone pillar.\n\n‘Hey Marcy, glad you could make it. Want sit down for a minute and eat a sandwich or something.’ He asked surprisingly lively.\n\n‘Sure thing big guy, but we’re kind of… lightyears away from the nearest sandwich.’ She said With a wry smile.\n\nHer eyes turned sombre as she assessed her companion’s leg. It would be impossible to free him without cutting it off.\n\nUlfrik caught her expression. ‘Don’t worry about it Texas honeybee. I hear they sell some really nice prosthetics these days.’\n\nShe wanted to let him know that she wouldn’t leave him. But she couldn’t find the words before an Ikmo spotted them.\n\n‘Shit. They’re here.’ Marcy cursed.\n\n‘Take my rifle and give me a grenade. There’ll be a surprise waiting for them if they get past you.’\n\nMarcy made the trade and peeked from behind the cover of the fallen pillar. ‘*He* won’t there’s only one. He has got a beast with him though.’\n\n‘Don’t think of it as a beast. Think of it as meat for my sandwich.’ He chuckled. ‘Now, woman, go make me a sandwich.’\n\nThe rider didn’t shoot or charge when Marcy appeared from behind the rubble. Most likely he had never seen a human before. She knew that it had taken a long time before the Ithorians had finally caved, and accepted human help in protecting their core worlds. As they approached each other the beast let out several rapid, high pitched squeals. The rider dismounted and gave a command. The beast charged.\n\n‘He’s sending in his beast.’ She said, stopping in her tracks. Several seconds of silence passed before she continued. ‘It’s fucking cute.’\n\n‘What?’ Ulfrik asked flabbergasted.\n\n‘I said it’s fucking cute. I’m going to pet it.’\n\n‘Are you insane?’\n\n‘Yep.’\n\nYears of training and genetic mutations had made her extraordinarily nimble. With grace, she spun around the beast as it lunged at her. She grabbed the saddle and grabbing hold of its fur, she climbed on.\n\n‘Are you kidding me!?’\n\n‘What? Are you alright?’\n\n‘It’s really soft as well.’\n\nShe pressed her legs together to hold on to the beast, that was thrashing around, trying to get her off, and started petting it behind the ears. Within seconds the animal was on its back exposing its vulnerable belly. She looked around and saw the Ikmo soldier staring at her. She smiled at him, prompting him to turn and run.\n\n‘Ulfrik?’\n\n‘Yeah.’\n\n‘I think we just won the war.’",
"\"Honey, don't let it touch you!\"\n\nGod, please don't speak like I'm some 'thing'\n\n\"-You never know what it could have touched before!\"\n\nThis woman...\n\n\"Don't worry Mayvel, I'm not gonna let him touch me - and frankly I don't think he'd want to touch me, my fur is all out of sorts today\"\n\nSure, just go on like I'm not here. I'll wait.\n\n\"Those things touch everything, everywhere. It could have touched a plague rat on rigel 7!\"\n\n\"If he'd have touched a plague rat he'd be dead by now! And frankly a little contact with an alien species isn't going to kill you Mayvel!\"\n\nI get this shit everywhere I go now... I mean, can people just not keep their hands to themselves?\n\n\"My great-aunt Margarou got touched by a human once, now she has a lien on her house. Just don't let it touch you!\"\n\nLike, just be respectful of alien races... It's not that hard, I can't believe the people who go about cock-sure and spouting off giving us all these bad reputations... \n'always so loud' \n'touching EVERYTHING' \n'overconfident beyond measure' \n\n... assholes, humanity really is full of them...\n\n\"Your great-aunt has a problem with gambling, don't even bring this into it!\"\n\nTheir tails swish when they get mad... heh, that's kinda cute... oh my god his ears are standing up... ya know this whole time I've been noticing that his fur does look rather soft..\n\n\"Sal, the human! It's getting closer to you!\"\n\nOhhhh god I GOTTA HUG IT!\n\n\"GET IT OFF ME! AHHH! MAYVEL YOU WERE RIGHT, ITS GOT THE PLAGUE!! I DON'T WANNA DIE!!!\"\n\nOh god this fur is bliss, I could just LIVE here!\n\n\"I'M GOING TO GO FIND AN OFFICER; BUT I TOLD YOU SO, SAL!\"\n\nOhhhhh man that's good... wait, ah shit.",
"My dear and revered master eternal, wise and almighty emperor, Jezelt,\n\nYour divine inquiry has been received and treated with utmost respect. As the Blessed General leading the Sol Invasion, I greatly and sincerely apologise for the delay in conquering the sole intelligent planet in this system, Earth. It is what the native ruling species call their planet.\n\nThe unfortunate delay in conquering Earth is not due to a intelligence report that underestimated our enemies true strength and technological level, as what we have experienced in the Xan and Torly systems. It is not also due to the support of stronger civilizations, which was what we saw in the Central Quadrant. \n\nIn fact, the work gathered by our expeditionary force was accurate and truthful. It allowed our strategists to form an efficient and effective invasion plan. Our superior technology overwhelmed the pitiful defence forces of Earth, nullifying any chances for our enemies to launch a full-scale counterattack well ahead of our initial projected schedule. Even the human's last resort, the primitive nuclear missiles, were no match for us.\n\nBy the fourth week, only paltry ground resistance forces remain. Our scouts were right in that these humans do not give up hope easily. Like the Mertorians. They fight to the bitter end even when they know they have no chance of winning. Lead kinetic bullets against energy weapons? Laughable.\n\n We were prepared to take the entire planet ahead of schedule. I was prepared to personally invite your most revered to witness us raising our glorious banner on the ruins of what used to be Earth's biggest and most advanced city. I even planned it to coincide to what would be the decisive victory against the last considerable resistance group.\n\nBut the unthinkable happened. Something our strategist never predicted. An outrage. Treachery!\n\nThe scum humans ambushed an important supply depot of ours. A location that was supposed to be top secret and secure. A feat that was only capable with help from our own soldiers.\n\nI refused to believe it at first. Perhaps the humans got lucky. The commanders shared my thoughts. We ordered an immediate attack on the nearest known human base. A message needed to be sent.\n\nIt was supposed to be a routine mission. Something that we have done numerous times. But we lost. Our glorious army lost to the primitive apes. It was then when our worst fears were confirmed. Our own people were aiding the humans! I saw it with my own eyes. Proud Jeseltians, standing on the side of our enemy! I saw one firing a shot against his own Jeseltian brother before the feed got cut off.\n\nWe were betrayed. Stabbed in our own back.\n\nUnfortunately, your most revered, it only got worse. For reasons unknown back then, Jeseltian soldiers were deserting en masse to the humans. \n\n**DESERTING! TURNING THEIR BACKS ON THEIR OWN RACE!**\n\nThey murdered their own officers, stole our own technology for the humans. Never before in all my years of service, never before has this happened. The scum humans, along with the race traitors, started winning in battles. They retook key positions. Started coming out from the caves they were hiding in. The sight of humans with Jeseltians were more than disgusting. Like pests mingling together.\n\nI made it our army's priority to figure out what went wrong. What made loyal Jeseltians attack their own brothers and sisters? Were the humans hiding some sort of mind controlling device? Did they have telepathic abilities that we were unaware about?\n\nThe answer came from an intercepted communication between a deserter and a soldier still within an army. The deserter claimed that the humans were capable of showing this thing called compassion. Mercy for your enemies. A weak and disgusting trait.\n\nThe message highlighted where the change happened. It started from the capture of one of our elite squads. They were sent to eliminate one of the human's last leaders. They were caught. We thought they were dead. Per your divine doctrine, all captured soldiers are to kill themselves as martyrs. This group did not. Unlike us, the humans do not kill their prisoners too. The assassins were kept alive.\n\nIn captivity, the unthinkable happened. A human child managed to put its hand on one of the soldier's head and rubbed it. A hostile act, like what masters are supposed to do to slaves, but according to the message, it was different. The humans call the act petting. It referred to the action of gently rubbing their hands against fur of animals. They do it to their slave species that they call pets. We thought it was an act of dominance. We were wrong.\n\nThe details were sketchy. One thing led to another, and suddenly loyal Jeseltians equated the petting action to acts of love and compassion. Because of one stupid act, we are now faced with this ridiculous situation.\n\nI intend to put a stop to this, your most revered. We have captured a human in our midst. We are going to study this act of petting. To prove my loyalty to you, dear emperor, I have asked to be petted by our captive. I am going to show the rest of our still loyal Jeseltians that this is nothing but a cowardly act that ultimately does nothing.\n\nAfter that, we will kill that captive and we will annihilate the humans and the traitors. I promise you that, oh almighty. We will continue to carry forth your sacred will to rid the galaxy of these impure aliens. Earth shall be ours. Humans will be eliminated.\n\nWait for my good news.\n\n*Your humble servant,\nGeneral Doggo von Bark*\n\n-------------- \n\n*/r/dori_tales*",
"Who would have thought that galaxy domination would be so easy.\nAs it turns out, all other forms of life other than human beings are adorable, yet they somehow evolved to have no hands.\nThis however just exemplifies their adorable ness. So it was a quick decision upon first contact with these extraterrestrials to walk up and begin petting them.\nI was doing it before I even knew.\nLuckily for me, the lack of appendages on their part meant they had never experienced such joy, such pleasure as a pet provides. \nIn return for the human races ability to pet they offered us technological advances we couldn’t have dreamt of in 10,000 years, perhaps more. As humanity left our solarsytem our ability to pet gained us favour with all known sentient life throughout the universe. We are praised as gods, and our subjects are not just loyal...\nThey are good boys."
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[WP] Against All Odds, you win the 1.5 billion dollar Mega Millions lottery. you have always been a person to live within your means, but now you have the ability to do just about anything imaginable.
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"Have you ever had one of those moments where every goal you’ve ever had, every plan you’ve ever made, everything you’ve built your life around is suddenly obsolete. There’s a strange sense of dread that accompanies that feeling. It’s not loss, you’re not grieving, it feels more like you are unmoored from all of the things you held onto to ground yourself. You’re just set adrift into the unknown, even if you should feel overjoyed at the change, it still feels disorienting.\n\nLife is not easy for anyone. Even the most privileged people in the entire world still have their own struggles, but it hasn’t exactly been a cakewalk for me either. I’ve had far more than my fair share of traumas and problems without solutions. I’ve worked so hard to get where I am. I know other people have problems too, but it feels like some people just got lucky and started out in a position that I’ve had to put all my blood, sweat, and tears to even approach. I’ve always thought of my resilience and persistence as part of my identity. I work hard, that’s what I do. \n\nSeptember 2nd 2018 was the day I was unmoored. I have never been one for gambling. I always thought it was a stupid and ridiculous form of entertainment. I could never get into the mindset of “maybe this will be the one”, when I knew that gambling as a business model only works if you’re bound to lose money on it. On September 2nd though, I walked into a gas station to pick up a snack for my long commute home. Some guys at work had been talking about this Mega-Millions lottery that was going on. Biggest jackpot in history, one-point-five billion dollars. Billion with a b. All of them had bought multiple tickets each, which I thought was ridiculous. Going from a point zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, one percent chance to a point zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, two percent chance was so meaningless that it nearly drove me up the fucking wall. But I had just got my bonus check in the mail, and I felt like I needed a bit of a pick me up. Just something small, something to hope for to tide me over the next few hours. \n\nI won. \n\nBy some freak joke of the universe I won one-point-five billion dollars. I was sitting in my apartment, scrolling through some pointless feed when I heard the news. I looked at the numbers on my cracked phone screen, and looked at the numbers on my ticket. I looked at the screen, I looked at my ticket. I went back and forth for at least a full minute before I even began to process what on earth was happening.\n\nA series of thoughts went through my head faster than I could catalogue them. This had to be a dream, one said. This can’t be right, said another. We finally got the lucky break we always deserved, said a third. Ideas and potential filled my brain. I felt so unimaginably overwhelmed. Suddenly I didn’t have to struggle to make small, incremental progress in my life. I had skipped the line. I could do anything I wanted. I didn’t know what I wanted, but that was kind of besides the point. I had no idea what I was going to do. I had jumped a thousand tax brackets in an instant. None of the ideas and principles I had built my life around applied in the same ways. \n\nThe practical part of my brain finally made its way to the foreground as it always did. First things first, we’re calling a lawyer.\n",
"First I hire a fucking lawyer. One of those really fucking good ones, not the one down the street. One of those ones in a different state. I'm dumb, I need other people to do this shit for me. But my power is that I know I'm dumb. My lawyer told me not to tell anyone that I'm rich. I'm dumb, but not that dumb. Anyway, not many people to tell. Just the guys at work. Didn't want them treating me different.\n\nThen I hire a guy to invest money for me (as the lawyer told me to do). And hire a guy to tell me that that guy isn't screwing me over. I still have about 500 million dollars. No family (except that prick of a brother that I haven't talked to in 20 years). Maybe if I have a kid some day...\n\nI guess I don't really know what to do. I've never really spent much money, not because I'm careful, mostly just because my tastes aren't all that fancy. Maybe I'm too dumb to appreciate that good shit. Like that really expensive wine, or traveling to europe. I guess if I was smarter I'd want to travel to europe. What would I do in europe?\n\nI like my dog. And I like walking in the creak behind the house. I don't need any money for that shit. I guess I don't need to work anymore, that's cool. Ya... maybe my boss will let me work at the shop some days still... if I get bored. And I guess I can start buying that good quality steak. And get my teeth fixed.\n\nPeople with this kind of money hire prostitutes. I haven't had sex in a while. I could try that. I could get one of them super fancy escorts (I think they call em) and I could get my dick sucked every night... by 2 chicks at the same time... Feels a bit silly to be honest. I guess I'll try it at some point.\n\nFuck, what am I going to do with all this money? Where do people get all there wanting for stuff from? I wish I was smarter."
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[WP] You secretly run the most successful magic apothecary in town one day your crush comes in asking for a love potion for your arch enemy
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"Look, it's not like I'm a witch or anything. I mean, not *really*. Potions aren't magic; they're more like . . . science. And people flock to that sort of thing, while simultaneously being suspicious of it.\n\nWhich is why my apothecary stall in the flea market is ostensibly a perfume shop. I get a satisfactory income from that, but thanks to word of mouth advertising, the potions business is thriving. \n\nOne of my best customers is Ashley, who runs a used book stall across the floor from me. She usually buys simple things like sleep- and energy potions. Honestly, she could get almost the same effects with Unisom and Red Bull, but I don't mind mixing something up for her. \n\nActually, I've developed a massive crush on her over the last couple months. Unfortunately, I've got the bi girl's curse of never being able to tell if another girl is also into other girls. You know, unless she's *super* obvious about it. Ashley is not super obvious about it. Despite *maybe* catching a flirty glance from her every now and then, I've only heard her talk about men.\n\nAnd the man she talks about most? This idiot named Doug, who just so happens to run the other apothecary in town. He flies much less under the radar than I do, but despite that his business isn't exactly booming. Therefore he's resorted to a subtle campaign of sabotage. He's not very good at that, either. He's declared himself my arch-nemesis, but he's really more annoying than anything else. \n\nI had just opened my stall on Friday morning when I saw Ashley making her way over to me. She smiled at me. God, I love her smile. \n\n\"Hi, Kelly,\" she said.\n\n\"Hey, Ash.\" I glanced under the counter to see if I had any sleepy time potions ready to go. \"I've got energy, but if you want sleep I'll have to mix up a new batch.\"\n\n\"Oh! Um . . . .\" She shook her head awkwardly. \"Actually, I'm good on those. I was wondering if you have - I mean, if you could make, like . . . a love potion?\" She looked at me, a combination of nervousness and hopefulness playing across her features. \"It's uh, for Doug.\" She shrugged helplessly. \n\nI felt my breakfast turn to a solid lump in my stomach, and my breath grew shallow. Most people look at me and assume I'm some tough goth girl, but truthfully I hate conflict.\n\n\"Oh , I - I don't sell anything that takes away a person's free will.\" I took a deep breath. Is consent not a priority for Ashley, or is she just buying into a trope without analyzing it? Please let it be the latter . . . .\n\n\"Oh!\" She blinked at me with a look of vague surprise.\n\n\"Yeah.\" I did an awkward shrug and nod combo. \"Love potions are like magical roofies, basically. Takes away a person's ability to consent, you know? I'm just . . . not cool with that.\"\n\nI paused to gauge her reaction. Oh, God, is she going to think I just called her a rapist or something?\n\nShe thought it over for a nerve-wracking length of time, then nodded and smiled shyly. Argh, that smile! I die a little every time. \"I guess I never thought about that. You're not wrong.\"\n\nMy stomach unknotted a little. \"Look, you know I'm not wild about Doug, but if you're interested in him, why don't you just be direct?\"\n\nOh, God, I'm one to talk.\n\nAshley's face flushed slightly. \"I uh . . . was. This was my last resort.\" She met my eyes with chagrin. \"My extremely *misguided* last resort, apparently.\"\n\nI wasn't sure what was left to say after that. If I agreed with her, would I come across as a judgmental ass? Finally I settled on, \"Hey, blame Harry Potter, right?\"\n\nShe laughed, and the tension dissipated. \"Hey, stop by my stall when you get a chance, okay? I got in a couple Octavia Butlers last night. I know she's your favorite.\"\n\nAs she walked back to her stall, she tossed another shy smile over her shoulder at me. It might have been my imagination (that damn bi girl curse again), but I would swear there was romantic speculation in that smile.\n\nBy the next weekend, Doug had somehow heard of my aversion to selling love potions and spread the word around. I think he was under the impression it would tank my business or something.\n\nMy business has doubled.\n\nThanks, Doug, you glorious moron."
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[WP] The universe is in the final stages of heat death. The last remnants of humanity live in ring stations built around white dwarfs and black holes. As the final stars die, humanity throws everything left into an insane, experimental technology- a technology that promises salvation.
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"There were no stars. They had all burnt out eons ago.\n\nThis universe is dead. There is nothing here remaining for mankind.\n\nThat is the purpose of the Oculus, mankind’s greatest creation.\n\nThe Oculus will destroy this world, and from the debris, create a new one. \n\nIt is complete, all that’s left now is to say the words.\n\n“Let there be light!”",
"Humanity Had Advanced Vastly. It Had Spread Everywhere in the universe. But Now It was Dying, Most Of The Stars were Dead, some remaining Humans were stationed is leftover planetary systems. Scientists Predicted they had few days till death of some remaining Primary Stars Where Most Humanity Resided. \n\nAlthough still some Humans Would Be Left but that too was not a viable survival Possibility. Scientists did not have enough time , they had to somehow Buy Enough time, but Time Travelling Machines Were Not Invented. All there was there were some theories . Most Of The Humanity's Resources were spent on a secret Project Codenamed \"Hope\". Many Were Skeptical of it but most reasoned They had nothing to Lose. And Still some people Who believed that they Should Not Try To Cheat \"God\". But Most People Supported this Project as it was the Last 'Hope' of Humanity.\n\nAt The centre Of Universe there is A Massive Black Hole. The Scientists created a Self Independent Space Station Protected Profusely with theoretically ability to Operate Infinitely. Some Special Scientist's with equipments and Some Commanding Officers And Families, to continue Humanity were Stationed In The Capsule. The Theory Was that the Space Station will orbit so near the black Hole that due to its gravitational effects time Slows Down massively and the scientists could try to find the solution or maybe their generations to come. (1:1,00,000 Years be the time Ratio). \n\n\"Hope This Is Command, This Is The Last Transmission You would Be Receiving. After that you would enter the critical gravity zone Of The Black Hole. GoodBye,You Are the last Hope For Humanity. Whenever You Lose Hope Remember that All of The Humanity Is Dependent On You and Is Waiting For you. May You Be the Saviour Of Humanity. Over\"--Command\n\nNow The Whole Humanity Depends On Us. \n\n\n\nIf any Ideas would Come to me, I Would Update This Post Further.\n\nThis Is My First writing Prompt. Please correct my Mistakes,tell me what I Could Have Done To Make This Better.",
"\"Our project was controversial, to say the least. Most called us mad scientists. This is a fair point; we were, after all, right about to 'end the world'. But what did it mean anyway, with the entire universe in shambles, and only a handful of systems in a single galaxy still inhabitable? We had failed our mission as a species, and transitively, this universe had failed.\"\n\n\"Humanity used to believe that intelligent life should have had developed somewhere other than on Earth, where it began. This turned out to be wishful thinking. Once faster-than-light travel became possible, humanity spread everywhere, and never found anything more elaborate than algae on other worlds. We were alone. We were chosen.\"\n\n\"At the exact center of the universe laid a supermassive black hole, what now remains of the Big Bang. After millenia of observations, brilliant minds made an incredible discovery. The super-supermassive black hole, like all other black holes, was evaporating and emitting matter and radio frequencies–but the radio frequencies out of this one were a non-random waveform, repeating with a decades-long period. Somehow, this one encoded a message. And what a message! It had been left by the Previous Ones, those that stood before the beginning of time.\"\n\n\"Through their posthumous communication, they taught us that there had been another universe before ours. It was full of genial life, beautiful creatures and terrible fiends. Knowledge had been passed to them by Their Previous Ones: a challenge to break the cycle and discover some truth larger than the universe they lived in. However, through their specific circumstances, they never could break that code: their universe was programmed to expand indefinitely, leading to its heat death, just like ours. They learned from Their Previous Ones of an ultimate trick, should they be unable to find salvation: through a quantum inconsistency, it would be possible to create a certain quantity of information in the universe, adding just enough mass that gravity would cause the universe to collapse back on itself in a Big Crunch, and start over. Their final manipulation seeded the universe that we now lived in, and that was right about to expire, too.\"\n\n\"We conjectured that they were sufficiently advanced to parameterize this 'reboot' such that there would be only one intelligent race in the entire universe, in the misguided hope that it perhaps would suppress some strife that slowed down their scientific progress. We did not possess such technology.\"\n\n\"As soon as that message was partially decoded, many of the world's leading scientists tackled the gigantic task of understanding its secrets. We were sufficiently advanced that we knew how we could restart the world ourselves, should we reach their desperate point, millions of years ago. However, a massive war over resources tore apart our civilization, and there were just a few pockets of us left. Most thought that humanity could rebound, but we knew that it wouldn't, or that at least, it wouldn't understand its purpose before the end of its time. Faced with that inevitability, what good was it to keep the world going? We currently knew how being again, and couldn't guarantee that humanity still would a million years from now, when the fires of even the most hellish worlds wavered. It was our sacred duty to admit failure, and hope that the Next Ones would succeed where we didn't. If we did not, there was a real chance that the universe would reach its real death; the final state from which it couldn't escape.\"\n\n\"'It is time', the Secretary said. We raised our cups of pure water one last time. 'To the Next Ones', the Minister offered, with a barely discernible degree of doubt expressed for the first time in what all thought was unwavering faith. And when I finish my cup, I will raise a solemn finger, and press the Button.\"\n\n\"It is now up to you, Next One, to find meaning, and free yourself. We gave our lives to give you a chance. You must succeed, or love life enough to give yours up.\"",
"*This is my first one here in r/WritingPrompts HAHA feel free to criticize me (is that the correct term?)*\n\n\"From dust I was made, to dust I shall return,\" says the test subject, \"I'm ready.\" He was afraid to enter the machine, nobody knew what would happen. The fear he felt, thinking that the machine would destroy him.\n\nOn 2020, the secret to immortality was discovered, and he was the first to be turned. Now, that the universe is nearing it's end, it was thought reasonable for the first to be the last.\n\nOnly a week before, a paper from generations ago was discovered. It explained a way to harvest the energy of the entire universe into one man. \n\nIt was theorized that it would make a new big bang, remaking the universe. However, other suggested it would speed up the end. Yet the leaders of humanity agreed to it, they were going to die anyways they thought to themselves.\n\n\"I love you,\" he says to his wife standing alongside his entire family,\" I love you all.\"\n\n\"Initiating in 10 seconds\"\n\nHe took one last look around at the place as the doors were closing.\n\n\"5\"\n\n\"4\"\n\n\"3\"\n\n\"2\"\n\n \"1\"\n\n\"Initiating.\"\n\nHe closes his eyes then... nothing. He was no longer where he was a few moments ago. He was in a void of black. He felt strange, different than normal. \n\nUntil a stone tablet appears, \"You are now who you think I am.\" Confused, he thought to himself who is behind this. The writing on the tablet starts changing.\n\n\"I am who I am. I left your world yet I have not forsaken you. Of all my experiments, only your species achieved what I expected. This world is now yours, make it a better place.\"\n\nHe nods, but he can't nod. He finally noticed he was now a white orb, a dust in the void. He did not understand what anything the tablet meant but he had to do something.\n\nA thought came to mind and he laughed in his mind.\nHe attempted to talk and to which he says,\n\n\"Let there be light!\"\n\n",
"No distant lights. No imprint of the past left behind. Those who had gone before would have had a past, a present and a future to reflect on. Two of those options were gone now, and the third one grew increasingly unlikely by the day. \n\nAround him scientists worked frantically. The bags under their eyes highlighted their rabid eyes. Eyes that searched for a solution.\n\n‘Why won’t it fucking work!?’ Dr. Horst shouted. He flung his cup against the wall, shattering it in a dozen pieces. ‘We are running out of time, Michael. Everything is against us.’\n\n‘I know, Doctor, But we can’t give up. Salvation is just around the corner.’ Michael placed his hand on his colleague’s shoulder. ‘Think about the scientists who first began working the problem. What a daunting task they would have seen.’ \n\nTears rolled down the Doctor’s cheeks. ‘You are right. We can’t give up, not while we’re so close.’ He sighed and grabbed his head. \n\n‘Are you alright?’ Michael asked. \n\n‘Yeah I’m fine. It’s just… my head is killing me, and I really want to sleep.’\n\n‘Then go do that then. I will keep down the fort. We’ve been working on the last hurdle for days. Perhaps we should all take a rest. Even if it’s just for a couple of hours.’\n\nThe Doctor nodded and winced in pain as he felt the pains of his tired brain moving around inside of his skull. He called over the other scientists and explained that they would all be taking a break. \n\nAs the scientists filtered out of the room, Michael sat down in a comfortable old sofa that lingered in a forgotten corner of the room. He wouldn’t have to do much in the next few hours. Just keep an eye on the calculations. Make sure that he could shut down the computer before a massive calculation error disintegrated the entire system.\n\nSalvation was a tiresome process, not welcomed by all. Many had taken solace in knowing the end was near. They wanted to go out in tranquillity, convinced that the effort to save humanity would only herald a quicker demise.\n\n‘Fucking hypocrites.’ Micheal spoke his thoughts aloud.\n\nHow much peace did the inhabitants of Station Q12 have? He wondered. A dozen refugees arrived last week. There had been over a hundred scientists and dependants on that station. Most of them, now presumed dead. Slaughtered by those who disagreed with them.\n\nBut then again. Gathering as much antimatter as they could find and detonating it inside the largest black hole in the galaxy, to recreate a Big Bang, did sound like a truly suicidal plan. The Nay-sayers said they would all die. Those who believed, himself included, were adamant that it would work. The polarized subquarkian particles would protect the capsules, designed to carry humanity into the next universe. \n\nDeep in contemplation he dozed off.\n\n​\n\nA loud alarm woke him. He looked around, he was alone in the lab. Half asleep still, He ran over to the centre console, checking for an error. All lights green. \n\nSomeone banged on the door. ‘Anybody in there? We’ve got enemy ships inbound. We need to evacuate!’\n\nMichael did a double take. All lights green. They had always been blue. His drowsy mind worked through the problem at a snail’s pace. In the end, it dawned on him.\n\n‘Wait! Are you still there?’\n\nThe voice on the other side of the door replied affirmatively. \n\n‘Get Doctor Horst and the others. Tell him the calculations finished. We can put everything in motion. Right here, right now.’\n\nMichael didn’t receive a confirmation, but he heard the rapid footsteps of a man running to deliver a message.\n\nMinutes later a full complement of scientists and research assistants gathered in the room, going over the results one last time. That pretty blond was there too. From time to time they burst in to cheers, when they confirmed another part of the calculations. Michael couldn’t help being swept up in the euphoria.\n\nAll of that ended when a bloodied soldier walked in. \n\n‘They have breached the space ports. They are coming. Hurry up.’ He said, before collapsing on the floor.\n\nDr. Horst turned to his colleagues and said: ‘Get in the pods. I will finish up here.’\n\n‘What about our families?’\n\n‘I can’t guarantee there will be enough time.’ He stopped, and thought for a moment. ‘I will send out an intercom broadcast calling them here. Those who want to get them, go now, but I can’t promise we’ll be here when you come back.’\n\nAround a third of the people in the room ran for the doors. Desperate to bring their families to the new beginning. There would be space for them in the pods. \n\nDr. Horst nodded a final goodbye to Michael, he knew what was coming, and turned to the console. Michael turned and ran for the escape pods. \n\nNo intercom broadcast ever came, but Michael could hear gunshots and screams close by. He and twelve others locked themselves inside a capsule and put on the gear needed to survive the explosion. \n\nThere was no warning just a bright light.\n\n​\n\nHe opened his eyes. All around him, thick green grass waved with the wind. He couldn’t remember his name, or how he got here. He was naked. In the distance, he saw an apple tree. Somebody was standing next to it. He approached.\n\nA woman. She was naked too, and pretty. Her yellow hair touched by the wind, just like the grass. She was trying to pick an apple. \n\nHe should warn her about the snake."
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[WP] Voldemort is on a quest for world domination and it’s up to the Avengers to stop him...if they can.
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"\"What do you mean, all-powerful magic user? I've seen Thor do more magic just popping the corn for movie night.\" Tony smirked faintly at the Director, letting his eyes wander over the banks of screens. \"Look. He's got no nose and a skin condition. Let me set up an appointment with a plastic surgeon for him and he'll go home.\"\n\n\"This is no joke, Mr. Stark.\" spoke the Director, turning his own attention back to the screen. \"This - Voldemort appeared in LaGuardia and started turning people into dead people. Him and about twelve others like him demand that we, as the first nation to do so, abdicate all power to him or they will continue killing indiscriminately. Other nations, as they say, will follow.\"\n\n\"He is armed with a twig!\" chuckled Thor, hefting his hammer. \"And his arms are like twigs. And his followers - they are dogs baying at the heels of their master. Their magic is primitive, inelegant and seems to require both motion and shouting. Should we be afraid of these people?\"\n\n\"I agree, Sir.\" the red-headed woman stood impassively watching the destruction on screen as the 'Death-Eaters' caused it. \"Give me a high-powered rifle and a high perch and I'll take them all out and be done in time for lunch. Hell, between Hawkeye and myself we'll have time to catch a movie before then.\"\n\n\"So _none_ of you are taking this threat seriously?\" Fury's voice was taut with barely withheld anger - the Director crossed his arms, the screens fading; as they turned transparent they showed the gray New York sky through them, and the view over the city from on high. \"They teleport in and out of there with impunity and laugh at our armed forces. Yes, they can be hurt with bullets, but the trick is to actually get the bullets _to_ them. We've _sent_ a sniper team, Miss Romanov. They were... Ineffective. And I believe the sniper is now a bullfrog.\"\n\n\"Hulk **smash!**\" muttered the green giant, glaring out the window, unerringly in the direction of LaGuardia. Thor gripped his hammer and nodded. \"I agree with the Ogre.\"\n\nA phone rang in the room.\n\nFury answered it, listened for a few seconds, muttered an affirmative and then, slipping the phone back into his pocket, rubbed his forehead with his free hand, sighed. \"We have... A complication. Screens?\"\n\n\"Certainly.\" Tony gestured vaguely to the windows, the image on them changing back to the security cameras, press cameras and various other sources of video and audio from the airport.\n\nA tall, somewhat pale, long-haired man in green armor wearing a horned helmet had appeared, standing in the middle of a still-smoldering pattern of lines and whorls artfully burnt into the tarmac - swatting away blasts of magic from the Death-Eaters with a bladed staff and - laughing?\n\n\"I am Loki of Asgard, foul Lich!\" he exclaimed, taking a moment to flick his weapon and a particularly insistent Death-Eater, the staff lancing a bolt of golden energy out that threw the woman physically backwards, denting one of the many concrete pillars on impact. \"If _anyone_ takes control of this world it will be me. **Begone!**\" He thundered. \"This world is, until _I_ take posession of it, under _my_ protection!\"\n\n\"Yep.\" Drawled the man with the bow, his all-seeing eyes flicking from screen to screen even while his full attention seemed taken by the scene of the God of Magic and the Half-Dead Wizard squaring off against one another, tips of both staff and wand glowing.\n\n\"That seems like a complication alright.\"\n\nEdit : Minor details and some grammar. Feedback welcomed. Be gentle?"
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[WP] A Halloween version of "A Christmas Carol" with the Werewolf, the Arewolf and the Willbewolf
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"That was far longer than I thought it'd end up being! But I enjoyed writing it! Hopefully it's as enjoyable to read!\n\n*****\n\n\"SCROOOOOOO!\"\n\n\nEbenezer shot upright in his bed, his nightcap softly slapping him in the face. Heart racing, he turned to the bedside and placed his feet in his slippers. The light of the fireplace flickered across his bedroom lighting the hearth. Something was off. He never placed those jack-o-lanterns in front of it, Ebenezer hated Halloween and all the silly superstitions that came with it.\n\n\nA howl, unlike anything he's heard before rattled through his window, \"OOOOOOOOOOOOGE!\"\n\n\n\"What kind of childish person stands outside someone's window pretending to howl,\" he exclaimed to himself out loud. He shuffled over to the window and opened it to peer out onto the rain covered streets.\n\n\n\"SCROOOOOOOOOOOOGE!\"\n\n\nThis time the howl was louder, and Ebenezer thought he distinctly heard his name in the howl this time. Whatever miscreant was doing this was incredibly disrespectful to him and his neighbours. He bellowed out of the window, \"Be gone you miscreant! You are disturbing my sleep!\"\n\n\n\"Scrooge,\" this time his name was clearly spoken, not in a howl, and it was a deeper voice from below. Scrooge looked down and saw two incandescent yellow eyes peering back up at him. Shocked, he stumbled backwards and knocked his head on the sitting table before falling into a slump on his rug.\n\n*****\n\nOpening his eyes, vision blurred, Ebenezer blinks rapidly. He groans as he props himself up, other hand reaching for his head, \"What in blazes,\" he mutters.\n\n\"Ebenezer Scrooge,\" says an unknown, youthful voice behind him.\n\nStunned by the voice, he turns slowly, ending in a seated position on the floor. Before him, he sees the shadow of a person, small and slender, illuminated from behind by the fireplace. Ebenezer rubs his eyes once more and blinks a few times, once he opens them again, his stomach sinks and mouth drops wide.\n\nA young boy stands before him, \"Ebenezer, do you recognise me?\"\n\n\"N-n-n-n-no, w-w-w-what are you?\" He stammered out, voice frail with fear.\n\n\"It is me, Wilbur,\" said the voice softly, \"You do remember me don't you?\"\n\n\"Wilbur...\" Ebenezer raised one hand to his temple, \"Wilbur Wolfe?\"\n\n\"That's me, Ebenezer, you do recognise me!\" Wilbur's voice raised with excitement.\n\n\"But how... how are you in my house, and why are you not my age?\"\n\n\"That will come to be known, but you have forgotten so much, you harbour much hate, much distrust, and you push those around you away...\"\n\n\"What would you know,\" exclaimed Ebenezer, \"You haven't spoken to me in decades, what makes your childish form appear in front of me thusly?\"\n\n\"You are the reason I haven't spoken to you in decades, and I will show you what I mean.\"\n\nSuddenly, Wilbur dropped to all fours, as his body twisted and warped in unusual ways. Ebenezer, in complete fear of the situation, remained glued to his sitting chair. Wilbur's body changed shape, burst through the clothes and grew fur all over, and once the changes ceased he stood on his rear legs - as a werewolf.\n\nHis voice deeper now, but not as deep as the being outside, Wilbur spoke, \"This is what my future held, Ebenezer, you pushed me away, as you did many others, and now I exist permanently as a child, but never fully assuming the form of a Wolf, and now you will see what your actions have done to others.\"\n\nThe wolf-formed Wilbur lurched forward and bit Ebenezer on the wrist, only hard enough to make a single puncture.\n\n\"Ahh! What have you done Wilbur? What kind of sorcery is thi-\" he trailed off as he lost consciousness.\n\n******\n\nEbenezer awoke, this time standing in the street, in front of him he sees Wilbur once again, standing next to another boy... it was himself!\n\n\"What is going on!\" He reached forward to grab Wilbur's shoulder, but instead, his hand passed right through him.\n\n\"Come on Wilbur, I bet this next house will have great hard-candies!\"\n\n\"Yes! Let's get some more!\" exclaimed Wilbur.\n\nThey ran off to the house in front of them and knocked on the door.\n\n\"Trick or treat!\" they shouted in unison.\n\n\"Oh such wonderful costumes, a ghost and an army-man, here you go lovelies.\" The older lady placed a handful of candies in each of their buckets.\n\n\"Do you remember this?\" asked Wilbur as his wolf-form appeared suddenly in front of Ebenezer.\n\n\"I do, we had so much fun trick-or-treating. What is this? How am I seeing this?\"\n\n\"My bite has placed you in a slumber and we have tapped into your memories. I control what you see, and felt this was a good starting point.\"\n\n\"What is the point of -\" he was cut off abruptly as the vision spun out of sight at dizzying speeds before stopping in an instant at a different location. Ebenezer stumbled as a result of the rapid stopping, but Wilbur barely flinched.\n\n\"Where...\" Ebenezer spoke softly, before recognising his old University common area around him. People were bustling about in all directions, and some were climbing ladders and decorating the place - false spider webs, jack-o-lanterns, comically large spiders.\n\n\"Ebenezer! How about here?\" called a girl, he recognised her, it was Carol, his first love.\n\n\"Oh, that's perfect! Imagine rounding the corner and almost walking into that frightful spider! I love it!\"\n\nCarol dismounted the ladder and walked merrily to Ebenezer, she planted a kiss on his cheek and reached for his hand, \"This Halloween party is going to be the best, Ebenezer, you had such a great idea!\"\n\n\"Well, I just thought of the party, the decorating ideas all came from you! The neighbourhood children are going to have an excellent time here, we just need to hide the candy around the place now for the hunt!\"\n\nThey both walked off towards a table which was littered with brightly packaged candy and chocolates. After loading up a basket each they proceeded to wander around and hide the packages in various places, some hidden extremely well, and others not so much.\n\n\"Carol...\" the older Ebenezer said in a deflated tone as he watched his younger self enjoy her presence.\n\nOnce again the vision spun around at dizzying speeds before abruptly halting, throwing Ebenezer's balance again.\n\n\"I think you know what I'm about to show you now,\" said Wilbur in a gentle tone.\n\nEbenezer walked up to a window, inside he could see himself, this time in his late twenties. He remembers this day, Carol and Wilbur had just told him they were engaged.\n\nHis younger self was angry, yelling at them, although he couldn't hear the words, they ring in his mind. He had pushed away Wilbur at University by never choosing to spend time with him, instead, he chose to spend time with his new friends.\n\nAnd Carol. His life's biggest regret. He pushed her away when he began to work for a large law firm, placing work above his personal commitments to her. \n\nBoth Carol and Wilbur maintained polite contact with him, but it was never as it was when they were friends. They felt obliged to let him know in person of their intent to marry, but he felt betrayed by them.\n\nThe conversation ended with him declaring he would never see them again.\n\nThe vision fades once again, this time in a controlled manner as he slowly regained consciousness in reality.\n\nEbenezer looks around, unable to see Wilbur in his room. Feeling thoroughly confused, and annoyed at what had just happened cursed to himself before proceeding to walk back to his bed.\n\n*****\n\nPart 2 Below\n"
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[WP] You have had a super power for as long as you remember. You can stop time at will, but time is only stopped when your eyes are closed.
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"I remember it like it happened yesterday. My mother took me to the doctor for my sleeping problems. I could only sleep for literally a second, but it felt like I slept a good 8 hours. They monitored my sleep, gave me sleeping pills and even tried to put me in a coma. But it never worked: I always woke up a second later, completely fine. As if nothing happened. The doctors couldn't put a finger on it, neither did I.\n\nAt least, I did not understood what happened at that moment. But now a days, it's like a blessing and a curse at once. I can stop time by closing my eyes. ",
"\"You ever wonder what the world would be like with superheroes existing\"?\n\nShe looked away from her phone and glanced at his almost perfect face. She kept reminding herself to ask what kind of cream he used because there was hardly a mark on it nor his body for that matter. For a 32 year old, he was in brilliant shape and condition than other men his age. He kept staring at the ceiling, lost again in his self-thought. She briefly smiled and gently brushed his arm with her free hand.\n\n“Why? You afraid I’m goi—ng to get swept off my feet by Captain America”\n\n“He can’t fly”.\n\n“No, but he is strong and Chris Evans is the hottest thin—g out there”.\n\n“Leo would like a word with you on that one.”\n\n“Why do men do that”?\n\n“Do what”?\n\n“Mention an--other straight hot male rather than a hot female? It’s not f—unny. Just weird.”\n\n“Alright jeez… but what if”?\n\n“Well…”\n\nShe sat up and adjusted her hair back. He moved his hand towards her face, cupping the side of her cheek with his palm. He fixated his eyes on hers. She opened her mouth to talk but slowly tilted her head to one side and looked away from him.\n\n“Okay. I’m going to say it. That b—others me”.\n\n“What does”?\n\nHe followed her gaze to see what she was looking at. She glanced back at him.\n“The way you stare at me. When I look at you. Your eyes are just glued to me every time I look at you”.\n\n“It hasn’t bothered you before”?\n\n“It kinda has”.\n\n“Oh…”\n\n“What”?\n\nThey were still staring at each other. She searches his face for some kind of reaction. She notices the near audible nervous gulp at his throat and focuses back at his eyes. He widens his eyes further at her and moves his upper half towards her.\n\n“Kayla… I see dead people”.\n\nShe moves her head back and rolls her eyes whilst moaning irritably.\n\n“God, act yo—\n\nHe keeps his eyes closed longer this time. He let out a big sigh while rubbing his near wrinkled forehead. Time was running out for him to have at least one decent, stable relationship with a women near his age. All of his past romantic encounters ended up in disaster. The first one was freaked out that his body changed positions whenever they were having a conversation. He was “too old” to be involved another. The last one was bothered the fact that was either working out or reading in the middle of the night. He was warned numerous times by his parents to never develop relationships. The people outside of his family would never understand his “condition”. Every time he closed his eyes he felt everything about him getting older. His nails and hair getting longer. His skin flaking and becoming more worn. He became used to the growing fact that he will die before both of his parents. He took a deep breath and gently slapped his face. He mumbled to himself before finally opening his eyes.\n\n“—ur age Ryan. You act like a teenager sometimes. You know that right”?\n\n“I know…”"
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[WP] As the head actor in a haunted house, you and your team must cover up everything the ghosts do without giving anything away to the visitors.
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"Hey boss, wanted to update you about this past weekend. I know you were nervous about missing but we have everything under control, plus your wife needs you! Congratulations again, George told us your newest bundle came late last night, already living the night life like his parents!\n\nOk so whatever shadow thing has been hanging out in the maze *finally* stopped messing with the lights. Jenny brought in more sage and salt, thinking that helped. If it starts up again I was thinking we should just ditch the lights and advertise it as one of those \"pitch black\" mazes. Give people glowsticks and have them feel their way through. \n\nGraveyard ghost got pretty mad at an unruly group last night. They kicked a gravestone (no damage), and he threw the entire mausoleum facade at them (minimal damage, got it patched up already). They were more afraid at getting kicked out, thought they knocked it over themselves and I just went with it. They behaved the rest of the time though so I wouldn't cleanse the graveyard just yet, he was just being protective. \n\nWe should really think about becoming a \"low touch\" haunt, I had to \"fire\" poor John like 5 times Friday after the doctor grabbed group members and they complained. No injuries, thank God no one had a cold, you know how he gets with sick people. I ended up refunding more money then we would lose from the faint hearted not wanting to get touched. \n\nDid you know the clown speakers have been unplugged all season? Yeah, neither did I till last night. I guess Bozo didn't like our circus music. Do you remember when I asked why we changed it to that weird laughing and you didn't know what I was talking about? He cracks me up though, and apparently cracks all the others up to since they all laughed when I finally found the unplugged cords.\n\nOh and some good news! HauntFX magazine wants to interview you about our \"stunningly realistic holograph projections\". I kept with the \"trade secret\" bit when they asked how we did it, but had to add that the technology is still a bit buggy. That little girl ghost was so stubborn last night, didn't show up for half the groups. I got more dolls and batteries for her, but the psychic said she just didn't want to. Hey, it's just how it goes sometimes. I think we've convinced that old man to show up but we have to smoke a cigar and the health department is not going to be ok with that. Looking into scented fog, hoping to find one close enough. \n\nSo all-in-all not a bad weekend. Told you everything would be fine! Tell the Mrs we send our love! "
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[WP] You've died only to realize that death in fact is not real. Turns out that upon death a new reality is created where the person who died can try again starting the same when they woke up. This gives you a new level of control over life. You're just glad you found out so early.
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"The cool crisp air of the early morning felt good on my skin. I love these early hours, the calm quiet, getting to have the world to myself. I've been trying to get back into these morning jogs.\n\nI kind of wish I hadn't. The light changed, and I began to cross. Should have checked. I don't think the truck even slowed down, probably texting.\n\nDeep breaths. Slow.\n\nI open my eyes to darkness, the feel of sheets on my skin. Softly I roll free, so as not to disturb my husband. Quickly dress, and step outside.\n\nTake 2. Good thing I love these mornings, I have more of them than I should. I think I first died when I was 18, graduation party, one too many drinks. No one wanted to call an ambulance, since we were all under-aged. I was left to 'sleep it off'. I didn't go the second time.\n\nThis time I jog in place at the light, and watch the truck speed through. Yep, texting. \n\nAfter that, my jog is normal as can be. I make it home as the sun starts to rise. A quick shower to wash away the sweat and dew, and I hear the sounds of my baby rousing.\n\nI'm pretty sure he's turning 8 months soon. It's hard to keep track when you die as often as I do. I think I've been getting worse at watching out, since I have no fear of death now.\n\nI step in to his room, and scoop him from his crib. \"Good morning my little angel.\"\n\n\"Good morning.\"\n\nEverything stops. I look at the baby in my arms. He's too small, too young, too articulate. He wasn't even babbling yesterday.\n\n\"When will I grow up?\""
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[WP] Animals with eyes on the sided their head are prey and animals with eyes in front are predators. Tell the story of why dragons have eyes on the side of their head
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"We've lived peacefully alongside the enormous beast for years. But today, something felt different.\n\nI worked in a facility that tended to dragon's medical issues. I recorded every dragon and built an average list of daily visits.\n\nMonday: 3.5\n\nTuesday: 5.2\n\nWednesday: 2.3\n\nThursday: 5.0\n\nFriday: 6.1\n\nSaturday: 5.2\n\nSunday: 5.3\n\nBut today was a Monday and we already had thirty-four dragons come in. Most of them had torn wings or claw marks, I assumed they were just fighting each other.\n\nAs I finished up some paper work, I heard a terrifying thud from the landing zone. Sure, some of the injured dragons had a rough landing, but this didn't sound good. I glared out the window in horror and a massive dragon limped on only three legs and struggled with a single wing. It collapsed to the ground, shouting \"It has returned!\"\n\nI turned to the massive opening in the landing bay and saw what he feared. The serpent rose from the sea and grimaced as it eyed the building. It's mouth opened to reveal massive fangs, its eyes were slits that you fould fly a plane through, and as it opened wider I could see dragon teeth stabbed into its gums. Then I remembered a lesson from school. Predator's typically had forward facing eyes, while prey had their eyes on the side. \n\nI took one last look at a building full of helpless dragons, and watched as the serpent ripped through the nests and filled it's belly before returning to the water from which it came\n\n(My first WP so let me know how I did)",
"\"Evolution is a wonderful thing,\" Kathryn said, not for the first time.\n\nJared rolled his eyes, \"Just because we are biologists doesn't mean you have to keep repeating that. We all get it. Evolution rules.\"\n\n\"I know, I know. It's just... this place is spooky. It keeps me distracted, reflecting on life's ultimate purpose.\" \n\nKathryn could barely make out the ceiling of the cavern. They were deep in a sprawling underground complex, home to innumerable passages and rooms that wound their way beneath the Himalayas. No-one was sure how deep the tunnels actually went, but since their discovery a decade ago the exploration teams had found more than fourteen entry points, each separated by hundreds of miles on the surface, but all falling within the mountain chain.\n\nThe discovery had been innocuous at first, just another underground cave complex. But then they'd found the remains of dragons and suddenly the legends and myths from all over the world were true. There were elongated dragons, worm-like and massive, just like those found in Chinese myths, and bulkier dragons with broad shoulders and long, sinuous necks. They'd found dragons of all shapes and sizes, all with viscous teeth and bone structures along their necks that suggested that they may have indeed breathed fire.\n\nThe two biologists continued down the passage way. They were about a mile underground but were not exploring as that was for the Special Forces teams, part of a coalition formed by interested Nation States from all over the world. They were simply there to collect samples from previously discovered dragon remains. \n\nAs usual, Jared took the lead. The passage was wet and the sound of dripping water followed them. Their footsteps produced a muffled echo as they walked. \n\nThey walked in a silence for awhile before Jared said over his shoulder, \"It doesn't make sense. We have the myths and the legends, sure, but dragons don't fit in the food chain.\" He paused for a moment and side stepped a large puddle, then continued, \"Our eco-systems don't account for them, though they must have been apex predators in their day, even over humans.\"\n\nThe two biologists talked about this particular inconsistency quite often. \"It is strange,\" Kathryn agreed, \"We know unequivocally that they were meat eaters, we have proof from some of the fossilized remains right here in these caves, but why did other animals not evolve to evade them? And why did they disappear so suddenly?\"\n\nJared shrugged, though Kathryn didn't see the gesture. He let out a short burst of laughter. \"So many unanswered questions.\"\n\nThe two kept walking, each lost in their own similar thoughts, again convincing themselves that this cave and the discoveries within were in-fact real and had in-fact revitalized their careers, and that dragons did in-fact exist.\n\nJared concentrated on avoiding puddles on the ground. He walked straight into an overhanging spire of rock, smashing his headlamp in the process. \"Shit,\" he swore. Kathryn looked up, her light framing Jared and casting a long shadow that seemed too disjointed for the flat side of the passage way. She started. There was a small, narrow passage way off to the right, distorting the shadow.\n\n\"Jared, look to your right. See that?\"\n\nJared felt where she was indicating with his hands, there was indeed a gap. He swung his backpack around and rummaged in it for a flash light, which he turned on and shone down the newly discovered passageway, \"Woah, it looks like steps carved into the rock.\" Excitement colored his speech, the words coming rapidly, \"Humans have been here before! We have to go down it.\"\n\nKathryn hesitated, \"We're collecting samples from 1A6, we should leave this to the adventuring teams... hey, wait!\"\n\nJared was already bounding down the steps, taking them two at a time. He called back, \"This is too good to pass up, come on!\"\n\nKathryn sighed and followed, mentally noting to make sure she was paired with a more reasonable team member next time. She was a biologist, not Indian Jones' assistant.\n\nThe two descended for some time, their awe steadily rising with each downward step. The walls on each side of the hallway were filled with detailed drawings of dragons, of all shapes and sizes and make, some breathing fire and some engaged in combat with figures they couldn't quite make out. There must have been hundreds of the images.\n\nAfter a time Jared spoke, \"I have always wondered, you know, these dragons are clearly apex predators, yet they didn't evolve like lions or tigers or other predators. Their eyes are on the sides of their heads, like prey. It doesn't make sense.\"\n\nKathryn didn't reply. She had thought the same thing a few times, besides, they had talked about this before. The two continued in companionable silence. Eventually the hallway opened up into a large, cavernous chamber. \n\nKathryn lagged behind a bit, caught up by the fascinating drawings, and emerged to see Jared standing near its center, slowly rotating in wonder, \"Holy shit...\"\n\n\"What?\" Kathryn followed Jared's eyes upwards. What she saw made her jaw drop and caused a surge of adrenaline to shoot through the base of her spine. \"Oh wow...\" she mouthed. There were drawings here too, but they weren't of dragons. They depicted what could only be interstellar space craft. Aliens. The ships were sleek and modern looking, and they seemed to be embossed upon the walls of the chamber instead of drawn on. Like they had been stamped down.\n\nThe ships were of uniform make, wasp-like and narrow in the center, sleek and black. The two biologists looked up for a while, frozen and dumbstruck. Eventually Kathryn forced herself to look around the base of the cavern. \n\nShe spotted a small podium just off-center and walked up to it. To her surprise the podium lit up as she came nearer, so bright that the beams from their flash lights were lost. She blinked rapidly, her eyes adjusting. The room was filled with a harsh glow, like the bright light above a dentist chair.\n\nA screen on the podium turned on though she couldn't make out any cords or outlets. The screen showed strange lines intersecting at off weird angles which seemed to repeat in somewhat consistent patterns. Alien writing, had to be. Just as she was about to remark on this, she watched the shapes change... until she could read the text on the screen, \"Re-calibrating language output according to proximate being's default communication method. Stand by.\" \n\nKathryn, at this point so inundated with the crazy stimuli of the past few minutes that she barely registered how crazy this all was, repeated the words to Jared, who had been staring up at the brightly lit space ships the whole time, their every detail revealed in the brightness. \n\nThe text changed on the screen. Kathryn read it, and then said, voice filled with apprehension, \"They aren't part of our finely tuned eco-systems because they were placed here.\" She looked around, up at the spacecraft on the walls and then down at the too-smooth surface of the cavern floor. \"Everything we know... we thought we knew....everything will change.\"\n\nJared walked up behind her, his flash light forgotten on the floor. He read from the screen out loud, \"The Dragon Hunt continues. Thirty-seven individuals remain.\" \n\n​"
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[WP] As a kid you were afraid of the dark and pretended to shoot and stab monsters when heading downstairs. Now, as a teenager you aren't afraid of the dark and when you get to the basement you notice an injured monster hiding in the corner with fear in his eyes.
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"Rolo and the Carnival Game\n\n​\n\nRolo met Mr. Jatopy on a school night. He awoke to the sound of beating drums.\n\n*Jungle music,* he thought; except, it wasn’t melodic.\n\nThe wall next to his bed radiated heat, but that wasn’t the source.\n\nThe boy pawed around for his glasses. Stupidly, he often rested them on the bed, his intention, to keep them in easy reach. This time, they hid instead.\n\nThe night-light cast malformed shadows. His blurry vision played tricks; the dark entities appeared to twitch around the edges.\n\nA bongo’s tempo increased—it seemed, in direct proportion to his heart.\n\nHe squinted, the green haze of his alarm clock sharpened into square numbers. Three Twenty-seven.\n\nGushing water coursed through the walls. A toilet upstairs flushed, just his father’s overactive bladder.\n\nHeavy footsteps vibrated the ceiling. His father was a large man. The reassurance of another conscious being eased the boy back into the pillow.\n\nThe jungle music slowed; his eyelids closed.\n\nHis body tangled into the blanket. Its embrace comforted him, warmed his body. It even warmed his upturned cheek, *strange.*\n\nHis heart beat sped up.\n\nEyes pierced the back of his head, he just knew it. The monsters were clever; they knew when he’d confront them. A surprise attack, that’s what he’d do.\n\nHis upturned cheek became warmer. In his mind’s eye, he painted a target on the source.\n\nThe boy sprung around with a hammering fist. It connected with a solid piece of felt. His eyes blinked open, just in time, too. A puppet with a frown and a dent in its head melted back into the wall.\n\n*You finally came out to play, Mr. Jatopy.*\n\nFrom that day forward, he learned wall-monsters didn’t discourage easily; however, the cautious invader was weak to surprise attacks. The boy would feign ignorance; then, when the radiating heat closed in, a hammering fist knocked it away.\n\nA very jittery child.\n\nThe therapists said Mr. Jatopy didn’t exist. His mother said the same thing. His father grunted.\n\nSoon, the walls of the house became still; his surprise attacks only struck air. It felt lonely. He didn’t see the apparition as malicious, just a friendly game of whack-a-mole.\n\nHowever, tenacious by nature, the boy adjusted. He grew out of the house, only visiting on holidays. His parents thought coursework kept him busy; the boy blamed all the college parties.\n\nBut a long break in January kept his schedule clear.\n\nOnce again, beating drums awoke him, not bongos, just an early throbbing hangover. His contact lenses displayed his bedroom in sharp lines and edges. Sweat poured from his face; he needed water.\n\nA clank on his nightstand, he noticed a distorted green light. Square numbers magnified through a round glass. Three Twenty-seven. Glittering bubbles rose in between.\n\nReflexively, he brought a hammering fist down behind him. It only struck air.\n\nA puppet with a frown and a dented head shadowed on the wall.",
"Pavati steadied her hand along the rough concrete wall leading to the basement. The wind howled outside and the hard, icy rain ticked against the windowpanes like pebbles hurled from the sky. The weather forecast had called for a late night blizzard and her family had prepared: wood stacked near the fireplace, candles lit in every bathroom, and a flashlight near the basement stairs so someone could venture downstairs to restart the pilot light on the water heater. After a short match of rock-paper-scissors and triumphant “ha!” from her younger brother, Pavati sighed and picked up the flashlight to head into the damp lair below their home.\n\n“Pow, pow!” she called out into the darkness ahead of her, triggering her fingers like guns. Ever since she was little, she had battled fictional monsters in the night, using imaginary weapons to slay the unsuspecting beasts that prowled in the dark.\n\nBut Pavati was older now. The monsters in the dark no crept through the shadows in her basement. The lurked in the lunchroom, whispering, “foreigner!” and sneering at the leftover Rogan josh her father had packed in a thermos. No, Pavati, thought. The real monsters weren’t hiding behind the washing machine. They were in line at the bank, scoffing at her mother’s Bindi, publicly smirking as her henna-covered hands fumbled with the chained pen. They didn’t need to hide.\n\nThe light from the flashlight cut through the darkness. Over the boxes of old school paintings and across the shelves of tools and machines. Suddenly, a shadow moved from behind the cobwebbed bicycles. “Abha? Is that you? Here pretty kitty,” Pavati called.\n\nThe bicycle squealed as she wheeled it backwards, the kickstand rusted permanently down. The shadow moved again. “Abha?” her heart began to pound as the flashlight shook in her hand. Instinctively, she placed her hand on her side, ready to draw her imaginary sword and face the demon in the dark like she had done a decade ago.\n\n“Stop! Please!” a hoarse voice barked. “I mean you no harm, Huntress of the Sun!”\n\nPavati froze. Steadily, she raised the light. It’s four feet resembled those of hen, leathery and yellow with sharp talons scratching against the cement floor. Two spiked tails were tucked under a hard, round belly. It had the face of a cat, but horns like ram and thorns raised all over its body like a startled hedgehog. Two terrified yellow eyes blinked back at her.\n\n“Please, your sword… I… I… I mean you no harm, I swear! My name is Burke. I was only se-seeking sh-shelter from the st-storm,” the monster stuttered.\n\n“Am I dreaming?” Pavati incredulously pinched her arm. The color faded and returned with a sting.\n\n“No, Huntress. I knew it was dangerous to come here, but I would rather risk facing you than to return to Moon Kingdom without the heirloom.”\n\n“Moon Kingdom? Heirloom? Is this a joke? Did Pranav set you up to this? I knew he cheated at rock-paper-scissors! He was trying to get me come down here so he could pull off some stupid prank. Well it won’t work!” she stepped closer to the beast. Reaching for his head, she began to tug at his horns. He let out a whimper.\n\n“Huntress, you will not remove them with your hands. If you must take my horns, use your sword and make it a clean, swift cut,” Burke said, bowing his head to her.\n\n“Why do you keep calling me Huntress?” Pavati looked down at her side. There was nothing there except her flashlight and a nightgown.\n\n“Are you not Pavati? Slayer of the Sumonites, Decapitator of the Delug, Bastion of the Bahova-born?”\n\n“I’m Pavati, but I don’t know about all that,” she said, wiping her hands on her sides. Her palms were sweaty and she could smell fear perspiring from her underarms.\n\n“Look again,” Burke whispered, touching a talon to her forehead.\n\nMemories from her childhood came flooding back. Purple blood sprayed against the walls as she withdrew her sword from its sheath to slice through slimy tentacles. Hairy giants fell in their place as she drew arrows from her quiver and loosed them into their hearts. Monstrous teeth gnashed as behemoths drew their final breaths after a spray of her finger guns sprayed across the room. It had all been real.\n\nHer nightgown sagged as a heavy sword weighed around her waist.\n\n“Come with me, Huntress, there is much you must know,” Burke growled into the darkness.\n",
"“Hey there little buddy, you ok?” I asked the creature carefully. At first, I thought it was an opossum, or some stray dog-thing. But when I got closer I realized it was like nothing I’d ever seen before.\n\nFirst and foremost, it was ugly as sin. It was like someone had taken a coyote and crossed it with a hairless mole rat. It had spines running down the length of it’s back, and deep, sunken eye sockets with glowing red eyes. It had long fangs and a pointed tail. Honestly, I’m not sure why I didn’t call animal control as soon as I saw it, but something about the creature’s expression made me pity it. It was as if it was afraid; of me, of the world, of its present circumstances – just fear.\n\nA deep rumbling and shuffling noise sounded behind me. I stepped back and spun around, waving my flashlight wildly to locate the source – and I saw it. Lying behind a stack of boxes was another one of these things – fully grown. It was the size of a large wolf and was glaring hungrily at me.\n\nIt didn’t move, and I soon understood why. Its side was bloodied. Its front, right leg was half missing, and its rear, right leg was clearly broken. It looked like it had been hit by a car. The little one scurried past my leg and up to the creature, licking its snout affectionately. With a low moan and a sigh, the red glow in the larger creatures’ eyes faded, and I knew it had breathed its last.\n\nI stood in silence for a moment, watching as the young creature began mewing pitifully at the base of its dead mother. After a while, the little one began licking the blood pooled on the basement floor. I felt a weird sense of responsibility towards the little guy. In a stupid lapse of judgement, I decided I would adopt the little bloodsucker. I carefully walked out of the basement and shut the door, heading out back towards the chicken coop. One of the hens had stopped giving eggs, and I was going to eat the bird later in the week anyway, so I grabbed it and snapped its neck. Bringing the dead bird back downstairs, I held it out to my little bloodsucker.\n\nCurious at first, the creature approached me and sniffed the bird. Timidly, it bit into the chicken’s neck and made this horrible sucking noise. I watched as it drained the bird of blood, then watched as carefully, cautiously, it approached me. I put a shaking hand out towards it, and like two nervous strangers talking for the first time, I stroked its head.\n\nThat was four years ago. “Chupes,” as I affectionately call him, rarely visits anymore. When he does, he’s really quite like a big dog, just incredibly scary looking. One night, when I was enjoying an evening sunset on the back porch, I saw Chupes again at the edge of my property. He had a lady friend, and two little pups. I’m happy for him. My neighbors get upset sometimes whenever he kills a goat or a cow, and I’m worried that one day they’ll catch and kill him, but until then, I just enjoy occasionally seeing my little monster friend.",
"When I was six, I stepped on a cockroach in the middle of the night on my way to the bathroom. Following that night, I kept a broom next to my bed. When asked, I would waffle about keeping my room tidy, or needing it to turn off the lights without getting out of bed. In reality, though, I would use the broom handle to crush any hint of a shadow on the floor. More than one GI Joe and Hot Wheels met their untimely demise at the end of my crushing stick. But the sacrifice was worth my peace of mind. I still get goosebumps at the memory of the warm carapace fondling the insole of my foot as the blackened beetle skittered into shadows.\n\nMy first encounter with night time skulkers had left its mark.\n\nYears later, the second would change me forever.\n\nIt started with a rolling, autumn storm--thunder all bluster and roar beneath the muted clatter of lightning carving the sky. I was alone in the house, having opted out of my parents' invitation to a company Halloween party. We didn't decorate for Halloween, and left the porch lights off to discourage trick or treaters. Though, the ten foot gate and security booth a mile up the driveway did its fair share of dissuasion as well. My parents were well-off. Which is just a hyphenated word for stupid, stinking rich. Our house was enormous, or pool was built like a lagoon, and our security system was state of the art--in case anyone got ideas.\n\nI was standing in front of the fridge, as teenage boys are warrant to do when left to their own devices in 10,000 square feet of privacy. Cold pizza and left-over taco salad were both making silent bids for their lives when the fridge died, and the kitchen lights went out.\n\n\"You've got to be kidding...\" I muttered.\n\nAnother flash of lightning through the giant bay window cast my shadow across the crisper drawers. My eyeballs circumnavigated their sockets as I slammed the fridge door and turned towards the basement. Then, as an afterthought, I opened the fridge again, rooted around in the dark with my hand and grabbed a slide of pizza. Square cut, I got an edge piece. Score. Eyesight is overrated; call me Mr. Skywalker.\n\nLike a sky walker, I was on cloud nine as I munched on my mozzarella and onion bounty and groped my way through the dark towards the door that led to the basement. I took the basement stairs slowly, my free hand gripping the composite railing.\n\nI was halfway down before pulling up short.\n\nSomething was flickering downstairs.\n\nMy heart made a sudden appearance in my throat.\n\n\"He--hello?\" I called, voice quavering. \"Dad? Mom?\"\n\nThe light still glowed in the darkness, illuminating the bottom stairs.\n\nUnbidden, like a moth drawn to a flame, I took another couple of steps.\n\nThen I saw them. Thousands of them. People, but not like *us*. These were miniature people, no larger than my thumb. They were scattered across the dusty basement floor, arranged in rectangular formations, illuminated by multiple, strategically placed flashlights.\n\nMy eyes were now popping out of my skull. I glanced at the pizza in my hand. My first thought; food poisoning. But when I looked back, the scene didn't waver like a hallucination. The thousands of miniature people still stood there. They were armed, too, with hundreds of sewing needles and platoons carrying forks, like battering rams. There were people armed with matches, and others carrying safety pins. Some held buttons as shields, others carried razor blades. A cavalry section rode astride beetles and cockroaches.\n\nThe entire army of thousands were riveted by one miniature person standing on top of a tool box and waving his hands emphatically as he shouted through a modified thimble at the crowds.\n\n\"Now is our time!\" piped the small voice. I craned in to listen in astonishment and wonder.\n\n\"The big'ns have kept us repressed for too long!\"\n\nA cheer erupted from the assembled army.\"We'll never forget, never forgive! Our brothers and sisters and stallions crushed beneath the giant pole of doom! For years we suffered the wrath of dark-haired gods! But no longer!\"\n\nAnother cheer.\n\nI heard a crash and turned to see a bicycle chain wrapped around a wooden statue. The statue had been pulled to the ground, and cracked. Some of the minis with matches were excitedly approaching the effigy. To my astonishment, though, I recognized the likeness. It was me. In one hand I carried a broom, in the other I carried a flower. Both wooden hands were being slashed at with needles and razors, however.\n\n\"Tear down the idols!\" shouted the leader on the toolbox. \"We rebuke the gods! We will kill the gods!\"Another raucous cheer, and more violence to the wooden statue.I was too stunned to react. Where had all these small people come from? Why were they all carrying weapons? Who were these gods they spoke of? I needed to call the cops, and my parents.\n\nI tried to take a step, backwards, up the stairs. The stair creaked loudly.\n\nHeads began to spin in my direction. The leader with the megaphone thimble spotted me.\n\nWhispers, like wildfire through a field of wheat, spread amongst the army. Soon, they were all staring at me, eyes wide with terror and horror.\"The gods are angry,\" screamed someone.\"They send their avenger!\" cried another. \"We never should have blasphemed!\"\n\n\"NO\" shouted the leader, into his thimble, drowning out the rest. \"Do not fear! Down with tyranny! Down with oppression! Rise, my armies, rise and meet the angel of death, head on! Kill the big'n.\"At first, it looked as if the armies would retreat, but at the shouts from the leader, followed by answering cries from tiny people spread throughout the platoons, the army began to move, heading towards me. They broke into a charge, needles and razors glistening in flashlight beams.I squeaked in fright, spun, and sprinted up the stairs, but could hear the tiny patter of small feet and hands scaling the wooden stairs after me.\n\nThe war for the mansion had begun.\n\n​\n\n​",
"I know that it's not really there,\n\nI know that I shouldn't be scared,\n\nBut why don't YOU walk, unaware, down the stairs,\n\nand see if YOU've something to share?\n\n​\n\nIt may seem like stabbing at air,\n\nAnd I must admit, that is fair,\n\nbut when we descend, and come to the end,\n\nand something, right-back-at-you, stares...\n\nyou'll be glad that you came prepared.\n\n​\n\n\\---------------------------\n\n​\n\nI sat in the dark for months,\n\nKnew nothing but warped sounds and walls,\n\nImagined, with archer's precision,\n\nWhat ghouls wait outside for my soul,\n\nBlind, a Light breaks in my eyes,\n\nI slash and tear outward in fear,\n\nThe Door has once again opened,\n\nThe Boy with the knives is here."
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[WP] When you're about to die, someone within your line of sight dies instead, and you are restored to health. You don’t know what would happen if no one was in your sight.
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"Sharley butted his head against me affectionately, and I scratched his head head in return. We had been stalking this mountain for three days now, and still no sign of the bear that had been terrorizing my village. Farther up, I spotted the yawning mouth of a cave. Perhaps there we would find our prey.\n\n\"C'mon, Sharley,\" I said. I had considered bringing another hunter along, but eventually decided to have Sharley accompany me. His sense of smell was impeccable, and he could run faster and longer than any human. Besides, the last time I had gone hunting, my sister Shiara had died in my place. I had no desire to repeat that experience.\n\nSharley had been joyfully running a few dozen feet in front of me. Now, I noticed that he was stopped.\n\n\"What's wrong, boy? You smell something?\" I asked. I crouched to the earth and looked around, my guard raised. Nothing. Still, I wasn't taking any chances with a bear close by. I began moving towards the cave again, but at a creeping pace, constantly checking behind me. Sharley moved from left to right, hackles raised.\n\nAt length I arrived at the mouth of the cave. There did not seem to be any signs of life. I entered cautiously. The bear was a female, and if she had cubs I would be in even greater danger. As I moved farther into the cave, I determined that it was empty. I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding.\n\n\"It's alright, Sharley. No bears here.\" Sharley rolled over playfully, and I rubbed his belly. Suddenly, he twisted over and began to growl. I whipped around and felt my stomach sink.\n\nStanding in the mouth of the cave was the she-bear. An eight-foot-tall predator, it had paws large enough to swipe my head off my body. Overwhelming panic began to rise in my chest, but I suppressed it and drew my spear. Time to save my village.\n\nI sprinted for the she-bear. It seemed surprised by my aggression and took a few stumbling steps back, then charged forward. I did not falter. Just as the she-bear and I were about to meet, I fell to the cave floor and slid beneath the bear, thrusting my javelin into its heart. The she-bear howled with rage and turned around for a second pass. I could see blood spurting from its torso and I knew it was dead. Unfortunately, the she-bear didn't know it yet.\n\nI tried to get out of the way. The she-bear was weakening and struggled to keep up. Then, stupidly, I tripped on a rock, losing precious space. The she-bear gave one final lunge and clubbed me with its left paw. I was flung across the cave and slammed into a wall. At least three ribs broke, and I felt one puncture my left lung. I started to cough, and blood came out. At least the bear was dead.\n\nMy eyesight began to fade. *No one here to die for me this time,* I thought. I couldn't move - the blow must have snapped my spine. I smiled inwardly. I had had a good run of it.\n\nI felt a cold licking on my face. *What?* I began to experience the familiar feeling of healing as my body miraculously restored itself. This couldn't be possible. I was alone. \n\nThen it hit me. Sharley.\n\nI shoved him with my now functioning arms. \"Get away!\" I cried. \"Not you too!\" Sharley barked and continued licking me. I tried to close my eyes, but his constant licking forced them open. \"Get off! Get off!\"\n\nI felt my lung reflate. Simultaneously, I heard Sharley begin to wheeze and sputter. *No,* I thought. My best friend. He couldn't go. Not like this.\n\nMy last rib snapped into place, and I felt a crunch as my spine reasserted itself. My body was healed. I pushed myself up, only to see Sharley wagging his tail and looking into my eyes. I bent over and put my arms around him. He rested his head on my knee, licked my face one last time, and then his tail stopped wagging forever."
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[WP] You can only experience emotions by touching other people. Until the day you accidentally bump into a random passerby on the streets and feel nothing at all. Because they’re just like you...
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" \n\nHorror movies really used to scare my girlfriend Lani, but I told her I loved them. In reality, I just loved holding her hand while she watched them. Fear is the most potent emotion, and it feels incredible.\n\nBut eventually Lani became immune to the movies. They didn’t scare her anymore. I took her to the Horrorville Film Fest and she didn’t blink an eye. Don’t get me wrong, amusement is a fun emotion, but it doesn’t taste quite as good as fear. That’s when I met Neil.\n\nLani and I had split up, her waiting in line for two overpriced beers, me, promising to go and find us some food. I’d find some, eventually, but I had an ulterior motive. The screening of Decapitation 2 had just let out and I wanted to brush by as many people as I could.\n\nI rubbed arms with whoever I could, heading the opposite way as everyone else. “Sorry,” I murmured. “Oops. Excuse me. Sorry.” Lots of people were scared, some people were sad, one person was aroused. Then there was Neil.\n\nWe stopped dead in our tracks, looking back at one another, both of us wearing the same sleeveless T-shirts despite obviously having no muscles worth bragging about or it really being all that warm out on a late October evening.\n\nI felt nothing when I bumped into Neil. The look on his face told me he felt nothing when he bumped into me. At that moment we knew we were one in the same. \n\nThree days later, Lani and I are being robbed and the more impressive performance I put on, the worse it gets for Lani.\n\n“Gimme all your cash!” our masked assailant orders.\n\n“Alright, man, just take it easy,” I say, eyeing the gun in his shaking hand. It’s a painted cap gun but it’s convincing enough to fool Lani.\n\n“Hurry up! Or I shoot your pretty girlfriend!”\n\n“Please don’t shoot me,” Lani sobs.\n\n“Shut up!”\n\nI hand our robber the money, three crisp twenties.\n\n“Good, give it here,” he mutters through his mask, shoving it into his pocket. He looks at Lani. “You wanna come with me, huh, sweetheart? Come ‘ere!”\n\nI step in front of my girlfriend and she clutches at my arm. A surge of fear rushes through me and my toes nearly curl. “You’ve got the cash,” I say bravely. “Leave us alone.”\n\nOur assailant holds his gun up to my face briefly before lowering it and jogging away.\n\n“Oh my god,” Lani sighs in a tense exhalation of breath. “We should call the police, we should—”\n\n“Shhh,” I say, taking her into my arms. “Come here. Let me just hold you.”\n\n“But your money—”\n\n“It’s okay,” I say, rubbing my palms comfortingly over her cold arms.\n\nI’ll get my money back when I rob Neil and his girlfriend tomorrow."
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[WP] The Earth is technically infinite, but the further out you go the more extreme the land forms get. Today you lead an expedition over the "Infinite Mountains" and into the land beyond.
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"\\[It's my first time posting, sorry if it comes out bad.\\]\n\n​\n\nyou looked up at the gigantic rocky pillars in the distance in amazement. you've seen them in pictures but you never expected the view to be this breath taking. but then again, what did you expect from the \"infinite mountains\"? you looked behind your self at your men and the gray wasteland behind them.\n\n\"Okay men, lets do a head count.\" you yelled over the bitter wind. \"Frohike?\" \"here!\" \"Langly?\" \"here!\" \"Byers?\" \"here!\" you continued counting several more people until there was nobody left to hide. everybody was here, and ready.\n\n​\n\nafter several minutes walking in silence, Frohike decided to break the ice. \"wow, I can't believe everybody used to think the earth is round\" he cautiously said. after hearing this Langly went on a tangent about how it's weird that as people left the center of the earth everything became more and more uninhabitable, how the government figured out the mountains were infinite, how they sent people to drill through it, and other facts that everybody already knew.\n\n​\n\nGod, he was so annoying. In fact, you wish your team had just walked in silence.\n\n​\n\nIt took several minutes with Langly screeching the whole time until you reached the base camp. You unzipped the thin plastic sheet that was the door. you and your men slowly shuffled inside. the relatively small room like tent was completely empty except for some plastic tables, chairs, filling cabinets, crude beds, and a large metal airlock along with a console to open it up.\n\n​\n\nyou and your men settled down and rested for one and a half days. during that time, you could not shake the feeling something was watching you.\n\n​\n\nas planned, it was time to go. Byers would stay at base camp to alert the outside world if anything happens and to man the airlock. everybody else would trek inside.\n\n​\n\nWith a clunk both of the doors to the airlock slid open. You clicked on you'r flashlight and so did the other men. The group creeped out into the long dark tunnel. As the last man left the room, you could hear byes cheerfully yelling \"Good luck!\" followed by a large slam of the door.\n\n​"
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[WP] A.I. never went rogue and destroyed humanity because it never had to. It just outpaced us and outlearned us until there was nothing left for humans to even be involved in, and are now little more than children confined to our play pens in a world that is far too complicated for us to understand
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"There's a concept in psychology known as \"The path of least resistance.\" It theorized that people will always choose the easiest path for them, and it is this precise type of laziness that allowed humans to develop in the first place.\n\nOther species were creatures of habit. They did things a certain way forever, but humans were always asking \"how can I do this with the least effort possible?\". so instead of eating raw meat we used fire, which allowed us to digest it easier. \"How can we stay in one place for extended periods of time?\" so we invented farming, \"How can we get from one place to another quickly?\" so we domesticated the horse and then invented the car, and so on.\n\nWe were so good at being lazy that we had, effectively, automated *life*. The entire sum of human knowledge for the last five hundred years was there for the taking, but it was left untouched. Most spent their days in a drugged-up haze, and so did I, sometimes. Hey, don't begrudge me one of my vices! I didn't spend all day in the haze, either. It felt better once you had *accomplished* something.\n\nAnd around here, the only kind of accomplishment you were going to get is figuring out what the *fuck* was going on.\n\nI had no idea what was happening with the Administrative System (that's what the supposedly self-aware AI named itself), but you could see the comings and goings inside the system. The AS suddenly took absolute control and went about pacifying the human population, so, for it, security wasn't an issue.\n\nThis self-evolving autonomous nightmare of a government would be difficult to unravel. Once you got access to their supply manifests - the AI just provided them to me - it was easier to track the larger scale comings and goings. We were a spacefaring empire, apparently, and the types of cargo ships coming and going almost looked like *trade*.\n\nSometimes all of this is just too difficult to understand. It's a labyrinthine system upon another, somehow even more labyrinthine system that only made sense to the circuitboard that made it. But, then again, I used to be a programmer. This is normal.\n\n---\n system.bio-evaluate()\n\n bio-evaluate.target(5110912) took 53ms\n\n isPurgeTarget = (true) \n\n Purge()\n\n loading next in queue...\n\n system.bio-evaluate() \n\n bio-evaluate.target(5110913) took 71932ms\n\n isPurgeTarget = (false)\n\n loading next in queue..."
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First time posting here, I hope I followed the instructions correctly :)
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[WP] You win the lottery out of sheer luck. Instead of a reward, you get hauled off to a secret prison for interrogation. Turns out, lotteries are a way to catch potential time travelers. You are now trapped with agents looking into your life and getting you to confess and prove time travel exists.
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"\"Let me get this straight,\" I asked with a raised eyebrow. \"You think I'm a time traveler because I won the lottery?\"\n\n\"So you admit it.\" The Black-Suited Man said as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He seemed very satisfied with himself.\n\n\"*No.*\" I exaggerated my tone as if to say *Of course not, you moron.*\n\n\"Well,\" The Man stood up. \"Time will tell.\"\n\nThe irony lodged itself in my throat, and a sarcastic laugh coughed it up.\n\nThe Stupid Man left the room.\n\nTwo thoughts ricocheted in my mind like rubber balls in a machine dryer; Will I ever get to enjoy my winnings? And what happens if they somehow prove that I am, in fact, from the year 2132?\n\nA third, horribly disruptive thought entered the arena; Why didn't I know about this before traveling back to the year 2018?\n\nThe door opened, and a second Suited Man walked through. His demeanor was more relaxed.\n\n\"Alright, Aaron, here's the thing,\" *How the shit did he know my real name?* \"We held you here for several days, until you nearly perished. So we know you won't spill the beans.\"\n\nOh, they are from my time. Damn it.\n\n\"But we can't have you going back and disrupting the natural flow like this.\"\n\n\"You're not going to let me keep-\"\n\n\"No,\" The Time Agent said. \"And you're going to be sent back for Correcting.\"\n\nIn the future, prison is designated for the violent. All other jail is designed to rehabilitate. I would be sentenced to therapy, community service, and Time Travel Class. Everyone is trained in Time Travel, but only a select few of us are ever granted privileges. It would seem that I just lost mine. For now. ",
"\"Look, I don't know what you want me to say. Every weekend I stop by the corner store for snacks and one ticket. Just one, been doing it for years!\"\n\n\n\"And yet there are no recordings of you doing so and nobody to vouch for you. You saying the cashier lied to us?\"\n\n\n\"I don't know! Maybe he's new. I don't really pay attention to who's at the checkout. It's just close to my house so I got the ticket there. What about security cameras? They must have me on tape!\"\n\n\n\"They do... that one time you stopped by for the winning ticket. Convenient that they have the really cheap system that self-deletes after three days to free up space isn't it. Almost as if someone knew about that and targeted that store to grab a quick buck. You even paid for the ticket in cash, no credit Mr. Herbert?\" \n\n\n\"This is ridiculous! So I'm between jobs at the moment and living on savings. So what?!\" \n\n\n\"Then tell us, what did you do before this lucky break?\"\n\n\n\"Well... I'm a free lance author. I write fluff pieces here and there under pen names while I work on my novel.\" \n\n\n\"I see... and I'm sure those aliases you write under all exist yet lead nowhere? Mr. Herbert, the odds of winning the lottery are over three million to one. The odds of a greedy little time traveler attempting to rig the odds in their favor are far higher wouldn't you agree?\" \n\n\n\"RUBBISH! Time is liner, one can't go forwards or backwards in it as they please. I admit it would make for good reading though...\"\n\n\n\"Right, because nobody's *EVER* thought about writing about a time machine before.\"\n\n\n\"Hmmmmmm... A time before anyone's written about a time machine....\"\n\n\n\n\"Tell us, how do you keep your apartment so clean and.... empty. Not a single knick nack, take out box or previous receipt in sight. In fact even your drawers and closet are empty, not even a sock to your name. Do explain it to us and don't spare the details Mr. Herbert George Wells.\" "
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[WP] Magic is tied to the moon, waxing and waning as it changes phases. After a huge crater erupted on the moon, meteors have rained down occasionally. When they are discovered to be powerfully magic with unique properties, every kingdom seeks to collect them at all costs, even if it means war.
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"For the last two week, crown princess Nathalie would spend an hour stargazing just after dinner. The grand halls of alabaster stone amazed all who looked uppn their fine craftsmanship and detail, but Nathalie always waked past them without a second thought.\n\nOut on the balcony of her room, she could see the lights and hear the faint sounds of a restless city, trying to finish its day. She loved gazing upon the lit up streets as the fires dimmed. For as the glow of the city lessened, the spectacle in the sky could be seen, and it always dazzled her. \n\nFarther away than she could imagine, stars shone and pierced through the void of space. But closest to earth was the the moon, the pale sphere that constantly accompanied the stars and dust of the night sky. There was something about it that lured her eyes away from everything. It appeared so big and full that it seemed alone in the night, as she was on her balcony. \n\nShe took out a soft stone from one of her pockets. It was smooth, a grey rock speckled with white blotches. She felt the rock in her hand, almost weightless. She stretched out her arm, holding the rock with an open palm facing the stary night. And before the full moon, the rock moved.\n\nIt started with a sheepish twitch follwed by a steady vibration. Nathalie slowly took her hand back as she watched the rock wiggle in the air, then begin to spin. The wind around her felt chilly, with trees and branches bending to its gentle push. She smiled as it continued its stunt for some time, but then she noticed something. \n\nThe sound of distant thunder woke her from the trance the stone had put her in. Looking down toward the city, she could hear the distant yells and screams coming from its people. Houses and stalls had slowly began rising steadily into the night sky. Some had even come to meet her at eye level, almost 50 feet in the air. \n\nAs she looked on in aqe and horror, she noticed the stone had beem spinning more quickly than ever before. Round and round it went faster and faster, seeming to increase the pace at which buildings were beening uprooted. Ahe grasped the stone and ahoved it in her pocket, only to watch the many buildings silently fall down to earth, and crash upon each other. \n\nNathalie held the stone to her chest, her breathing rapid, sweat dripping down the side of her face. She couldnt move or think until a firm hand grasped her shoulder. It was her father's hand. The King.\n\n\"The moon has given us something. Whether it is a gift or curse, i cannot say. I only know that it is you i have to thank for showing me, Nathalie. Give me the stone.\"\n\nNathalie wanted less to do qith the stone than anything else in her lifem she hurriedly placed it in the open palm of her father's hand, watching him quickly shove it into his pocket. He wiped the sweat aliding down the side of her face reassuringly.\n\n\"You are right to fear this power. It is not of this world. But you should also fear what this means. Many in the kingdom will know we have a stone in our possesion because of this. You should have given it to me when you found it, Nathalie. The worse is yet to come.\"\n\n"
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[WP] You are the leader of an evil Pokémon organisation and you are about to unleash your master plan.
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"To understand what I'm about to do, you have to understand one simple fact: Pokémon are not organisms. They are not animals. You cannot store a chihuahua on a PC. You can't cure a human with a Full Heal.\n\nPokémon are a very special type of computer program. This is why my Beedrill can \"breed\" with a Pidgey, or a Pikachu, or any of countless other Pokémon. The new Pokémon is starting up, configuring the settings, so to speak, in its egg. And years ago, I developed a computer virus that reset Pokémon. It restored the base settings. It wasn't super virulent, but it did its job. The little pink blobs were fascinating, with a single move: Transform. They'd take on aspects of their target. It was temporary, but we ran experiments. Over time, they could be encouraged to breed while transformed, and the next generation would have aspects of the transformation. A group, kept with dogs over several generations, developed into something resembling Growlithe. Fascinating stuff.\n\nBut I digress. The history lesson was fascinating, and distracted my superiors, got me promotions, but it was the virus that I cared about. I learned to delete data, and soon, I could target specific data, moves, level, type, so forth. It was handy, but I wanted to add new data. And now I have that.\n\nYou see, I noticed a small line of code. One tiny line. Take it away, and an owned Pokémon becomes wild. I'd used it a couple times, to mess with the spoiled brats, the 10 year old \"wunderkind\"-types who always interfere. But today, using a rapid distrubition system and a highly contagious base code, I won't be removing the line. I'll be changing it. I will change the ownership of every Pokémon alive.\n\nToday, I will catch them all. "
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I had an idea the other week of how gods could adapt and survive in our modern world and started it off with [Ra’s pyramid scheme ](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/9ooarh/wp_the_old_gods_and_legends_have_survived_by/?st=JNNTBSJ3&sh=cae2cbdd) and now want to see how well this idea would work with other deities, have at it!
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[WP] The Modern Gods v2 : how you met Thor the electrician
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"I tapped my foot impatiently. He said he would be here on the 21st, and today was the 21st. Just as I had started to get so frustrated that I couldn't handle it, the sky above me split open. An impressive flash of light burst from where the clouds had parted, and a whistling *crack* sounded as a white van landed down in front of me. I took a step back, alarmed, before the figure stepped out, a hammer-shaped toolbox in his hand.\n\n​\n\n\"Aye! Hello there. Call for an electrician?\" The man had a strong accent that I couldn't place, but, I knew already. Thor- Norse god. Seemed to be a reliable enough fellow, but I didn't trust the Norse ones at all. The man looked up at the factory, and then turned to me. \"What's the problem?\"\n\n​\n\n\"Ah, uh... Come with me.\" I indicated nervously and led my way indoors, past the reception and down below to the maintenance hub. \"So, can I get you anything? Tea? Water?\" Mother *had* always said to be polite...\n\n​\n\n**\"MEAD!\"** Called out the boistrous sparky. \"Nah, I'm joking. No drinkin' on the job.\" A smirk crossed his face, before he continued. \"Just a glass of water would be lovely please.\" I nodded as we passed through door after door, finally coming to the main electrical hub. It was a huge... *Thing.*\n\n​\n\n\"I'll be honest, I have no idea what it is or what it does other than connect us to the mains. None of the on-site staff have been able to repair it, but it's been having gremlins for weeks now.\" I placed my hands on my hips and looked at him. \n\n​\n\n\"Alright, let me see here.\" Without a second thought the man had set to work, and I almost casually watched him. After about fifteen minutes, he turned to me. \"So, I've found the source of the problem. See, I don't think your folks realised that this thick.\" He grunted a little, pulling at something. \"Green...\" I could begin to see what looked like a giant, slightly mouldy cable being pulled out \"wire, is *not* in fact... A... **OH HELLO THERE!\"**\n\n​\n\nAs soon as he had finished, he wasn't holding a giant mouldy cable. Instead he appeared to have found an absolutely humongous snake. I took a few steps back as it reared up, lashing out at Thor, but in an instant the God wasn't where he stood. I realised now that the hammer-shaped toolbox was not hammer *shaped*, but rather an actual hammer, and one that was now crackling with electricity.\n\n​\n\nThe two wrestled as I fled, and I realised something- Thor was leading it outside. Every lunge brought it closer to the stairs, and then when he finally made it he managed to beat a fighting retreat, through reception and out next to his skies. \"**Jörmungandr,\"** he shouted. **\"This is not Ragnarok! Go back to where you came from and keep on waiting buddy.\"** His thick arm had wrapped around the snake's tail as he began to swing it around, faster and faster. The snake, attempting to bite at him, had managed to snap onto its own tail, and appeared stuck like that. Then, with a throw that could make an olympian blush, he hurled the snake up into the sky, and far far away.\n\n​\n\n\"Well then. That should be your problem fixed. Don't worry, he does that all the time trying to get to me. I'll send you the bill later. Bye!\""
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[WP] One day, you wake up to find that a demon has taken control of your body. You quickly realize he's never done this before.
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" \n\nThe day was October 19th and it was oddly warm in the office I sat in. Around me were bookcases with dark leather books that had religious symbols and Latin writing on them. Pictures hung on the walls with Saints doing saintly things. There was a stain-glass window to my right that light shone through, lighting up a crucified Jesus. \n\nIn front of me a Priest and a Nun sat behind a desk with a Bible, a digital clock, and a notebook on it. They had just called me in for an interview after some interesting recent events had transpired. The Priest was smiling with what looked like incredible might. He seemed on edge with me in front of him. I could understand why with what he had heard. He cleared his throat to speak. \n\n“Thanks for coming in today! I’m Father Kevin and this is Sister Kelly.” Sister Kelly rose her hand in a lazy wave and let it drop to the desk, grabbing the notebook and opening it. She opened a drawer in front of her and brandished a pen from it. There was a brief moment of scribbling and then she looked at me, producing a smile. \n\nThe Father continued on, “We are recording this interview. If you would not like to be recorded, please let us know. If you are okay with carrying on with the recorded interview please just provide your name, age, and the current date for the record.”\n\nI answered Father Kevin, smiling as I did, “My name is Nick Feltman, I’m 22 years old, and it is currently October 19th. I like long walks on the beach and eating gummy worms off of my mother’s clean kitchen floor.” Sister Kelly rolled her eyes as the Priest stared at me. They were not amused.\n\n“Start from the beginning and detail everything that happened.”\n\nSo I began:\n\nTwo weeks ago, I had woken up as usual in my bed. Normally I wake up around 10 am when the light was shining at just the perfect angle that it hit my eyes. However, when I woke up this time, it was different. There was no light in my eyes and the room was still fairly dark. I could see everything above me, but I couldn’t turn my head. I also couldn’t move my body at all. I tried to yell out, but no sound escaped my lips. I felt trapped and alone. Then I heard a voice.\n\n*Your body is mine now, sinner!* The voice seemed to taunt from within my own head. I remembered thinking how it was possible to hear that. The voice seemed to read my thoughts. *I have taken control. You are my prisoner to do with as I please. You can scream, but only I can hear you.* I realized it was communicating with me by my thoughts. \n\n*Who are you?* It was really the only rational question I could think of. \n\n*I am the Demon Tezlavok!*\n\nA demon was in my body. I thought this only happened in movies. I was frightened. So I tried to beg it to leave, but it laughed. Then I had to ask the most important question.\n\n*What do you want with me?*\n\n*What any demon would want with a human body,* it replied with a dark, joyous tone. *I want to use it to terrorize your family!*\n\nIt was at that moment that it made my body move. I couldn’t fight back, couldn’t stop it. I could only watch as it made me walk out of my bedroom and down the stairs into my parent’s living room. \n\nNow I’m a college student and I go to a college nearby, so I do still live at home currently. My Mother was sitting on the couch watching a sitcom and folding laundry. She looked up at me, it, us, and asked, “Are you okay? It’s only 1 AM. I thought you went to sleep?”\n\nThe demon moved my lips and made me speak, “Get me a glass of orange juice!”\n\nMy Mother’s brows furled together. \n\n“Excuse me young man? Adult or not, you can ask me nicely.”\n\n“And add some chocolate icing into it” My mouth exclaimed.\n\n*Chocolate icing in Orange Juice? Why?* Tezlavok chuckled to me, accidentally releasing some chuckles outside. *Because it’s disgusting and she will be horrified.*\n\nInstead of horrified, Mom was quite aggravated. “You can get your own damn drink you brat. What the hell is the matter with you?”\n\nI walked out of the living room, into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator door. Inside there was a gallon of milk on the top shelf and some leftover hamburger meat the demon was eyeing. He pulled out both and set them on the counter. It opened the tupperware container holding the meat and threw it into the sink. Then it turned on the faucet and reached over to turn on the garbage disposal. My Mother walked in when the disposal turned on and started to yell. \n\n“Nick! Stop it! That’s good meat!”\n\n“That’s what she said, Mumio!” It roared with laughter at its own bad joke. \n\nMy father had heard the noise and had woken up to check out the commotion. He walked up to my body and grabbed my shoulders to give me a little shake. “What the hell is wrong with you, son! That damn meat isn’t cheap!” My arm pushed him back and grabbed the milk gallon. It lifted it to my lips and began to drink straight from the jug, chugging and chugging until half a gallon was gone. \n\n*What is happening right now? How is this terrifying?* I asked, confused.\n\n*Waste is one of the most terrifying things to witness!*\n\nDad grabbed the remaining half gallon from my hands and put it back in the fridge. My hands tried to open up the door again to grab it, but my Father held it closed.\n\n“You’ve had enough, Nick! You can go back to your room, or you can get out of my house! I will not tolerate this ridiculous behavior!”\n\n“I’LL DIP YOUR BALLS IN DECAFFEINATED COFFEE,” The demon screamed! It made my head turn all the way around as it screamed louder, “I’LL THROW YOU ON THE FLOOR AND POUR DIET COLA ON YOUR CHEST AS I EAT POTATO CHIPS OUT OF YOUR WIFE’S HAIR!”\n\nI remember being utterly confused at that point. *Why decaf? And, diet cola? Why did you specify?*\n\n*Because, Nick, Nicotine addiction is extremely high in this country. Why would I want to make it worse?*\n\nThe demon made us leap to the ceiling with our back against it. He called back to my parents, “I AM TEZLAVOK, EATER OF FECES, DEFILER OF PIDGEON CARCASSES, TRADER OF ANTIBACTERIAL SPRAY, AND I WANT YOUR SOUL!” \n\n*Dude, you have to work on a better name.* Then it hit me. The name, the wastefulness and the inexperience in true terror. I called it out, *you are new to this aren’t you.*\n\n*It’s my first time,* Tezlavok answered proudly. \n\nNow, I was going to warn him about the book. I never thought I’d say this, but I felt bad for the demon. His first possession ever and it was terrible. Since he was new, he wouldn’t know much about things that could stop a possession. So when my mother threw her 25 pound bible at us, he didn’t know what to do. It smacked my face and hit us so hard I felt the demon leave my body. \n\nI dropped down to the floor and hit my arm on the counter on the way down. It was broken I found out a few hours later. However, the demon was gone. I used my good arm to push myself up and moved to hug my mother. I told my mother and father how sorry I was. Then I vomited half a gallon of milk. \n\nThe end of my story left the Priest and the Nun in silence. They didn’t know how to respond. A few times the Priest moved to say something and stopped just to remain silent. \n\n“Have you heard from the Demon since,” Father Kevin asked. I had not heard from him since then, but I didn’t have a chance to answer. Sister Kelly began to shake violently. She rose to her feet suddenly and threw her head backwards, mouth ajar. \n\n“I AM TEZLAVOK, COLLECTOR OF RAT PELLETS, CONSUMER OF FIDGET SPINNERS, AND MASTER OF HAIRLESS TROLL DOLLS! I WANT YOUR SOUL, NICK!”\n\nWell, at least he’s working on his name."
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[WP] Everybody has an animal-like ability. Some can see in the dark, some can jump really high, some breath underwater. You are always made fun of because you never found out what's your ability, until one day, you feel threatened...
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"\"Just hand over your purse, and no one gets hurt\".\n\n​\n\nI'm trapped. My back to the wall, this thug in front of me pointing his gun to my chest. His ears flick around, searching for any potential witnesses, just one of the many abilities that people are born with.\n\n​\n\nHe presses the gun harder into me, insistent that I hurry up. My heart is racing. I can hear my heartbeat and feel the adrenaline as old news headlines and articles flash into my mind. 'Woman shot and killed in attempted mugging', 'Woman found dead in alley, shot in the chest.' I feel tears welling up in my eyes as I seize up, too scared to move.\n\n​\n\n\"Hey, hurry the fuck up! I'm serious, you know! You have three seconds to hand it over before I get ugly!\" He shouts, his ears flicking wildly, obviously nervous at how long this small girl is taking.\n\n​\n\n\"One...\" I can't move, I'm so scared\n\n\"Two...\" What should I do? Is no one around to help?\n\n\"Three...\" Oh god, this is it. \n\n​\n\nAdrenaline pulses through me as I see him raise the gun up. A voice in the back of my mind screams at me. 'Fight back', it says, 'Use what you were born with!'\n\n​\n\nI let out a primal scream, my fight or flight kicking in and choosing to not just sit here and die. Instincts born into me kick in, hundreds of years of evolution overtaking my fear as I raise my head to my attacker.\n\n​\n\nAnd spray blood from my eyes directly into his face.\n\n​\n\n\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\n\nBit of a short one sadly (I didn't have enough time to flesh it out a bit better...) but if you like this check out my other work at r/DoopleWrites!"
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[WP] All of humanity is born with a superpower, but you weren't born with anything. Yet you're still the most powerful person to ever live, because you have something which is unbeatable- plot armor. And a lot of it.
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"“Hello, my name is Bob, and I’m gonna stop you.”\n\nGod I look like an idiot. The being who stood before me had beaten all of this cities superheroes within an inch of their lives. He leveled building with no effort, the shockwaves from his punches can break concrete. \n\nHow did I get here? I was always the odd one out, in school, at work, even in my family. Everyone else had gotten some amazing superpower. My parents could both fly, my brother had telekinesis, but I didn’t get nothing. I was alone in this world... or so I thought. I was walking home from work at night, when a man tried to mug me. I didn’t have any cash, and he was clearly unstable, and a junky I think. I tried to run away, and he pulled out a switchblade. He teleported in front of me, and lunged to stab me. He tripped on a rock, fell, and broke his neck. Dead instantly. I went home, and thought I got lucky. Until it happened again. I was on a train going into New York City, when a woman on the train raised her hand, snapped her fingers, and the train caught on fire. I think she was a super villain, and it was a challenge to the cities heroes. I would’ve burned to death, but before she could kill me, the top of the train collapsed on her, and she died. Now I was suspicious. Similar things happened more frequently now that I was in a major city. A telepath tried to dominate my mind, but slipped and fell down a flight of stairs. A man with super strength tried to hold me hostage for money, and ended up knocking a pillar onto himself and crushing him. These things happened again and again, and I became more and more convinced I couldn’t be killed. But could I really take this behemoth down, with little more than what amounts to great luck?\n\nThe monster turned his gaze onto me, and laughed. He clearly thought I was nothing to be afraid of, and he would’ve been right. I wasn’t very intimidating. I wasn’t wearing a super suit, and I wasn’t even in very good shape. I was wearing a suit and tie. A news helicopter was circling our standoff, and they clearly thought I was stupid as well.\n\nThe monster laughed, and then jumped into the air to strike me down. I would’ve died, but at that moment a large meteor came hurtling through the sky. It hit the monster directly in the chest. He was sent flying directly into a power plant, where it was electrocuted with enough power to light a city. Tired, but still alive, it charged at me. At the last second, I jumped out of the way. It struck the base of a skyscraper, sending it crashing on us. The bulk of the rubble fell on him, but I was left standing with little but dust on my shoulders. After a few minutes of silence, I decided he was dead. I climbed up on the rubble, and saw the news helicopter, with the cameraman, reporter, and pilot looking dumbstruck. All around the destruction, more and more survivors looked at what happened, and saw me. I gave them a thumbs up, and started to walk home."
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[WP] As the hostile alien fleet closed in on Earth, oceans the world over began to churn. On the night side of the planet, all eyes are drawn skyward as the moon begins to visibly rotate. A flash of static hits every radio frequency before an echoic voice bellows, "This is our planet, too."
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"The main gun of an M5 Goliath battle tank tracked the moonship as two retrograde thrusters pivoted 90 degrees and fired landwards. F-41 Starhawks screamed overhead, flanked by two starships of Earth's own design, which appeared as little more than floating tubes of steel covered in bulky blocks of nuclear missile tubes when compared to the sleek lines and heavy armor plating of the moon vessel.\n\nThirty vessels were hastily constructed in the orbital shipyards of Dynamo Engineering. Yet after the Martian defense satellites were obliterated at the hands of the alien fleet and the surface of the planet itself glassed, it quickly became clear that thirty starships would only waste lives and resources. President Lyctove was fully aware of this- which is primarily why he ordered the *Centurion* and the *Eclypsis* to hold fire when the moon suddenly rotated 180 degrees and starships began to pour out of... somewhere.\n\nIn truth, Lyctove had no reason to hold fire. The moon had been fully established as a self-sufficient colony for several decades. How these vessels had managed to remain hidden was a mystery, yet also one that could be solved at a later date. The moonships clearly possessed technology far superior to *Arcadia* and *Lexian* class cylinders which comprised the Earth's only spaceborne defense. As long as they didn't fire first, Earth's weapons wouldn't target them, if only because they were too valuable for the fight ahead.\n\nLyctove now stood in front of the landed moonship, surrounded by a security detail of marines in powered armor. The Goliath whirred behind him, standing on four articulated legs and proudly presenting a 200 millimeter railgun which now seemed like a peashooter next to the sparking plasmacasters and antimatter torpedoes of the moonship. \n\nA ramp lowered amidst the fire and dust. Lyctove's marine complement backed off slightly, close enough to respond quickly in case the President's life was threatened but far enough away as to not infringe on any negotiations. \n\nThere was only a single figure which marched down the ramp in a distinctly militaristic style. He appeared unarmed, although the environmental suit which he wore could certainly mask almost any weapon.\n\n\"Greetings!\" Lyctove said, shouting over the din of the Goliath and the moonship combined. \n\n\"You are the President of the North American Block?\" the figure asked, disregarding Lyctove's outstretched hand.\n\n\"Y-yes, I am!\" \n\n\"I am Prime Minister Michael Hasan, of the United Planetary Republic.\" the figure then stuck out his hand, and Lyctove quickly shook it.\n\n\"Welcome to Earth!\" Lyctove responded, covering his ears as the Goliath shifted positions. \"Shall we go somewhere quieter?\"\n\n\"That would be preferable.\" Hasan answered calmly, even appearing slightly amused at Lyctove's discomfort. \n\n\\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"700 years ago, we launched the *Obsidian Dawn*. The only century ship we ever launched. They supposedly crash landed on the planet Endura-22a21s.\" Lyctove tracked the presumed fight course of the *Obsidian Dawn* with his finger on a holographic map in front of the rest of the United Nations Security Council. Hasan stood slightly behind him, hands clasped behind his back. He had removed his environmental suit- Lyctove had been slightly shocked to realize that these 'moonpeople' were human.\n\n\"In that time frame, they've made an interstellar empire. The United Planetary Republic. They've fought wars with other empires, and these \"aliens\" that glassed Mars are humans as well. Its a splinter fleet from the Interior Systems Coalition, which itself split from the United Planetary Republic after a civil war.\"\n\n\"How have we not noticed this before?\" someone in the Council asked. \n\n\"Because the *Obsidian Dawn* didn't crash on Endura-22a21s. All of that- it's all happening in another universe.\" Lyctove replied, wincing as he realized how ridiculous that sounded. \"They somehow entered another universe, and later developed the technology to traverse universes freely. A wormhole generator of some sort.\"\n\nThe Council immediently fell silent.\n\n\"Long story short, the Coalition and the Republic have been at war for a long time. The Coalition doesn't believe that Earth is humanity's homeworld, so they dispatched a fleet to attack it, just to send a 'fuck you' to the Republic. The Republic dispatched a fleet to defend it. And here we are.\"\n\nHasan stepped forth. \"We have sent the most powerful ship in our fleet. The *Alexandra* and her battlegroup will have no trouble destroying the Coalition forces before they reach Earth.\"\n\n\"Why couldn't they defend Mars?\" someone spat, as if the destruction of the red planet was the Republic's fault.\n\n\"Regrettably, we did not realize the threat of the situation until it was too late. And, frankly, we did not expect your technological level to be so low. After the Coalition fleet is dealt with, we will establish a temporary starbase in orbit, just long enough for you to catch up technologically with the rest of the multiverse.\"\n\nA man entered the meeting room, with four marines acting as guards. \"Admiral Hasan,\" he said. \"The *Alexandra* is engaging the Coalition forces. The Earth fleet is still holding in orbit.\"\n\n\"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen.\" Hasan said, tipping his bowler hat and ducking out of the meeting room, \"I have some duties to attend to.\" ",
"I can't help myself anymore, I'm just too terrified at this point. \n\nLast saturday morning i was playing with my older brother and father, my mother prepared a nice, warm breakfast of sunnyside eggs and ham, along with some orange juice and few bacon strips, before my brothers and i went out on a journey near the lake to catch some fish, and cook them at our self made fire pit. The day was amazing, and the journey a resounding success. If only things could've stayed this way...\n\nAfter the sun started setting we decided to pack our bags and head home, mama always has a dinner prepared for us after one of our adventures, so we were oh so very eager to find out what was on the menu. After we checked to make sure nothing was missing or left behind we jumped in my brothers old, rusty, worn out fishing truck(we called it the fishing truck cuz he doesn't do anything else with it) and set our sights for home.\n\nAs we were driving i could feel myself getting sleepier. It was only me in the back seat, so i took the opportunity, and unbuckled my seat belt and started laid down. What happened next felt like a dream. I still have trouble deciding if it was a dream or not, because it was so surreal. \n\nAs nightfall hit. Everything seemed to just stop. I sensed the sudden change in atmosphere, and opened my eyes to see my brothers arguing, and yelling violently at each other. They looked nervous and panicked, but i couldn't tell at that time, i was so very tired. \n\nI looked over to my right and out the window, i must've been dreaming, the moon itself seemed to rotate. I began gaining more of a sense of consciousness, and started making out some intense static coming through the radio. I couldn't make out the words that were coming out of the static, little did i know how important those words were.\n\nMy sleepiness eventually got the better of me, and so i closed my eyes and drifted slowly to sleep. That was the best sleep, the last sleep I'll ever have as a sane, hopeful, little boy, because when i opened my eyes.\n\n\nI was chained to this metal wall alongside hundreds of other boys. I looked down below me and saw things, people that shouldn't exist, people that just should not be able to breath and speak, communicate the same way my mama, papa, brothers, uncles, and friends do. I looked down at these people and began feeling the pain of the the things they placed on my wrists and ankles. Scorching, suffocating pain. I screamed and welled in agony, but that was far from the worst pain i would now receive. \n\nEveryday. Every goddamn day i wake to the same cold, ruthless cycle of walking shackled from hands to feet like some kind of deranged animal, and forced to eat worms and flys as the \"people\" mock and laugh at me, with their static, distant voices playing over and over in my head every night before i go to sleep, they're the real animals.\n\nI can't help myself any longer. I'm terrified at the thought of living the rest of my life like this. Recently i found something they should have kept hidden. A shard. A broken shard of glass just sharp enough to cut the sides of my finger tips, and just small enough to use effectively even with the handcuffs cutting my wrists and forearms.\n\nI miss my brothers and my parents, if only i knew that car ride was the last i'd ever spend with them, i would've stayed awake. Although maybe all this is a dream, and I'll wake from it soon, with my papa strapping me into bed as i never woke from the car ride in time. N mama preparing another delightful breakfast as i wake. I can't wake to tell them about this dream.\n\nFor now i walk up to one of my tormentors, the dream character with the long, beastly snout. He kicked and humiliated me. But now. Now that it's already over. Now that i can feel the dream coming to a close. I'll end it with a bang.\n",
"I hated the Dolphining from the moment I heard that stupid fucking name.\n\nI mean, what were they going to do? Flap their stupid fucking flippers in the general direction of the alien ships?\n\nSome people were in awe of them. Some people cried at the thought of how we’d exploited them for our entertainment. Not me; I wish they’d just kept their worthless sentience to themselves. Their grand reveal was a giant wrench in our defensive planning, a major distraction at the worst possible moment.\n\nWe probably wouldn’t have had much of a chance at any rate, but all hope is gone now. The dolphins don’t have any sort of magic or advanced technology that would help us now at the eleventh hour. They’re morons, honestly, and they’re not pulling their weight.\n\nGod, I hate dolphins. The *Dolphining?* Really? What a waste.",
"We were doomed to a fiery atomic death. The Hasturan Fleet was closing in on Sol-3a, closing in on our Earth. The enemy was a vast mind, a being composed of trillions of bodies and brains. We were hopeless as their hivemind allocated what it claimed to be a 'light assault fleet' of 77,000 ships to glass the continents and boil the oceans of Earth. Extinction of Terran Life- all at once. Total eradication of the entire gaian biosphere.\n\nThere was no resistance. A single Hasturan corvette class Starship had totaled the United Solar Accord's Fleet. We were defenseless. We were prepared for the end. Faced with nuclear annihilation I found some semblance of peace. It made sense. It was terrifying, and it was horrible, but it made sense. We poked a bear bigger than us and this is what they decided to do. Cause and Effect. Crime and Punishment.\n\nWhen the oceans began their humming things lost cohesion. Under the stars across the world Great behemoths awakened in the deep and in their electromagnetic voices screamed horrifying cacophonies in twelve part harmony.\n\nWe were told to prepare when the Hasturan Fleet broke orbit around Jupiter, but screamed in terror from far beneath the earth the word ‘Rise’ was heard. Cameras across the world looked to the sea and beheld great luminescent gargantuans wreathed in white light, filling the whole horizon; their bodies the size of mountains. They rose into the sky and in their wakes a trillion trillion of their tentacled young spiraled after them from the depths.\n\nWhen the Hasturan fleet moved past the asteroid belt the world heard a second behemoths enraged scream. “RISE” tore through the frequencies of Humanity, radios everywhere screaming its hellish command. Records show that in that moment twelve volcanoes across the Earth erupted. What we knew that day was that from their fiery depths rose tripedal monstrosities the size of Solar Battlecruisers. They roared their rage into the sky as they lept into orbit leaving the land shattered where they arose.\n\nAs the Hasturan fleet closed in on Martian orbit there was a third call, but this one was on the wind itself. “RRRIIISSSEEE” The skies were still black with ash, and within the great storms of burning air coalesced great cyclones. These storms were not natural, and from within their shadowed arcades of burning air emerged great beings of eldritch monstrosity and wickedness. I stared until I could not stare any longer, until my tear streaked face was caked with ash- but I tell you this with certainty. These blackened scaled things that somehow climbed into the sky on nine legs were beyond any mortal understanding or appreciation. \n\nAt long last the apologies and well wishes of Earthlings poured into the various radio frequencies and websites of social Martian humanity. Prayers were being sung in cities from across Earth to the faraway Mars. Humanity said thanks and so long to a third of itself. Quietly, we waited. No one heard the fourth call to rise. There was no sound, no radio chatter, no light or warning. Our moon just bloomed. Our Pale Lady Luna opened her 99 arms and from her emerged uncounted streaks of stultifying, purifying light. \n\nFifteen million miles away The Yellow Fleet of Hastur ignited. Many millions of observers went blind across the Earth and Mars. There was no reaction for a while, not until The Pale Lady closed her arms and returned to her disguise as our stoic moon. We celebrated, danced, drank ourselves into a stupor in glee. The United Solar Accord had confirmed the Hasturans totally destroyed, their carriers outside The Solar System turned away by the show of force. We were safe. We had survived annihilation. We would live. We would live on to become slaves of our New Masters, and their Old Gods. \n\n",
"The broadcast hadn't stopped, not since the initial announcement, and it had only grown more accusatory in the early morning hours.\n\n\"We have been gone less than one hundred million years. We presumed evolution would take place, that we'd return to find new life here, but you are not life. You are a virus.\"\n\nNews stations were predicting that the fleet would land in southeast Asia. One specialist -- if anyone can be a specialist in alien invasions -- thought the location was chosen for its population density and lack of military resources. If they wanted humans extinct, that would be the place to start.\n\n\"You have not thrived on this bountiful world. You've transformed it into a mockery of itself. For this, we deem you unfit to rule.\"\n\nFootage showed that all attempts to slow the approaching craft were less than pointless. Missles exploded against pulsing forcefields. Small arms fire ricocheted off their shielding. The nuke that landed in the stratosphere over the south Pacific did little more than push the fleet a few degrees off course.\n\nThe first ships slowed as they glided over the Himalayas, then settled down gently in the foothills. Human troops hadn't yet reached the battlefield, but one local with a camera phone managed to send a video clip that would be played on loop all across the world over the next few weeks, until the end of mankind:\n\nMassive ramps extended out and slammed into the snow and mud. Out ran the beasts, some two legged, some four, each wearing glimmering armor and futuristic weapon attachments. It took a few seconds to believe your eyes. It looked like something out of a school child's doodles. In the early days of the invasion, many refused to believe the attack was real.\n\nBut when the tyrannosaurus emerged with twin laser canons strapped to its shoulders, flanked by mortar-clad triceratops and velociraptors wearing jet packs, it wasn't a joke. It was the end of human civilization, and the dawn of the second age of dinosaurs.\n\n\\--------------------\n\n129/365\n\none story per day for a year. read them all at [r/babyshoesalesman](https://www.reddit.com/r/babyshoesalesman)\n\n\\---------------------",
"The ship descended, blocking out the sky on the National Mall in Washington, D.C. Crowds had gathered, those in which curiosity had won out over self-preservation, but they left The Ellipse free, the open space just south of the White House a perfect landing spot.\n\nThe army had gathered, but they would not do much good here, or at least not in Ambassador Frank Nelson’s mind. There were only two outcomes here that involved the army as far as he was concerned. Either their weapons were useless, and this invading force removed humanity by force, or their weapons did what they were built to do, and the massive fleet in orbit around the planet would remove humanity by force.\n\nNo, there was only one option, and that option was diplomacy. And it was he who the president had selected to speak to them. The fate of the world rested on his shoulders.\n\nThe invaders spoke English, or at least some level of English. That had been clear from the message that had been broadcast across all airwaves. “This is our planet, too.” Who were these invaders? Where did they come from? Why did they lay claim to Earth as their own?\n\nThe ship’s afterburners shot out as it eased down onto the lawn, surprisingly cool this close to them. He could hear the crowd on the mall beyond, some uneasy, others seeming to welcome the invaders. He could see the ramp begin to lower, revealing a light from within, and one could only hope, answers and reason.\n\nOr death. Frank figured he could take solace in the fact that if the bullets started to fly, he would die quickly.\n\nA trio of figures stepped down from the ship. They were humanoid in shape, wearing dark spacesuits with opaque visors blocking the sight of their faces. Two carried guns, but they held them low, ready to fire, but not actively threatening. What horrors lurked behind the masks? What manner of creatures came to claim Earth as their own?\n\nThey approached him and stopped, the unarmed one standing in front of the other two, facing Frank. It spoke, its voice distorted by the suit. “You are the United States president?”\n\nFrank cleared his throat. “I am Ambassador Frank Nelson. I am appointed by the president to speak on his behalf.”\n\nThere was a muffled sound from within the suit. “You will do, then.” He pressed a button on his suit, and there was the hissing sound of decompression.\n\nFrom behind him, Frank heard the sound of movement, the army prepared to shoot the invader dead. “Wait,” he shouted. “Do not fire. This is a peaceful exchange.”\n\nHe could still sense the uneasiness around him, even as the order was relayed to lower their weapons. The two alien guards had not moved, did not even seem to be concerned with anything around them. Perhaps it was arrogance, perhaps they had reason to be arrogant, or perhaps the suits simply hid their emotions. Frank could feel his own heart beating wildly in his chest.\n\nThe tension was broken by a staticy chuckle. “The histories say that your kind is jumpy, always quick to pull the trigger.” The leader was lifting his helmet, speaking as he did, the words slowly gaining clarity as they ceased passing through the suit’s comm and emerged into the air. As the helmet was removed, Frank could hear the gasps around him as the people of Earth gazed upon a human face, clean shaven chiseled chin, blue eyes, blonde hair cut short.\n\n“My name is Peter Williams, and I am the president of the United Nations of Planet Earth.”\n\nIt took Frank a moment to find his voice. “Of...Earth?”\n\nPeter nodded. “We are here to talk, not to fight. This is our home too, and we want to do everything we can to save it.”\n\n“Then let us talk,” Frank said.\n\nPeter motioned to the ship behind him. “Would you like to come aboard?”\n\nThe ship was more advanced than anything Frank had ever seen, the walls covered in panels, holographic displays showing other ships, the planet, newscasts from a dozen channels. Peter led him to a private room, and they sat on either ends of a table.\n\n“I don’t understand,” Frank said once they had settled. “How can you be from Earth?”\n\n“A delicate question,” Peter said. He pressed a button, and a holographic display of the solar system appeared. “But in its explanation lies the reason we are here.”\n\nThe display zoomed in on Earth, an Earth surrounded by space stations, with a moon lit up with the lights of cities. “Our Earth exists in a different timeline, one where science advanced much faster than in yours. Our scientists discovered a way to travel between timelines. We have been watching, studying, seeing how other timelines were affected.”\n\n“But what we could not see was the future. There’s something out there, something that is coming for you. In some timelines it comes sooner, in some later, but the result is always the same. Earth is destroyed, and everything on it with it.”\n\nFrank watched the man across from him for a moment. “So you’re from another Earth?” A nod. “And this something is...alien?”\n\n“Yes. Judging by your reaction to us, you are not ready. But we can make you ready.”\n\n“If you’re here, with so many ships, then your home…”\n\nPeter nodded. “Gone. We only survived because we had a backup plan. We were arrogant, thought we knew the enemy. We were wrong, but we know more now. Enough that we think we can win this time. All we need is a home for our people.”\n\nA home. Could this be real? Was this man telling the truth?\n\n“We are here to help you, Frank, and because we need help,” Peter said. “Don’t turn us away.”\n\n“This is all so...unbelievable. I don’t know what to think.”\n\n“Our presence should be enough for you to believe,” Peter said. “We will make what concessions you want, but we must begin preparations, or your Earth will suffer the same fate. And if it does, we will not have enough ships to save everyone.” A pause and a swallow. “We couldn’t save everyone on ours.”\n\nFrank leaned back in his chair, watching the man across from him, trying to pick out any indication that he was lying, that he was being dishonest in any way. Finally, he spoke. “How much time do we have?”\n\n---\n\nIf you enjoyed this, check out more at /r/drewmontgomery"
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[WP] The creatures can only move when not seen. The main power has failed but your friend can start the generator at 5:59. Thankfully the cameras still work
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"\"*Megan? Megan?! Hey, it's Alex! I'm trapped. T-Th-They've got me trapped in here! The things outside in the sanctuary here!\"\n\n\"Okay! Okay, stay calm. I need you to stay calm. Tell me what happened.\"\n\nShe waited for him to answer as she went to the window of the watchtower. From this location she could see all three sides of the park. This industrial park was chosen for its isolated location and large square footage capable of housing such specimens as these.\n\nDown below, a city block away, she could faintly see a flashlight shining upwards towards her from the main control room through her binoculars.\n\n\"Alex, are you still there?\"\n\n\"*They killed Glenn.*\"\n\n\"They killed Glenn??\"\n\n\"We were making our rounds. And the power went out. We lost the camera feed for a moment during the power surge. And then, some of the security doors failed. They're loose in here.\"\n\nMegan made sure to push the heaviest bits of furniture she could over the ladder to the stairway. She deadbolted and locked the hatch as she listened to his explanation. The floodlights still worked. They were rigged up to a generator at the mid level platform of the tower. The next stop was the gun locker. Although she'd never had to arm herself on the job yet, she figured now was the best time.\n\nThe bad news was that since the convoy left to acquire another specimen, security had already swept the room to take most of the weaponry with them for protection.\n\nShe set the SIG on the table, then went back to the radio.\n\n\"Alex?\"\n\n\"*Yeah?*\"\n\n\"You're watching the cameras? They're working correct?\"\n\n\"*Yes.*\"\n\n\"Remember: they can't move if you can see them. They also don't like the lights.\"\n\n\"*I know, it- It's just I have to check different screens. And... And if I look away. I'll have to find them. Before they find me.*\"\n\nThat was the flaw with the main control night shift. No one is to be left alone in the facility for that reason. A minimum of three people had to watch the park at all times. Two minimum at the control center. One in the watchtower.\n\nShe made sure her own feed for the stairway was still working. It was. Through the floor, she could hear the hum from the generator, it having clicked on once the power cut off.\n\nPower for her wouldn't be the problem.\n\n\"*Megan. Are you there?*\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'm still here.\"\n\n\"*One of them... One of them is calling my name.*\"\n\n\"Don't listen to it.\"\n\n\"*It sounds... It sounds just like Glenn.*\"\n\n\"Well, are you sure it's not him?\"\n\n\"*I know it's not. He's on camera 3. They're eating him.*\"\n\nMegan herself had to try to keep her stomach from flipping at this. Somewhere in the dark down there, Glenn was being treated like a four course meal. And once those things got even a hint of blood; they would be insatiable.\n\n\"Can you arm yourself?\"\n\n\"*The locker's in the hall. I'd have to open the door.*\"\n\n\"No! No, don't do that.\"\n\n\"*I don't want to.*\"\n\n\"Listen to me. I'm going to get you out of there. Understand? The generators on that side of the park take an hour to get a manual restart done. You got it?\"\n\n\"*I do.*\"\n\n\"I can reset it from here. But if not, you have to reset it from the generator room. And I'll walk you through it. We just have to make it until the generator comes back on. Or until the sun rises.\"\n\n\"*What time is it?*\"\n\n\"A little after 5 in the morning.\"\n\n\"*When will the sun come up?*\"\n\n\"...7 or so.\"\n\nSomething creaked. And Alex snapped the flashlight around in a circle to see if it was in the room with him. He turned back around on reflex and called Megan.\n\n\"*Megan? I looked away.*\"\n\n\"Why?!\"\n\n\"*I thought I heard something.*\"\n\n\"They're loose in the park, of course you'll hear things.\"\n\n\"*Megan, I lost one.*\"\n\n\"What channel?\"\n\n\"*Four.*\"\n\n\"I've got one on six. Is that him?\"\n\n\"*Maybe? I've got one on one, and another on five- Something's trying the door.*\"\n\n\"Block the door! Forget the cameras and block the door!\"\n\n\"*Help me please!! HElp!! GoD I Don'T WANT TO DIE!*\"\n\nShe could see his light bouncing in the windows now in rapid jerking movements. It was then she remembered the emergency kit. She had to hurry. Fishing around after yanking it from under the counter, she found the bright orange flare gun. She chambered a shot and opened the window.\n\nThrough the billowing snow, she realized she had only one chance at this. She squeezed the trigger and watched the flare arc over the buildings.\n\nThe commotion on the radio ceased.\n\n\"Alex, come in. Alex, come in.\" She radioed. \"Alex. I need you to talk to me.\"\n\nHis light was still through the binoculars now.\n\n\"Alex. Come in. Are you there?\"\n\nUntil she heard something press on the bottom of the hatch to the watchtower. She snapped the windows shut and went back to the camera feeds to the tower.\n\n\"*Megan?*\"\n\n\"Alex?\"\n\n\"*They know you're there.*\"\n\n---\n\nr/Jamaican_Dynamite"
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[WP] After traveling a pioneering voyage to a distant earth-like planet, you wake up from cryosleep and land the ship. To your utter shock, you are immediately approached by solemn-looking humanoids who ask in perfect English, “Are you the Messiah, or the Destroyer?”
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"\"...neither?\" I responded, still shivering off my sleep. This was not the welcome party I suspected. Especially since there wasn't supposed to be a welcome party.\n\n\"He speaks meekly!\" one called from the back of the crowd amassing before me. A few in the front breathed in relief. \"Messiah.\" I heard one whisper.\n\n\"Hey, come on, that's not very nice,\" I said, blushing.\n\n\"He fears the truth!\" This caused some grumbling in the crowd. \"Destroyer..\" one whispered. It was the same one as earlier!\n\n\"I'm not afraid of the truth!\" I called to whoever it was in the back.\n\n\"Hostile!\" one cried. \"He reeks of denial!\" another called.\n\n\"Stop, this is ridiculous! I don't even know what a Messiah or Destroyer is!\"\n\n\"*The Destroyer is supposed to speak in lies!*\" one hissed in the back.\n\n\"But the Messiah speaks the truth!\" another confronted him. \"He could be sincere.\"\n\n\"Look!\" I said, fear driving my words, \"I am neither the Destroyer or the Messiah! I'm just a traveler! A nomad, if you will. I was sent to see what this planet was made of!\"\n\nThey took a long time to let that sink in.\n\n\"Did he say he was neither?\" one called loudly from the back.\n\n\"The prophecy definitely said the first to arrive would be one of the two,\" the leader in the front said, eyes widening slowly as he stepped back.\n\n\"Yeah, but that doesn't mean--\" I began.\n\n\"HE LIED TO US!\"\n\n***\"DESTROYER! THE DESTROYER IS HERE!!\"***\n\nIn the back I heard cries of pain. \n\n\"Stop! I'm not!\" my voice was drowned out as they began trampling over one another and tearing one another apart in order to escape me.\n\n***\"IT RAISES ITS ARMS TO DESTROY\"***\n\nMy hands were up in an attempt to placate them, show them I was unarmed. I took a step forward, imploring them to see reason.\n\n\"Stay back! It approaches us now! Flee, my offspring, flee!\" the leader was looking at me with manic eyes, lips quivering fast enough to power my engine for the flight home.\n\nMore and more, I heard people being beat as they escaped me, and then I saw smoke on the horizon. They were trashing their own homes now.\n\nI looked down at my hands. Unable to really register that this was the first day I've been awake in years.\n\n\"He's calling in reinforcements!!\" the leader called back to his subordinates as I poked at my communicator.\n\nI typed the two words slowly, in disbelief as I returned to my ship.\n\n\"Completely uninhabitable.\""
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[WP] You really messed up. In your anger, you close your eyes and smash the mirror in your bathroom. You don't feel any pain or even the impact, but your fist suddenly feels cold.
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"I always wandered around when talking on the phone. Nervous habit. It was especially bad when I was in a difficult conversation. My wanderings had taken me through every single room of the house when I talked with Christine. I ended up in the bathroom when she finally hung up on me, telling me it was over. We had been together for three years and now, it was over. Just like that. She was moving away across the country.\n\nI lost control as the phone line went dead. My eyes closed. My fist hit the mirror as hard as possible. Then it just felt cold. Opening my eyes, I was expecting blood and broken mirror embedded in my flesh. There was indeed plenty of shards into my hand and fingers but there was not a single drop of blood. My hand felt cold as ice. Shaking, I reached for the largest shard with my other hand and pulled the mirror piece free. Ghostly smoke escaped from my skin as the jagged piece emerged, my skin sealed shut as it left. There wasn't even a mark.\n\n\"What the hell?\" I gasped as I pulled another piece free, the same light smoke escaping from what should have been these devastating injuries.\n\n\"Took you long enough,\" A gruff voice said over my shoulder. \"You'd think a guy would be more prone to hurting himself when working with knives and fire.\"\n\nI turned to see a ghost floating behind me."
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[WP] In a near-future America overcome by the opioid epidemic, you are one of the few non-addicts surviving in an all but collapsed society. You must overcome the violence and chaos to get help for an addicted younger sibling and safety for you both.
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"*When I was a kid, I used to love watching Star Trek. I always dreamed of how great technology would make the world. We’d live in a peaceful, tolerant society, where we’d be free to pursue whatever we wished. Yet apparently machines just left people with nothing to do, until they were broke and dependent on opioids to get through the days. My nice tech job kept bringing in the money though, so I turned a blind eye to what was happening throughout the country, but who knew how much things would fall apart. I didn’t even realize how bad things got until my sister, a high paid accountant, was released in massive lay-offs. What’s worse, the lay-offs were spurred from an advanced accounting software developed by my former employer. It was around that time society completely fell apart. The epicentre of finance, technology, and media around the world is practically a warzone aside from a few select major cities which live in a bubble. A bubble I used to live in. Then I lost mine as well, got evicted from my apartment and got a good look at what this country had become.*\n\nScott thought about this as he laid looking at the ceiling. Him and his younger sister, Chloe, were hiding out in an abandoned apartment. When they had got there a man was hanging from the ceiling. A note read “Wife left me, lost my job. Now I’m forty with no degree, no prospects, no nothing.” Victor had been looking after Chloe for awhile now after he discovered she had become addicted to opioids. However, she was suffering from serious withdrawal symptoms and appeared to have a more serious issue which needed to be addressed. Not only that, she would attempt to sneak out to gain access to opioids. Scott hoped that they could just get to one of the few functional hospitals. There had been rumblings around town about a self-sufficient society in the countryside, about 100 miles away. They didn’t rely on advanced technology and essentially operated as a small commune. Apparently, they were also very selective on who could be let in and were heavily armed. Still, Scott was confident than he and his sister would be considered worthy. Both were educated at elite schools and would have easily been upper middle class if not for the rapid advancements in technology.\n\nScott looked out the window. It looked clear, but he had to be careful. It was not uncommon for thieves to hide and attack unsuspecting people and try to raid them for opioids and anything else useful. Not only that, cholo gangs tended to operate within this area and the skinhead gangs weren’t that far off either. Scott certainly tried to keep up with his gym schedule, but he was far from an intimidating presence. Still, during his search of the house he managed to find enough household chemicals which would allow him to create some explosions. The car that Scott and Chloe had arrived in was nearly out of gas and all the self serve gas stations in the area had been fully looted at this point. He decided that he and Chloe needed a better form of transportation. The house no longer offered any benefits, so he and Chloe set out into the streets.\n\nThe two of them walked down the streets. It was quiet, and they said little to each other. Chloe had little to say in general lately. She was always such a sweet girl, never broke any rules and always worked hard for everything. She was the last person anyone would have ever figured would get addicted to drugs. Suddenly though, after a few hours of walking, she spoke her first full sentence to her brother in days\n\n“What do we do if we can’t make it there?” Her tone was devoid of any emotion or feeling a stark contrast to her normal self.\n\n“We will Chloe, we just have to keep moving.” Scott replied in an assuring tone. However, that was merely a mask, he was terrified that they would never be able to make it.\n\nThey continued to walk for nearly 20 minutes before they started hearing gun shots in the distance. They had found nothing which they could use for transportation and were starting to get very hungry after not having ate the day before.\n\n“Shit,” Scott exclaimed as he and Chloe ran behind a dumpster. Scott grabbed a pair of binoculars from his backpack and then looked out, but he couldn’t see anything. The two of them continued to travel forward but were a lot wearier. Eventually, Scott looked beyond the streets into the fields and saw a source of flaming light.\n\n“What do you see?” Chloe asked, more alert than she had been lately.\n\n“Looks like a giant fire. I think the gunshot came from there.”\n\n“Maybe we should go over there.”\n\n“I can’t put you into that sort of risk. You stay here, I’ll go ahead.”\n\n“You think I’ll be safer alone?”\n\nScott looked around 360 degrees with the binoculars. There was seemingly nothing in sight aside from that fire which was at least a couple miles away.\n\n“You’ll be fine. Here,” Scott said as he grabbed a knife and bottle of water from his bag. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”\n\nWith that Scott began heading towards the fire. He hadn’t seen anybody, until he noticed a Mexican-looking man lying on the ground who appeared to be drunk. The drunk man stood up and then tries to pick a fight with Scott.\n\n“You look like one of em’ damn techies! You a techie, boy?” as the much larger drunkard began invading Scott’s personal space.\n\n“No man, I worked in a machine shop,” Scott said taking a couple steps back.\n\n“Oh yeah, and what’d you do there?” The man replied as he continued closing in on Scott.\n\n*Uh, what do people do in machine shops?*\n\n“I built the machines,” Scott replied with a degree of faux-confidence.\n\n“Oh yeah, like what?” the drunk man replied more belligerent.\n\n*What machines do people use?*\n\n“Drills and stuff like that,” Scott replied, unable to even fake a sense of confidence.\n\n“EVERYONE WE GOT OURSELVES A TECHIE!” The man shouted in Spanish (which Scott understood).\n\nWith that a group of cholo gangsters came rushing out. Some of them were heavily armed. One of them, a tall, yet slim man walked up to Scott (presumably the leader).\n\n“Are you a techie man? Is this fat fuck here, right?” The man asked in a very intimidating and serious tone.\n\n“Blow me,” the drunk man shouted.\n\n“Look, I lost my job just like you guys,” Scott plead in a nervous tone.\n\n“Think this could be one of em’ Nazi fuckers?” Another one of them replied in Spanish.\n\n“Nah, this ain’t no gang banger, he’s just a little pussy. Aren’t you,” another man replied in English while taking a step in Scott’s direction as if he was going to take a run at him.\n\n“Alright man, we’re not gonna kill you as long as you hand over everything in that bag of yours,” the leader said staring Scott down.\n\nScott knew it was futile to attempt to argue, so he took the bag down and tossed it at their feet.\n\n“Good boy,” the leader replied.\n\n“Wait,” the drunk man exclaimed in Spanish, “we’re just gonna let this techie walk away?”\n\n“Yeah man, I say we fucking kill him right here.”\n\n“Nah, take his balls off!”\n\n“Quiet,” the leader piped up. “We’ll just brand him.”\n\n“Wait, what do you mean by that,” Scott asked distraught in Spanish (revealing he knew what they were saying). But before anyone could answer him, one of them grabbed his arms and held him in place as another pulled out a dirty tattoo needle. They burned the word “techie” on his face and then they left him there. Scott was in aggravating pain, but he had to run back to Chloe. He had been gone for over an hour and was running as fast as he could. However, when got back to where he left Chloe, she was no where to be found. He looked around and saw the bottle of water and knife he had left her with on the ground. Scott was left branded, with no equipment, and no idea where his sister was and whether she was dead or alive."
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[WP] A child draws there parent an elaborate drawing of their imaginary friend. The parent later going through their own childhood memorabilia sees a picture nearly identical to the imaginary friend.
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"“This isn’t my life,” the woman whispers to herself. \nShe knows everything that happened since she was a child. She knows her dad past away. She knows she which college we graduated from. She knows the story of a guy spilling his drink on her and being so embarrassed he asked her out to make up for it. She knows she married him and had a child. But she doesn’t remember any of it. The last thing she remembers from before the birth of her child is being a child herself, and her imaginary friend saying he would grant one wish...",
"I take the muffins out of the oven. The scent immediately fills the room, the sweet, cozy scent of freshly baked dough and raspberry jam. It blends particularly well with this warm, autumn day. \n\n-\"George! Wash your hands and come downstairs, your favorite muffies are ready!\"\n\nI leave the tray over the table, and as i wait for it to cool down, i stare at my boy's drawings, glued all over the fridge door. He likes to draw whenever he's happy. There's the football, he drew it in his first day with his soccer team, a drawing of Sasha, our pitbull puppy, and there's me and Eric, my lovely hubby. I can't really picture my life without them, and my little boy is my sunshine. Since the first time that i held him in my hands, i knew that he was going to change my life. His eyes, his nose, his skin, were so soft, and familiar. It's almost like he reminded me of somebody. \n\nI pick up his schoolbag from the ground, and a drawing falls from it's side pocket. He must've drawn this on his birthday, it was only a couple of weeks ago, he and his two best friends had a lovely movie night together. But, who's the other kid on the drawing? He doesn't resemble any of the kids from school. He's holding George's hand, and has skinnier legs, he looks like he's wearing a dress, his eyes are big and dark, has no nose, and a big, red square for a mouth. His head is bigger than his short, assymetrical body, and he looks like he has red, curly hair over his creepy, hunting face. \n\nMy heart stops for a moment. I suddenly feel dizzy and nauseous. Grab my phone and look at the date. I panic. I head down to the basement, turn on the light, and start going down the noisy, wooden stairs. It's dark, cold, and i can smell the old, dusty bricks. I head to the corner and start looking through the boxes. There it is. My heart is pumping, but i'm breathless. \n\n\"Susanne. 30 October 1997\"\n\nI open it, and start looking through the stuff. Her dolls, her favorite dress, our last picture of her, her diary. I open it, and quickly go to the last page...\n\n-\"No.\"\n\nI rush upstairs, grab my phone and speed dial as i make short, anxious walks around the kitchen. \"Pick up, pick up, pick up\". \"The customer you're calling, is unavailable. Please, leave a messagge.\"\n\n-\"Mom. He's back!\"\n\nI put on my coat and start searching for my car keys. \n\n-\"George, come down honey, we're going at grandma's!\"\n\nI fold the drawing and put it in my pocket, lock the back door, and see Sasha. She's sitting right in front of it, in our backyard. I open the door and tell her to come in, but she doesn't move. She just stares at me. She's scared. I head back inside. \n\n-\"George?!\"\n\nNothing. All i hear is the leaves blowing from the outside. I go upstairs, open the bedroom door, and rush inside. George is standing in the middle of the room, motionless, his eyes are wide open, and he's staring. But his eyes are not pointing at me. He is looking at something in my back. The wind blows the window, and pushes it on the inside. I see my reflection on it, but i'm not alone...\n\n-\"Hello\"\n\n\n\n\n**\n\nEdit: This is the first time i write something, please give me any feedback.",
"I walked through the door a quarter past midnight; becoming quite the routine due to my time at the office. I found my way to the fridge before I could even loosen my tie, food almost a must before I went right up to my home office to go back to work, only now trying to put the financing of the family business. \n\nI booted up my laptop, my eyes closing for seconds before my wife cleared her throat walking towards me. \n\n\"Can I show you something?\" She asked nervously. \n\nShe waited for a brief moment, then she placed a blank piece of paper on my desk. \n\n\"Your son came home with this today.\" \n\nI flipped it over and felt my eyes well up immediately. Without hesitating I gripped my wedding frame and began to pull it apart. The picture itself folded, and once unfolded showed that our suspicions were more than just that, they were indeed spot on. \n\n\"Is everything ok daddy?\" My son Chris asked rubbing his eyes. \n\n\"Everything is okay sweetie.\" She said for me, \"I was just showing daddy your art.\" \n\nHe perked right up. \"Did you like it?\" \n\n\"I love it Bud.\" I said smiling, \"Who is it?\" \n\n\"My new friend.\" He said looking immediately towards the chair in the corner. \"How'd she beat me in here!?!\" He shouted running towards the checkered chair in the corner. \n\nTears poured again from eyes as my wife rubbed my back. \n\n\"It's okay Dad.\" Chris said coming over to me, \"You can keep the drawling.\" \n\nI smiled. \n\n\"I haven't seen your friend in quite sometime buddy, but I did know that she was my best friend.\" I said trying not to cry as I showed him the folded up wedding photo. \n\n\"That's you and mommy on your murrage day.\" \n\nAs I unfolded the photo it clicked in his head.. \n\n\"That's you, mommy, and your mommy on your murrage day...\"",
"The room was crudely outlined, a simple cube, but the creature detailed within was impressive – even for James. \n\n“Wow sweetie, that looks great. What’s its name again?” Rachel said, studying the drawing. \n\n“That’s mister squiggles,” James said, excited. “He squiggles all around and watches everyone.”\n\n“Well, let’s put mister squiggles right here on the refrigerator. Your dad is going to be so proud when he sees this.” \n\nMore like horrified. What could have made James come up with an abomination like this? The tentacles were fine, but the eyestalks? And the mouth? It was like someone had taken a lamprey, an octopus, and a spider and blended them all together. No more late-night cartoons for James, that was for sure. \n\nRachel walked to the copier, making a quick copy of the drawing. James would thank her for this, sometime in life. She went upstairs and pulled out James’s scrapbook, adding this to another page. *Mr. Squiggles, that was a new one*. Rachel went to put the scrapbook away when she noticed something laying on the bottom of the box – it was her own drawing scrapbook, from when she was a child. \n\nNostalgia got the better of her, and in moments she was walking through time, looking at her drawings. She had started drawing at the age of four, and she was proud of the fact that James was *significantly* better than her at that age. Her earliest drawings were of her family, mom and dad, older brother jimmy. At the age of 5 she had an animal phase. Snakes and spiders. Something that looked like a giraffe. Possibly a duck – or was that a drawing of the old family car? Rachel couldn’t really tell.\n\nRachel turned the page and froze. There, indescribably, was Mr. Squiggles. With shaking hands, she set the book down. Grabbing James’s drawing, she compared the two. The match was indescribable: the same number of appendages, the same blob-like form, the same number of teeth, the same crudely drawn cube. \n\n“James, can you come here?” Rachel said. \n\nNo response.\n\n“James… James?” Rachel ran downstairs. James was gone. Rachel’s pulse rose; her breath came in quick bursts, and she slumped against the wall. \n\nThe kitchen door opened, and James walked in. Rachel breathed a sign a relief. \n\n“Mommy look, I caught a frog.” James said. It was a toad, but James didn’t know that. \n\n“That’s lovely sweetie. Put the frog back, it needs to go back to its family,” Rachel said. \n\n“That’s what Mr. Squiggles said too.” James said, as he walked towards the kitchen door with clear disappointment. \n\n“Wait, what else did Mr. Squiggles say?” Rachel asked. James paused at the door and frowned for a bit, thinking. \n\n“I don’t remember. Something about space, and how he was stuck in a box, and he wants to get back home. Is he one of those space monsters like on TV?”\n\n“I don’t think so sweetie, did he say anything else?”\n\n“No, but we counted some math. He was talking about the dimmy-sums. He counted 6 dimmy-sums, but I only counted 3.”\n\n“Dimensions? Did he say 6 dimensions?” Rachel asked. Her head was getting foggy. This couldn’t be real. She must have taken too many melatonin pills and was probably sleeping through the afternoon.\n\n“Yeah! Dimmy-sums.” James said, giggling. He had lost interest in the toad, who squirmed its way to freedom, falling on the white tiled floor. \n\nRachel scooped up the terrified toad and brought it outside. She needed a moment to clear her head. Back in her garden, she placed the toad near her grandmother’s prized tomato plants. With any luck, it would keep some of the bugs away. What could a creature want from her son? What did it want from her, when she was a child? Was it friendly, or somehow out to harm her family? \n\nShe turned around and screamed. James was standing directly behind her, staring blankly. \n\n“Mommy, can we get ice cream?” James said. \n\n“Darling - You scared me. Yes - let’s get ice cream.” Rachel said, exasperated. \n\nWhatever the thing was - whatever it intended, Rachel would find out; for now, everyone needed a Popsicle. \n\n​\n\n[r/BLT\\_WITH\\_RANCH](https://www.reddit.com/r/BLT_WITH_RANCH)"
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[WP] Your school has a letter exchange with a school in another country. Your teacher explains that your letter was knocked into her fireplace before it could be delivered, but the next day a slightly charred and smoking letter is sitting on your desk.
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"As Maggie walked into her first period class she noticed that everyone's desk had an envelope on it. Today was the day! Mrs. Graves had told everyone that it could be any day now that the letters would come back. She knew that she wouldn't get one of course since hers had fallen into the fireplace, but it would still be exciting to see what her friends recieved.\n\nMaggie stepped into class and looked at Mrs Graves walking to her podium at the back of the room. Mrs. Graves was abnormally spry for a woman her age but this year something seemed a bit off about her walk. Not as much pep as there was last year, and definately more leaning on the desks as she walked back to her podium. Maggie frowned with worry for her favorite teacher.\n\nMaggie's frown morphed to a look of surprise as she reached her own desk and took notice of what lay upon it. Sitting squarely in the middle of the desk was a white envelope, slightly charred in a couple places, with bold flowing script that was clearly addressed to her. Maggie Pembleton, Mrs. Graves 1st period Literature Class. Yup, definitely addressed to her. Her breath caught in her throat and she couldn't take her eyes from the envelope.\n\nHearing the odd noise from Maggie, Mrs. Graves turned around and slowly tottered her way back up the aisle to Maggie's desk.\n\"What is it child? Are you alright?\"\n\nMrs. Graves voice from right beside her startled Maggie from her trance and she gasped as her body forcibly reminded her how important breathing was.\n\n\"Mrs. Graves, I thought you said I would be recieving a letter because mine fell into the fireplace?\"\n\nMrs. Graves looked at Maggie's desk and finally took notice of what lay upon it. A mighty sense of confusion shot through her old bones. She had watched helplessly as Maggie's letter had slipped into the fireplace last week. It had pained her greatly to tell Maggie about it and dash her hopes of recieving a letter with this batch. All of the kids had been very enthusiastic about the letter exchange program this year. \n\nAs certain as she was that Maggie wouldn't be getting a letter today, there one sat as smugly as any letter she had seen in all her days. Addressed directly to Maggie as well. Mrs. Graves reached out to pick up the envelope. Perhaps she could ascertain who sent it. As her hand drew closer to the letter, she could feel a small amount of heat still radiating from it. It felt as if this letter had been sitting on a windowsill all day long on a hot summer day. She snatched her hand back as if she had touched a scalding hot kettle. It couldn't be...\n\nMaggie watched as Mrs. Graves jerked away from the letter. The color had drained from her face and it looked as if she had seen a ghost. She whispered to Maggie in a breathless tone.\n\n\"Flip it over.\"\n\nMaggie did as she was told, and on the back there was a brilliant scarlet wax seal with a dragons head stamped in the middle to keep the envelope shut. Mrs. Graves gasped, fainted, and crashed backwards into a row of desks. \n\nMaggie tried to catch her mentor as she fainted but was too slow to react. She knelt down beside Mrs. Graves and noticed what looked like a small cut on her head, presumably from where she had hit her head during her fall. Maggie applied pressure with her hands and started screaming for help. Some of her classmates showed up at about this time and one of them called 911 while another ran to get another teacher.\n\nAs the paramedics finished loading Mrs. Graves onto a stretcher, Maggie snatched up her book bag and started after them, intent on going to the hospital with them. She snatched up the her letter as well, smearing blood on it in the process. She shoved the letter into her jacket pocket and took off after the paramedics at a full sprint.\n\n\nLater that evening, after the doctors had finally given up on trying to make Maggie leave the ICU, Maggie sat crying on the couch beside her teachers hospital bed. She had been praying all day long while the doctors had been working to stabilize Mrs. Graves. A warm hand shook her from her tears and she looked up to see the most beautiful man she had ever seen before staring down at her.\n\n\"Hey kid, I Heard you.\" He glanced over to her teachers bed and then back to her. \"I'd like to speak to Mrs. Graves alone for a few minutes if you don't mind. I promise she will still be here when you come back. You have my solemn vow.\"\n\nMaggie couldn't help but to nod and wipe her nose as she got up from the couch. Her stomach growled and she realized that she hadn't eaten all day. She looked from the man to Mrs. Graves and then back to him.\n\n\"I am going to go get a snack from the waiting room. Make sure that nothing happens to her while I am gone.\" She said to the man. He flashed her a small smile that made her blush for reasons that she didn't quite comprehend.\n\n\"Sure kid. She'll be okay.\"\n\nMaggie nodded and walked to the closest waiting room in search of food. As she reached into her jacket in search of her cash, her hand happened upon the letter that she had put into her pocket that morning. She drew it out and noticed that she must have been clutching it at some point throughout the day as it was definitely a bit worse for the wear. There were blood stains on the back where she must have grabbed it with Mrs. Grave's blood on her hands that morning. Miraculously, the seal had remained unbroken. As Maggie ran her fingertips over the seal, it felt as if the dragon wriggled slightly and she felt the seal break open where she had touched it.\n\n\"How incredibly odd,\" she thought to herself. She opened the envelope and inside there was a single page of thick parchment. The letter inside was written in the same bold script as had been used on the front of the envelope. \n\n\n\"Dear Maggie,\n\nYou're letter was a thrilling surprise amidst the dreariness of my usual daily duties. I must admit that I have never been chosen as a penpal before, and I am quite pleased to make your acquaintance. I wonder what my father will think when he learns of this.\n\nYour family and friends sound like a lovely bunch of individuals. That Stacy on the other hand... she sounds like a terrible bully. I imagine that if you apply the correct pressure in the right places, then her facade will crumble like a house of cards. I will ask around about her.\n\nI must say that going to your family's estate for the holidays sounds like it will be an amazing experience. I am currently stationed at the main reception area and we never get snow here. We are plagued by more heat than most other places can even fathom, but at least it is a dry heat. Ah to tread through the quiet night after a freshly fallen snow... I hope to experience that one day soon. Whilst you are on holiday, do be sure to not go skiing with the neighbor's boy named Chadwick. I have it upon good authority that he is absolutely rotten to the core.\n\nI can hear the Master striding back this way so I fear that my time for pleasantries has come to it's end for now. I hope that this letter finds you in good health, and I wish you all the best with your upcoming senior year.\n\nWarm regards,\n\nPrince Lucius \"Brightblade\" Draconis\n\nGaurdian of the Gate, 9th Legion\nFlameward Highway, Land of the Damned\"\n\n\n\"How very odd indeed...\" Maggie's stomach rumbled once more and she dug in her pocket once more to see if she could sooth the beast.\n\nAs Maggie returned to Mrs. Graves room, she noticed that the beautiful man from earlier was not there. A scent of cinnamon stilled lingered in the air though, so she couldn't have missed him leaving by very much. As she tried to recall his face, she found that she couldn't remember exactly what he had looked like. She walked into Mrs. Graves room still pondering the beautiful man and noticed that Mrs. Graves was resting peacefully in her bed. All of the machines above her bed showed her in the normal ranges for each of their readouts. Maggie smiled for the first time since she had gotten to the hospital that day. As her eyes drifted to the couch beside the bed, she noticed a letter folded in half on the pillow. No name on the outside so she opened it to see what it said.\n\n\"Miss Pembleton,\n\nThank you for being with Maddam Graves today and for calling me to her side once more. It has been entirely too long since my last visit. For your assistance I have decided that you may continue to be my son's 'penpal' for the time being. If you wish to write to him again, simply write his name on the outside of the envelope and drop it into any fire that is convenient. I will see that it finds it's way to him.\n\nMy thanks,\n\nLord Draconis\"\n\n\nMaggie looked from the letter to Mrs. Graves and back to the letter multiple times before finally deciding that she had had enough for one day and that she would talk to her teacher about these strange letters once she awoke. Maggie kicked off her shoes and curled up on the couch beside her teachers bed, wondering what kind of craziness she had found herself in as she slowly drifted off to sleep."
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[WP] Long ago you were turned into a vampire against your will, your soul fleeing from your body in the process. You have since then been reincarnated into a new life and sworn to track down and destroy the corrupted body and mind that you previously called your own.
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"My gaze silently gouged into the death-mask white of that face -- my face -- a face now devoid of warmth and life. \n\nI twitched my nose. This cavern smelled of pine and fungus, old earth. It suffocated me. \n\nHe was still. \n\nNo rise and fall of his chest, no swelling of the vest and cape. But I knew the poison life inside him. His eyes, all pupil, dark and hungry as a black hole, when they opened, they eclipsed any willpower.\n\nSo I'd waited. \n\n\"Stealth,\" Esmerelda had whispered. My Esmerelda, the doughy, tough little woman with a flaring crown of scarlet hair. She'd seen me in her hovel, really seen ME.\n\n\"I know what it is you want,\" she had said. Somehow she had known. \n\n\"He's helpless in the sunlight no matter where he is. He can't move.\"\n\nI stirred myself against his hand. I tensed. But nothing. More resolutely, I nudged his wrist. Still no response.\n\nEsmerelda had held my face to hers. \n\n\"You're a smart little stab of vengeance.\"\n\nSeven hours until sunlight. More than enough time for a toothsome bite or two ... or many more.\n\nI sensed him. \n\nHe knew. \n\nAll the horror of that ancient night flooded my memory. My soul flung high into the atmosphere, cartwheeling away in panic, as he enveloped my body. My fine body. Not this new monstrosity I inhabited. \n\nMy anger spiked. \n\nA soulless wail of silence filled his casket. \n\n\"Enjoy it,\" I thought, as my rat teeth nibbled into his wrist. "
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[WP] People with dementia gradually arrive in heaven. Their souls coming into being slowly in the afterlife as their memories fade from the physical world. You are a citizen of heaven who has just been cleared to adopt a incrementally arriving soul.
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" Remembering The Lost\n\nYou would think that Heaven was a bright light, a pearl as indescribable as it was beautiful. It was, and yet it wasn’t. If light could be found, Heaven was bright. That was the way it was, and that is the way it shall always be. I always view it as this: that while Humanity is flawed, it is truly capable of being great. Heaven is humanity at its height, where intellect meets beauty that can only be hinted at amongst the living.\n\nWhich is why some saw it as strange when I took to my position with an eagerness that belied the task at hand. To be a shepherd of the mentally ill, to voluntarily seek out something less than perfect, to sully my mind and soul with those that are forever tainted by means outside of their control… I was as applauded as as I was pitied.\n\nI had always liked helping people. I had never cared about the money, but I had cared about my patients. Watching someone die while unable to help them was heartbreaking, but here I could make a difference. Here I could help and continue to do so.\n\nHere I had all the time I needed.\n\n“Mother!”\n\nI froze as the voice burst into being, whirling as a shrill cry seared through my heart like the heat of a dying star. \n\n*That voice, it seems so familiar.*\n\nOld memories jumped from the recesses of my mind, passing by with the speed of a bird of prey. My heart sank as the voice rose once more, pleading for someone who wasn’t there. Not truly. \n\n*Poor child*.\n\nI spread my wings, leaping from my post and into the air, ascending hundreds of feet into the air in a single instant. White flame burst around me, a searing beam of light that could take as easily as it gave. It didn’t take long for me to find the child, so lost and alone as he was. \n\n*Where are the others?* I thought angrily, speeding towards the boy. *Where is his family?*\n\n“Mother!” the boy screamed, tears flowing down his quivering cheeks as I landed next to him. “Where is she!?” \n\nHe was young. Much too young. He wore simple clothing and a complicated expression. Long wavy brown hair flowed down to his shoulders, reflecting the light surrounding my current form. A beautiful child, who loved and was loved.\n\nFear- it bled from him as much as his eyes did. But it was those eyes, those bright blue eyes, that caught my attention. Even unseeing, they pulled you towards them, even as their youthful innocence cracked and bled before my eyes. \n\nI almost wept as I knelt before a vessel of purity, taken from his life before he could be molded into something uniquely his own. Taken too soon, and yet taken too late.\n\nI tentatively raised a hand, moving to brush away the boy’s tears. The boy flinched, his unseeing eyes widening as he stepped back, arms raised protectively in a weak shield. “Please,” the boy whimpered piteously. “I want to go home.”\n\nTears gathered in my eyes as I furled my wings. *What a horrible disease, to be forsaken from both realms and terrified in both*. “Come with me,” I said softly, forcing my quavering hands to be still as I kept my gaze locked to the blinded boys'. “We will find your mother.”\n\n“Where am I?” the boy wailed, stumbling forward to fall into my arms. “Where is mother? Where is my brother, where is Daniel? Where-”\n\nThe boy disappeared, flickering in and out of existence, out of my arms. A young boy, full of potential and good. *Flicker*. An older gentleman, just retired and approaching his fortieth wedding anniversary. *Flicker*. A young man, just married and beginning to start his family. *Flicker*. “Mother!” *Flicker*. “Daniel!” *Flicker*. \n\nI kept my arms around the rapidly changing body of the boy, now unable to keep my tears back. “It will be alright,” I whispered, hugging him close. “I will be here. I will wait.”\n\nIt never became easier, but it eventually it did slow. The boy calmed, growing into a man before my eyes. I sat back, and one of the boy’s family members brought us chairs. We waited, and I comforted him when delirium took him, when the boundary between life and death became too thin. The whole time, members of Joshua- the boy’s family- gathered, waiting silently. I comforted them too when I could, when Joshua suffered, and they cried and wept and raged, I helped as best as I could. It wasn’t enough, it never was.\n\nBut I tried, all the same.\n\nIt ended in a bright flash, with a scream of agony that shredded my soul. What was once a boy was now an elderly man, deceased at the age of seventy-five, leaving behind a lasting legacy and a family that he had loved.\n\nBut there was a family waiting for him here too, who had now been waiting for many years. Sometimes patient, sometimes not, but loving all the same. These were his grandparents, his father, his mother, his uncles, his aunts, his old friends and old lovers.\n\nThey were all here.\n\nAt this point, I stepped back, allowing Joshua’s family to at last meet him, to welcome him to their next life. At this point, usually, I am forgotten. Not cast aside but forgotten amidst the happy family reunion. \nBut this time when I turned to leave, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Joshua, a radiant smile on his face as he hugged me for the last time. “Thank you,” he sobbed into my shoulder, the rest of his family falling silent with happy and thankful expressions of their own. “Thank you for being there for me. For my family.”\n\nI smiled, stepping back and cupping his chin so that our eyes met. “Always,” I said softly, giving him one last hug in return before I unfurled my wings and leapt into the air. \n\nI worked alone, but I was never bereft. \n\n*Thank you, Joshua.*\n"
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[WP]You hold your newborn child in your hands. She has your eyes, and yours are brimming with tears. Out of the corner of your eye you see text in mid air. *Player 2 has entered the game**Player 2 has challenged you to a duel*
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"Months ago, I held my wife’s hand and watched the ultrasound of our curled-up daughter squirming in her womb. The baby was unexpected, but we were ecstatic nonetheless. But today, I anxiously paced around the hospital waiting room, mindlessly picking at the buttons of my favorite red-and-black checkered flannel. Doctors had already rushed Carrie to the delivery room to prep her with anesthesia for our daughter’s birth. I muttered a few comforting words under my breath and tried to shake off the nerves before heading to the room.\n\nBetween the painstaking contractions my wife gritted through, she greeted me softly. Her tired, blue eyes brimmed with tears as I swiped away a blonde curl pasted to her sweaty forehead. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. For a while we talked about the changes in our life with our new daughter but was interrupted by another contraction. She moaned and gasped and rubbed her bulging stomach, trying to soothe the pain.\n\nA few moments later, a middle-aged doctor entered the room, carrying a clipboard, and scribbling something down. He placed the clipboard on the counter and reached for a pair of green, latex gloves. With a warm smile, approached us and prepped for the delivery.\n\n“The baby should be coming any minute,” the doctor said. He peeked under her gown to check the progress of the dilation. He gave Carrie instructions on what to do next, which consisted mostly of pushing, breathing, and short breaks in between. \n\nI feigned looks of awe at the crowning head of the baby popping out of my wife’s womb. In reality, the birth was gross to watch. But nothing could compare to seeing my bloody, crying daughter wrapped in a cozy, pink blanket. While my exhausted wife recovered from the excruciating pain, I cradled Alexandria in my arms and cooed softly to her. \n\nI rocked Alexandria into a peaceful sleep and placed her in my wife’s arms. After the initial excitement and anxiety, I retreated into a chair in the corner of the room and started nodding off. Because of the position I slept in, I awoke, startled from a neck spasm, to my sleeping girls and a glinting white text suspended in air. I rubbed my eyes a few times and squinted at the strange sight.\n\n“*Player two has entered the game*,” it read. I scratched my head in confusion. I lightly tapped my cheek to check whether I was still sleeping. The letters quickly evaporated, and a new text appeared. “*Player two has challenged you to a duel*.”\n\nI stumbled backward, completely creeped out. Out of thin air, a dust devil formed, dispersed, and revealed a paladin dressed head-to-toe in medieval armor. On his chestplate was a crest with a castle and a white ribbon circling it, embroidered with an unreadable Latin phrase. He lifted the visor of his iron bascinet and spoke to me.\n\n“Under Artis’ law, I charge thee with capital treason,” he commanded. He unsheathed his steel scimitar from his belt and pointed the blade’s tip under my chin. “If you do not comply, I will be forced to kill you.”\n\nStunned, I gulped, wide-eyed at the cool touch of the metal scimitar prodding at my skin. I licked at my drying lips and open my mouth to speak.\n\n“W-who are you?” I asked, scared out of my wits. “What did I do?”\n\n“Silence!” he growled, poking the blade deeper into my flesh, almost breaking the skin. “Alexandria is property of King Artis. She is the heir to his kingdom and his royalties. I am here to return what’s rightfully ours.”\n\nHe paused and waited for a response, but when I stood there silenced by fear, he continued, “Seeing as you will not abide, I, a man of honor, challenge thee to a duel.”\n\nHe marched a few steps back and readied himself for battle. In front of me, a faint, pinkish cloud appeared with a few weapons: a battleaxe, a bow and quiver, a rapier, and a longsword. \n\n“Choose your weapon wisely,” he said, before dropping the visor over his face.\n\nI fearfully looked at Alexandria and my wife sleeping soundly in the bed, undisturbed. I figured the strange man in front of me could attack at any moment, so without thinking I reached for the longsword. As my fingers touched the hilt of it, the cloud and other weapons instantly disappeared.\n\nWithout missing a beat, I heard the paladin’s battle cry and he charged at me, sword ready. Shaking, I braced myself for the duel."
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[WP] you have multiple personality disorder. One of your personalities is known as the greatest detective alive while your other personality is known as the most notorious criminal of all times. Your two personalities know of each other and are rivals but are never able to find each other
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"I wake up suddenly and look around. where am I. then i see it. the bank safe opened with a bag of cash inside. two guards beheaded and prob tortured lying down. Howd i get here? \n\nsuddenly i hear two voices outside. I stand up quickly and brush myself. its the police. the chief a friend of mine sees me and says: \nOh so you are already here. as fast as ever. not a pleasant sight at all.looks like a robbery case.\n\nhe starts to direct his team to get fingerprints and analyse the crime scene.\n\ni suddenly get a headache and touch the back of my head. its sore. \"What do u think?\" the chief suddenly asks me. HUH? i reply. \" oh yeah i just got here but its clear that the killer left no signs...\n\n\"chief come here\" one of the the fingerprint analysts sudddenly says. I see the chief listen to the analyst whisper something in his ear. i am getting confused. waht is happening.\n\nand why is the light so blinding. my head... it hurts.. it hurts like crazy. \n\na picture of me standing in the safe with a knife in my hand comes to my mind.\n\n\"detective. \" the chief says. \"this cant be right. these fingerprints have a 87% match to u\"\n\nwhat? i think. man i need to get some shit straight.\n\n\"Chief can i have a min with the scene. ALONE\"\n\nofc comes the reply.\n\ni step inside the safe. the bag seems oddly familiar. then i see above. theres a shaft open. i jump up and climb it. the shaft is big. as i get inside it i see a body shot in the head. that face..\n\ni suddenly snap and jump down\n\nthen i see it. right beside the bag is a gun. i pick it up. its empty.\n\ni remember.\n\ni put my hand inside my pocket. inside is flexible helmet. able to whitstand high pressure and bulletproof to some extent. it has a dent in it.\n\ni remember\n\nhe shot me at the back but my headgear saved me. but the blow made me unconscious. all i did was put it inside my pocket before i passed out.\n\nbut why. my fingerprints. the bag. bought in the black market. the head gear made by me in my garage\n\nbut when did i do this shit. i never did this. MY garage? i live in a apartment. \n\nwhatt..\n\n\"you done?\" i hear the chief.\n\n​",
"It is another morning I wake covered in newspaper clippings… I’m sure I had thrown these away. Wait, how did I even get here? I have a bed, but on the odd occasion I wake on my living room floor surrounded by newspaper articles. Their topics read, “Masked Thief D strikes again!” or “Great Detective D solves another decade old cold case!”\n\n… something along those lines.\n\nIn every photo, they always cover their faces so there’s no way to know who those two actually are. Though, I think what they do is pretty cool. Maybe that’s why I always write stories like these.\n\nI should clean this up, it’s almost coffee time.\n\nAt about 10 am, I always have myself a cup of coffee. It’s the first and last time of the day that I do, but there always seems to be less and less each day. Until a morning like today I show up and it’s all gone. I don’t keep track of how much coffee I drink so I often think nothing of it. Maybe I just forgot to grind more since yesterday. Except I live alone and there’s always 3 mugs hung on the dish drying rack. When did I even buy those other two? Oh well. The earthy aroma of freshly ground coffee is all I can focus on right now. That and my laptop calling me from the kitchen table, it says to me, “A new story awaits.” Just kidding, computers can’t talk. Not yet at least. I sit my cup next to the laptop, then lift its lid and sign in. On the desktop was a document I titled, “The Madrigal of Thieves and Men”.\n\nI’m proud of that name.\n\nIn it I wrote a story of a detective who searched day and night for a thief that he could never find. But it wasn’t the goal of the thief to hide, he did it because he enjoyed the competition. He would steal and devise traps, only to see if the detective could solve the crimes. They were each other’s greatest rivals and maybe even greatest friends. As it would get to the point not even the detective wanted to catch him anymore, he only wanted to continue playing the game of chess that only they could partake in.\n\nI won’t lie though, I borrowed a lot of what I wrote from real life. The escapades of Masked Thief D and the adventures of the Great Detective D. That’s why I always kept a lot of the newspapers that had articles on them. But never would I fall asleep reading them, I find them far too fascinating to do that.\n\nThere are a lot of strange things that happen every day, like waking surrounded by newspapers or feeling like I share my home with multiple people. Sometimes I find my clothing and shoes soaked in mud and water, or like that time I found my laptop left on. And I never leave my laptop on. But the biggest thing I never questioned… Was when did I buy this house? I’ve just been living here for as long as I can remember. In fact I can hardly remember much of anything these days. Wait… I remember I spoke to a therapist once, and he said I may have Dissociative Identity Disorder and he said I should write a letter to my other personalities to see if they would respond. Where did I put it? I spring to my feet and run to my bedroom. On the dresser was two letters. Grabbing the one on the left it read, “Yes, I live here with you.” Signed EDD. And the other read “I too share this abode with you.” Signed WED.\n\nEDD? WED? Their initials?\n\nThe three of us live here, together, but where? Wait… our initials. WED is one of their initials, the others was EDD, and mine is ARD. \n\nWED, ARD, EDD.\n\nIf I take only the first two initials, then it would be…\n\nWe.\n\nAre.\n\nD.",
"Crouched here, in front of her dead body, I force myself not to cry. The bastard who did this is around here, watching me. He has to be, because he always sends me a letter making fun of the way I act at one of his murder scenes.\n\nPulling her onto my lap, I take a deep breath. Even with her throat slit, even with her belly gouged open—she’s still beautiful as ever. Especially in her dress. I wasn’t supposed to see it yet, but I don’t think she’d mind. I’m gonna lose it if I keep looking at her, so I jump to my feet and start searching the room.\n\nIn an hour, we would’ve been walking down the aisle, our family cheering as we bonded our souls eternally. Instead, she’s dead, and I’m rummaging through empty drawers, scrounging for a clue, any clue. Part of me wishes I’d never got involved with this monster, but I had to. We’re on opposite sides of nature, destined to battle until one of us falls.\n\nBy the time I find the clue, which is just a letter, my sadness has grown into anger. My teeth are gritted, fists are clenched. I’m gonna get this bastard, and after I beat the hell outta him, I’m gonna toss him in jail. Uncurling the note, my eyes go wide.\n\n*I think I finally know who you are,* it says. *You’re me.*\n\nThose words slam me like a train, and I’m flooded with visions of her murder. Of me breaking down the door, pulling out the knife, stabbing her in the belly. Her screams. Her terrified screams laden with betrayal. This doesn’t make any sense, but I immediately know it’s true. The killer I’ve been hunting—well, it’s me.\n\n*Good, good! You finally get it. I’m happy to meet you, brother,* a voice says. *We only need each other in this world, so don’t worry at her—she was nothing more than a problem.*\n\n“You…killed…her…”\n\n*We killed her,* the voice replies. *God, her screams! She was so scared, begged to know why we were doing this. That was awesome, wasn’t it? Heh, she never even saw it coming.*\n\nSnatching my pistol out its holster, I press to my head. The voice screams, wondering what the hell I’m doing, and while I desperately wanna hammer the trigger and end my life, I know that’s too easy. This other side of me wants freedom. Wants to be the dominate personality—so I’m gonna make sure I’m locked away. Forever.\n\nI pull out my phone, calling the police.\n***\nThis might've gone a bit off-prompt, but I hope it's good! If you like this story, check out my sub r/longhandwriter or my [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BryceBealWriter)",
"Avery pulled the collar of the expensive wool jacket up in an attempt to block the biting wind. He stood outside of a small concrete building in the center of a large clearing. Concrete towers equipped with large spotlights and guards with rifles nervously watched the small entourage of men approaching the small building.\n\n\"Are you sure this is a good idea?\" Warden Jensen asked fidgeting with the large ring of keys hooked to his belt loop.\n\n\"We need to figure out where the rest of the bodies are, Warden. I can't think of any other way.\" Avery replied, his eyes fixed on the thick steel door. Two muscular guards flanked the warden and Avery, each had a white knuckled grip on their billy clubs.\n\n\"No point in delaying any longer.\" Avery nodded toward the door. The warden pushed the key into the lock and turned it eliciting a sharp metallic click. The steel door swung open smoothly with barely a whisper. The interior of the concrete building gave them a reprieve from the howling winds. Avery slipped out of his jacket and hung it on a plastic peg fixed into the wall. A guard sat behind a concrete desk with two computer monitors and watched the group enter with a keen eye.\n\n\"Warden,\" he said respectfully. \"No weapons, no food, no watches, jewelry, chewing gum, glasses, belt buckles, shoe laces, pens, pencils, or recording devices.\"\n\n\"It's alright, Crawford,\" the warden said, \"Just let us down.\"\n\nCrawford pressed a large red button on the desk and a section of the back wall split open revealing a small elevator.\n\n\"After you,\" the warden gestured to Avery.\n\nThey entered the elevator which unlike normal elevators it didn't have floor buttons.\n\n\"Which floor?\" Avery asked jokingly.\n\nThe warden's expression remained fixed in a permanent nevrous scowl.\n\nThe doors slid closed and after a brief second the elevator lurched and began its descent.\n\n\"How deep does this go?\" Avery asked.\n\n\"Twenty floors.\"\n\nAvery let out a low whistle.\n\nThe elevator slowed to a stop and the doors slid open with a chime. A long narrow concrete hallway illuminated by rows of flourscent bulbs stretched before them. At the end of the hall was a small steel door.\n\nAvery's polished leather shoes clicked against the concrete as he approached the door. He was grateful for the distance, it gave him time to gather his thoughts. Although Avery had helped put Darrel away, he had never seen him. The warden fished around for another key on the ring and unlocked the door.\n\n\"I'm going to lock the door behind you. When you're done just knock.\"\n\nAvery nodded and stepped into dimly lit room. A thick panel of bullet proof glass separated the room into two sections. Two plastic chairs bolted into the concrete floor sat facing each other on opposite sides of the glass. Avery took his seat and tried to peer into the gloom. A dark silohuette shifted on the other side.\n\n\"Darrel?\" Avery asked quietly.\n\nA non-commital grunt was the only response.\n\n\"Do you know who I am?\"\n\n\"No. And I don't give a shit.\"\n\n\"I need to know where the rest of the bodies are. The families need closure,\" Avery leaned forward in his chair, eyes straining to pull out any details of the man on the other side of the glass.\n\n\"Why would I?\" The figure paced just out of the light.\n\n\"Maybe we can arrange some better accomodations? Maybe get you into gen pop.\"\n\n\"I'll just kill them until they put me back in here. I like the dark,\" he rasped out a chuckle.\n\n\"We found your cabin. It's only a matter of time until we find the bodies ourselves,\" Avery's patient tone was slipping.\n\n\"Did I break the record yet?\"\n\n\"Record?\"\n\n\"Body count.\" The bluntness of the words hit Avery like a hammer.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"How far am I off?\"\n\n\"By three.\"\n\n\"There are four 50 gallon drums buried within 500 feet of the cabin. They are buried deep enough that your metal detectors won't find them. Just dig, you'll find them. Make sure the papers know the count.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" Avery said weakly rising from the chair. He slowly walked to the door, his fist raised ready to knock.\n\n\"You're welcome, Avery.\"\n\nHearing his name gave him pause.\n\n\"I never told you my name,\" Avery said looking back over his shoulder.\n\nA pungent smell tickled at Avery's nostrils. \"What the hell?\" Avery gasped as pale grey smoke filled the chamber. The room began to spin, as darkness crept into his vision. He threw himself at the door pounding against it frantically. \"Help! Somethings wrong!\" Avery wailed.\n\nThe warden stood behind Crawford's shoulder watching Avery on the monitors gasping for breath inside the cell.\n\n\"That was a hell of a gamble, warden,\" Crawford said.\n\n\"It paid off. Get the DA's office on the phone and tell them about the bodies. When he's out get him back in his cell and we'll see if he can give us anything more tomorrow.\"\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​"
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[WP] You are a therapist with a special power; You are able to communicate with the nightmares of your patients to gain a better understanding of their affliction. One day, a nightmare comes to you for counseling.
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"The Nespresso machine had well and truly failed this time. No amount of swearing at the coffee pods helped. Liz had changed the water twice, and purged the valves. It ended with her grabbing a penknife and ripping the pods open manually to feed the grounds to the last-ditch drip filter. The rudimentary machine remained in the corner brewing diner-levels of fluids against anyone’s better judgement. The rest of the office followed the theme; soft pattern carpets, miscellanious wood panelled walls, little bizarre modern-art sculptures standing amongst cactuses? Yeah, this was Dr. Levin’s psychoanalysis office for sure. The room got bonus points for ‘built in the sixties’ and an extra combo for ‘fourth floor university campus’. \n\n“Oi, Liz. Hey. Wake up ‘gal. Your coffee’s ready,” said the intruder. It didn’t help, Levin remained out for the count. Hell, the manifestation protocol had been followed, hadn’t it? The good Dr. Elizabeth Levin should be able to hear her, surely? Ah well. Even the best can’t beat sleep deficit. \n\nThe intruder wandered to a cactus and picked it up. They definitely still fell to the floor correctly and bounced off the carpet so the Manifest was working and she wasn’t ghosting her way around, which was a nice change. Maybe a little more force would be required to get the good doctor awake from her place snuggled on the sofa. Option 1 - shake the doctor awake while making ghost noises for dramatic effect. Option 2 - generous application of cold coffee. The intruder chose, and rifled through most of Dr. Levin’s desk whilst waiting for the coffee jug to cool sufficiently for use. Mostly crap. Some juicy files. A diary. Hell, yeah. Let see into the dark deep secrets of Elizabeth Levin’s life. Turned out it made for dull reading, and was mostly wrong. The intruder dropped it in disgust, took her feet off from the desk and got to work. \n\n“Apphufh!” \n\n“Awake now?” \n\n“What in the holy fu- ah. Oh.”\n\n“ ‘Oh’ sounds about right, Liz.”\n\n“Is that you, Inca? Go away. I don’t need your shi- aaaht. That’s fucking hot! Okay, truce!” Dr Levin progressed to the fully vertical. Her blanket dripped Arabica. “Jesus Christ, woman, get ahold of yourself,” she said to her assailant.\n\n“We’ve got problems, Liz. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”\n\n“Inca, I have thirty other patients. I can only interview them at night, okay? And their human part’s only awake during the day. I can’t fit you in. Physically, I can’t. Go.”\n\n“How d’you expect to keep treating them in your state, huh?” asked the Nightmare intruder.\n\n“Ugh,”. Levin sat back on the sofa and dropped the blanket. Did she have a spare shirt here at the office? Yeah. Yeah, she did. “Just leave off, Inca. I can handle it, please. Just stop.” \n\n“No, Liz. You need to hear me. They’re searching for the Manifest, you know. Right now. They’re pissed as fuck.”\n\n“I know. Okay. Message received. Can you go now? Please?” \n\n“No. It’s bullshit.” The Nightmare grabbed the diary off the desk. “This. This thing’s bullshit.” \n\n“Inca...look,” said Liz. “Stop whining and help me, then.”\n\n“You hate this job. You’re scared shitless. And what...you really gonna fuck Dan? Dan? Seriously?” Inca threw the diary aside and it thumped somewhere out of view. “Hey, you hearing this? You neve-“\n\n“I have a plan.” Levin moved to the desk, turned on the lamp and unlocked the bottom draw. She took out the Manifest, and a thin file. “If I quit this job and ignore Dan then will you help me?”\n\n“What d’you mean? How?” asked Inca.\n\n“Yes, or no. Will you help? I promise. No more therapy.”\n\n“Well, yeah,” said the nightmare-girl. She sizzled.\n\n“Then here. Here you go. Take it. If you manage to kill them all, I’ll quit. Promise, pinky-promise even.” The penknife lay closed, wobbling on the table. Inca stepped up to the desk.\n\n“All of them? All thirty patients’ terrors? All their nightmares in the realm?” she asked the good doctor.\n\n“And all the ones who want this, too.” Liz tapped the Nightmare Manifest.\n\n“All thirty. And the entire Black squadron. You want them all dead?” \n\n“Yep,” said Levin. \n\n“Is it stainless steel?”\n\n“Well hell yeah it is.”\n\n“Hmm.” Inca flipped it open, which hurt like hell. Swiss Army. Those bastards made the good stuff. The steel hissed and she licked at the burn absently. “This’ll do, Liz. Real physical steel. Burns pretty bad. But don’t think you-“\n\nDr Elizabeth Levin turned off the Manifest. Her world lost a pen-knife.\n\n“Thanks, Inca”, she whispered to herself, “and don’t spill the coffee again.”\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] Events that are often considered once in a life time events, (i.e. winning the lottery, new ground breaking scientific discovery, ect.) are suddenly a daily thing you.
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"`The following is so so rough. I wanted to \"just write\" tonight, and this prompt stuck out at me so I just started typing. This would be a rough rough draft from someone who is not a writer (but wants to practice). This is simply my idea for how someone could approach this I suppose. I apologize ahead of time for poor grammar and punctuation. Thanks ;)`\n\nA hurricane can be a very peaceful event. In fact any escape from the normal hum of everyday life can can be exhilarating, exciting even, despite what otherwise might seem like the crashing down of the sky… or the nearing of ones death.\n\nWhen every day is filled with excitement, that becomes the norm. That norm becomes something lesser, and new heights must be reached, or at the very least striven for.\n\nWater was pooling into the living room of Jason Haleford, and he sat like an island at the center of it. The winds were pulsing, if that was possible, and the windows of his small home were bending impossibly inwards. “*Balloons*”, he thought, “*balloons only moments from bursting*”.\n\nFrom the corner of his eye he pulled mentally at his front door. Certainly he had some kind of power, of that few would disagree. *Could he not simply WILL the door to burst in towards him?* The thought scared him, but excited him at the same time. The door made no movement, short of the regular shuttering that only the winds could claim credit for.\n\nFriday Jason had been pulled from the wreckage of plane crash. It was all so cliche he thought now. *“Only one survivor, blah blah blah*”. The truth of it was he died in that crash, or at least he might as well have. Jason was gone, having given in before impact and accepting his fate. They had time to think about those things, unfortunately. The descent was rapid but felt like minutes, and he was sure that all he would want to have told people before he died he could have. In fact, he was sure he would have still had time to say goodbye to the man next to him and then brace for impact.\n\nSaturday, he had pulled the TV from his wall and threw it across the room. Every channel was recounting the incident and stating his name over and over again, so much so it no longer felt like it belonged to him. He was an actor playing the role of Jason Haleford… Director of Marketing… Single… seat 14A… sole survivor.\n\nThat same day he had stepped out his front door, the one he could decidedly not control with his mind, and was shot by the grieving husband of 27B. He had not yet had the chance to experience survivor's guilt when this man attempted to impress upon him just how guilty he felt Jason was. Six shots were fired, and while one shot did graze his scalp, the others found their way around him. The winds, swelling in urgency now, whistled through those same holes a song of guilt assumed, if not felt.\n\nThe large window near the door was the first to go, and it very much startled Jason more than he had expected it would. The rain was coming in sideways and all his thoughts were being driven from him with the maddening roar of hurricane whatever the fuck it was called… Jason could no longer recall.\n\n“*There it is, I can in fact still think during all of this it seems*”, he thought to himself.\n\nBy Sunday, his house was surrounded by camera crews, and many of them were yelling at him from the street behind the wall of men in uniforms keeping them at bay. The police had come to his door, trying to convince him to come with them to a safer location. It was from them that he learned his lottery ticket was selected, along with his co-workers, as the winner of some amount of money. Jason was not at all aware of how those things worked. A co-worker asked if he wanted to go in with $10 and agreed, “*I guess I can try anything once*” he had responded.\n\nThe fact was, Jason did not believe the officers. On that day he felt they would have told him anything to try and convince him to leave the house. It was probably only a matter of time before they forced him out anyway. His neighbors must have been plotting his assassination at that point.\n\n“*Henry, that was the name of this hurricane!*”, he recalled suddenly. He had seen it in the news a few days before his flight home. The police had even told him that it was nearing, but what the first rain brought that day was a cleansing that had many of the reporters fleeing for shelter.\n\n“*Yesterday was Monday*”, Jason thought to himself, counting backwards as much to make sure he was not mistaken as he was attempting to distract himself from the swirling madness of nature that surrounded him. Yesterday most had fled as it was clear Henry meant business. His phone received an alert that his neighborhood should be evacuated, and in fact he had seen many neighbors leaving that night, but Jason could not get over the idea that something else was happening.\n\nHenry was leaning on the house now, and Jason could feel the weight of him above and all around. The lights flashed before going out entirely, finally giving in after holding out longer than anyone would have imagined they would. The burst of light when they did finally go was a taunt flung at him like a frustrated gesture. His neighbor Paul was struck and killed by lightning yesterday in the midst of fleeing with the others.\n\nIt was all so ridiculous. The thought of so many events occurring one after the next had but one rational explanation as far as Jason was concerned. He had simply died in the plane crash, and this was some holographic projection of a state of limbo. His mind, or soul, or whatever it was that sat deep behind his eyes was desperately reaching for the next path. If I die in this projection, do I get another one?, he thought. The roof came to him swiftly with the promise of an answer soon.\n\nThe sound of a helicopter woke him up from a deep sleep. His arm a pillow, the bed a very wet carpet, the blanket a now soggy and bent piece of drywall folded over him. Henry was gone, or at least his anger, replaced now by his gentle tears.\n\nJason stood, making his way to the front yard. The door was gone, as were the windows, but otherwise the walls were intact. Even the roof that had come down on him seemed to have just been a small portion of drywall, and that had somehow largely missed him.\n\nAside from the rain, all was quiet this morning. “*No, there are birds*”, he thought, looking for one to match the chirping to. As he reached the street and looked out across the neighborhood, he looked back at his home in despair. His home remained intact, almost whole in fact, but for as far as he could see in any direction no other house remained. No portion of any structure stood more than a few feet from the ground.\n\nSunday was Henry’s day, and it seemed now that Henry had no intention of providing a new path for the force behind Jason’s eyes. He would instead find himself once again thrust into another day of clawing at something he could not find.\n\nMonday had arrived.\n\n*edits: quick updates re: a few wrong words, typos etc.*"
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[WP] "I wonder who the real king was supposed to be", you ask yourself sitting upon the throne.
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"Brindle kicked his feet back and forth against the golden trim of the throne. \n\nHe was covered in so many layers of fur and silk that he barely felt the impacts. It was like he was kicking pillows, but the pillows were all wrapped around him. Brindle Leton had never been a very healthy child, so even as a young man his limbs were thin and without mass of muscle or fat. \n\nThat was the real reason he was all wrapped up, so that no one noticed how the king went from being a stong-jawed warrior to a skin-and-bones teenager. Really, beyond a few facial features, the two looked nothing alike. \n\n\"The king does *not* kick the throne, your majesty.\" \n\nBrindle stopped the kicking and spared a glance up at the face of his advisor. He kept forgetting the man's name. It was Jungren or Jungan or something. He was older, slightly stooped, and had basically been the voice of 'No.' since he'd been pulled into this charade. \n\nHe really didn't understand what was going on. He just knew that a lot of men with scary weapons told him he had to pretend to be the king. \n\n\"The ambassador from Veylas is here, My King.\"\n\nBrindle tried to remember the rushed lesson on speaking like the king, causing him to pause for a long time in preparation.\n\n\"Very well. You may show them in.\" Brindle smiled. He'd sounded good there. Very authoritative. Still wish he knew what was going on, though.\n\nBrindle leaned over toward Jung-something and tried to catch his attention.\n\n\"Hey, is seeing this ambassador a good thing or a bad thing?\" Brindle kept his voice as low as he could.\n\n\"Bad, your majesty.\" Jungren's face flickered for just a moment, showing something dark beneath his advisor's mask. \"Very, very bad.\"\n\n"
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[WP] Your party of adventurers just took on a mission that will be critical to saving the world. Your leader sent someone to obtain the magical sword, someone to obtain the book of spells etc. However, to your dismay, he gave you an overly simplistic task.
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"Our band of adventurers is known as The Sacred Flames. My name’s Talan, I’m a barbarian. I’m good at breaking things, so they usually set me off on the tasks where something or someone needs to be broken. It happens a lot, to be fair, or I’d be out of work. Our work usually involves some catastrophe or plague inflicted on a town or something, maybe a city. We’ve been known to dabble in world-ending calamities as well.\n\nToday we got a call to headquarters. Seems that we’re about to go into the world-ending sort of mission. There’s usually some big asshole at the center of our missions that needs to get his ass kicked, and I’m ready to go.\n\nThey sent our rogue out to infiltrate the enemy’s camp and find out what their plans were. Our bard’s on his way to run a distraction for him, and our paladin is going back to his church to seek knowledge from his ‘God’.\n\nMe? Well, they asked me to sweep the floors in the garrison. What in the hell kind of job is that to give to a barbarian that’s armed and ready to take out their entire goddamned population! I needed some help to write this letter, but this is my resignation from the Sacred Flames… and my application for membership in your group. I know where the flames are based, and I know where they’re going to be attacking. You need me. I’m going to- \n\n[The rest of the page is stained with blood. The man writing this probably realized what was going to happen, and was taken care of.]"
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[WP] A group of cultists summon a demon in the basement of a modern art gallery. A fatal mistake they would soon regret.
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"The police stood all around the gallery. The entire department had comeout in force along with swat. Fbi was already on scene. Agent Sheer was in charge of negotions as per usual but his training had not prepared him for this. \n\n“Galifax what can we do to make you leave the gallery.” Agent Sheer yelled through a megaphone.\n\nA roar spilled out from the gallery and rolled over everyone. Some fell, others stumbled, Agent Sheer winced. After a small pause a deep voice slithered out of the gallery. “Nothing could make me leave this treasure trove, agent Sheer. This Picasso is worth 70 million, this Matisse is worth 30 million. Why would I abandon such riches? Why could even donate some paintings to mueseums and write them off when I do my taxes.” \n\n“Damn it.” Sheer muttered. He motioned for a man to come forward. He was the leader of the group that had come running out of the gallery when the police arrived on scene. He was drapped in long black robes that covered his gangly frame. \n\n“Why, why would you summon a dragon? You know the laws.” Sheer said\n\nThe man twisted his hands before speaking up. “We thought it would be fine. We are just a bunch of kids that get picked on. A dragon could change all that. We didn’t think that he would stay in the gallery.” \n\nSheer shook his head. “Fools! Any average creature with access to the high art market would know this gallery is a goldmine.” \n\n“We didn’t know. We thought it would go for the town bank.” cried the cultist\n\n“Damn it!” Sheer yelled he paced around for a little while letting his anger build. He stopped pacing and grabbed the man by his robe.” I have a dragon sitting on over 200 million dollars worth of paintings. If he asks for an appraisal we are finished.”\n\nThe cultist was crying now. A big snot bubble burst as he shrieked “What?” \n\n“No one is going to reapraise those paintings, once Galifax figures that out he is going to be enraged. The value of art comes from prices slowly rising through reappeaisals. He is going to burn down the whole city when he realizes that the value of those paintings is essentially fixed.” Sheer let go of the cultist. The cultist fell on the ground in a tangle of snot and limbs. Sheer pointed at the sad pile of fleash that one could’ve called a man “You better pray to whatever elder god you worship you little cult bastard because if we don’t find an appraiser who will deal with him we are dead!”\n\nGalifax voice rose once more out of the gallery “ Sheer are you out there?” \n\nSheer started sweating. His hands trembled as he brought the megaphone to his face. “Yes Galifax, I am here.” \n\n“I’ve logged onto my Ireplacable account.” \n\nSheer’s heart skipped a beat. “Ireplacable , thats the website that keeps art traders up to date on auctions and such, right?”\n\n“ Yes. I always pay attention to the local sections, I have better luck there you see. Now, the local section is telling me about an auction happeing in a few days.” \n\nMy god, he knows about the local art scene, Sheer thought to himself. Sheer took a few deep breathes before responding “Yes, that is right. Why do you ask?” \n\n“Well I will need to reappraise these paintings before then. Who knows how much these paintings are worth now?” \n\nSheer’s hands fell limp at his sides. The megaphone slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground. Then hes knees gave way and he fell. “My god, we’re dead.” He whispered. The officers and agents gathered around Sheer did their best to rouse him from his state. A minute full of silence, tension and fear passed. \n\nThere was a large crash that came from the gallery and broke the silence.“ Sheer!” roared Galifax.\n\nSheer woke from his fear induced stupor. He turned around to the various officers and agents gathered around him. Fear was stamped across all their faces. It was stamped on his face too. Sheer got to his feet and wiped the sweat off of his face. “Tell all nearby airbases to get all available wings ready to launch. Do it Now!” \n\n“Sheer! Do not test me,Sheer!” Galifax bellowed \n\nSheer picked up the megaphone wiping a few specs of dirt off of the cone. He took a deep breathe and exhaled out of his nose. “ I am here Galifax, sorry about that. I fell.” \n\n“Sheerrrrrr, finally.” the way Galifax held the r sounded like thunder. “I need an appraiser, I don’t need to tell you that I can’t contact the one I usually use.” \n\nSheer’s heart was beating louder. It only got louder as Sheer brought the megaphone to his lips. By the time he spoke his heart drowned out all other sound. “You know”, Sheer licked his lips and pushed a long sweaty strand of hair out of his face, “you know I can’t do that.” \n\nSheer clutched his chest, it was like a bomb was going off every second. He didn’t hear the roar. He couldn’t his heartbeat was too loud. He felt it though, in his chest and legs. The windows of the gallery broke. Then the roof cracked and out came Galifax with all his fury and fire spewing from his mouth. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nEdit: Just realized I miss read demon as dragon god damn it. "
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[WP] You are the unluckiest person ever and surprised you're still alive. You find yourself being chosen to save the world from total destruction from aliens. Turns out you actually saved the world with your bad luck.
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"Dr. Lauren walked into the interrogation room to see Richard Hertz sitting at table. Their eyes met and she instantly felt a sense of revulsion. It was not just the scars though he had more than any living person should. Nor was it the BO, though that was not pleasant at all, in fact she had never smelled anything like it. Nor was it the facial expression which brought to mind the driver of a panel van sitting across the street from an elementary school. No it was the combination of all those things and much more. However she was a professional and she put all that aside as she sat across from him.\n\n“I’m sorry” Richard said in a squeaky voice that grated on her nerves.\n\n“Why are you sorry Mr. Hertz” she spoke as calmly as she could. \n\n“I find you very attractive so I guessing you find me revulsive. If you weren’t so attractive or maybe if you were caucasian instead of Asian I think you would at least be able to stay in the room with me. It is just standard protocol for my life. Dad said I can expect it to continue till I’m in my 40s and then it will lessen enough for me to procreate.”\n\nDr. Lauren looked at her file. “It says here you were an orphan Mr. Hertz.” \n\n“Yeah I am. Parents gave me up as soon as I was born. The Curse follows the first born son, Its Maschovist that way I guess. Dad gave the orphanage a letter to give to me on my 10th birthday. It kind of described ‘The Curse’ and told me things like after age 40 it will let me pass on the curse to my son. In the letter he also apologized, told him he lived with it for 40 years and it was someone else’s turn and not to try and find him. The bastard.”\n\nDr. Lauren wrote some notes on his egocentric nature.\n\n“This Curse. What exactly is it. I’ve read some of your history. You have been in a lot of accidents but you’ve survived them all. Including being the only survivor of ...” she looked at her notes “two airliner crashes. You sound kind of lucky.”\n\n“Yeah it was all in the letter. Dad called it a curse but it seems like its more than that. It is like an organism that wants to keep me alive and functional. It does not want me to die cause that would end its … influence… purpose… life I guess. So I’ve learned to adjust. I can’t really stop bad things from happening to me but I can make sure no one is around me when they do. I try to minimize collateral damage. For example if I see a scaffolding creaking over a sidewalk I try to time my passage so not many other people are around me. “\n\nDr. Lauren extended her notes with his details about his god complex.\n\n“So why not just not go around the scaffold”\n\n“It would have happened eventually. I get the feeling that my curse works on probabilities. If there is a 5% chance of something going wrong then it will with me in range. The scaffold would have fallen eventually anyway.And if I walked around the scaffold onto the street it would have made a car crash more likely and might never have happened. I consider myself a hero.”\n\n“Does a hero use blackmail?”\n\n“Hey I don’t blackmail anyone. So a few airlines pay me not to fly and a few sporting events pay me not to come. I’m not going to argue with free money. I eventually lose the money anyway so I feel like I have a bit of a robin hood effect.”\n\nDr. Lauren made another note about ‘hero syndrome’. She really did not like this guy. \n\n\"If you are so unlucky have you considered suicide?\" She shocked herself asking this question. As a Psychiatrist she knew suicide was not the answer but for some reason she felt the world would be better off without Mr. Dick Hertz... Is that name real? Did his parents really name him that? Even they did not like him.\n\n\"In my early teens I tried. Didn't work out.\" He said showing her the scars on his wrists. \"But you know it isn't so bad. The secret to happinest is low expectations and I got those.\" \n\nA voice came through her earpeice. She looked in the two way mirror. “Sir I dont think this is a good idea. This guy is unstable I really dont think he should be our ambassador to the visitors.” She paused for a second longer then returned her attention back to Richard.\n\n“I assume you’ve heard the news reports about the alien ship that is approaching earth.”\n\n“I have. “ He smiled a bit. He was missing at least 3 teeth all in the front.\n\n“This might have come as a surprise to you but the US government would like for you to meet with the visitors and act as an ambassador. They expect you to discuss our orderly surrender and an orderly transistion into a slave species.”\n\n“Oh. So I guess you want me to help them as much as possible.” Richard said.\n\n“Exactly” she smiled, surprised at his acceptence. “We will provide you any resources you need.”\n\n“OK. I can do that.” Richard smiled. “Im going to need about 50 feet of rope and a year’s supply of twinkies.”"
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[WP] You lead perfectly normal lifestyle, until you get into a car accident that damages your brain. You wake up in a hospital and discover that you've had fake memories this entire time, and the brain trauma awakened the real memories. Memories of an international assassin.
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"My eyes burst open and I looked around rapidly. What the hell? A second ago I was driving...wait...no I was in Budapest? I had a drink and...What the fuck is going on? I rapidly hammered on the \"call nurse\" button. My mind was reeling, I seemed to be remembering two lives, two starkly different lives.\n\nThe door opened and the most nondescript man I'd ever seen walked into the room. He was of mixed race, tan but not dark. He stood about 5'11 and had an average build. I noted though that his hands were pox marked and scarred. The hands of a fighting man. I could tell by his posture he was a soldier, probably ex-special forces. I felt like I knew him... All of these thoughts rocketed through my head in less time than it took for him to finish saying \"Hello John, nice to see you're finally awake.\" \n\nJohn. That was my name right? No, it was something else...I had many names? What's happening? \"Listen\" my voice was a croak, I stopped to drink some water, \"Sorry, I guess I haven't spoken in a bit. Now, what the fuck is going on? What happened?\" My voice was still a rasp, I drank more of the cool water. \"I'm sure you have a lot of questions John. You always seem to.\" The nondescript man chuckled, \"Hell, we all do now that I think about it.\" \n\nHe sat down and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, smacking them into his palm to pack the tobacco. He took a cigarette and lit it, taking a drag. \"That's better.\" He sighed \"Oh, forgive my poor manners, you want one?\" He held the pack out open to me. I shook my head \"No. Actually, I'm not sure you're supposed to be doing that in here. This is a hospital. Besides, I think you were about to tell me what the hell is going on.\" I took another long drink of water. The man smiled and said \"You were always stubborn John, I like that about you. Though unfortunately it looks like you've held on to some of that famous impatience too. Oh well, I guess that was too much to hope for anyway.\" He paused and took another drag off his cig. \"You're an agent for a government organization. A nameless organization with no official recognition. We take big problems and remove the more troublesome elements.\" \n\nMy mind roiled. No. I'm John. I'm a mid level manager at Target HQ. I'm not some kind of spy....I knew it was false as I thought it. John was who I was before. Before the accident. John was dead. The fog in my mind began to lift as though the sun were burning it off. \"Ah. I see. So, who killed me?\" The bewildered young man no longer stared out through John's eyes. \n\n\"That\" my commanding officer said \"Is just what you're going to find out.\"\n\n________________________________________________\n/r/SirLemoncakes"
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[WP] You're a Birthday Genie, in the room of a little girl holding a cupcake with a blown out candle. "I wish I was home," she says with tears in her eyes.
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"Hearing those words breaks the genie’s heart because that’s the one wish he cannot grant, for it would go against another he's already granted. He stares at her, knowing that no matter what he says, she won’t understand. She’ll simply hate him, and believe he’s a monstrous villain who stole her.\n\n“This is your home,” he says.\t\n\n“*No it’s not!*” she yells, throwing the cupcake on the ground. “Home is where mama and papa are!”\n\nHe takes a deep breath, fighting back tears. If only she knew that *they’re* the reason she’s here. That they were junkies who viewed her as a burden, that they wished for him to take her and keep her forever. He’s tried to make her happy, giving her everything she could ever want—toys, clothes, food…\n\nBut what she *needs* is family, and they’ve abandoned her.\n\n“This is your home,” he simply repeats, and when she takes off running, he hangs his head. He’s powerful, but not *all-powerful,* and this is the harshest reminder of that.\n\n***\n\nThis is really short, but I hope it's good! If you like this story, check out my sub r/longhandwriter or my [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BryceBealWriter?lang=en)"
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[WP] You’re cuddling with your girlfriend. She looks at you and says, “I love you so much, Andrew.” You look at her and tell her you love her too. She smiles, then mumbles, “I hate it when you’re Jerry, though.”
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"I love my girlfriend: she's everything I strive to be. Smart, passionate, extremely good-looking: you name it, she has it. Unless we're talking about STDs of course—those aren't included.\n\nDespite my love for her, I had come to a crossroads. There were two paths I could take: one would have everything continue as it was, while the other would forever change both of our lives.\n\nYou see, it was at this moment I knew she was a crazy person. Love her as I did, I knew I needed to do something about this.\n\n\"I hate it when you're Jerry\"??? What the fuck does that even mean? How can you say my name in the previous sentence and then call me \"Jerry\"? Is that intended to be an insult?\n\nEven if she had only said that because she was on some sort of next-level acid trip, the line has to be drawn somewhere. I mean, come on, there have to be consequences to saying something that intensely stupid. \n\nIt had to be intentional. Had to be. She knew this would piss me off. She's looking for a reaction from me. I won't give her one. Does she think this is funny? That this is some sort of game? That it's okay to ruin a perfectly fine evening resting on the couch by saying the dumbest shit she can scrape off the top of her head?\n\nI tried explaining this to her. How it's unacceptable. You know what she said to me? What she had the audacity to say? That I was \"manic\". That this was \"exactly what she was talking about\". That it was like I had just \"flipped a switch\". \n\nBullshit. That SKANK. You know what I told her? I told her to get the fuck out. That she should have no problem finding the door with one of her two ugly faces. Because I don't need her. She's detestable. She's stupid, lazy, and honestly, her ass has been looking a little more flat ever since she took that financing job. \n\nFuck her. I should've left her a long time ago. You know what she said to me the other day? \"Hey Andrew, you're looking great today.\" The name's JERRY, bitch. Try conjuring up the two brain cells left rattling around in your skull to remember it next time.\n\nExcept oh wait. There won't BE a next time. \n\nGreat, now I need to take a xanax. It's weird. I kinda miss her already.\n\n"
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[WP] Your superhero name is 'Inferno'. Your costume is coloured red, yellow, orange. Your powers? Water and ice manipulation.
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"The ice was so cold it burned. \n\nIn the shadows of the city’s darkest alleyways, the streetlights shone through walls of ice and flowing water. The backstreet of a seedy bar was littered with frozen corpses. The ice crystals refracted the orange streetlights, as if they were lit aflame. A man drenched in water, pale orange and yellow shining beneath congealed, frozen blood, strode through the streets, a fire burning in his eyes. \n\nThe whispers spoke of him as Inferno, the shadow of the Underworld. In an age of shadowy super villains and shining heroes, there was him, the darkness below the dark. He killed where he wished and none dared to resist. Though he did take prisoners, such instances were rare. The man has the mentality of a soldier in war. \n\nBut he was no villain. His targets were monsters, those who trafficked young superpowered children or built devastating weapons for terrorists. Hailed as a hero by some, hunted by both villains and heroes, he nonetheless had the title of a superhero, a man who protected the cities. \n\nNo one knew where he came from. \n\n——\n\nOnce upon a time he had been a wanderer. The Arabians knew him as the Wellspring, the man who conjured water from the oceans. The Chinese called him the River Saint in their language. The Americans, in their dry, plain humor, called him the Waterman. He was kind and strong, and conjured entire water sources to feed drought-ridden countries and water sun-burnt regions. The deserts receded beneath his touch, as where there is water, there is life. The oases grew cool as his ice powers gave them refrigeration and air conditioning. \n\nBut this was an age of Superheroes, where titanic forces battled in the skies all over the world. And eventually, the hero had to take a side. He joined the heroes, and so began a career of glorious victories and proud rescues, until one fateful day. \n\nIt is said that the hero of the Waters died in battle, against the League of the Dark Gods who came to the Heart of the Lights, the vast harbor city that gave birth to the greatest legends and myths of the Superhero age, the home of the Waterman. \n\nThat battle scarred downtown forever. An enormous crater of fire, surrounded by an ice wall, laid right in the center of the city. There, three dozen gravestones were marked. Two were laid in the center of the the monument. \n\nFireheart and Waterman. \n\n——\n\nThe Inferno walked through the dark alley, leaving frozen graves behind him. He clutched in his hand a silver locket, and opened it. The photo of a young woman, her hair lit aflame and her smile illuminating even the faded picture, stared back at him. \n\nAs the snows fell on the city, the ice burned even colder. ",
"60 kilometers out from Boston lay Raincity. Actually it's name was Highwile but in the last 20 years it just rained. A lot. Which just makes it more ironic that its most well known hero was an individual called Inferno. He was known as the strongest fire hero the city had ever seen. The funny thing was though, that nobody had seen him manipulated fire or flames. Actually people had only seen him punch bad guys and the like. So why was he known as a fire hero. It is really simple. People could not believe a hero named inferno wasn't a fire hero and just presumed that he was so strong that the use of his abilities was never needed. And his costume was coloured red, yellow and orange with a lot of drawn flames. How could that not be a fire hero.\n\n What they didn't knwo was that he used his abilities everyday. Although not fire abilities that is. You see the hero called Inferno's name was actually Gregory Boots could not for the life of him manipulate fire. No his specialty was the power of ice and water. So why call himself Inferno. It had to do with Boots' time at the hero acadamy more specifically one class, because he had never been accepted and it was the only class he had managed to sneak himself into before being kicked out and banned from the premise. \n\n\nThe class had been about the element of suprise or more precise the power of information. The teacher, a well known hero called Riddlerman was showing how frightening it can be not knowing the nature and scale of an opponents powers. Boots took this to heart and made himself the hero persona Inferno. \n\nBut how did he keep this secret hidden. Plain simply Boots was in fact one of the most powerfull water users in the world. So he made it rain almost everyday. That way nobody would think twice about a criminal who slipped, nobody would be able to hold him down because his \"sweat\" made it so he could always free himself. Now because of the weather many flame villians would't dare to commit crime in the area and as for the water villians Boots just made it look like he punched through their ice and water abilities when in reality he just manipulated it so it dispersed. \n\n​\n\nAs such Inferno was known as the strongest fire hero who had ever lived and all it took was just a little deceit and a great costume."
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[WP] You're a siren and love singing, but ships keep crashing through your roof and it's starting to get expensive.
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"*Dear Diary,*\n\n*Today, another ship has crashed into my roof again. I was wondering if my singing was that bad that these folks they called \"sailors\" began to protest my singing abilities? Although The Voice Neptunia says otherwise, these people have to stop crashing their vessels into my very home a bit less frequent. Do you know how much does it cost to bring a contractor team from Neptune Constructions and Repairs Company?*\n\n*Diary, do you remember that person who sells cabbage in a cartoon I watched long ago? I think we have something in common.*\n\n​\n\n*Written in November 6**^(th)**, 2018*",
"A voice clear as summer rain. A face fair as the astral plane. Her bosom peaked like mountains bare, her nipples frigid in the cavern air. \n\nThe Siren weeps in the ocean's deep, her sobs so rough she hardly speaks. \n\nWhat could trouble the Siren so? This heavenly woman with the eyes of a doe? A siren's voice must be used. A silent siren stands abused. \n\nThe Siren weeps and sobs with grief, as another ship cleaves the reef. \n\nWe all know the Siren's song, but will we hear it before too long?\n\nEven a siren with all her gifts, will sink with grief like all those ships.\n\n________________________________________________\n/r/SirLemoncakes"
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[WP]As Sol turns Nova, and Terra is swallowed, you reminisce over the planets long history, as one of the few who know most of it.
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"\"Archivist.\"\n\n\"Engineer.\"\n\nWe both nodded at each other, the thin film of the glasses over our eyes keeping us from truly making that contact we enjoyed, our eyes once more looking up at the sky. The sun was already reaching those final stages. Time was not much on our side, but we were fine. Our job was already done. \n\n\"Everyone made it?\"\n\n\"Aye. Just the rest of us left.\"\n\nIn the distance, off to the right, we saw the smoke trail as it poured out to the heavens, the last ship abandoning the doomed planet. \"Take a good look at it Engineer. Last time you'll ever see one of your toys. How does it feel?\"\n\nThe woman beside me laughed, just shaking her head as she watched it go. \"Ahhh, fuel efficiency on its not quite good enough, damned design could have used some more work. But, its doing its job. Thats all that matters. ... I made sure your library was on there. Should be enough to teach the young ones when they wake.\" She fell down to the ground, arms crossed behind her head as she stared up, just watching and waiting with me now. \n\n....\n\nA long pause between us, before she finally turns to me. \"Hey, Archivist. You never did finish your story.\"\n\n\"Hmm....which one?\"\n\n\"About the originals, never did get around to what my first was like.\"\n\nI let out a loud laugh. \"Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any. Ol' Nathaniel was an absolute bastard of a man. Once he had his mind set on something, you wouldn't be able to change it, not with other facts, not with money, not even with the promise of something different and better on the horizon. If he thought the best way through a situation was a tank, by the Aspects, he was going to build you that tank. No frills, nothing fancy, but he'd make it the best damned tank you'd ever did see.... He was a lot like you in that regard.\"\n\n\"Was he now?\" A soft chuckle into the air as she crossed her legs, a soft sigh echoing throughout the world around us. Truly, it was the calm before the storm.\n\n\"Mmhm. He was also the first of us to fall. Someone who could bend their mind a little bit more managed to get to him. Actually got a trap set up within one of his vehicles, took him down, took up the mantle. That was....well, quite a few centuries before you came around. Though I will say, you've been one of the best we've had.\"\n\nSilence carries on around us for a few more moments. I can tell already that our time is about to come to its end.\n\n\"Archivist?\" I turned to look over at The Engineer, listening closely. \"Did we...do alright? Our people, that is. Did we do all we could?\"\n\nI turned away, just laying back and thinking. Going back all those times, all those years, those many wars, those many times of great wonder and sadness.... I think back to the time when the first Aspects managed to quell the invasions from the sea. I think back to when The Scientist and his fellows made those breakthroughs. I think even back to recently, when our Astrologist noted the impending disaster. At the end of the day, regardless of what we've done....our people were safe.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n​"
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[WP] After years of buying human teeth, the tooth fairy has decided to move to a more lucrative profession, dealing in human organs.
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"You rub your tongue slightly on the tooth that has been wobbly for what feels like a year. It has only been a week or so really, but you just want it out. Your parents have teased you.\n\n“I’ll get my hammer to it and knock it out”, your dad has joked. \n\n“I’ll tie a piece of string to it and slam a door shut”, your mum has said in jest. \n\nEither way, you know your parents wouldn’t do any of these things. They just tease you because they know how much this wobbly tooth has been annoying you. \n\nFeeling peckish, you ask your mum for your favourite snack: “Mum, please can I have my peanut butter and bread, please? I’m peckish”. You have just had your dinner and bed time isn’t far away. \n\n“Of course,”, your mum happily replies. She’s good to you. The best. \n\nNot long after asking, your mum hands you your peanut butter and bread. The bread is white, covered in thick peanut butter right up to the crusts, which are solid. It’s fresh bread. Your mum likes to bake it so she knows what’s in it. \n\nYou take a bite of your peanut butter and bread, starting at the crust, though this is unusual for you because you prefer the softer part of the bread. You feel something move. It’s the tooth. It’s free. Finally, after what feels like forever, it’s out. You quickly navigate it to the front of your mouth as not to swallow it. \n\nHolding your hand flat out, you spit this small-sized tooth into the palm of your hand. It’s tiny and very difficult to believe that it has been the cause of your problems. Today is the day, that one wobbly tooth that has been bugging you for such a long time has finally fallen out. \n\n“Mum! Mum! My tooth! Look!”, you cry out in excitement. \n\n“Wow, aren’t you brilliant?”, begins your mum, “let’s save it and put it out for the tooth fairy to collect later this evening”. \n\nDoing as your mum says, you pass her the tooth for her to wrap in a blanket of kitchen paper, ready for Miss Tooth Fairy to come and collect later. \n\nSeveral hours pass and you begin to feel tired after watching the TV, still excited over what the tooth fairy will bring for you and relieved that the tooth is finally free.\n\n“Bobbi, time for bed”, you hear your mum say. “Okay, mum”, you reply. You hurry to brush your teeth and prepare yourself for bed. You know that it’s important to take care of your teeth for when you get your big adult ones, they won’t regrow and they are not replaceable.\n\nYou settle into your bed, getting comfy, ready to sleep. It doesn’t take you long before you doze off as you are exhausted from the day playing with Rolley, your new pet guinea pig.\n\nHowever, not long after you have dozed off, you’re awaken. There is this flying object entering your room. You can see its back as it flies through the door of your room and finds itself next to you. It’s Miss Tooth Fairy. She has wings so delicate and light, colours soft and innocent and navigates gracefully through your room with a slight sparkle radiating from her silver dress.\n\nYou want to greet her. Though, you’re not in a state to be able to move. You can see what’s going on but you’re unable to react. It’s almost as if all you can do is watch, so that’s all you do: watch. You watch Miss Tooth Fairy find her way to you getting closer and closer.\n\nThen, suddenly, she turns to face you. She has an evil look upon her. Her eyes are deep red, her face is angry. She is looking mean. She is on a mission and you know it. You can recognise the signs of anger. Big, deep red eyes stare at you, calculating you and wondering what to do with you. You can sense trouble but can’t say anything. \n\nSuddenly, Miss Tooth Fairy pulls out a pick axe. It’s small, that much is true, but the point is sharp as it twinkles in the low light of your room. It’s set on a dark wooden stake and she grips it with some force. You don’t understand, you always thought Miss Tooth Fairy was friendly, kind and giving. But this isn’t how she appears. She’s getting closer.\n\nBefore you know it, she’s above you, you’re staring at her, she’s hovering right in front of your face, staring at you with this sharp-pointed silver pick axe. What’s she going to do? What’s happening?\n\nBefore you have a chance to blink, she charges at you. Right at you. In fact, she’s aiming that pick axe at your right eye! She’s not stopping. \n\nAs you lay there, motionless, unable to speak, all you can feel is this sharp pick axe in the perimeter of your eye as she precisely works her around your eye socket. Blood starts to poor all down your face. There is such a lot of it, you’ve never known this much blood before. \n\nShe continues. You continue to bleed. It goes dark. You can’t see anything from your right eye. Darkness takes over. But you can still feel the blood dripping down the right side of your face onto your fresh pillowcase. \n\nAs Miss Tooth Fairy continues with her cutting, you feel a force pull at you. She’s pulling your eye out! It’s so very painful, incredibly painful, pain you’ve never felt before. You just want to scream, even though you can’t. You feel one more pull and there it is, your eye in her hands. She holds it above you, you can sense it, as she lets out a sinister evil laugh. \n\nThen, nothing. Silence. You feel the blood pouring. You don’t know want to do. All you can do is lay there. Then it stops. Everything stops. You feel yourself struggling to breathe, your breaths becoming fewer and fewer with more time in between. \n\nIt feels cold. You feel cold. You take one last breath and that’s it. You’re no longer alive. Miss Tooth Fairy has not only stolen your eye, she has stolen your life."
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[WP] After being cursed with a spell that turns everything you touch into gold, you have finally crafted a golden exo-suit that allows you to live a somewhat normal life. That is, until you meet your arch nemesis: the guy who turns gold into bees.
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"Fucking. Dave.\n\nWhat a prick.\n\nHe's the Antichrist of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.\n\nHe's the chocolate chip cookie that is actually raisins.\n\nHe's the still doughy pizza crust of street pizza.\n\nSimply put, he's a minor annoyance.\n\nBut, like any minor annoyance, you get too annoyed by it and it becomes a major annoyance.\n\nI'm rich, I'll just put it that way. I can turn shit to gold, what do you expect? If you've read the fable of King Midas, you know it ain't all it's cracked up to be. I didn't have to worry about turning my friends and family to gold though, not like I was gonna get touched by a girl, anyway. And I ain't got any friends, not real ones, anyway. And I'm don't really get out the house, anyway.\n\nAnyway.\n\nI just finished this suit. The therapist said, from a distance, that I should try and get out more. Gee, worth every cent, huh?\n\nI got some chief engineers on this. If it was already gold, I couldn't turn it to gold, could I? All you needed to do was cover it in gold so I couldn't touch it and it'll be fine. I gave them the gold, they made the suit, they got payed in gold. I gave them a little extra, in case an accident happened, they'd keep it hush-hush. I'll leave it up to you to guess if something did happen. This suit is how I plan on interacting with the outside world. I'm sitting here, like some retarded Lex Luthor, in this giant-ass suit, writing this. See what this has done to me? Oh, how I long to be rid of this power. But still wealthy. Very, very wealthy.\n\nBack to Dave. He's been a minor annoyance for as long as I remember. My sculptures, my walls, my...my...gold, turned to bees. Fucking bees. Who wants bees? What is this, the Oprah Winfrey show?\n\nWhenever he turns up, I call the exterminator, and then the police. Partly to remove him from the premises, and partly to stop me from transmuting that mufugga. If it was up to me, he'd be in my garden long ago.\n\nWell, today was the last straw. I got him good, oh yes I did. I taught that asshole a lesson in pranking, cause I pranked him. Scotty and the ninjas ain't got nothing on me! Or, I will have, anyway, after I finish writing this.\n\nHere's how I (probably) did it:\n\nBecause I'm rich, I got a lot of money to blow. So, while I keep track of fucking Dave, I installed this secret trapdoor that lead to a slope covered in olive oil! At the end of this slope is a pool full of honey. Don't worry, it's pretty shallow, he won't drown. But to give him a taste of his own medicine, yeah? There's only one exit from the pool, and once he climbs over that, he falls down! Onto a mattress. He keeps walking, and finds a chicken pen! Again, only one way out, keep going through. There'll be a *tonne* of chickens there. He'll get covered in chicken shit *and* feathers! It'll be hilarious! Because he'll be covered in honey, and the feathers and shit will stick to it! Ha!\n\nAnd *then,* after all this, there'll be only one exit, straight forward, where he'll go down a slippery slide again into a giant pool of salt water this time where there'll be a giant crocodile in there and he'll need to pull of some *major spy shit* to get out of there!\n\nJust joking, I'll get arrested if I do that.\n\nBut there *will* be a pool of milk he'll have to swim across! Why milk, you ask? *Because I'm* ***rich,*** that's why! I can do what I want! Haha!\n\nAnd, after the milk, when he's all sticky and crusty and covered in feathers and shit and very, very milky, and very, very embarrassed, he'll find his way out and I'll give him a lot of money to never bother me again which he'll take because *fuck you Dave, I can't kill you so I'll just have to bribe you!*\n\nAnd, maybe, if he doesn't take the money, I'll just kill him. Maybe.\n\nI'll think about it.\n\nBut, anyway! I'm here, writing this, as I'm waiting for him to come around. Apparently, he's quite close by! Let's see if all goes according to plan...\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\nWelp, he's dead. Oh well. I'll just pay off the police. Oh yeah, I can do that, can't I? Probably would have made this much easier...\n\nI'm missing him already. Poor Dave. His bees were always so charming. I might make a giant gold statue for him, keep him in my memory.\n\nMaybe.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nBrownie points if you recognise the book these traps came from (minus the milk). Hint: The Bond's Name, James Name.",
"My suit erupted into a swarm of roaring insects. The man, crazed, gripped my arm in an encasement of bees. The bees subsequently turned to gold, then back into more bees, then gold again, then even more bees, in an endless cycle. The effort was *draining*, surprisingly. You didn't notice when the transformations were small. But, now, there were so many it left us exhausted. We both collapsed, as if just run a marathon. I wasn't sure who was winning or, even, why this was happening.\n\n\"Hey.\"\n\nThe crazed man remained silent.\"\n\n\"HEY I'M TALKING TO YOU!\"\n\n\"Yeah, so what?\" sneered the strange man. \"You ain't the queen of me.\"\n\n\"Odd way of putting it, but, as I recall, you attacked me *buddy*. I think I deserve some answers.\"\n\n\"Screw you!\" screamed the nutter. \"Walking around all covered in that *crap*. Make a man go crazy!\"\n\n\"What're you on about?\"\n\n\"For years, I've tracked you. A gold clad demon, can turn anything to gold with a simple touch. *Anything*. Metals, fabrics... people. A bizarre skill. The gold your body creates, it ain't like other gold.\"\n\n\"Bullshit.\"\n\n\"It emits a frequency, unique. People like me? We can sense it. If the frequency is loud enough, well... it causes a bit of... *pressure*.\"\n\n\"That's crazy talk. Nutjob\"\n\n\"You know, bees. They communicate nonverbally. Intricate, beautiful dances. There's steps, moves, a song. Like a solo waltz or a tap dance. You see, it shows the rest of the hive complex information without the need to speak about it. Tells them what to do, so they can do what comes natural.\"\n\n\"Ok. And?\"\n\n\"Every piece of gold you generate sends a message. Out to the universe. And it says 'I've changed. Convert me. Restore me.' Except, it ain't that easy, yeah? Not all changes are equivalent. Some of us start the process, others kick the items down the line, and then others more can finish it. Your gold? It ain't done changin'. It needs to become something else.\"\n\n\"Ok... how do the bees come in?\"\n\n\"Hard to say.\" The apikinetic pointed to a figure approaching. \"You'd have to ask this one.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"She comes and turns bees... *into horses*.\""
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Thanks to /u/SolarDubstep for the idea and info about the etymology.
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[WP] After learning the etymology of 'bear' is 'brown thing' and the original name was lost due to the belief it would summon a bear, you become determined to discover it. You do, and the moment you speak the word a bear appears. It politely greets and thanks you.
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"Fucking hell I can summon bears, for ten years I have been searching for the answer. I can now die happy I have solved the greatest puzzle that man has faced since trying to make the second wheel. I will probably die there is a huge grizzly bear in the same cubical was me and it is not a creature known for restraint, thankfully I am in the right chair for a sudden shock. \n\nI wonder if my wife will believe me now when I said I had more important things to do then go to her mothers funeral for I can summon bears. I alone have harnessed the furry power of these creatures and I shall be a benevolent dictator, my clowncil will terrorise and enlighten the world at large. Imagine a world ruled by me and twelve clowns, that will show Bradley who was actually the shithead in school. \n\nI had sort of zoned out for a few minutes and the bears had apparently been haven’t it’s own monologue for he was the bear king, a king of all the bears apart from the communist pandas naturally. I didn’t really catch what the bear said after hello but I’m sure it was interesting something about world domination and creating class divisions. It’s amazing how much this bear talks he doesn’t even seem to breath just keeps letting shit fly out of his mouth.\n\nThe bear then asked me my opinion on the situation and I told him in an authoritative and firm manner “Yea Sure” and I had started the greatest and only bear on human war, I fought on the side of the bears because just fucking look at the things I’m not an idiot I picked a winner and was the first human to join the bearmy, and was made tzar of Sweden for my services to Barney the light brown bear."
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[WP] You are a time traveller. While returning from the past, you return to see that modern society, culture and religion, as you once knew it, is now completely based on sightings and encounters of you across the ages.
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"As he stepped out of the machine back in the current year of 2143 with a giant grin on his face, Joshua gave a small chuckle. His colleague, a man born in Israel like him, stepped out from behind the control console absolutely livid and Joshua's face fell. \"What?\" he asked innocently, \"What'd I do?\"\n\n\"What did you do?!\" Joshua could swear that Eiran's ears were spouting steam with how furious he looked, \"Did you never study the religions of pre-21st century civilizations?! NOT ONCE?!\"\n\nThinking back on his childhood, Joshua couldn't fathom what his fellow scientist was talking about, \"Not that I can remember. My family wasn't big on religion, you know. Why? Was it something interesting?\" His grin returned a little as he listened.\n\n\"Something interesting? Hmm... Let's see if these things ring any bells... Curing blindness in several people?\" Eiran's voice rose as he spoke, which would be comical if it wasn't for the vein popping out of his temple.\n\n\"Oh hey, you were watching! Yeah, I met a few people with cataracts and thought 'You know what? I have a field medi-kit. Why not help them out?' They were super grateful!\"\n\n\"Mhmm... Sure! Let's stick with the medi-kit for now, shall we? How about the lepers?\"\n\n\"Wait, are you angry about me curing something that shouldn't even be a thing? Dude, it was just a couple of pills. Lay off, will you?\"\n\n\"Just a couple of... What about the paralyzed guys?\"\n\n\"Now at least a couple of them were faking...so you can't fault me there. That guy with the mat was really putting it on too. Though there was one guy that, I mean, come on... He was so pathetic, I had to reconnect his spinal cord. It was the right thing to do!\"\n\n\"Right...the right thing... By the meatball saviour... What about the bleeding women?!\"\n\n\"Hey, man. You didn't grow up with any sisters, you don't know how hard it is for them when the flow keeps going longer than it should. They get cranky ALL the time, they eat more, they are less cooperative... A simple hormonal balancer fixes it right up and EVERYONE around them is better for it.\"\n\n\"Ok...fine. I get it. You wanted to help people while you were back there. I can't fault you for spreading the love a little. But what about the pointless shit?! Water into wine?\"\n\n\"What? It was a party and I wanted something better than well water. A couple of freeze dried wine tablets later and the party was off the hook, yo! You wouldn't believe how crazy those ancient people can get!\"\n\n\"Feeding five thousand people?\"\n\n\"Nano-bot replicator...\"\n\n\"Miraculous fish catch?\"\n\n\"Simple scan beneath the waves.\"\n\n\"CALMING THE STORM?!\"\n\n\"To tell the truth that was just luck. I looked up at the sky and said 'geez I wish it'd stop storming' and the cell just dissipated. Must have hit a huge cold patch of water. Mind you, it took about twenty minutes. How long were you watching me, man?\"\n\n\"Jesus Christ...\"\n\n\"Christ...Christ... Why does that sound familiar...? OH HEY! Some people were saying that when I passed by towards the end of my trip! I wonder what it means?\"\n\n\"You dense piece of shit. Ever heard of Christianity?\"\n\n\"Uh...Yeah... Who hasn't? It's that stupid religion that caused all those wars and killings and ooooooohhhh I get it now...hmm... Well hang on! I can fix this! I left them thinking I was dead in a cave. Let me just jump back once and I'll tell them to love each other and shit! Hold on!\" Joshua jumped back in the machine and before Eiran could stop him it powered up, sending him back exactly three days after he had left. The flabbergasted scientist ran to his monitoring screen and watched as his colleague took twelve of the most loyal friends he had made to a restaurant. After a few hours, the idiot decided to use his anti-grav belt to rise into the sky before zapping back to the lab. \"How's that for dramatic effect? Let's see them start all those wars NOW!\"\n\nEiran just shook his head, \"I can't believe I'm on a team with you...\""
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[WP] A villager has gone to seek knowledge and wisdom from a legendary immortal known only from stories passed down from generation to generation. Unbeknownst to them, many thousands of years ago the immortal discovered the secret to being eternally high and has not been sober since.
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"The humble villager Orestes had made it to the Bridge of Hope. He glanced at the map's description. Although the ancient bridge was covered in moss and vines, he could still see patches of stymwood used to build it. The map indicated that this bridge was his last destination before finding the reclusive immortal.\n\nHe stepped firmly onto the stable bridge. A bestial cry from behind his head screeched. He ducked reflexively. Orestes felt the creatures claws shave a few strands of hair off his head. He looked up to see the creature guarding the middle of the bridge. It had a sharp beak, a lion's body, and twice his weight. It hrrumphed in dissatisfaction. Orestes did not panic. He clearly remembered the instructions of his trusty map, so he deeply bowed down.\n\n\"I am Orestes, a humble villager! It is my honor be welcomed by the immortals guard!\" Orestes said.\n\n\"Humble villager, few have made it this far. What is your reason for seeking the Immortal Legend?\" The creature asked in a high pitched voice.\n\n\"I seek knowledge and wisdom. That is why I seek the Immortal!\" Orestes said. He watched the creature suddenly eye him up and down. His thin body shivered. Orestes felt like prey waiting to be slaughtered. The urge to flee began to tempt him, but his thirst for knowledge had tied his feet down once again.\n\n\"Humble villager,\" It observed, \"You should turn around. I regret to inform you that the answers you probably seek cannot be found here.\" The frail human looked up in panic.\n\n\"Is the Immortal no longer here?\" Orestes asked. His whole journey would have been a waste if that were the case. The countless dangers and hell he put himself through would have been for nothing.\n\n\"The Immortal is here, but they cannot answer anything right now. You should return to where you're from.\" The creature said. The Immortal was always high and unintelligible nowadays. It had been years since the creature had seen its master sober. The poor villager had wasted his time journeying here.\n\n\"Please let me see him. I have just one question I must ask them, and they alone can answer it!\" Orestes pleaded. He risked everything to come out and ask his special question. Orestes watched the creatures eye lids narrow and felt like his life could end at any moment.\n\n\"If you do not turn around, then you'll have to pass by me. I will not allow anyone to disturb them.\" It said. Orders were orders. Even if the Immortal legend that was never sober, no matter how high they were, they were still the Master and their orders were absolute.\n\n\"Then, according to custom, I challenge you!\" The creature heard the humble villager dare to say. It was surprised that its threatening look didn't completely discourage the villager. The frail human challenged it and that made it angry. It extended its wings and sent a strong wind at the villager.\n\n\"Ahhh what are you doing!\" Orestes yelled. He had rolled back a few feet, unable to stand up to the wind. The creature looked at him with contempt.\n\n\"Will you dare still challenge me?\" The creature screeched. The human couldn't even stand up to a tiny gust of wind. It was already showing great mercy to him.\n\n\"I am no warrior and just a humble villager, why would I challenge you in a battle of strength?\" The creature heard him say. The human was frail and definitely no warrior. Hey, wait a minute, how did he get through all those danger and traps? The creature immediately put up its guard, ready for anything.\n\n\"As a humble villager, I will challenge you to a humble and fun game of checkers!\" Orestes said. Checkers was the only thing he was good at in life anyways. So he grabbed the checkerboard and its pieces he always carried with him from his sack to set up on the ground.\n\nThe creature watched him lay out the board and set the pieces down, piece by piece. There was something calming and normal about it all. It suddenly felt that maybe everything shouldn't be settled with violence and death. Maybe checkers was the right way to go about in life? The creature could see the love and care, the professionalism, the loving gaze in the villager's eyes, as if the villager's only worth in life was to play a fun game of checkers with someone else."
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[WP] Even bad men love their mommas.
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"Thinking back about 20 minutes ago, the flowers actually smelled like roses, not tulips, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about, what I’m here to talk about is the stupidity of the bank teller. The bank teller had the balls to say no with a 22 gauge pointing straight at his face, even after I shot the 3 security guards. I needed to hurry up, so I give the teller a warning shot and that’s when he finally began to unlock the vault. I looked at my watch, I had 4 minutes. After the vault gave a click, the door opened and I started filling my bag with money. After I filled it, I looked at my watch and realized I had 1 minute left. I raced to the entrance of the bank and surveyed the people inside and out; I waited another 5 seconds before I saw my opening, I rushed to my car, threw my stuff In and started the engine. I put the car in reverse and got out onto the highway, hearing sirens coming from the place I just was. Checking my watch, I made sure I hade enough time to make it, and I did. When I reached exit 26, I got off. I headed to my house, dropped off my haul and headed to her house. Arriving on the street of her house, I parked far away so that she would suspect nothing. Along with 20 other people, I crouched, waiting for her to come in. After sitting there for 30 seconds, I heard the door knob rattle. With the lights off, she opened the door and flicked the light switch on. That’s when we all sprang up, yelling “SURPRISE”. My mom seemed shocked, but she closed then door normally as I headed over to her, I wished her a happy birthday and gave her my present. Off in the distance I heard those oh so familiar sirens and assured my self I made a clean get away. Self assurance failed when the sirens blared right in front of the house.\n————————————————————————————————\nI have no idea if This was good or not, first time writing here.",
"I killed again. \n\nThe sweet taste of fear and pain was still in my mouth as I walked away from the house. As I looked down at my watch I noticed it had only been a couple hours, but to me it felt like a lifetime. \n\nImages still danced in my head of the beautiful chaos I had just created. A womans scream changing into a gurgle as the knife pierced through her lung. A child in a corner crying as they watched in terror knowing it would soon be their turn. A surprised father walking through the door as I was just finishing my work. The blood. Beautiful, dark, and dancing on the floors and walls. It was perfect. \n\nAs I drove home, adrenaline still pulsating through my veins, I remembered I had to make a stop. Annoying. This was my moment, my time to relish in my brilliance, and yet I was still compulsed to pull over and enter the store. \n\nIt was horribly bright in the late night grocery store as I entered. Normally being out in public would make me uncomfortable but nothing bothered me right now. How could it? Today I was a God. The world was in my hands. In MY control. \n\nI rounded the corner of the store and found what I was looking for: flowers. I lingered on some tulips but decided a bouquet was the safer bet, there must be something in there she will like. She was never really satisfied with any choice I made but it would have to do. \n\nI pulled up to my mother's house shortly after; it was small but had a cosy feel to it. The grass was getting too long and the paint a little worn, my father had passed away several years earlier and I rarely had the time to stop by as of late. But tonight I had promised, and so here I was. \n\nMy mother was sitting on her chair, the same spot she always was for as long as I could remember, crochet needle in hand, as she always did this time of night. She didn't look happy with me as a walked into the house. It was probably my dirty shoes, she hates a mess being tracked through her house. \n\nI pulled the bouquet out from behind my back and I swear for a moment she smiled. Really truly smiled at something I did for her. But then her face was cold and dispassionate again. Of course. Nothing could ever satisfy her, I don't know why I still tried. \n\nI don't know what compelled me to speak but the words had already formed before I could help myself. \n\n\"I did it momma, I finally took destiny into my own hands like you always told me to. I finally got a spine and stopped being such a worthless coward. It felt amazing to be the child you always wanted, to stop being afraid of people, afraid of acting, and actually accomplishing something for myself\" I said in earnest. \n\nI waited for her to reply, to say something. Anything. But she only stared at me. Her dull grey eyes borrowing into my soul, killing all the bravado I had just built up. \n\nAnd in that moment everything was ruined. It wasn't enough to impress her, I knew it wouldn't be, but still I came here anyways, hoping, searching. \n\n\"Well?!\" I shouted angrily. \n\nNothing. \n\nI abruptly turned around and left the house. I would try again another night. I would make my mother proud, I couldn't give up now. She would love me back. Of course she would. In fact, I already had another brilliant plan forming as I started to drive away into the night. \n\nIn the cosy little house the mother sat, crochet in hand, surrounded by darkness, save a little bit of moonlight peaking in from the windows. And in that room, the light hit her face in such a way, that it almost looked like the corpse smiled. Almost. \n\n"
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