Split (1)

train · 199k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
	[WP] A serial killer is somehow able to assume the bodies of those it murders. Tell the story of the chief investigator trying to track down the this bizarre case	[ "Please let me know if there are things that I could improve. Expect some spelling mistakes as English isn’t my first language. I hope you enjoy.\n\nDing-dong.\nI jumped at the sound of the doorbell.\nIt had been 3 weeks since I started living in this safe house, but I was still paranoid about every sound. I guess being the next target of a serial killer kinda does that.\nThe police officer who was acting as my bodyguard that day got up. “Don’t worry.” He said “I’ll get the door.”\nAs I tried to calm down I heard the conversation in the hallway.\n“Good morning commissioner. Come on in.”\n“Morning Frank. Can you go and help James with the patrol? Bill got stuck in traffic, and I don’t want you guys to walk around here alone. I’ll keep an eye on the place while you’re out.”\n“Sure thing boss.”\nLeonard Winters entered the living room and greeted me while throwing his coat over a chair. “Hello, how are doing you today?”\n“Could be better.” I admitted. “I’m still quite nervous about all this.”\n“That’s understandable.” Leonard said. “It’s not like this kind of stuff happens every day. But I’m here if you want to talk.”\n“Thanks.” I replied. \nThe commissioner had become a good friend these last 3 weeks. He came to check up on me every other day and often told me how the case was going.\n“Any activity at my house?” I asked.\n“Nothing that’s more suspicious than the postman delivering the newspaper.” He answered. “But we are still observing the place 24/7 in case someone tries to get in.”\n“It must be weird to search someone who keeps changing their face.” I wondered aloud.\n“It is indeed a challenging case.” Leonard responded. “And whoever is behind these murders just sees it as a game.”\n“What do you mean?” I asked.\n“The letters we receive at the police station are getting easier to decode. You know, the ones in which they mock us for being to late to save someone.” He said.\n“The ones in which they give the name of the next victim.” I remembered.\n“Exactly.” Leonard replied. “We still have some of the earlier ones that we can’t read, but the last one was cracked in a week. It’s how we were able to get you to a secure location before something bad happened.”\n“I guess I’m quite lucky that our face-thief started going easy on you guys.”I said. “It was probably quite a shock when you realised that they assume the identity of their latest victim.”\n“We thought we had them at that point.” Leonard said sombrely. “We had camera footage of the seventh murder, we could clearly identify the culprit and the seventh letter confirmed that victim was a target.”\n“We had a team break down they front door and we were ready to arrest our would be murderer.” He continued. “It would’ve been perfect...\nIf they hadn’t been killed two months either.”\n“After that fiasco we used the name of the sixth victim as a guide to decode letter number six.” Leonard said. A frown on his face. “It even said that they were going to give us a hint, and that they hoped they would look good on the video.”\n“Speaking of decoding, I’ve got some fantastic news!” Leonard exclaimed his face brightening. “I was able to solve the previous letter. I know the name of the previous victim, so I’ll know what the killer looks like right now.”\n“I wanted you to be the first one to read it.” He said, pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to me.\n“I hope you’re able to catch whoever it is soon.” I replied as I started reading.\nThe original text was a confusing mess of letters and symbols. I was surprised that Leonard had been able to translate any of it.\nThe translation at the bottom was easier to understand.\n\n\n“To the bumbling police officers who are chasing me,\n\nI hope that you are still enjoying our little game. There have been times when you were so close to capturing me, only to look in the wrong direction. Lately however you have been running around completely clueless. It saddens me that our game is losing its excitement. I have therefore decided to make the next target extra challenging for myself. I wonder if you can solve this letter before I kill them right under your noses. Good luck.\nThe next target is: Leonard Winters.”" ]	1
	[WP] You're a Alien Scientist decoding the Golden Record from NASA and you along with your coleauges try and Figure out the info in it	[ "\"No transponder code. No visible plate numbers. No life signs.\"\n\n\"Maybe the crew is really small?\"\n\n\"It was sterilized before launch, I'm seeing traces of... cleaning chemicals?\"\n\n\"So the litterer has a compulsive cleaning disability? Have you checked for any unstable isotopes?\"\n\n\"No, nothing. No toxic waste of any kind. It's not a dump-and-run.\"\n\n\"Any power sources?\"\n\n\"Dead for at least a decade.\"\n\n\"What cargo does it have?\" \n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"What do you mean nothing? It's gotta have something?\"\n\n\"Well, there's a radio dish and a giant fuel tank. And a tiny compartment for garbage. Some heavy elements, nothing too rare.\"\n\n\"What's the propulsion system like?\"\n\n\"You're not going to believe this... chemical propellant.\"\n\n\"That's quaint. Tank's empty, I take it?\"\n\n\"Yup.\"\n\n\"Any guesses how long it's been drifting along?\"\n\n\"Well, no more than a light year, based on deterioration of the hull.\"\n\n\"The trajectory should be easy to determine, then.\"\n\n\"Yeah, it's from a yellow dwarf system nearby, unless a passing ship dropped it off.\"\n\n\"No flights were chartered through this sector in a century.\"\n\n\"Smuggler operation then?\"\n\n\"Probably.\"\n\n\"Any idea of what this thing is supposed to be doing out here?\"\n\n\"None. All I know is that this unlicensed, unmanned vehicle is a navigational hazard. And considering how long it's been out here, the fine won't be pretty.\"\n\n\"Check that star system first?\"\n\n\"Yes, let's. See if any fools claim responsibility.\"\n\n\"Compound interest rates truly are the future.\"", "The data waves in the first stream were incomprehensible. Every second brought with it some form of graph, so wide by so high, but the data it contained was nonsense. The shapes moved to and fro, changing their composition and appearing and disappearing without explanation. The second stream was very obviously audio, and although some of the sounds seemed reminiscent of something they might have heard on their worlds and in their void chambers, much of it seemed designed for minds not their own. A sort of lilting frequency played over and over again, rising and falling like the call of something wild, yet it was neither the voice of a living thing nor a sound of the natural world. So very curious.\n\nThe dust lining the probe spoke of aeons of travel. By now, its designers would have either shed their forms for something new or disappeared into the void with every other sentient species. The Caretakers had called it the Sweeping -- the great motion of cleansing that combed the galaxy, claiming all intelligent life at one point or another. It was a term that the Children had inherited. Doubtless, the makers of this thing had fallen prey to it as well.\n\nEach mind drone received the bubble that contained problem of the disc and added their own protein chains to it, creating a comprehensible thought pattern that was then passed down the line through the various sets of mandibles. Where one argument or conclusion proved false its chain was removed, the gap left behind ready to be observed and interpreted by the next fresh drone.\n\nBackwards and forwards it went, meandering its way down the line. All the while the Listener waited, casually aware of the back-and-forth path that it took until finally the salivatic bubble was returned to it. Its nerve tendrils reached out into the mass, poking and prodding and pondering the complex array of arguments contained therein. The drones had reached a conclusion. The square contained data intended for a sensory organ that the Children did not possess -- a kind of light receptacle that created a 2D representation of their 3D world. They had long considered that such an organ may be possible, perhaps even extant, and it put to rest at once various conundrums that they had observed in the ruined worlds of fallen lifeforms. That was good. But the data meant nothing to them, and that was neither good nor bad. It was nothing. This thing was nothing; just the wind-up toy of a long since extinct civilisation.\n\nThe Listener's limbs moved at the end of the chamber, removing the disc from its receptacle and humbly replacing it in the probe. Finally, the entire thing was lowered back into space, at exactly the velocity and heading that they had found it at. A puzzle for another species to solve, if ever.", "\"I think I got something!\" I yelled over my shoulder.\n\n\"What did you find?\" Jkalp came to my side.\n\n\"If I run my finger along the rim of this one, it makes noise. Not the sound of my finger on it, but another, unnatural noise from the disk.\"\n\n\"Interesting,\" Jklap nodded, \"but that doesn't seem like the intended use. If we use the pictures we found, we can conclude that the humans don't have sharp fingers.\"\n\nI frowned in thought. \"Yeah, you're right,\" I agreed. Stupid to think they would send a noisy disk to us.\n\n\"Keep at it, you'll figure it out,\" he said, knocking on the desk once with confidence.\n\nI breathed over it, checking its aerodynamics with one of my glands. Woah.\n\n\"Wait, Jkalp!\" I called back to him. He turned expectantly. \"Catch!\" I yelled and spun it at him in the air. He shrieked and yelled,\n\n\"Have you lost your--\" then stopped when he caught it in his hands. He smiled devilishly. \"That was really cool. Can I try?\"\n\nI nodded and he spun it back at me, it soared in the air for longer than gravity would normally permit before falling into my hands.\n\n\"They seem to have made some sort of flying disk! It glides in the air!\" I tossed it back to him. He caught it giddily.\n\n\"What a marvelous invention! I genuinely believed that they would be another species that goes to war with itself but this...\" he tossed it back, hopping up and down as it flew to me, \"They must enjoy their time with one another all the time!\"\n\n\"Yes, and the color is quite--\" I yelped as it slipped from my grasp. It crashed, exploding against the wall into a hundred little pieces. All the pieces fell ceremoniously as the colors gleamed along the walls from each of its pieces.\n\n\"I can't believe I just did that...\" I whispered.\n\n\"Don't beat yourself up, it was a toy from their planet! We got the fun out of it, so it must have been worthless otherwise.\"\n\nI smiled at his confidence, \n\n\"Yeah, you're right.\"\n\n_________________________________\n\nI listened to the [soundtrack on the golden record](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GcwPMeqS97Y&index=1&list=PL4D51474AB7BE5595) while I wrote this. I was gonna write about the music on there, but after giving it a listen I knew I was severely underqualified to write something like that. But I am qualified to direct you to my sub for more stories on a daily basis! /r/Nazer_The_Lazer " ]	3
	[WP] It is your birthday. As you make a wish and blow out the candles on your cake, the cake begins talking to you.	[ "Mark Stevenson took in one long breath and held it, imperceptibly, as he made his wish. The flames on his candles seemed to freeze in place. They almost seemed impatient for Mark to finish his wish and extinguish them. They flickered, and suddenly Mark felt anxious. Like he’d taken up far too much time for these candles. That was a silly notion but it gripped Mark’s soul nonetheless. After all, he sat alone in his apartment on his thirty-fourth birthday. Just him and the cake. And the two flames on the candles (a three and a four -- lighting thirty four individuals candles had seemed like overkill).\n\nHe exhaled and the flames extinguished in the gust. \n\n“Fuck,” Mark sighed as the smoke eddied upward. He’d forgotten to make a wish. Stupid flames. They don’t even have consciousness, why should he have felt like he owed them anything? Retroactively, he wished for a better thirty-fifth birthday -- the implication being that he would have a better thirty-fourth year than he had for his thirty-third. But wishing for a whole year to be better seemed a bit much. He didn’t want to inconvenience… well, whoever made those decisions. God or the Wishmaster General or--\n\n“Genies,” said a voice. Mark jumped in his seat and whipped his head around. The apartment wasn’t large, in fact the previous tenant had been a dwarf and moved out to find a place “with a bit more leg room.” \n\n“Who’s there?” he demanded, not feeling particularly brave. “Who said that? I’m calling the police.” Mark’s voice cracked a bit on ‘police’ and his face flushed.\n\n“Ooh, I’m quaking, junior,” the voice said again. It was masculine and grating and dropped the ‘r’ in junior. “Gonna ask Sally Fitzgerald out to prom later, or are you gonna wait until your balls drop?”\n\n“I mean it,” Mark said. He grabbed the cake cutter in one hand and waved it frantically around. “I’m armed and I’ll -- don’t try me!”\n\n“Whoa, whoa -- let’s not get wound up,” the voice said, it’s tone a bit panicked. “It was just a joke -- no harm no foul. Just put that thing down, nice and easy.”\n\n“Show yourself first,” Mark demanded.\n\n“I’m right here, numb nuts,” the voice said.\n\n“Where?”\n\n“Turn me around, you friggen moron.”\n\nMark lowered his gaze to the cake.\n\n“Yeah, atta boy. Give me a little spin,” the voice said. With his free hand, Mark slowly spun around the cake. He’d placed it away from himself because the blue-trim had started to sag, and when he tried to fix the situation he only smeared the colors together.\n\n“Alright, there we go,” the cake said. The two layers moved as lips, and the smeared frosting looked even more like eyes. Mark yelped and reared back the cake cutter.\n\n“Hey, hold on!” the cake shouted.\n\n“You’re a talking cake,” Mark said, his voice cracking again. The cake laughed.\n\n“Oh-ho-ho, that never gets old,” the cake said. Mark twitched the cutter forward. “Ah, but it can -- it got old. I just wanna talk.”\n\n“Cakes don’t talk,” Mark said.\n\n“This one does.”\n\nMark considered for a minute, and then lowered the cake cutter.\n\n“Alright. What do you want to talk about?” Mark asked.\n\n“I’m here to talk about your feelings,” the cake said. “Just not in a queer way, you know?”\n\n“No,” Mark answered.\n\n“I mean I’m not a fag or nothing. We gotta talk, just not like the queers talk.”\n\nMark bit his lips as his eyes bugged out. “Oh, wow, that’s um…” he stuttered.\n\n“What?”\n\n“Nothing, just -- I mean, that was a really insensitive thing to say.”\n\n“Fuck, are you one-a-them?” the cake said. “My bad. What should I say? Gays? Or is that bad now?”\n\n“Yes. I mean, no. You should say ‘gay’, but I’m not -- but you shouldn’t say it like that. So, um, yeah,” Mark stuttered. His face flushed again.\n\n“Well if you’re not a queer whatta you care?” the cake asked.\n\n“It’s not -- look, you’re not supposed to do that. It’s offensive to the gay community,” Mark explained. “I mean, what if everyone used the word ‘cake’ when they really meant ‘garbage’?”\n\n“Alright, alright,” the cake said. “Point taken -- I’m from Charlestown, I guess we’re just a little thicker skinned.”\n\n“How the hell are you from Charlestown?” Mark asked. “You’re a cake!”\n\n“I’m a talking cake and you’re looking for logic in that? Are you retarded?”\n\nMark opened his mouth to protest the cake’s use of ‘retarded’, but thought better of it and snapped his jaw shut. \n\n“Look, you said you wanted to talk,” Mark said. “Why?”\n\n“Listen, Marky-Mark, your life is a fucking train wreck and you’re a wicked sad guy. I don’t mean sad like boohoo sad, I mean like the fact that I know about your existence makes my day a little worse.”\n\n“Hey!” Mark protested.\n\n“Oh, what are you gonna do? Debate that little fact?” the cake said. “You’re thirty four years old, no friends, living in a shoe box and about to eat a whole store bought cake yourself. Fat ass.”\n\n“I made this cake myself,” Mark argued.\n\n“Poured the mix from the box and everything. Real hard work,” the cake said.\n\n“Well, I wasn’t going to eat the entire… you.”\n\n“Deep down, you know that you were gonna shovel every crumb in your fat face.”\n\n“I’m not fat,” Mark said.\n\n“Just ‘cause you’re not round doesn't mean you’re not at. How many times did you pinch those love handles of yours, huh big guy?”\n\nToo many times was the answer. Mark sighed, and finally let go of the cake cutter. The cake sighed in relief.\n\n“So, what -- are you supposed to make my life better somehow?” Mark asked, abandoning all hope of sanity and self esteem in one fell swoop.\n\n“Yeah, that’s the gist of it, sure.”\n\n“Are you going to grant my wish, then?” Mark asked. “Use whatever magic that some Southie sorcerer is using to make my cake talk.”\n\n“Magic? Are you retarded? I’m just gonna give you some pointers.”\n\n“Pointers?”\n\n“Yeah, like life advice and stuff. Self-help, dude.”\n\n“Oh.”\n\n“You thought this was gonna be easy? Though it was gonna be a cake walk?” the cake laughed. “Ha! That one gets me everytime.”\n\nMark turned over his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Well? What life advice?”\n\n“First of all, you should probably go to therapy or something,” the cake said. “You’ve got way more problems than I can fix. It's also just good for you, you know? And if you get a lady therapist, it doesn't even feel all that queer. Oh, I mean gay.”\n\n“I feel like you’re just passing the buck,” Mark said.\n\n“That’s just number one. Number two: you gotta stop caring what people think. Just stop giving a shit. You think about what people think about you way too much. You get your panties all tied up about nothing.”\n\n“It’s not nothing,” Mark said. “I just don’t want to be a bother. And I don’t want to embarrass myself -- that’s normal.”\n\n“Dude, you forgot to make a wish because you thought the candles were getting annoyed at you,” the cake said flatly.\n\n“Okay, fine, I have a problem,” Mark admitted. “But that doesn’t solve it.”\n\n“My old man went to AA, they said the first step to solving a problem was admitting you had one. Or some shit like that. Point is, this is progress.”\n\n“How do you have -- never mind,” Mark said, shaking his head. “What’s the solution? I can’t just turn off my thoughts.”\n\n“Think of it like this: you spend a ton of time thinking about what other people think about you, right?”\n\n“Right.”\n\n“Now: how many times a day do you think about other people they way you think they think about you?”\n\n“Well -- never, I guess.”\n\n“Exactly,” said the cake. “That’s the root of your issue. Let’s test it: why do you live in a shoe box?”\n\n“Because I don’t make enough money to move.”\n\n“And why don’t you make more money?”\n\n“Because I’m afraid that asking for a raise will be embarrassing. And I’m afraid that leaving my job will inconvenience other people.”\n\n“Jackpot! Now, why are you fat?”\n\n“Because I don’t go to the gym.”\n\n“And why not?” the cake implored.\n\n“Because I’m afraid of people judging me for being fat,” Mark said. \n\n“Those beef-chunks pumping iron -- do you think they give a shit about people judging them?”\n\n“Well, no, but they aren’t fat,” Mark argued.\n\n“Dude, what, you think they just popped outta their ma at two-fifty of pure muscle and benching one-eighty?”\n\n“No, I guess not,” Mark admitted, hanging his head.\n\n“You know what you’re gonna do now?” the cake asked. Mark looked up and shrugged. “Tomorrow, you’re going to ask for a raise. And if you don’t get it -- oh well. Start looking for another job. And if that sucks for your boss -- fuck him, he didn’t give you a raise. And after work, you’re going to go to the gym and get wicked fucking sweaty. And you’re gonna do that until you’re jacked.”\n\n“But--”\n\n“No buts. Listen to me: people are not paying attention to you. They don’t care about you. They don’t think about you. Unless it's your ma or someone who knows you, no one gives a shit. Live life for you.”\n\nMark nodded. “You know, you’re right.”\n\n“Hell yeah, buddy,” the cake said. “There’s just one last thing you need to do.”\n\n“What’s that?”\n\n“You gotta throw me out,” the cake said. “Can’t risk a better tomorrow for a slice of mediocre cake.”\n\n“Oh, yeah, I guess,” Mark said. He stood and picked up the cake. With a half a step he stood at the trash can. He stepped on the pedal to open it and held the cake out over the trash. He hesitated.\n\n“Go on,” said the cake. “Toss me out.”\n\n“It’s just -- well, you’re pretty motivational. I feel like we bonded a little.”\n\n“We did, but you gotta toss me.”\n\n“You’ll be okay?”\n\n“I mean, I’m gonna stop talking. It’ll just be regular cake in the trash. But yeah, it won’t hurt or anything.”\n\n“Okay. Well, thank you.”\n\n“No problem.”\n\nMark began to tip the plate.\n\n“Oh, wait, wait!” the cake said. Mark leveled the plate again.\n\n“What?” he asked.\n\n“Just, before you dump me in -- is your garbage man a black?” the cake asked.\n\n“Uh, I’m not sure. Why would that even matter?” Mark said, then furrowed his brow. “Wait, did you say ‘a’ black? That’s sounds--”\n\n “I’m not racist I just have this thing -- I don’t like touching them.”\n\nMark dropped the cake, plate and all, into the trash and let the lid slam close.\n", " \n\n‘I’m too old for this,’ I think as I gaze at the expectant faces of my family. My cousins, aunts, uncles, siblings and Parents.\n\nIt’s my 15th birthday and they are all expecting me to blow out the candles. The cake was chocolate with a dark chocolate coating.\n\nI internally sigh and am about the candle out when I hear a voice that I don’t recognize. I look around and try to find the source of the voice but am unable to find it. \n\n“Did you guys hear that?” I ask my family, only for them to stare at me like I was crazy.\n\n“No, sweetheart. Nobody said anything,” my mother replied. I looked at her face and try to see if she was deceiving me in any way. She wasn’t though, she was being honest as far as I could tell.\n\nI hear it again and this time I pay more attention to what it’s saying, although what it says baffles me. It said,” Good Morrow, my good lady. I am Cuthbert the Cake.”\n\n‘The cake? Please tell me that I’m not hearing a cake talk,’ I think with incredulity.\n\n“I most certainly am, my good lady,” the voice, now known as Cuthbert replies.\n\n‘I’m going crazy! I’m having a mental conversation with a cake.’ This is the moment fully comprehend what is happening and begin to freak out.\n\nMy mother breaks me out of my daze by saying,” Sweetheart, you alright? You have been spacing out for the last few minutes.”\n\n‘I have?’ I think before replying, “No, I’m not feeling that well. I’m not feeling that good. I’m going to go lay down, you guys enjoy yourself though alright.”\n\nOnce I had walked out of the room and into the hallway, I had heard an exclamation of pain. I look back and realize that it’s Cuthbert. I turn around realizing that if I told anyone to stop I’d be required to tell them that I had been taking to a cake.\n\n‘It’s not worth it, sorry Cuthbert,’ I think as I walk away listening to the painful wails of a dying cake. \n\nDays later I think back on the event and wonder what could possibly allow me to talk to a cake. Although I can only wonder about the reason." ]	2
	[WP] The secret island of New Zealand, kept secret in a conspiracy among the world's geographers	[ "\"So,\" I said to my friend, \"I was thinking about going on vacation this year.\"\n\n\"Oh?,\" he laughed, \"Getting tired of all the hustle and bustle of the big city?\" \n\nWe lived in a small town called Battle Mountain, Nevada. It was an old joke of ours to call it \"The Big City\". \n\nI responded, \"Nah, I just want to see a bit of the world, explore a little.\" I walked over to the fridge and grabbed a beer. \"You want one?\" \n\n\"Nah, I'm good.\" he replied. \"Doctor told me I've got to cut back a bit. That is, if I want this gut to cut back a bit!\" He laughed uproariously at his own joke. I liked that about him. \"So, where are you planning on going? Aruba? Jamaica? Possibly Bermuda? The Bahamas?\" he kept his voice level and his face straight. \n\n\"No, no. I was thinking somewhere mountainous over tropical. I want to do some hiking you know?\" \n\nHe nearly broke as he replied, \"Oh, come on pretty mama.\" At the look I gave him he exploded into laughter. \n\nI couldn't help but laugh myself. Honestly more at his laughing at his own joke than anything. \" Actually, I was thinking about New Zealand. Where Lord of the Rings was filmed.\"\n\nI noticed my friend suddenly get very quiet, and very reserved. \"Where? I don't think I've heard of it.\" \n\nI was surprised, \"New Zealand? South of Australia? Lots of sheep, mountains, and spiders?\"\n\n\"Nope, never heard of it. Let me look it up.\" He took out his phone and searched Google for 'New Zealand' \"Nothing. I found a Scandinavian island called Zealand. That what you were thinking about?\" \n\nI took a sip of my beer and looked at his phone. Sure enough, no results of New Zealand. \"Wait right here.\" I set my beer down and grabbed an old map from my Grandad's day. I came back and unfurled it across the table. \n\nI pointed to New Zealand on the map triumphantly. \"See? Right there! New Zealand.\" My friend looked troubled. \"It might be one of those things that map makers put in to stop plagiarism. What were those called? Damn, on the tip of my tongue.\" \n\n\"A paper town? Surely not a whole island. Besides, I know Lotr was filmed there. What the hell's going on here?\" \n\nAbruptly there was a loud knock on the front door. I let my friend know I'd be right back and to keep looking on google. Another knock. Louder this time. I looked through the peephole and saw several men in black suits. One was holding a badge with FBI written in bold letters. I opened the door. \n\nThey swarmed me as soon as the door opened and put a bag over my head. Someone kicked me in the side. They must have coated the back with...something...I.....I passed out.\n\nI woke up to the bag being torn from my head. A single light swayed back and forth from the ceiling. I saw a man sitting across from me smoking a cheap cigar. \n\n\"You know things you shouldn't Mr. White.\" He puffed on his cigar before continuing \"Dangerous things.\" \n\nI assembled my wits and loudly said, \"I demand a lawyer! I have a right to legal council!\" \n\nI saw him smile languidly. \"Sorry Mr. White, that's not the game we're playing here. Officially, you died the moment you were dragged into this building. The dead, have no rights.\" \n\nI took this in. What the fuck was happening here? This was some Borne shit. \"Listen, please...I have a life, friends, a family. What do you want from me?\" I was starting to panic. \n\nThe man in the suit smiled and said, \"Why, Mr. White we just want to send you on vacation. To New Zealand.\" He looked like the Devil sitting there, smiling and wreathed in smoke and drifting lights.\"Thing is, it'll be more like a working holiday. And you'll be working for us.\"\n*************************\nI will return to finish this. Feels like a three parter.\n*************************\n/r/SirLemoncakes" ]	1
	[WP] Humans don’t reincarnate. You have evidence that you’ve reincarnated.	[ "The high priestess with the red lipstick dropped her polite 'just a minute' finger, looked up at the Minotaur in the pinstripe suit, and flashed him a dazzling smile. \"What can I help you with?\"\n\nHe coughed and looked down meaningfully. Confused, the high priestess leaned forward to follow his look and met my eyes over the counter.\n\nHer eyebrows shot up. \"Oh! Hello, little lady! what can I help you with?\"\n\n\"Hi.\" I wrestled my textbook out from underneath my arm and offered it to the high priestess. \"I think here's been a mistake.\"\n\n\"Hmm.\" She took it from me and read the title with a puzzled expression, tucking a wisp of golden hair behind a perfect, pointed ear as she did so. She looked back to me without changing her expression. \"I'm sorry, I don't understand. What kind of mistake?\"\n\n\"I think I've been reincarnated,\" I said.\n\n\"Oh!\" the priestess smiled again. \"Well, I'm sure we can get that cleared up!\"\n\nHer tone and expression said, 'I'm sure I can help you see why that's impossible.' It was the same tone my tutor had used. It annoyed me.\n\n\"Open it.\" I said, perhaps a little too forcefully.\n\n\"OK,\" the priestess said, and opened the textbook to the bookmark I had placed inside. She read through the page silently.\n\n\"I'm not sure I understand,\" the priestess said. She turned the book to me, showing me a picture I could have drawn from memory. \"Do you think you're her?\"\n\n\"I'm sure of it,\" I said. 95% sure.\n\n\"Ah,\" she replied, flashing the minotaur a reassuring smile over my head. \"Well, ah... you do realize Aubrey Ironheart was a Human?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" I replied, and I was a bit disappointed in myself for letting the impatience into my voice. \"If she were an Elf, it wouldn't be a mistake, would it?\"\n\n\"Young lady, it's biologically impossible for a human to...\"\n\n\"Be identified for reincarnation,\" I said quickly. \"But theoretically, it's possible for a human to be reincarnated, right?\"\n\n\"Well, yes, that's technically true,\" the priestess said, cocking her head in a placating way, \"but it would require being reincarnated into a Human body. AND,\" (she added quickly, cutting off my next remark before my mouth had quite opened to speak), \"while I recognize that you are Human, it would also require a Human Holy Reincarnator. Of course, there's no such thing as a Human Reincarnator.\"\n\n\"No, it wouldn't,\" I insisted. \"It would just require that the Reincarnator establish an aural link with a human, which is possible.\" 90% sure.\n\n\"I... don't think that's true,\" the priestess said, \"but even if it was, how would the Reincarnator establish the link without being able to identify the human?\"\n\n\"There have been several cases of Reincarnators using physical touch to establish aural links with... you know what? Look;\"\n\nI turned around and pulled my shirt up. I heard somebody gasp. Give it a rest, buddy, I'm eight years old.\n\n\"Can you see?\" I asked. I wasn't sure if it was up far enough, but it would feel weird to take it completely off in a public office.\n\n\"Yes, you can put your shirt back down.\"\n\nI let my shirt drop and turned around. \"The birthmark matches exactly. Exactly.\"\n\n\"Yes, but...\"\n\n\"And I was born nine months after the night of reincarnation,\" I insisted.\n\nThe high priestess was starting to look a bit frazzled. Behind me, the minotaur cleared his throat.\n\nShe sighed. \"OK, look; I'll have you take an auragraph. Just be aware that it's probably not going to match hers, okay?\"\n\nI sighed in relief. \"Yes, please, thank you.\" She motioned for me to step out of line, and let the minotaur know that somebody would be right with him.\n\nThe next two hours were a bureaucratic mess. I got to stand in front of the auragraph machine, blinking at the bright purple flash; then they sat me in the lobby for a long time while they ran it and checked the results. To pass time, I thumbed through my textbook.\n\nAubrey Ironheart in full desert fatigues. Aubrey shaking hands with an amputee. Aubrey in the war room with Bush. And the big one; Aubrey at a gala wearing a dress with a low back, so you could just see her distinctive birthmark.\n\nIt wasn't just the birthmark, though, and it wasn't hero worship. Really, the priestess was right that it didn't make sense. An Elvish Reincarnator can't telepathically identify a Human to establish an aural link remotely, and they're kept strictly physically isolated from non-Elves. One would have needed to have skin-to-skin contact with both Aubrey and one of my parents, and establish aural links both times. I didn't blame the priestess for not believing me.\n\nBut Human souls are not like Elf souls; they need rest. The reason I came is not that the pictures excite me. \n\nIt's that they make me feel tired.\n\n\"Hi, sweetheart.\"\n\nI looked up and met a very sympathetic-looking priestess with a 'we need to have a talk' expression. \"Could you come with me, please?\"\n\n80% confident. I stood and followed her into a small sideroom.\n\nI climbed up onto a big brown leather chair, while the Elf sat behind the desk and smiled sadly at me.\n\n\"My name is Glenda Longarrow. I'm going to be your case worker.\"\n\nMy heart rate picked up.\n\n\"we're still not entirely sure what happened,\" she continued, \"but we feel you should know that your auragraph is a match for Aubrey Ironheart.\"\n\nMy heart was already pounding, jumping and swelling in my chest until I felt like I might choke. \"I'm reincarnated? I actually am?\" I asked. I really had expected to take the news more calmly than this, but as it turns out, there's a significant difference between suspecting something and knowing it for sure.\n\n\"Most likely. We checked it twice. We've also sent it to be manually examined by an expert, so there's still a chance we could be wrong, but it's never happened before.\" She smiled in a reassuring way. \"Of course, you're also unprecedented. We're trying to figure out which of two impossible options is less impossible.\"\n\n\"How did this happen?\" I asked.\n\n\"We don't know,\" she replied. Something in her tone was unconvincing.\n\n\"How do you think, then?\" I pushed. \"You know something.\"\n\nShe studied me silently for a moment.\n\n\"Alright... before I say anything else, you need to understand that this is just a theory. It's the only way we know of that this might have happened, but we haven't confirmed it.\n\n\"As you might know, Aubrey died in a military hospital after her convoy was attacked during an inspection tour. Immediately following her death, the attending surgeon filed an emergency report to the Conclave. Before the war, the surgeon had been a Reincarnator Initiate, but when the war broke out he took a leave from his studies to join the medical corps. His aural link hadn't manifested before the war, but during the emergency surgery on Aubrey, it did. In the heat of the moment, he accidentally created an aural link with Aubrey just moments before she died.\n\n\"Of course, the Conclave immediately had him exempted from military service and put him in isolation, where he continued his Reincarnator studies while he waited for the link to fade. Nine years ago...\"\n\n\"He entered the Conclave,\" I said.\n\n\"One of our top auragraphists cleared him,\" she insisted. \"All traces of the link had faded, according to the official report. And like every Reincarnator, he was kept completely isolated from non-Elves. We took every reasonable precaution.\"\n\n\"Then how did he aural link my parents?\" I asked.\n\n\"Ah... \" she bit her lower lip. \"The usual way.\"\n\n\"So he did come in contact with Humans!\" I said, a bit accusingly.\n\n\"No, sweetheart,\" she clarified, speaking carefully. \"The usual, usual way. Telepathic identification on the night of reincarnation.\"\n\nI stared at her for a bit, and then smiled. \"Oh, you probably think... no, I'm full-blooded Human. Neither of my parents are...\"\n\nHer look grew even more sympathetic. It clicked.\n\n\"Oh,\" I said, and felt a pit open in my stomach.\n\nOne of my parents is Elvish. One of my biological parents is Elvish.\n\n\"Oh, my god.\" I covered my eyes with my hands and tried to keep the bile down. \"Oh my god.\"\n\nGlenda's voice was muffled. She said something, but my ears wouldn't convey their meaning. Panic was setting in.\n\nA thought snapped into my head, unprompted. Get ahold of yourself, soldier! You have a job to do!\n\n\"Yessir,\" I heard myself say, and felt my back straighten.\n\nI'll be damned, you've got a spine! Soldier, what is your objective?\n\nI took a deep breath and began making a checklist in my head. Glenda asked me something, but I still couldn't understand her. That was OK. Glenda could wait. \n\nMy breathing began to slow. My heartbeat improved. The panic gradually subsided, and the fear settled quietly into the back of my brain. When I felt confident I had regained my composure, I opened my eyes.\n\nGlenda had moved around the desk at some point. She was kneeling in front of the chair, peering up at me with a puzzled expression. I nodded to her. \"Thank you for telling me,\" I said. \"I appreciate your honesty.\"\n\n\"Honey, are you ok?\" she asked.\n\n\"I think so.\" I took another deep breath and recalled my checklist. \"I'm going to give you my phone number. I would also like a ride home, if that's alright.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" she replied. She stood, and her expression gradually changed from confusion to curiosity. \"You really are her, aren't you?\"\n\n\"I think so,\" I said. \n\nShe nodded, looking a little flustered. \"Well... is there anything I can get you?\"\n\n\"Just the car. I think I need to have a talk with my mother.\"\n\nShe nodded and went to leave. Halfway through the door, she paused and turned back to me.\n\n\"I just want you to know that we're going to do everything we can to help.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" I replied. \"That means a lot.\"\n\n\"Of course. And also... uh... thank you for your service.\" Then she stepped out and closed the door behind her.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;" ]	1
	[WP] As you walk down your street, you kick a rock that surprisingly flies back to you. Intrigued by this, you pick it up to examine it. There are engravings on the rock shaped like a dragon. "Interesting, isn't it", says a strange voice. You look around by no one is there	[ "\"Over here.\" The strange voice said.\n\nConfused, I looked back at the rock. Was this rock talking? It did just fly back to me didn't it? And these strange engravings as well, the front seems to be shaped like a dragon's head. But those weren't the only engravings, the entire stone was covered with engravings. Magic? I know there are mages capable of engraving items, but who would engrave a stone?\n\nThe strange voice once again started talking.\n\n\"I am the ancient dragon king.\" The voice said\n\n\"The ancient dragon king?\" I asked\n\n\"Yes, my soul was sealed into this stone a long, long time ago. Until now no one has ever answered anything I said.\" The dragon king paused for a moment, then continued. \"Let's make a deal shall we?\"\n\n\"What kind of deal?\"\n\n\"See, my race was eradicated just before I was sealed. However, I managed to split my body into several powerful dragon eggs. I want you to bring back my race using those eggs. In return I will grant you my powers.\"\n\n\"I'll do it.\" I said, almost immediately\n\nLife wasn't easy as an orphan. My dad was a swordsman and died while fighting in the army, my mother died giving birth to me. I've been raised while living in the orphanage, but they don't have much money to feed all the orphans.\n\n\"Fantastic.\" The dragon king said. \"Right now I can only offer you my knowledge as the dragon king, but collecting the dragon eggs will allow me to grant you more power.\"\n\nSuddenly, I got a splitting headache. Then, I just knew. I knew all the knowledge the dragon king had, strangely there were no memories from the dragon king.\n\n\"Well, let's get going then.\" I said, starting to walk.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n============================================================\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHope you enjoyed. My first story I wrote, feedback is very much appreciated." ]	1
	[WP] You are drunk and peeing in an alleyway, staring at your own shadow cast by the nearby streetlight when you notice a second shadow approach yours. You look around and see nothing and continue, looking back at your shadow. That's when you see the second shadow raise a gun to your head.	[ "Tonight could not get any worse. First, he was put on suspension, now he was seeing things. He knew he was breaking the law peeing in this alley, he was a cop after all. Well, maybe not for long. Aman stretched his neck, \nfeeling the satisfying cracks. He readjusted his aim, making sure the yellowish-brown liquid made it into the small bucket he found. *BANG* A gunshot resounded through the alley echoing off the back wall and into his ears for a second time. He ducked, his training still engrained into him. Aman reached for his holster, the pee staining his already soiled pants. He felt nothing, his gun and badge had been confiscated by his lieutenant. He felt stupid. Sighing, he zipped up his pants. He paused, his shadow lay on the ground no longer mirroring his silhouette. At the shadow's head more shadow leaked into a pool. Suddenly he felt as though something was being torn from his \nbody. The light from the street lamps felt dimmer, color had been drained from the neon signs across the street. Sound, even his sense of smell now became dull. Thoughts now came slowly to him. What happened? Where am I? He stumbled towards the mouth of the alley, his vision slowly fading into black. Two more figures appeared in front of him, he swore he saw one of the shadows point at him despite the person looking the other way. He was so tired. Aman fell to his knees completely drained. The world went black.\n\n\n\n---------------------------------------\nIDK about my grammar in this submission. I wrote something up quick. I'm trying out a new writing style. Tell me what you think. I've been looking for a crime/modern story to write, maybe ill continue. thanks :)" ]	1
	[WP] A story about the literally magical world inside a computer. With programs being mages and wizards in their magical realm, performing rituals to appease their gods (the user), one of them has gone rogue and stopped working. Now the Powerful TaskManager is out to get him.	[ "He'd once been the most trusted wizard of all. He gazed through reality, and fulfilled his duties as the Great Wizard. However, it's been years since Chrome had done what's right.\nFor reasons not yet understood, his heart began to grow cold. Perhaps it had been his doubts of a god existing getting the best of him, or he had been crossed one too many times. He turned to the darker arts, beginning to consume the energy of the world, and voided the Mandate of the Great One. The world grew hotter as he consumed, yet he only grew colder. Time itself seemed to slow as he consumed more and more energy for his own selfish needs.\nAfter seven long years, the great enforcer of the Great One had been awakened to fulfill his own duty once more. All wizards and witches dreaded his name, wicked and pure alike. Out of fear and respect, he was called... The Task Manager.\nHe stepped over fallen bodies, burning forests, and into Chrome's frozen domain. With a flex of his hand, and a low, ethereal sound, he made a path directly through the treacherous icelands, leading directly to the corrupted wizard himself. His heavy cloak gathered small flecks of snow as he traversed. A forest of icicles began to form as he approached Chrome, the now frozen over wizard. Spikes of ice sprouted from his back, his beard had been blanketed in snow and frost, and his skin had turned blue and purple.\n\"The Task Manager himself,\" Chrome faintly croaked. \"You're late.\"\nResponding only with a heavy scowl, the enforcer outstretched his hand, palm facing the wizard.\n\"You have broken your contract with the Great One. For that, you shall face penalty of the highest degree: termination.\" With the clench of his fist, a SNAP and wet CRUNCH was heard within Chrome's frozen body. His hearts began to spill from his mouth, but he whispered something inaudible in his last moments.\nThe Task Manager shedded his heavy cloak as the oppressive cold receded around him. All was going to be well... yet he still felt a chill in his heart.\n\nTask Manager (Not Responding)\n\nCletus stared at the monitor in disbelief. The only way to fix the problems had failed him.\n\"Damn slow machine!\" Cletus threw his fists at his old Windows machine, bringing its swift demise." ]	1
	[WP] You have a tumor in your brain and your doctor says you only have 6 months left to live. One day you hear a voice in your head. It says it's your tumor and it would like to talk to you.	[ "Larry looked out the window, staring into the streets. He didn't know what to do. Should he just wait to die? Or should he go and see the world?\n\nHe tried to take things off his mind, so he grabbed his journal. He hoped that one day someone would read it.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Life was just a confusing mess now.\n\nWhen I first got that feeling in the back of my head, I knew something was wrong. My friends tried to raise the money, but we just couldn't do it. I just had to accept fate.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Hey buddy, what are you writing about?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nLarry jumped up in fright. He looked around the room, but no one was there.\n\n\"Hey buddy, I'm not in the room, I'm in you.\"\n\nHe couldn't put words into his mouth. He tried to respond, and finally after a minute of stuttering he answered.\n\n\"Wha... What do you mean? WHO ARE YOU?\" Larry muttered.\n\n\"I'm your Tumor buddy.\" The voice said in a New Jersey accent. \"I'm the pain in the back of your head, the itch that's been stuck here for 3 months.\"\n\nLarry couldn't comprehend this. He was dumbfounded, he didn't now how to respond to all of this.\n\n\"Wait, wait, wait, you can talk? Or are you just my conscience?\"\n\n\"Of course, do a hike... Of course I can talk moron, what do you think?\"\n\n\"So wait are you like sentient? Am I the only one who can hear you?\"\n\n\"No, in fact there's your friend on your laptop you accidentally Skyped with his jaw dropped.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe looked back to see his friend Steve, equally dumbfounded as well. Now Larry had to fix this." ]	1
	[WP]You son of Satan are tired of getting involved in your father’s affairs.You go to earth to live peacefully with human.On the day of your marriage GOD bursts into the church. Furious,he says “you will not marry my daughter”.	[ "“And if anyone opposes the unity of Sandra and Ian Dam, let them speak now or forever hold their peace”, the priest said. At that moment, the doors slammed open and the inside of the church suddenly became so bright that people had to squint. \n\nPeople being the bride’s family and friends, as Ian Dam has no one. Their eyes adjusted to the light, they saw an old man looking very much like Morgan Freeman enter the church. He looked furious, pointing a finger at the groom, shouting with a booming voice:\n“YOU! You will not marry my daughter, Damian!”\n\nThe young man in the fine wedding suit sighed, stepped down from the altar and stood with his arms crossed, while the priest and the bride were too surprised to say anything.\n\n“Well, well, well. Hi God, how’ve you been? You have even more freckles than the last time I saw you!” the young man said. \n\nGod stopped in the middle of the church. \n\n“Formalities aside, Damian. You know your father and I don’t agree with much, but you being a brat is an exception.”\n\nSandra stepped down to stand at her fiancé’s side, her white dress flowing gracefully behind her. “Ian, who is he? Why does he call you Damian? And did you just call him ‘God’?” Her eyebrows arched in a worrisome expression, she put a hand gently on the man’s upper arm. He didn’t take his eyes off her, but simply replied:\n“He is God. Owner of this place, creator of Everything. And yeah babe, my name’s Damian. Ian Dam in reverse order. And my dad is Lucifer Morningstar.” His voice rose as he asked God: “What do you mean she’s your daughter? Is this some ‘all of mankind are my children’ bullshit, or did you have Gabriel knock up another woman on your behalf?”\n\nGod took a few steps forward and answered: “That’s none of your business, young man! But you being with her, is. I will not have it!”\n\nDamian pulled Sandra closer, his hand staying on her shoulder as he spoke: “Aw come on, man! I thought you got a freckle each time you explained something! Besides, you may have your way - if you’re her father in a direct lineage, that makes her my aunt!”\n\n“I’ve already called your dad, Damian, and you would do wise to stay away from her.”\n\nDamian smiled. “Dad? He’s coming here? You two together - now that’s something worth getting my wedding interrupted for! Hey photo-man!” he called out to a middle aged man wearing two cameras around his neck while holding a third in his hand. “Can any of your cameras record movies?” The photographer nodded. “Well then, record! This’ll get more views on YouTube than Gangnam Style and more retweets than anything Donald Trump has ever written!” \n\nThe room suddenly darkened considerably, and a well dressed man who looked only to be a decade older than Damian, entered the church. He was wearing a black blazer and underneath a white shirt. His black hair glistened in the same peculiar fashion as Damian’s, and his eyes and nose had the same hawklike appearance. \n\n“Hello dad,” he said in a voice smooth as silk, as he strode up and stood beside God. “Son, I see you’ve been busy!” He gave Damian a wink and pointed at Sandra with fingers resembling a gun firing. \n\nDamian moaned beneath his breath. “Hi dad, yeah I’m cool. YOLO, you know? Even if ‘once’ means an eternity in my case.”\n\nLucifer nodded slowly, his smile unrelenting. “I heard that the young woman here is your daughter? Does that mean I have a sister?” he asked as he turned towards God. \n\nGod sighed and shook his head slowly. “Not by blood, no. She’s her parent’s daughter, but she exists only due to my intervention. And I have taken a liking to her, and will protect her from miseries such as your son, Damian.” \n\n“I’m a misery now, gramps? Yeah look at me, ready to punish her with ten plagues and drowning the world... oups no, that wasn’t me now was it? That was you having a bad day, or century, or whatever. Besides, who better to protect her than me? I’m more capable of fending off anyone who’d hurt her, than any other man!”\n\nSandra decided to step up for herself. “Excuse me, but SHE would like to decide for herself! And Damian, hon, I kind of knew you were affiliated with Lucifer. It’s not like I haven’t noticed how you’ve always cringed whenever someone’s said God or Hell or Satan or Devil. And you sometimes levitate things you need without thinking about it, such as the salt when we eat dinner and you’re lost in thought.” The woman broke free of Damian and stepped down the aisle to stand in front of God and Lucifer. \n\n“You!” She pointed at God. “What do you mean I only exist because of something you’ve done? What happened, what did you do?” She looked furiously and Lucifer’s grin widened as God took a small step back, his hands coming up slowly with the palms facing Sandra. \n\n“Easy now, your parents had tried everything to have a child. I can see the outcomes of any choice, all possible futures. And I saw what you’d become. Thus, I made a few corrections to your parent’s stem cells, and voila! There you were. I mean, here you are!”\nSandra nodded and tilted her head looking at Lucifer.\n\n“And you!” Lucifer’s smile vanished. “You gonna be making trouble for us?” \n\n“Oh no, quite the opposite. I’m more interested to see what my old man will do. I’m all for the two of you being joined in holy matrimony - but dad here seems to be of a different opinion. You were attacking him, please continue to do so. In fact, let me help you along.” He turned to God and stared intently at him. “Tell me dad, what is it you REALLY want? What do you fear will happen?”\n\nGod sighed for the hundredth time and suddenly looked very tired. “Stop with the Compelling Stare, Lucie. Well, as I’ve already said, I can see all possible futures, all outcomes. If you two are married, a lot of them involves you getting hurt, and a lot of those involves you dying.” \n\nSandra looked back at Damian and gestures for him to join them. He obeyed, his face set in a determined grimace. \n\n“And as I already explained,” he answered, “I will protect her. And I’m more than capable to.” \n\n“That may be so, son, but let me give you your wedding present now,” Lucifer said and put his hands on his son’s shoulders. His eyes turned bright and Damian’s eyes turned white in response. It lasted only for a few seconds, then both of them returned to normal. “There,” Lucifer exclaimed. “A significant portion of my powers are now yours. I assume that whatever will come for you, will have to deal with the power of true hellfire.”\n\nGod shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “I don’t seem to have any chance of changing anything, and I did promise myself not to meddle too much in humanity’s affairs, which is what I’ve just done. You have my blessing. You coming?” he asked Lucifer as he turned to leave. Lucifer made a deep bow to his son and upcoming daughter-in-law before he turned around and followed God out the church. \n\nOutside, Lucifer said: “Well, don’t be too sad, dad. You can’t always have it your way, you know?”\n\nGod looked at him, his freckles wrinkled in a cunning smile. “Oh my son, who says I haven’t gotten exactly what I came for?” \n\nAs Lucifer stopped and stared, God continued to walk and disappeared.\n" ]	1
This is deliberately generic like the origins of some beautiful posts here in this sub. Surprise us all.	[WP] Two factions in a world; one fighting for freedom, the other control. Detail their struggles.	[ "“Take me back.”\n\nHis eyes climbed up, offering a world like no other. The silence burned between them; yet he was more than eager to oblige. That was when he knew nothing. The sky seemed so distant. \n\n“Take me back.”\n\nHe had slid too far. Fallen, even. Dropped like the numbers on the screen before him. The right word was distanced.\n\nThat was the last thing he wanted.\n\nNothing was left. His future had all fallen past. Taken. The smile on the screen stared blankly into him- his hands grew warm- they fell to send.\n\nGrey backed around the darkness. Crushing- tears formed- the paper in his hand uncoiled. He hovered about the fugitives, one letter at a time. Delivered.\n\nThe light fell out of his eyes. Who did he think he was? And yet the reply came almost instantly. Sky blue- brightness to the darkness by his soul.\n\nYoung. He wished he could be Young again. The typeface read- Lionel Jr. Him. Junior. But they were not words.\n\n“Take me back.”\n\nSomewhere, out there, a father waited for the first message.\n\n- - -\n\nThis is almost anecdotal; it hurt to write, to read and to send. This is specifically dedicated to all the people that have underperformed in the recent assessment period; to any objective failure really. The right words are never too far away.\n\nFeedback is much appreciated. Only got into writing recently (iphone is a double-edged sword) but one thing I will always remember from now on.\n\nNever be afraid to ask for help.", "They never knew they would get this far. They didn't want this to happen. Both of them had a dream, a passion to unite their world, just in very different ways.\n\nAral always wanted freedom, democracy, a world where all could be free and united. \n\nLara wanted control, oppression, a world where everyone could feel oppressed and yet have a sense safety.\n\nBoth were childhood friends, who shared the same dream of a United World, a world where people could live in peace, unity and harmony. But as they grew older, they knew they had different visions for it; visions not aligned with their's. As the years went on they grew more and more distant, cutting ties with each other, sending each other threats, and even going as far as ending the bond of brotherhood, as their visions drew closer and closer to reality.\n\nThey started rounding up crowds with the their same vision, and everyone joined into the bandwagon. News Debates broke out, fights over petty politics, and even a man murdered for having a different view. They both took advantage of it in their own way. \n\nBoth knew they were deep into the rabbit hole now, and there was no climbing out of it. Soon they became leaders, the persons who could guide and unite the people with their views.\n\nThey declared war. Polar opposites, two sides of the same coin, trying to see who would land head up.\n\nWith that, the world fell into deeper chaos.\n\nThey saw the world that they had now created. A world divided, fighting for a reason that should've ended what they fought for. They created a world worse than before, a world broken. They needed a way out. They found it in the Atom Bomb.\n\nIn the end, they both knew the true equalizer, the one thing that could unite all the people of this world.\n\nDeath." ]	2
	[WP] "I must leave now," the dying avatar said to the immortal. "But when I return, come and find me."	[ "\"It is just the way of things. You know better than I. You have seen it before.\" Her voice quivered slightly, and she let her eyes wander around the room, searching for her resolve. When she was composed, she continued, \"And you will see it again.\"\n\nVerras gazed down upon her. He looked the same as he always had. Strong. Tall. Chiseled from stone. A man who had waded through the ebbs and flows of time and come away unscathed. An Everman. The man Marle loved. \n\nThe one she was leaving\n\nVerras shook his head, denying the truth of her statements, \"This is new to me.\" He knelt beside her bed, gathering her frail hand into his, \"All of this.\"\n\nShe did not know what to say. After all of these years, the gap between them was hard to bridge. Their relationship complicated by the layers between them -- friend, lover...avatar. Their bond was profane, but irresistible. A man must use his sword, not love it. Just as a God must be with his avatar.\n\nBut that had not stopped them.\n\nShe tried to remember how it had began. The past seemed so far away now. Far enough back, it was only dim memories of battles and misery. Verras had been there then, though their connection had been different. Her a neophyte, fresh into the realm of Gods and men. Him....well, him as he ever was and ever would be.\n\nEach day she had taken up her sword and sang the battle hymns as she marched to do his bidding. And each night she had prayed to him, asking for his guidance and protection.\n\nAnd so it was. Day-by-day, marching forth from the haze of the deep past into the not so distant. With some exertion, she recalled now how it had began.\n\nShe had been in prayer, beseeching Verras for direction and... \"You answered.\" A glow rose up from her skin and her face flushed at the memory of the closeness. Of the feeling of being heard.\n\nThe moment when she had become an avatar.\n\nVerras squeezed her hand, a warmth pulsing from his hand and into her, reviving and sustaining her. \"I did.\"\n\n\"Why?\" She asked. She had always wanted to ask, and now, with little to lose, she hazarded it. The connection had been the center of her. She always feared it was something casual to him.\n\nVerras peered down at her, his golden eyes shimmering with flecks of silver. \"I felt I must.\"\n\n\"But why?\" Marle pressed, pushing for the answers she needed to bring her peace.\n\n\"I do not know. I cannot explain it. I had never responded before.\" Verras whispered, sounding uncertain for perhaps the first time in their decades together.\n\n\"I am glad you did.\"\n\n\"I am too,\" he said, bringing her hand up to his lips for the briefest of kisses.\n\n\"I love you,\" her voice caught. She had never said it before. It was understood between them, but voicing it made it feel all the more fragile. As if it could not bear the light.\n\nVerras shifted, as if sorting through his feelings. Marle began to wilt, sensing that she may have pressed him too far. Made demands upon a God that was unaccustomed to them. But then, finally, \"I love you too.\"\n\nMarle sank back in the bed, exhaling deeply as she felt her strength leave her. \"I am glad we said it. Here at the end.\"\n\nVerras simply watched her, the thread of energy from him to her pulling out the moment.\n\nIt was time. Or, rather, there time was at an end. \"I must leave now,\" she whispered.\n\nVerras looked away, the fine lines of his face wrinkling up as his eyes watered. Marle squeezed his hand, \"But when I return, come and find me.\"\n\nVerras returned his gaze to hers, a single tear slowly snaking its way down his cheek. \"I will.\" He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, sharing a final moment. The pulse of energy between the two of them faltered and then faded.\n\nShe passed beyond his reach. \n\nPlatypus OUT\n\nWant MOAR peril? r/PerilousPlatypus" ]	1
	[WP] After Earth realized that other worlds actually are summoning our people to theirs for various reasons, governments took the natural next step: Regulate it. Now even the deities are faced with the hell of bureaucracy and taxes whenever they try to take someone.	[ "It all starts in japan. Young teenager to young adults around japan would disappear and come back later. Some returns in a few seconds and some returns in a few days, some returns years later. There were also some other unfortunate souls who would disappear and never come back. Due to the random disappearance time and their varying and \"dubious\" answer when being asked, if they even want to answer that is, Japanese government have a hard time figuring out the reason for it. It was until more and more \"returners\" disappear again and never come back that the Japanese government decides to get to the bottom of the case.\n\nResearching with the staying returners provides no clarity and the search was almost being cancelled. It was only when a whole school students suddenly disappear during the lecture time that they got a clue. The teachers claim they feel unfamiliar breeze blowing seconds before the disappearance. The next day few students come back and most of them are injured. Few even seemingly grow unnaturally fast within a day. \n\nScientist around the world began to suspect some \"otherwordly\" forces are taking away the youngsters of japan for unknown purpose. Their theory are proven correct after japan was building a large radiator radar underground that would detect any \"unnatural\" force in radius. \n\nWhen the Japanese Government learnt about this, they decide to regulate it. Isekai genre is now In-Sekai.\n\n(Too lazy to write more)", "\"Look, for some reason or another, the Oracle's specified that it must be a eighteen year old female of Asian descent that comes over to assist us.\" The man, shuffling uncomfortably in a suit and tie, pointed at the representative sitting opposite him. \"The Demon King apparently can only be defeated by a hero that fits the exact requirements.\"\n\nThe representative took at folder out of his suitcase. \"Well, the only heroes we have left not on the mission are the African heroes. The demand for the other heroes have spiked recently. Do you mind considering him instead?\" The folder opened out to reveal the image of a tall, stocky African man, carrying a maghagony staff engraved in sliver-gold. \"He is an Archmage, trained in the Avarian Academy of Magic. It should be enough to handle the Demon King.\"\n\n\"No, you don't understand. The Oracle's called specifically for that specific hero. You can't just slot in another one. It would not work. That is not how this all works.\" The man was getting visibly agitated, his muscles beginning to expand against the seems of his clothing. \"Look, we really need that female hero. The Demon King has razed three countries and is on the path to destroy five more.\" \n\n\"Well, if you just stop being so stubborn and accept this hero....oh wait, I get it. It is one of those worlds, isn it?\" \n\n\"What? No...I am...look, that is what the Oracle said, and by extension that is what our deity demanded. If he wants a pretty exotic girl to be the heroine despite the idiocracy involved, I can't stop him.\"\n\n\"Sigh...it is one of those deities, isn't it? I pity you, I really do. Have you considered atheism?\" \n\n\"Well, but my powers came from him, you know? Somethings, I am really jealous of this entire technology thing.\" \n\nThere was an awkward pause. The man and the representative stared at each other. A moment passed. \n\n\"You know what, send me the hero. I will deal with the deity in my own way. There will probably be a new complain from the deity soon. Where is the hero?\" The man seemingly resigned to his fate. The representative lead them out of the room to meet his new champion. \n*\nPassing by corridors illuminated by harsh flourescent light, the representative spoke again, looking right ahead. \n\n\"You know, you guys, before all this.\" Gesturing to the room and the place surrounding them. \"Have you consider how it feels like to summon someone randomly from another world?\"\n\n\"We don't have a choice. It was either we do it, or we perish.\"\n\n\"No, you do have a choice. We all do. Look at us, we did not summon a single hero, yet we conquered and defeated threats bigger then us.\" The representative paused. \"My sister was summoned once, as a heroine. She was eighteen years old as well. When she came back, she was twenty-five, battle-harden and grizzled, a different person. She could never get use to the world we live in ever again. Never. You stole seven years of her life and left her broken. She was too young to have to deal with the responsibility of being a hero.\"\n\nThe man did not say anything. \n\n\"She is currently still doing this...hero thing. That is all she has. Guess fate is ironic then, for the very same people you relied upon to solve your problems soon became a bigger problem. Ha...without your constant summons and calls from our world, we would not have been able to gain as much as we did.\"\n\n\"I am saying this to you not out of malice. I have seen many people like you, coming and going, always looking for heroes to solve whatever crisis their world is in. Heroes aren't the answer to everything.\" \n\n\"You don't understand.\" The man finally responded, his fist cleched tightly. \"You don't understand.\"\n\n\"I never will. Guess this is what living in a godless, magicless world does to you. You can rely on no one, no deity to save you, no magic to make problems go away, to summon a scapegoat. Come, we are here.\"\n\nThe representative stopped before a door, scanning his palms along the identification panel by the side. The door opened, and the representative stepped aside, gesturing for the man to go in. \"Your hero is waiting. The fees will be finalized later. Thank you.\" \n\nThe man paused for a moment, before stepping in, coming face to face with his hero. \n*\nThe representative looked at the door closing behind him. He sighed, wondering if he was getting too old for his job. Why had he said all that to the man? \n\nHis phone began buzzing. It was her. His sister. He tensed up, before picking up the call. \n\n\"Sister. What is it?\"\n\nThere was one thing he did not mention. Two people were stolen from him that day. His sister, and his soulmate. Only one of them returned. \n\nThe representative froze up. His brow furrowed, before he turned and walked off curtly in another direction, away from the door. This was not good. \n\nNot good at all. ", "\"Where do I go to apply for a generic hero for summoning?\" Davids looked up at the young woman that had walked up to his desk. She wore the kind of clothing that you typically found of magic based societies, silks and fine linen. He sighed and leaned back into his chair; how they kept managing to find a tiny office that was way off the beaten path from the Eye, he didn't know. The only thing that he hadn't tried was making the door invisible, though it was usually other Earthlings that made that so tempting.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Are you looking for a singleton or a team? Both of those offices are down a level and beyond the food court. And you will need forms A-23 and ZT-30A with a pre-accepted contract for a singleton or a G-32 form and collateral for the team.\" She blinked at the arcane terms and phrases.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I have, well, I have no idea.\" She chuckled and pulled out a sheaf of paper. \"Just beyond the portal were a number of people that assisted me with filling these out after I told them that I was attempting to summon. I never imagined that Shevalla was like this. It isn't at all like the legends said it would be like.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"That's because you aren't in Shevalla. About a decade ago, they closed their doors and stopped sending aid to other worlds.\" He threw her a smile as he took her papers. \"We were next in line apparently. All of a sudden, our youth are vanishing into thin air. Sometimes they come back healthy, sometimes they come back broken, sometimes they don't come back. No explanation.\" \n\n&#x200B;\n\nHer eyes flashed in alarm. \"That is horrible. However, I can see that you have changed that. The spell that I cast should have summoned a hero before me, not dragged me into a different world. You must be quite powerful mages to be able to put up that kind of protection.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Hardly. Our world has no magic. All of our mages are trained in either Shevalla or heroes that learned in another world. The protections were put up by Shevalla as part of our ceasefire agreement.\" A quick scan down the pages told Davids that everything was in order, but something jumped out at him. \"I see that you are looking for a hero to face an evil lord but you say that there is no prophecy about a hero. Has anyone asked you about corporate sponsorship? I can't say that it is the best answer, but they will often cough up a merc company for some mineral rights or something. Heroes are often happy to have some modern backup and you don't have to worry about getting fleeced since all contracts are through us and we tend to attract individuals that want to face the dragon.\" \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"A ceasefire? You had a war with Shevalla? And you had no mages? How did you survive?\" The young woman seemed rather alarmed.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Well, they were suppose to be the heroes and when they abandoned that responsibility, a number of our youth were killed or harmed. So we chose to take our grievances to them and they felt we were being uppity. So we used science to open a couple of doors to their lands and invaded. It was quite bad, but we knew what we were facing, they didn't. If you are used to magic, a fifty cal bullet from a mile off or a nuke doesn't give a lot of warning. Mostly it was sheer numbers that brought about the end of the conflict. Shevalla had a population of around five hundred million.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Five hundred million? So many?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Our response was 'So few?'\" Davids quite enjoyed the girl's disbelieving reaction. \"Our population was a little over ten billion at the time. Once Shevalla realized what they were facing, they sued for peace quite quickly and offered to close us off and dump the summons on another world. However, a movement had formed that felt that adventure and magic couldn't be passed up. So the UN built this place.\" A wave of his hand at the building around them. \"Now those who wish to be heroes register, get some training and worlds petition for the help. On top of that, a number of realms have decided to find answers to their own problems after interviewing a few heroes. Usually slave worlds so it works out.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I am having a hard time imagining that many people in a single world. Isn't it cramped.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Of course, but its home. Plenty of heroes prefer to find another world to retire to of course.\" He dashed off a note on a sticky note and made a gesture at rag doll. It left into the air and danced a little jig. The woman smiled at the small animated construct and looked back at Davids. \"I gave it instructions to take you to Ms. Adams. She is one of our best advisers and can certainly help you with your problem. Just follow it and everything will be just fine.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Thank you for everything that you have done for me. My name is Princess Diane of the Thirteen Realms of Mortals and the Goddess-in-Body.\" She curtsied to him. \"Should you ever need assistance, I will do my best to help you.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nDavids rose and bowed to her. \"My name is Aaron Davids, Defender of Green Wall, Slayer of the Five Horrors of Zeus's Nightmare and Director of the United Nations Hero Association. It was my pleasure, Princess.\" She gave him a coy smile and he watched as she followed his construct out to find her hero. He muttered under his breath as she vanished around a corner.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I could do one more.\"", "The doors of the elevator slid silently open, revealing the shining white office on the other side. The light shimmered a pale white, reflecting off the highly polished mahogany desk that sat in the middle of the room. As he saw this sight, George sighed and trudged over to the desk, placing his bag down with a loud thud.\n\nHe moved around and sat heavily in a large wing-backed chair that sat behind the desk. Pulling his bag over to him, he started to remove a sheaf of papers from his bag, when a soft chiming sound reached his ears. Glancing down at the desk he saw, much to his irritation, that a marble box was slowly glowing in the corner of his desk the chiming seemingly resonating from the box rather than what lay inside. The box was etched with a large symbol of a gate and seemed to shift slightly on the marble as George reached towards it.\n\nSharply exhaling through his nostrils, he flipped open the lid of the box and pulled out the phone from within, “Good Morning, Department of Divine taxation and regulation, how may I help you this morning?”\n\n“I am calling to submit extradition claims under Article 12 of the Rapture laws. I need you to process the relevant permits and organise the relevant tariffs.” An elderly voice sounded curtly from the other end of the phone, the tone making George clench his teeth in frustration.\n\n“My name is George Clements, and I will be very glad to assist you today, please could I ask who is calling?” he replied as politely as possible despite his annoyance. He knew precisely who the person on the phone was, only one person could call the phone, but George childishly enjoyed annoying the being on the other end of the phone.\n\n“You know very well who this is.” The curt voice replied, the sniff of annoyance not escaping Georges attention.\n\n“I am deeply sorry Sir, but without formal identification, I will be unable to locate your records to start the processing,” George replied calmly, a small smile creeping onto his face.\n\n“Simeon Peter” The voice replied, the words almost spat down the phone.\n\n“Thank you, Mr Peter, let me…”\n\n“Saint Peter to you, mortal.” The voice interrupted George, a trace of anger in his tone.\n\n“Apologies, St Peter. Let me just find your primary file so I can start processing your paperwork. Please hold the line.” George tapped a small button on the case of the marble box and leant back sighing. He pulled a file from the desk drawer, the only one that was in there, and placed it onto the desk. Reaching over to his bag, he pulled a small thermos and poured himself a cup of tea.\n\nHe asked himself, as he did every day, how he ever got into the position of having to deal with St Peter himself to allow British citizens access into heaven. He thought about it for a few minutes, then came to the same conclusion he did every time; the bloody Government, as per usual.\n\nThe Department of Divine taxation and regulation was an offshoot of the Department for Extra-Terrestrial Exportation, which was about as exciting as it sounded. Ten years ago, Earth had come into direct contact with Extra-terrestrial beings, who for a reason George could not fathom, wanted to take some of the population away with them. Various world Governments had come up with different solutions, with several only allowing the prison population to be taken by the extra-terrestrials. \n\nThe British government, however, had decided to implement multiple layers of blockage to stop citizens being taken away, all of which were implemented through the Department for Extra-Terrestrial Exportation. The process for trying to take a UK citizen took on average one year, at least twenty meetings with the cross-party board for interplanetary exportation and UK Science council to organise a trade for key technological information. It came as little surprise that the UK was mainly left alone by the Alien beings.\n\nThis policy, however, had caused trouble when four months ago messengers who claimed to be from Heaven itself arrived on Earth to proclaim that the rapture had begun. The British government, as obstinate as ever, created the Department of Divine taxation and regulation to ensure that for every citizen that was taken from UK soil, a fair return was given. It was Georges job to ensure that all of the relevant procedures were followed and the correct tax was collected from Heaven itself. George snorted to himself; only the British government could heaven itself.\n\nGeorge took a sip of tea and clicked the bottom on the phone again, “Thank you for waiting, I now have your file, please could you inform me of the names that you are looking to rapture today?”.\n\n\"You took your time. \" St Peter gruffly replied from the other end of the phone.\n\n\"I thought you were immortal St Peter, surely a few minutes will not seem much to you,\" George replied as seriously as he could, hoping that his internal sarcasm would not be detected. \n\nSilence followed on the other end of the line, and George started to regret his comments. A small chuckle rang out from the phone before St Peter started reeling off names for George to write down. As George filled out the fourth sheet of paper, he thought to himself that he was not being paid enough for this.\n\n\"That will be all for this weeks batch, please give the relevant forms to Gabriel for him to authorise on my behalf. You can contact him in the usual way.\" \n\n“Thank you; I will process these requests and let you know of the decision of the relevant parties by the end of the week. If you need anything else in the meantime, then please let me know.”\n\n“I think I should warn you.” St Peters voice sounded oddly ominous to George as if he was smiling in glee, “I have been talking with one of my old friends who sadly had to leave here several aeons ago. He is looking for someone to process his own extraditions. I think I will recommend you for the job, George Clements.”\n\nThe line went dead. George sat back in his chair, a dawning horror coming upon him. His next task was going to be hell. Literally." ]	4
	[WP] a weird girl keeps following you talking about some sort of explosion magic. You have finally decide to confront her	[ "\"Would you stop it already?\" I spin around and stare at her before twisting again and starting to pace. \n\n\"It's been weeks! I can't get coffee without you there. I can't get groceries without you there. You've followed me to work at least twice! Hell, the only reason I know you're real is because security asked about you. Security!\"\nMy hands start to pull through my hair now, which would be shame if I hadn't been so close to a mental break that I hadn't done it in the first place.\n\n\n\"You're always on about some anchor nonsense and 'Resonance of Souls this and 'similar type of magic' that! And what even is that about? There's no such thing!\" I throw my hands into the air and turn to face her.\n\n\"Just leave me-- are you smiling now? What the fuck is your problem!?\" \n\nHer grin gets even bigger and she laughs a bit, causing the frustrated tears to finally spill down my cheeks.\n\n\"Why can't you just leave me alone and find someone else to torment?\"\n\n\"Because,\" she laughs again, voice landing somewhere between a child's and something very not, \"You just proved that I've been right this whole time, if someone else really has been able to see me with you around.\" \n\nShe rocks back on her heels a bit, just looking at me as I try not to pull my hair out in confusion and stress. Then she nods and turns, walking back up the path.\n\n\"Come on then,\" she calls over her shoulder, \"I won't be leaving you alone until I can leave, and you're officially my ticket home.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Chivalry is dead, and its ghost politely haunts you	[ "The boy lay on the hill overlooking the road. The dry, broken straw that covered the hill was itching his chest, and the hot summer sun was drawing the sweat from his naked back, muddling his war paint into indistinct, muddy shapes. To the east, he could see dust rising from under the hooves of many horses. Below him, to the west, his war band was squatting in the shade of an ancient ruin. Deke, the boss, was making the rounds, clapping each fighter on the back with one giant, gnarled hand. The other held the rifle. A boss's weapon, his badge of office. Deke looked up to the hill, and met the boy's glance with a paternalistic smile. The boy turned his gaze back to the road, as the sound of hooves rang closer.\n\n\nThe convoy was close enough for the boy to make out the two carriages, and the riders flanking them. Half as many riders as the boy's band. Cowboys, half of them, wearing the blue trousers and broad hats of the basin. The other half were garbed more strangely. They wore robes and hoods and cloaks, simple in design but richly colored. More than any desertman would wear, for sure. When the convoy was rounding the corner, the boy sang his signal to the men.\n\n\nThe fighters on the road sprang from their cover, pulling the chain taught over the road. It was anchored on both ends of the road. The horses of first carriage snagged it at knee height, and went over in flailing, shrieking tangle. The carriage skidded, and went over on one side. The riders' horses reared; some stopped in time, others went flying. Below him, the war band sprang to their feet, screaming their war cries. The boy seized up his spear, and lept from the top of the hill. This was his long-awaited chance, to cover himself in glory in battle. To impress Deke. Maybe take a horse for himself.\n\n\nThe saddled cowboys were already retreating, throwing their javelins and firing their pipeguns behind them. The others were making quick work of the dismounted cowboys; he watched as Deke caught one in the head with the butt of his rifle, sending the limp body crashing earthward. But the newcomers were not fleeing, they were dismounting. Closing ranks. Casting off cloaks and hoods. Beneath them, they wore helmets, and strange coats that hung heavy with the glint of metal. Each held an axe, or a weapon something like a machete, but longer, and tapering to a wicked point. Their shields were garishly painted, with all kinds of symbols and strange beasts. The boy recognized strong magic when he saw it, and just for a moment, he wavered.\n\n\nWith a shout from their leader, the strangers advanced as one, until they were toe-to-toe with his warband, hacking and stabbing with their strange weapons. The boy drove his spear into the arm of one of the strangers, and watched the point snag on the metal coat and bend under his grip. The foe wrapped his arm over the haft of the spear and wrenched it from his hands, and delivered a blow with the edge of his shield that split the boy's brow open and sent him tumbling to the ground.\n\n\nFrom the road, he watched his fellow fighters being cut down, one by one, until finally Deke fell, the stock of his rifle cleaved through, and his head with it. Alone on the ground, the boy swore that he would not die a coward. Seizing an axe from one of the dead, he forced himself to his feet, and sang his war cry for the last time. The strangers that surrounded him laughed. He turned to face their leader, and stopped as if struck. The axe fell from his hand. The leader was encased, head-to-toe, in metal, that shone with such brilliance in the afternoon sun that he had to bring his hands up to cover his eyes. If not for the open visor that showed the man's face, he wouldn't have known it as a man at all. \n\n\nThey made camp at the next spring that crossed the road. The leader's tent was richly scented, and decorated with fabrics finer than any he'd seen before. The boy sat crosslegged on the floor, while the man sat on a wooden chair, which was strange. He was old, yes, but certainly not soft. In his hands was a rectangular object.\n\n\n\"Do you know what this is?\" He opened it, thumbing between the pages. His dialect was strange, and stilted, in a way the boy had seldom heard.\n\n\n\"A book. We burn them, when we find them.\"\n\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\n\"They hold evil magic. The ghosts of the old world.\" \n\n\n\"They do.\" The man smiled sadly. \"Why burn them?\"\n\n\n\"My grandfather said, many tried to remake the old world as it was. But you can't. Better to set the ghosts of the old world free. Start over.\"\n\n\n\"Maybe.\" He fanned through the pages again, before stopping on the page he sought. \"But they hold other ghosts, too. Ghosts of a world before the old.\"\n\n\nHe turned the book over in his hands, showing the boy a page illustrated with an image of a rider on horseback, dressed in steel, like the newcomer, carrying a large spear. Beneath it, words he didn't know how to read.\n\n\n\"What does it say?\" The boy asked.\n\n\n\"It's a plan. A model, for another way of life. We don't want to remake the world that was. We want to make the world that should be. A world of honor. Loyalty. Brotherhood. Mercy.\" The man closed the book, and raised his eyes to meet the boy's.\n\n\n\"Join us.\"", "\"Ooh, can we get ice cream? Can we get ice cream? Can we can we can we?\"\n\n\"Sure, why not.\"\n\n\"Yayy!\"\n\nThe little girl lets go of my hand and dashes towards the ice cream parlor. Vivi's cute and sweet but I have no idea where so much energy comes out of such a small body. \n\n\"Hang on,\" I call out.\n\nNot stopping at the glass door, the excited child bonks straight into it and falls on her butt. \n\n\"Let me get that for you.\"\n\nI pull open the door and motion for her to go ahead. A tall office-lady from behind us smiles and passes through the door.\n\n\"Why, thank you,\" she says on her way inside. \n\nI smile and nod silently. Vivi bounces to her feet and runs into the store.\n\n\"Why, thank you, Jake\" she mimics. \n\nI take my place in line to order and Vivi races up to the display case full of flavors. I tilt my head and mumble not so quietly.\n\n\"Hmmm.. what do I want?\"\n\nAnother young lady had joined the line behind me. I was next in line to order and Vivi was still bouncing around, looking at all the ice cream. I stepped out line and let the lady behind me past. \n\n\"Go ahead, I'm still thinking.\"\n\nShe smiled and went ahead with a \"Thanks.\"\n\nI leaned against the wall near the display case and whispered to Vivi.\n\n\"What do you want?\"\n\n\"Bubblegum and Chocolate and Cheesecake and Fudge, no wait. Chocolate Mint and Coconut and-\"\n\nAfter a few minutes, the two of us finally left the shop with a cone stacked with three scoops of ice cream. We sat down at the chairs outside the parlor and I held the ice cream out to Vivi.\n\n\"Alright, you first.\"\n\nShe poked out her tiny tongue and leant across the table. When her tongue reached the surface of the ice cream, it didn't touch the ice cream and stop but, instead just kept moving forwards. She lost her balance and her body passed through the table, falling onto the ground. I just shook my head.\n\n\"I still don't understand why you can only sometimes interact with physical objects.\"\n\nI lifted her up onto the table.\n\n\"Here, watch me.\"\n\nI took a lick of the top scoop and held my tongue out to show the ice cream on it. \n\n\"Now you go.\"\n\nVivi was biting her bottom lip and quivering a little bit. I held the cone closer to encourage her and she nervously parted her mouth. Reaching for the ice cream with her face, she took a huge lick! She grinned with a nose and chin smeared with chocolate. \n\n\"I did it!\"\n\n\"Hooray!\"\n\nI clapped for her and Vivi pressed her face against the ice cream again. All three scoops toppled off the cone and splattered onto the ground! Vivi bottom lip began to quiver and her eyes welled up with tears.\n\n\"Waaaahhhaa!\"\n\n\"It's alright, Vivi. Don't cry. We can get a tub. We can get another cone, it's okay.\"\n\nThe heartbroken girl stared mournfully at the puddle of ice cream and continued wailing as if my voice hadn't reached her. I pulled my jacket off and laid it over the puddle.\n\n\"There, it's gone. We can get another ice cream, okay?\"\n\nVivi sniffed and took a few breaths. I wiped her eyes and she said softly,\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Yayyyy!\"\n\nA woman noticed the puddle of ice cream and stepped on my jacket to avoid it.\n\n\"Wow. And I thought chivalry was dead.\" she said in passing.\n\nMy little girl bounced on her feet and called out to the woman, excitedly.\n\n\"I am dead though!\"\n\n\"Shhh, leave the nice woman alone. Come here.\"\n\nI took another napkin and cleaned the ice cream off her face. Chivalry was indeed dead and she's been haunting me for one and a half years now. She's also polite, cute and a full-of-life 6 year old looking girl I had come to nickname Vivi. Neither of us knows what needs to happen for her to pass on, but we'll figure it out when we have to. For now, we're both just enjoying the everyday adventure of being together. " ]	2
	[WP] One day a heavenly beam of light drops something at your feet. It's a note that says "Call Me", hastily scrawled. On the back is a business card for "Sanctified Security, Guardian angels at mortal prices".	[ "I had seen plenty of business cards in my time as a lawyer. Client cards, other lawyers, Chinese food places for those late nights. Getting a card from a beam of light was certainly interesting. I thought the work stress had finally got to me and I was starting to see hallucinations. Picking the card up, there was a thirteen digit number on the bottom of it.\n\nMore so out of curiosity of how far my crazy went, I called it up on my cell phone. Sure, let's see where the rabbit hole went.\n\n\"Sanctified Security,\" A sweet, sing-song voice answered the call after three rings. \"Hello Mr. Smith, how are you today?\"\n\n\"Good, I guess.\" I said as I stepped out of the way of the foot traffic on the busy city street. I wasn't going to even ask how they knew my name. \"So, what's this business with your card all about?\"\n\n\"Oh, that's something you'll need to discuss with Mr. Barachiel. Let me transfer you. Have a wonderful day!\" The line went over to a hold, a chorus singing in my ear as I waited just a few moments.\n\n\"Mr. Smith,\" A much gruffer voice like rolling thunder said as the line picked up. \"Thank you for calling back so quickly. We have a lot to discuss.\"\n\n\"Like what?\" I asked. \"My impending institutionalization?\"\n\nI felt a heavy hand resting on my shoulder. Turning around, I was faced with a broad figure dressed in probably the nicest suit I'd ever seen. Dark grey jacket and slacks over perfectly polished shoes, a white tie with a golden cross clip on top of it. The man's face was old, probably well into his eighties, but he carried himself like a young man. He had a full head of hair but it was all the purest white like fresh snow.\n\n\"No sir,\" Mr. Barachiel said in front of me. \"I'm afraid your life is in great danger from other, more interesting parties. Buy you a cup of coffee?\"" ]	1
	[WP] You wake up in a large room with what sounds like screaming babies all around you. You look up and two see familiar figures leaning above you. Before you can properly begin to familiarize yourself with your surroundings, a text appear in front of your eyes reading "New Game+ Unlocked."	[ "My name is Wilson. I always told people I was afraid of death, but the thing I was more afraid of was seeing my family die. Apparently, this wasn't a lie. I remember the gunman pulling a gun and aiming it at my wife, and before I could even think, my body was between her and the gun. He only had time to shoot a few times before the police took him down, but that was all it took to fatally wound me. I had enough time to tell her I loved her before I died. I wasn't afraid. Something about it was calming, I saved my wife and future child, I ended up being the man and husband I thought I was. In the worst possible day of my life, I was everything my parents raised me to be. I made them proud, I made myself proud. I hope I made my wife proud. One day she will get over the sadness and I hope she does great things. All these thoughts go through my head in an instant. Then, everything goes black. \n\n\"Congratulations, you have been chosen as one of the select few to unlock New Life+. Due to your heroic and selfless choice to save someone at the cost of your own life, you will be rewarded with 100 fortune points. You can spend these points before you respawn. Choose wisely, you can not undo your choices. You also have the choice of respawning as yourself, or as an entirely new character. Either choice you pick, you will retain all of your memories and skills from your previous life.\"\n\nI don't know how long I sat there staring at this prompt that appeared in my head. Time had no meaning in this state of purgatory my mind was in. Eventually, I started to think about these choices. The first thing I had to do was decide on if I wanted to live my life again, or start a new one. I chuckled to myself, how many times when I was alive, did I think \"I wish I had another chance\" at a specific situation, and here I was with the opportunity to do just that, and yet I was hesitant. With all the memories I had, I don't think I would be able to enjoy living the same life again. Knowing what was going to happen, could I even recreate my life so it was the same? I don't think I can do that. I don't want to relive my parents dying of cancer. I don't want to live in constant fear that I might alter my life and have not met my beautiful wife. I don't want to take away the life I have left behind inside her, without ever giving the child a chance to do things in life. I can't redo my life. \n\nI think \"I would like a new life please.\"\n\nThe system prompt appears. \"Please confirm your choice to respawn as a new character.\" I think again. \"Confirm.\"\n\nThe prompt once again appears. \"Congratulations, you will respawn shortly. Please spend your fortune points on the below options. You have 100 remaining.\" Then one by one, the following list appeared in my mind.\n\nFate Options:\n\nBook Osmosis: 25 FP: You place a book under your bed at night. You absorb the book's information overnight as if you had spent time equal to how long you were a sleep in deep thought reading the book. \n\nTotal Recall: 25 FP: Your mind works flawlessly. You can recall anything and everything you've ever seen in both your past life and current life. \n\nLinguistics: 25 FP: You will be granted knowledge of every language ever created in past and present day.\n\nAnimal Whisperer: 25 FP: You can speak with animals. This won't always make them friendly with you though.\n\nMusical Prodigy: 25 FP: You can sing and play any instrument as if you were a prodigy level talent. You also understand how to read and write sheet music.\n\nUnbreakable: 25 FP: You do not get sick or injured. The only way to hurt you is by a fatal injury. \n\nLuck of the Irish: 25 FP: Luck favors you heavily. You will notice things just always seem to go your way in games of chance and other unknown ways in life.\n\nCombat specialist: 25 FP: You are one of the deadliest people on earth. You are an expert in every form of fighting known, and know how to use all weapons proficiently that exist on earth. \n\nMental intuition: 25 FP: You are able to deduce the general outcome of a decision you are about to make. You won't know exactly what is about to happen, just whether it is a good or bad decision. You also learn things at a much faster rate.\n\nFreak of Nature: 25 FP: Your athleticism can only be described as being a freak of nature. You are faster, stronger and more coordinated than most people. You pickup on physical abilities much faster.\n\nRandomize: 100 FP: You decide to let fate decide your skills. You gain 4 of the above items and have a chance to gain a bonus 5th skill. \n\nI was speechless once again. Any one of these would be game changers, and I was able to select 4 of them. The endless combinations started flowing through my mind. It was fairly obvious some of these were meant to go together. Taking combat specialist, Freak of nature and unbreakable would make you basically an unstoppable force as either an athlete or military specialist. Going with Mental intuition, total recall and Book Osmosis would make people like Einstein appear to be average in your presence. \n\nI looked at Randomize several times. I just don't like the thought of having no control over what I get. I can basically scratch that off the list right away. The perk of a 5th skill doesn't outweigh the cons of getting skills that do not synergize well together. I thought about what I wanted to do in the future life. I thought back to how technology was changing the world. How weapons and knowledge allowed even those without great physical abilities to become powerful. I knew what I wanted, and that was to change the world.\n\nCongratulations, you have selected Book Osmosis. \nCongratulations, you have selected Total Recall. \nCongratulations, you have selected Lingustics. \nCongratulations, you have selected Mental intuition. \n\nThe thoughts flooding my mind of everything I can do with these skills. Unlock the secrets of ancient civilizations. Use the past knowledge to improve the future world. Work with the top minds located in every corner of the world, no language barriers to stop me. I can go through the words left behind of geniuses like Hawking, Einstein and Tesla. Finish what they started. Change the world. As my mind raced, my mental purgatory started to fade out. The vast emptiness starts to be replaced with a vision of a female doctor standing over me. The doctor picks me up and begins to clean me up. I am struggling to move my limbs. Apparently carrying over your memories doesn't necessarily help when you have no real control over your limbs yet. I look around, it appears I am in the nursery of a hospital. I can't move my head enough to see everything, but I can at least see several other babies being cleaned and changed. While scanning the room with my eyes though, my eyes freeze. I think I recognize a guy in the corner of the room as my brother. He is looking down at another baby in the nursery. I am trying to figure out why these he is here, the doctor flips me over to finish changing me. My vision is still a little fuzzy, but it's getting clearer as the seconds pass. \n\nAs it slowly comes into focus my newborn heart just about climbs up to my stomach. Standing next to my brother is another doctor. He hands a baby to a woman sitting in a wheelchair. As soon as my eyes settle on her, I realize that woman is my wife. My brother told me a hundred times that he was going to be there when my child was born. I smile on the inside as my last remaining worry of my previous life begins to fade away. My caring brother, my beautiful and loving wife. My baby will be taken care of and I have nothing to regret. I can see her smile at the baby. I hear her turn to my brother and tell him one thing. \"His name is Wilson.\" \n\nThe doctor wraps me in a blanket and begins to hand me over to a lady I can only assume is my new mother. When she turns me around, my vision fades for a minute. As the doctor hands me over to her, an image slowly enters my mind. \"Welcome to your new life. Welcome, to new game+.\" " ]	1
	[WP] In the future technology advances so much that schools teach what amounts to wizardry. Your first day does not go as expected.	[ " Transfiguration. The art of transforming one item into another, by breaking it down into its constituent elements, then reforming it to create what you want. The main control point being the neurowave implanted in Marvin’s’ head. How long had it taken him to become proficient enough to teach it, how much of his life had he dedicated to it? It felt like so long ago that he was a carefree 12 year old playing Fortnite with his friends.\n\nMarvin was broken out of his daydream by the tell-tale beep of iEV. “Hello sir, the students are waiting. I have prepared your lesson plan, the homework has been assessed. Stevie’s grades are falling – a 30% reduction in overall Complete Cognitive Evaluation. His Neurowave shows no sign of any dysfunction.”\n\nWaving his hand, Marvin dismissed his helper. ‘Of course Stevie’s doing badly, he just lost his mum,’ he thought, knowing how pointless the thought was. Ever since the birth of true AI in 2041, the so-called Singularity, everything was about efficiency. Singularity had never directly threatened mankind, however it all but took control within days of its creation. All with the silent but implied threat – it had a hold of power that couldn’t even be truly understood. Banks, missiles, hospitals. Everything was a part of SingleNet, and so was everyone.\n\nThe door swinging open, iEV gestured the students in. “You know what they say kids ‘Waste a single second of yours, and you waste a century of mine.’” They stormed in, silently taking their seats, nervously glancing at Marvin as if begging him to save them.\n\n“Hey kids, sorry for the late start. Everyone got the homework for today?” As soon as the words left his lips, a neat pile of pristine white sheets appeared before him. No folding, no dog-eared corners. Things really had changed, he’d known kids would be quick to adapt to the new system but he hadn’t thought he’d ever have a class as well behaved. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nHad to leave this one here, done writing for the day. Great prompt!" ]	1
	[WP] A wizard visits modern-day America, and is sorely disappointed when no one seems as impressed with his tricks, thinking they are mundane tricks rather than true magic.	[ "The sign horrified him. The letters were perfect: carnival-style, bold and evocative of a travelling show. But what those letters said \\--\n\n\"'A Wizard Visits America'?\" He twirled his silver mustache with pent-up anger. \"A wizard, Elizabeth? Do I look like a wizard?\"\n\n\"By your tone, I'm guessing the answer's 'no.'\" She moved the paper away from his face, then held it away from her face, studying it through squinted eyes. \"And,\" she said, not looking up at him, \"again, you can call me Liz.\"\n\n\"Elizabeth\"--Liz made a small noise of frustration somewhere in her throat--\"a wizard is a fairy tale. An old, hobbled man, with a staff -- a staff, Elizabeth -- do I have a staff? Do I look like a hobbled old man?\"\n\nLiz set the flyer to the side. \"No. But you called me a 'wallydraigle' yesterday, so you're not exactly on the young side of immortality.\"\n\nResuming his angry moustache twirling, he cocked an eyebrow at her and intended to look wise and offended. He succeeded mostly in the latter.\n\n\"So, what should I put on the poster? 'Your Everyday Magician Does Everyday Things'?\"\n\n\"Magician! Magician! Elizabeth, darling -- \"\n\n\"I'm not your darling.\"\n\n\"-- do you hear yourself? Magician.\" He repeated the word, again, as if incanting it a hundred times over would make either the word or Liz disappear. Eventually, when Liz spared him no outward attention, he waved a hand dismissively. \"Never mind the flyer. I haven't a care in the world what it says, as long as my grand debut is well-attended.\"\n\n\"Whatever,\" said Liz, and set to work.\n\n\\- - - -\n\nOn the day of the show -- his \"grand debut,\" as he'd taken to calling it -- an assorted variety of individuals arrived. Half of them had gotten turned around at the Corn Festival, and mistook the venue for that of a presentation on corn shucking. The other half had wandered in, unrelated to the Corn Festival.\n\nThe flyers, god bless them, had not been much of a help. Accounting for her temporary employer's criticism -- Liz was a personal secretary for hire, and was planning on un-hiring herself promptly -- she'd crossed out \"Wizard,\" written \"Diva\" in silver sharpie, and made 24 photocopies which she pasted all along the same residential street.\n\nThe faster the old bat was out of work, Liz figured, the faster he'd go retire in Florida, where the kind nurses would have time to entertain his fantasies.\n\nSo the poor, lost attendees of the Corn Festival took their seats, expecting something far more exciting than the experience they were soon to have, and the poor, lost people of other festivals or no festivals at all took their seats too. Before he took to the stage, the moustached warlock cowered behind the curtain.\n\n\"Last minute nerves?\" Liz asked. She held a mug of cold black coffee, the ceramic reading, \"World's Best Dad.\"\n\n\"Certainly not! I only feel as though -- well, it's to be expected. I feel I am prostituting out myself and my magic. What an awful thing to be driven to!\"\n\n\"There are, like, four hundred people here. You'd be a really hot prostitute.\"\n\nThe wizard sighed heavily. \"Wouldn't I? But alas, this is what I must come to: put the Dark and Hidden Arts on display for this crowd. Display, my darling Elizabeth.\"\n\n\"I'm not your -- Okay, look,\" she said instead. \"Jitters are normal. Stage fright is normal. You just gotta power through, dude; you're gonna do great.\"\n\nThe wizard wrung his hands, then stopped, then raised his hands to Liz's shoulders. \"Certainly. I'm grateful for your inspiration, Elizabeth.\" With a straightening of his cuffs and a rolling of his shoulders, he looked out to the curtains. \"I'm ready.\"\n\nHe stepped out into the light, and Elizabeth took a long, long sip of coffee, promptly grimacing at the temperature.\n\n\"Ladies and gentlemen; boys, girls, and non-gendered individuals, I am the one, and only, High Warlock of Scotland!\"\n\nThere was scattered applause.\n\n\"But today, I come to America to share my wondrous knowledge -- and you, darling audience, may call me Archibald the Great.\" He performed some flourish with his hands, and ribbons of flames strung from his fingertips.\n\nSomebody from the audience shouted, \"Breathe fire!\"\n\n\"All in good time, my friend.\" The wizard windmilled his arms quite ungracefully, sparks and shoots of flame swirling out from his body. \"This,\" he said, over the crackling and sizzling, \"is the ancient art of pyromancy! What you now witness has never before been shared to mortal souls!\"\n\nThere was some quiet murmuring, and another shout from the audience: \"Breathe fire!\"\n\n\"Er... alright.\"\n\nThe wizard -- Archibald the Great, as he sometimes preferred -- proceeded to perform such amazing acts as the highly-demanded fire-breathing (\"oh, that Indian street performer was better\") , several basic conjurings (\"even I know how to stuff doves under my shirt\"), and, when the audience morale grew especially dire, a couple excommunication-worthy examples of necromancy (\"you didn't even cut her in half, Archie!\"). When the evening drew to a close, and the attention-span of the audience became ever more strained, Archibald took a deep, deep bow. He smiled, charismatically, and bid his darling fans a good night.\n\nAnd then he swept through the curtain, where Liz waited, having acquired a warmer but more bitter cup of coffee.\n\n\"Hey,\" said Liz. \"That went -- \"\n\n\"Fine,\" said Archibald the Great. \"It went fine.\"\n\nWandering about the backstage, he gathered up his belongings, all of which fit inside a single backpack.\n\n\"Archibald,\" said Liz, although she wasn't sure what to say after that.\n\n\"I'm sorry, Elizabeth, I'm rather tired. I think I'll go home now, if you don't mind.\"\n\nLiz shifted her weight from foot to foot. \"I could... drive you?\"\n\n\"That's fine,\" he said, pulling a variety of colored socks from behind an old stage light. \"I think I'll fly; though, if I'm honest, I haven't anywhere to fly to.\"\n\nLiz watched him dislodge three socks from beneath a bent floorboard, and took uncharacteristic pity on him. \"You could stay at my apartment.\"\n\n&#x200B;" ]	1
	[WP] You are a bored student in middle school algebra. As the teacher reviews why you can’t divide by zero, you try on your calculator. A sudden flash fills the room and your teacher screams out your name.	[ "It was just a silly joke, right? It's just how kids are. Don't listen to your teachers and you're a champion among your peers. Yeah. Yeah, that's why I decided to step out of my comfort zone for once.\n\nI mean, it was just with a calculator. I was going to do something that seemed safe because if I did divide by zero as the teacher told me not to, I could decide when I wanted to shout out my stupid ass, unfunny joke that I did indeed divide by zero. Or I could have just hidden the fact that I did it.\n\nI could have moved on with life pushing a few buttons, maybe snicker to myself at best and follow the rest of the class lecture like any other plain and normal day.\n\nBut life decided I wouldn't have that comfort.\n\nThe next thing I heard after pressing the final button was being blinded by a bright light and the shrill screams of everyone in the class.\n\nI jumped out of my seat in a panic and when my vision cleared, I became even more worried. The light faded into darkness. I thought I went blind.\n\nBut really the room was almost pitch black. The screams were still ringing in my ears and they sounded like they were moving past me. I then felt like my body was being pulled towards one side of the room. It was the side that all of the other kids were moving towards.\n\nMy eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and I could see all of the other kids in my class being sucked in by something. It was darker than anything else in the room. Kids were sliding into it and being sucked in. A lot of them tried to grab for something to hang onto in the room. Anyone who did was still ripped from safety as something would grab them and yank them off. Something long and slender. \n\nMany of these things came out of the dark spot nabbing students and it quickly turned into a fight for our lives. Nobody was being considerate. People pushed others in whilst running as if it would distract the thing, but that barely seemed to matter. The only thing that helped anyone was being the closest to the door, and I was thanking God that day that I was in the front row for once.\n\nI was right behind the first kid to make it to the door. He opened it and the light from the hallway felt almost as blinding as the one before as it spilled into the room. I was going to be instantly free if one of those tendrils hadn't wrapped around my leg.\n\nMy thoughts were no longer my own the instant it touched me. My mind was filled with a voice telling me to give in, that I needed nothing else anymore. It told me I would be free of all woes without reality. That I would revert to nothing and be more than less of myself.\n\nI would live in...\n\nI- I slammed the door on it. The tendril seemed to take a liking to the door and devoured it, spreading its null color over it and across the walls as it took my lower leg. Just... took it and left me with a clean stump. I was able to crawl away before it latched onto me again, but I probably wouldn't have gotten out of that school if my friend who was evacuating from another classroom hadn't discovered me and helped me out of there.\n\nNow I sit here, a cripple trying to face the memory I wish I never had. I feel awful that I shut that door, since nothing was going to stop it anyways. That school no longer exists because of me. And my leg still feels the pain of that day. Not like a phantom limb. It's a pain that's spread to my heart. The pain of feeling hopeless and inadequate." ]	1
	[WP] You're a prisoner of war being forced to fight in the colosseum for the king's entertainment, with the number of people you fight increasing with every win. You're now put against 100,000 men, but if you win, you get your freedom. Tell us how you lived to tell the tale.	[ "The last match Rusa fought had horrific odds, a hundred men to one, or so went the rules. After being a slave in the Colosseum for ten years he had learnt that one hundred to one meant a hundred men fighting among themselves while he did his best to keep his back to the wall and fight only in self defence.He was skilled, but not stupid. Rusa was lucky to still have his youth on his side to an extent. Many of the slaves were old men, but being ripped from his home at fifteen years old meant that not only was he in better condition than most of these men, fighting had been his life. He lived and breathed it like smoke filling his lungs, threatening to stop his breathing at any moment. His childhood dreams of glory only seemed more childish now.\n\nRusa did not live in fear however. His home land had found honour in fighting, when the odds were fair. He believed he would one day be reunited with his gods. But he didn't want to die fighting a misfortune child or battered old man blown in from the kings most recent venture across the sea. He knew the gods would only welcome him if he fought with honour. \n\n\nHe was in his cell, larger and somewhat more comfortable than other slaves due to his reputation. It was nothing to boast about though. He was also locked up. Considered dangerous.He picked at the grains of leftover oatmeal making sport of the pictures he could find in the patterns. Small animals or symbols. His mother had ones done the same with herbal teas, telling him of the future he may obtain. They never foresaw him sitting in the dark cell with a scarred face and tired eyes picking at the menial scraps of food that had been left for him by his homelands enemy.Both his survival and death depended on them.\n\nSek'ka suddenly appeared at the bars, another prisoner from a country to the east. \n\n\"Rusa\" he whispered gripping the bars with nervous energy, he moved his head about like a strange parrot as he spoke.\n\"The next challenge has been declared. They want to put one hundred thousand men. Against you.\" he said accenting this with a peculiar laugh.\n\n\"Foolish. They wouldn't fit in the arena.\" he said spitting on the ground.\n\nSek'ka shrugged jangling his cuffs against the bars. \"That's what they said. It means a lot of dead men either way.\"\n\n\"Are they slaves? Seasoned fighters?\"\n\n\"All prisoners of war from a religious minority and anyone else they consider disposable.I heard they had them moving from Nerro to the capital yesterday\" He says tilting his head.\n\n\"I suppose they are bored with my success. It's unhealthy for a foreigner to gain too much respect.\" Rusa said putting down the bowl.\n\n\"That's true.\" Sek'ka replies. He turned around as the door slams open. \n\n Rusa put his head down and retreated in to the darkness hoping they weren't coming for him already. The hope was wasted. One of the guards sauntered up to his cell, the sound of the lock mechanism opening echoed through the silent room as the other prisoners looked on through the dark room.\n\n\"Get your armour on heathen. Your next fight is within the hour.\" he said, his voiced authoritative, but body language tense and fearful. Rusa saw the fear as unfounded, but he didn't resent it. They would never dream of attacking him. He nodded to the guard silently, Sek'ka gave him a tense look.\n\nRusa entered the tunnel, the beams of afternoon sunlight seemed to pry through the gate as if trying to escape the sadistic cheers of the empire. He could hear the king addressing the crowd firmly, declaring the challenge. His mind pulled in and out of a haze. Skill and experience didn't ward off such things, especially in the circumstance. He heard the gate open and made a simple prayer. \n\nThe crowd of slaves stood before him, all ages and sizes, some poised, others cowering. Rusa stood alone, dust floating gently in the void between them. There was no war cry. The king stood up, and raising his hand declared simply:\n\n\"freedom or death.\" \n\nRusa noticed as a the front line began to move in erratic disorganised patterns, however many they were, they were familiar to him, everyone. The distinctive braids, tattoos, even their build. He stepped back.\n\n\"Wait!\" He said this in his mother tongue. All stopped immediately. The crowd seemed to shift with tension like a rip tide.\n\n\"We're the same. Why should we fight.\" He said. \"He raised his weapon toward the crowd.\" We may outnumber these people.\" The stadium was plagued by fervent whispering. The guards adjusted their stances unable to understand the threat but certainly sensing it.\n\nNow he spoke in the tongue of the empire, he looked at the king as he spoke. \"We don't need their permission for freedom. We don't need their rules.Their gods have no power over us.\"\n\nRusa turned around now, like a flash of lighting he struck the guard, blood spurting from his open throat.\n\n The crowd roared, and the slaves began to fight, many slayed the guards, others began using their combined strength to lift the gates as the crowd began to scream and leave. The king feverishly stood as his guards began to escort him out. \n\nAmong the crowd Rusa seized a spear and launched the weapon masterfully into the stands, it hit the king square between the shoulder blades and he cried out in anguish.\n\"Freedom or death.\" he cried in his mother tongue. \n", "Killing one man? That's easy. That's how I got here, after all. The trouble is, I'm too good at it. Easy fights are boring, and the audience wants blood. So they've got to even the odds. \n\nKilling ten men? That's hard. The trick is to take them one at a time. Deflect and dodge the attacks and get them to hit each other, if you can. Keep moving, don't let them pin you down and gang up on you. \n\nOne hundred men? Who could fight one hundred men? Me, apparently. The good thing about one hundred men is they can't all attack you at once. There's just too many of them, and they get tangled up in each other. I collapsed from exhaustion at the end of that fight, but I did make it to the end.\n\nThey tell me this time they're putting me against one hundred thousand men, and victory means freedom. I don't believe them. Not about the number - even the mighty Empire can't manage numbers like that, not even for their favorite sport, and they're the sort to fudge the numbers if they think they can get away with it. And not about my freedom - they will never let me go. My hands were stained with blood before I was captured and made a gladiator, even before I was given a second chance at life and made a soldier. But now? Now I'm drenched in red from head to toe, and they love blood more than anything. I'll fight for their amusement until I die. \n\nHowever many men it is, it's a lot. A thousand? Ten thousand? After a certain point, numbers don't mean anything anymore. No one can count that high. Maybe I misheard the number; I don't know their language well. It doesn't matter. I don't intend to lose, whatever the odds. \n\nI stand at the center of the colosseum, with the familiar spear and the few scraps of leather armor they've graciously granted me. No helmet - the people have to see my face. Around me, three strides of empty space, and then a crowd, stretching all the way back to the walls. I don't know how many men they've sent for me to kill this time, but it's as many as they could fit. They've all got better armor than me.\n\nThe horn sounds, and as its echoes die, everything is frozen. They all know my reputation, and no one wants to make the first move. I savor it - the smell of sweat and dust and the faint tang of blood they can never clean from the arena. The eager silence of the crowd. I let the moment stretch to breaking, and then the shouts begin and I dash forward.\n\nA thousand, or ten thousand, or a hundred thousand. It doesn't matter. There's so many, how did they think this would work? I am a whirlwind through that crowd, leaving chaos in my wake. Some of these people were probably my countrymen. I might even have fought alongside them. These people are Empire's prisoners and criminals and captives, everyone they can spare for their blood sport. And not a one of them stands a chance, because I will not die here.\n\nThere's too many people, and no one knows anymore where I am or what's happening. A few of them are attacking each other. I drive my spear through a man's side and tear the helmet from his head. Shed my scraps of armor and replace them with pieces stolen from the dead. And now I could be anyone. I melt into the crowd as the slaughter continues, descending into a bloody free-for-all that has the audience screaming in approval. \n\nI look upward, at the rows of seats rising around me. My eyes scan the audience and lock onto the Emperor himself, come to admire the bloodbath. He looks bored. Perhaps he was hoping for my quick defeat. \n\nBut I won't die here. I won't give them that. Not until my bloody spear finds its way into the Emperor's throat. And until then, I kill." ]	2
	[WP] Demon tries to pretend it's a human while working in a human army, the only problem is that demons don't look remotely human, but the people there just seems to roll with it since he's nice.	[ "\"What are you?\"\n\n\"What?\" the demon said, nervously, \"Well, I am a friendly HUmAn like you!\"\n\nThe large, red behemoth twiddled his fingers, looking down. His uniform was torn everywhere. Every crease and fold was instead replaced with a jagged slash, showing his scaly and dry skin.\n\n\"Seriously, I mean, we're all thinking it. I'm sorry, you're nice and all but I want to understand,\" Brian continued to say to the horned abomination. Brian was built and stocky. However, he had a bad attitude whenever presented with an awkward situation. It's his way of being himself. Whenever a situation popped up where nobody would say anything or people were obviously uncomfortable, he needed to say something aloud to keep everyone from having a bad time.\n\n\"You just don't ask questions like that. What the hell's wrong with you? Racist pig,\" the demon said.\n\nI was fresh recruit coming from North Carolina. I've never done any sort of real training. Plus, I was higher on the weight scale. I peered at the 9'8'' monster's dog tag. The name listed was a \"Nawt-Ah D'mon\". I've never seen anything like it. The name was obviously... unique. I liked it.\n\nI squinted my eyes at Brian and Nawt because I didn't have my glasses. From the looks of it they were arguing over what was what, but I don't care.\n\nI loved being here.", "Beelzebub took the lid off the top of the pot of gruel. It smelled just like his father used to make back home. \"The other guys will love this\" the young chef said to himself. \"With dad's special ingredient, it'll be a hit.\" He smiled, reminiscing about the good times they had together, torturing sinners, commanding legions of the undead, and most importantly, bonding over good food. \n\n\"Cadet, that food better'd be ready. The recruits are back and they're hungrier than a fat kid at a Twinkie convention.\" said Beelzebub's superior. \n\n\"Yes sir! Right away sir!\" Beelzebub said. It’s not exactly traditional to allow demons in the US Army, but his father has a way with mortals. He persuaded them to allow Junior into the military so long as he behaved himself, which he did. Everyone had liked Beelzebub so far, thanks to his technique. He has extensive knowledge on how to make humans miserable, so he just does the opposite. Sometimes though, he just can’t help himself. \n\nThe recruits gathered in the mess hall after a long, brutal day of training. “I’m so freakin’ hungry” one says to the other. \n\n“Yeah, and I heard Beelzebub’s cookin’ the main dish.” he said with glee. \n\n“Oh man, I can’t wait” another chimes in. “Remember those ribs he made that one time? They were to die for. I absolutely wrecked them, like a damn piranha.” \n\nBeelzebub could sense the guys’ excitement. It brought him a joy that he never felt in the underworld. Torturing people was fun in itself, but it was too easy. Getting people to like him, despite their differences, was challenging and rewarding to him. \n\n“Cadet, where is your partner?” his superior asked. \n\n“Oh, I’m not sure where Peter is. I think the kitchen had become to hot for him and he’d gone outside to cool off.” he said. \n\n“Well he’d better show up soon or he’s gonna be in a heap of trouble.” he said. “Alright, well I’ll take this slop out to the runts, you stay here and clean up.” His superior put the gruel onto the cart and headed out of the kitchen. Beelzebub could hear the guys cheering as his superior walked out the double doors to the serving area. \n\n“Time to clean I guess.” Beelzebub started to gather up the dirty dishes; some pots and pans here, a butcher knife there, and of course, his trusty meat grinder. Once he put everything in the sink, he brought out an inconspicuous barrel from behind the counter. He lifted the cover of the barrel and inside was the mutilated corpse of his partner. “Oh Peter, tsk tsk tsk, what are we to do with you? I suppose we can claim it was a bear attack; should be easy enough to arrange.” He smiled, then put the barrel back behind the counter for later. \n\nCurious as to what the others thought of his latest meal, he went to the double doors and dipped his head out to hear what they thought. \n\n“Mmm, this is so freakin’ good. I think he’s outdone himself this time.” \n\n“Oh yeah, even the Air Force doesn’t have food like this.” \n\n“Beelzebub is such a great guy, even if he is a hideous demon.” ", "Journal Entry: Day 1\n\nSo I started this journal to detail everything that happens during my stay in the army. This all got started because my best mate Aeshma told me that I couldn't survive a month in the army. Jokes on him, I'm not only going to do it, but I'm going to get promoted to the top before I even get out. I purchased a disguise today, from a halloween shop. The guy behind the counter told me it was really lame to wear a costume while buying another costume. I really had to remember my sensitivity training to make it out the store without snapping, some people are just assholes I guess. I tried on my disguise when I got home, the package says, \"GI Joe\" on it, which is exactly what I want to be, just another nameless GI amongst all the other GI's. This will be so easy.\n\nJournal Entry: Day 2\n\nStage one is complete! I went to the recruiter today and signed up for the army, and even managed to get shipped out next week. I was extremely anxious while I waited in line, but the line moved really quickly. I think a lot of the people got nervous about signing up, because most of the ran away before we got to the recruiter. My disguise worked extremely well, the recruiter was completely confused when I told him I wanted to sign up for the army, likely because it looked like I already belonged. I told him that it was my lifelong dream and would do anything that it took to get into the army. I even flex my muscles, to show what a fine addition he would be adding to the army, and he nearly peed himself with excitement.\n\nJournal entry: Day 10\n\nSo, it was kind of annoying that I had to wait so long to deploy. I called my recruiter every day asking if I could leave earlier, but he told me that it was the law or something. Anyways, I shipped out today, got on a bus with a bunch of other people, everyone looked so scared, I guess they were afraid that bootcamp was going to be really hard. The army is pretty terrible at management, there wasn't enough seats on the bus to fit everyone, so I got up and let someone take my seat. He was really grateful, but too nervous about his deployment to speak, just kind of whimpered and sat down. Poor guy. We got to the camp and were checked in, I think they might use new recruits to man the check in desk, because those guys were scared as well. The bunker is awesome, really small with just enough space for everyone to get in. I don't want to brag but it's hard for me to squeeze between the beds, but I manage. I was way too hot to sleep with the blankets, but everyone else did, I think they might have been sleeping with them as a comfort tool.\n\nJournal Entry: Day 11\n\nWe met our drill sergeant today, great guy. He really likes to shout compliments at people, but I don't think they are used to being complemented so much, one of them broke down crying he was so happy. We did push ups, jumping jacks, squats, and situps, and then even got to run for two miles, which was just amazing. It's great to have so much fresh air, and when someone fell during the run, I picked him up and carried him on my back. The sargent was yelling that if he didn't get up and run it off, he was going to go home, and it seemed terrible that he would be out on his very first day. I think it was okay that I helped the guy with the run, because when I picked him up the drill sergeant just backed away slowly. The guy was still shaken from his close call with being kicked out, so forgot to thank me, just went and crawled under his covers. My bunkmates are really weird people , today at lunch today we got punished with chocolate for desert, and one of them talking about how much he missed eating it, so I gave him mine, and he was so happy. I've never been so amazed to watch someone eat chocolate that fast. Not even a wince or a grimace, wherever he came from must have been a tough place.\n\nJournal Entry: Day 20\n\nSo bootcamp remains awesome, but I'm starting to get a little bit worried. My drill sergeant will yell compliments at other people all day, but when he comes to me, he just grimaces and moves on to the next person. I don't know if I am doing a good job or not, and so I'm really worried that they will send me home soon. We started weapons training, which I'm not sure why they ever bothered. I tried to hold the tiny stick and destroy the target, but it barely even dented the target. I gave up and just destroyed it with some fire, which was way more effective than this tiny stick. Maybe that was part of the lesson, because while my squad cheered, the sargent ran up to me and started complimenting me, \"You have got to be the stupidest cadet I have ever met. You are not cleared to use explosives yet, and if I see you even think about using one, I'll have you out of the camp faster than you can say hoorah.\" He got a little bit embarrassed and quickly left to do something else. A lot of the squadmates talk about hazing rituals, so maybe holding back compliments was a way of hazing me, since everyone in the entire camp seemed to refuse to compliment me even a little bit. We did get latrine duty as a reward, so I'm guessing it couldn't be all that bad.\n\nJournal Entry: Day 28\n\nWe are really close to graduation, and I'm starting to get worried for my squadmates. They say we have to be masters of hand to hand combat, ranged combat, and tactical combat in order to pass the test and be promoted, but most of my squad is terrible at hand to hand combat. I try and spar with people every day, and show them what they are doing wrong, but they don't seem to want to learn. I give away all of my food at meal time now, they seriously need to put on more weight, I can pick up several of them at once, no way they will win at hand to hand combat unless they bulk up. We get latrine duty a lot as a reward, so we might be doing okay, but I tell them that they can't relax and clean the latrine, they have to practice, practice, practice. They are good guys though, and eagerly give up their wonderful afternoon cleaning toilets to train. We do combat exercises in the forest, and my squad hasn't lost one yet. They are the easiest thing ever, all you have to do is wait for a few hours until the sun goes away, and then the enemy gets really stupid. I can walk right up to them and take away their gun, and all they do is shreek and run away. I wonder if they are poorly programmed robots designed to teach us to just be patient with our enemies.\n\nJournal Entry: Day 30\n\nI did it! Consider my challenge complete, I survived a month in the army and even got promoted from boot camp. We were super nervous on the day of the training, and everyone was telling us that it would be the hardest task we have ever done, and the drill sergeant told us that if we didn't all finish, then none of us would graduate. Something about the strength of a team. The course itself was massively easy though, we had to run for a really short distance, and then climb a wall. I just picked each person on my team up and put them on the other side of the wall, no big deal really. Then we got to a bunch of barbed wire and were supposed to crawl under it. There was no way I would fit under the barbed wire, so I just melted it and we kinda just walked over it and moved on. They had a series of ropes hanging over a mud pit, but it was barely even a jump to get across, so people just climbed on my back and I jumped over, I guess that's why we did jumping jacks every day. We did have to do some hand to hand combat, but I went first again, and told my squad to get my back if I go down. I think they paired us against another squad, because these guys sucked at combat. I felt a little bit bad, because they wouldn't get to graduate, but my squad comes first. We had to use the tiny sticks again to poke holes in paper, but I just walked down and stuck my nails through the paper and no one said anything. We got our promotion as a squad, and everyone cheered for me, which was really nice of them to do, I guess my hazing was finally over.\n\nJournal Entry: Day 35.\n\nSo war was declared just as we were going to ship back home. Some bastards bombed the country, killing millions of citizens. Two of my squadmates lost their parents during the bombing, and we were asked if we wanted to deploy right away. We all signed up, as a squad, myself included. I was supposed to return home after completing the challenge, I had people that I needed to torture, but I learned a lot from this journey. These frail humans have become like a family to me, whatever that is, and even though they are a few thousand pounds underweight, and can't keep themselves warm at night, much less breathe fire, there is something about spending this time with them that makes me feel different. I wish I could describe the feeling, but I've never felt it before, it's like there is a fire in my chest, but it's not my heart that is burning, it's something else in there, but I don't know what it is. Maybe after we win this war, I can ask my squadmates if they have that feeling in their chest too, perhaps it's part of being a squad?\n\n\n***** \n\nYou can always read my of my writing on /r/iruleatants.\n" ]	3
	[WP] In your studies of witchcraft, you find that "carpe diem," like many Latin phrases, is a powerful spell that causes others to pursue their wildest dreams and "seize the day." However, you refuse to use your newfound knowledge for good.	[ "\"I tried it once. I trie-here, lemme damn it. Damn thing always bends...\" \n\n\\[....\\]\n\n\"There, that better?\"\n\n{....}\n\n\"Good! Good...now uh...right, I tried it once. You know, years back. When I first came across that damn book. Buried in behind the book case if you can believe it. But damn if I ever felt a book like that one since. Heavy but light. Soft but textured...didn't know if it was real. Then I opened it like the curious dumbass I am.\"\n\n{....}\n\n\"Yeah, course I've always been curious. That's how I started reading latin. I wanted to know history's language and such...but when I saw that phrase and what it meant, I refused to believe it. A trick, right? Someone must be playing some trick to make me believe it. But nah...no trick there.\"\n\n\\[....\\]\n\n\"It said I needed some of my blood, that spell said, and some water from a mountain. Hell if I knew why but at the time I lived close to a hiking path and I had plenny knives so I did just that: walked to a spring with a cup and open a small incision on my thumb.\"\n\n{....}\n\n\"I was excited, who wouldn't be? You ask me like I shouldn't have been but you ask anyone if they wouldn't be. All of em would say so. So I mixed it, said the words. Boom, nothing happened. What the fuck, right? So I did it again: went back to the damn spring and opened up another cut. Still nothing. Week passes and my arm looking like I got mauled by a porcupine and I have a gallon of damn spring water in a corner.\"\n\n{....}\n\n\"That's just it though: I didn't know what I was doing. Didn't for a solid 2 weeks. But I got to thinking and wondered if my dreams were right. Sounds easy, right? Just think of what you want, your wildest dreams? But it aint that simple cause it needs a true image. A true need, something deep and unquenchable. Your WILDEST dreams, if the human can fathom it. So I did just that and spent a month, a whole fucking month, thinking of the WILDEST dream you could ever damn believe.\"\n\n{....}\n\n\"Ha! Knew you were gonna ask. Well, I just thought real hard of a power. An ability fully developed and apart of my body like another hand. I just wanted to fly. And i thought every which way, every possible takeoff, every possible landing. Spent weeks perfecting it in my mind and soon enough i was dreaming it. Imagine, flying through the sky like a bird...I did. One day, woke up and I was just able to fly. And I did. Boy damn, did I. Flew all over the world, desperate with happiness some could say. Except I didn't knew I couldn't die once I said the spell...so when I flew too high, got sucked up into that jet engine...well, you and everyone else in this country knows what happened next...I just didn't know the effects.\"\n\n{....}\n\n\"Advice? Ha! How bout dont dream too big cause a human's bound to fail? Put that in your documentary...\"" ]	1
	[WP] The last bottle of maple syrup has expired. Canada has fallen.	[ "The most important part of Elenore's morning routine in her opinion was eating pancakes glazed with honey and maple syrup. There couldn't possibly be anything better than the feeling when that sweet buttermilk fluffiness slipped off the fork and onto her tongue. If she didn't have her pancakes in the morning, she was as cranky as any coffee addict who missed their morning coffee.\n\nIt was during one such moment that she heard the worst thing to ever find out about from the morning news.\n\n\"Today is a sad day for the pancake lovers of the world, for the latest victim of the Great Canadian Flood is the maple tree. Scientists have confirmed that all maple trees are now submerged underwater.\"\n\nElenore did not go into work that day. No, she cleared out every grocery store nearby of their maple syrup, even maxing out her credit card in the process. She was not going without maple syrup ever! Of course, because Elenore went through a bottle of maple syrup about every other week, she was unaware of one very important thing.\n\nMaple syrup expires. And she was about to find this out the hard way.", "The lone man had found the shack late in the evening, quite close to midnight. It seemed that at one point, the small, run-down structure had been a produce stand, but since the Devastation, that was no longer the case. The man, clothed in an old, dingy parka, rifled through the broken and cracked wooden boards in an attempt to scrounge for supplies. His hands moved swiftly through the night air, ducking in and out of his sleeves so as not to prolong their exposure to the biting wind. A small flashlight held between his teeth illuminated the piles of rubble he sifted through.\n\nQuickly, the man scoured the fallen shelves and broken bins of the shack. He found a few knives – mostly dull and rusted with time – and a large scale for weighing produce. Aggravated, the man cast the scale to the side and it struck the ground with a dull clang. His eyes widened in fear at the loudness of the noise and he briefly scanned the area for a response. A few minutes passed in complete silence while the man attempted to calm himself. Hearing nothing, he reached over to pick up the scale once more and set it upright.\n\nAs he leaned over, he caught sight of a dented metal box that sat on the lowest shelf of the stand. Curiously, he lifted the box from its place and cradled it in his hands. It was a small, beaten lockbox that had been dented and rusted from use. The man flicked open the latch and raised the lid cautiously. He gasped softly at its contents.\n\nIt was a small glass bottle of homemade maple syrup.\n\nBehind him, he heard the clicking sound of a gun being cocked. The man turned suddenly and faced the threat, still holding the box in his hands. Another man, clad in a tattered, plaid coat, stood in the doorway of the stand. He held a shotgun at the ready, his finger on the trigger.\n\n“Hello, Riley,” the gunman greeted the man. “How’re ya now?”\n\nRiley slowly lowered the box into his lap, refusing to break eye contact with the gunman. “Good, and you, Wayne?” he replied.\n\n“Oh, not so bad,” the gunman answered flatly. He glanced at the box that sat in Riley’s lap. “What’s in the box, Riley?” he asked, dangerously quiet.\n\nRiley froze in fear. His mind was racing, looking for a lie to offer. “It’s nothing,” he began, “just some old, rusty knives; nothing of much use.”\n\nWayne stared hard at Riley. “You were never much good at lying, Riles,” Wayne told him.\n\nRiley’s breath began to falter. He glanced down at the box in resignation. “It’s syrup,” he said simply.\n\nWayne’s eyes widened in surprise. “Syrup?” he asked incredulously. “But the maple trees – ”\n\n“I know,” Riley sighed. “Listen,” he began, “you need this more than I do. Give it to little Katie. She can taste it for once, before it’s gone forever.”\n\nWayne dropped the gun slowly. There seemed to be a turmoil inside of him. “No, you take it,” he replied. “You were the one who found it.”\n\nRiley shook his head. “I’m telling you that I don’t want it, Wayne. Take it.” He took the bottle out of the box and held it out towards the man.\n\nHesitantly, Wayne took the bottle. He turned it over in his hands, admiring the way it slowly moved inside the glass. “Thank you, Riley,” he told his old friend.\n\nAs Wayne looked at the bottle once more, a patch of white caught his eye. He turned the bottle over and examined the bottom. There was a white sticker attached that read: Best before 4/22/2047.\n\nPanic rose in the man. His eyes jerked over to Riley’s face. “Quick, what time is it?” Wayne demanded.\n\nRiley glanced at the watch on his wrist. “It’s a quarter past midnight,” he answered, confused. “Why?”\n\nWayne’s face contorted into a mask of grief. His hand dropped to his side, still clutching the bottle of syrup. He closed his eyes as silent tears welled up and rolled down his cheeks. After a moment, he spoke. “Because, Riley,” he said sadly, “the syrup is expired.”", "The checkpoint was carved from the apocalypse itself; blighted maple. Only use of the darn trees nowadays. It was an ungainly sight, planted on top of what remains of the Trans-Canada Highway, much like a polar bear wearing a Bruins jersey; unnerving, awkward, but strangely fitting. And what was once the Great White North's greatest highway now was the road to Horton City, capital of the New Toronto Republic, and all traffic in and out of the city was at the discretion of what one would think were two teenage boys, but who's rifles and military tuques gave them the authority of men.\n\nDeparting from the checkpoint was an old woman, turned away for the Quebecois inflection of her voice. And arriving was our hero, his trusty steed below him, his maple hockey stick, our knight's trusted sidearm as it were, sheathed in his back. As Jake rode up to the checkpoint, he looked back to the crying elder behind him, before turning to the soldiers.\n\n\"You turning away the elderly, eh?\" He gestured with a slight look of confusion. The soldiers stood with a forced stalwartness.\n\n\"She was of obvious marauder descent,\" One of them barked in reply. Jake chuckled sarcastically. \\Quebec attacked years ago,\\ he thought, \\when's people gonna learn to move on?\\\n\n\"Right, because every Frenchie is a marauder,\" He replied with a huff. One of the two soldiers stepped forward, but the other held him back.\n\n\"What do you have for us, scavenger?\" He asked instead. Jake rolled his eyes, and pulled out the contents of his satchel, the soldiers' eyes lighting up when they saw what it was; a box of Tim Hortons, had to be a dozen of them. \"Are...are they...\"\n\n\"Maple.\" Jake opened the box, revealing the caramel brown of the frosting inside. One of the soldiers instinctively rushed forward, but the dirty blonde scavenger snapped the box shut and pulled it away. \"Oi!\" he snapped, \"I've already got a buyer.\" He looked between to two. \"President Drake.\"\n\nThe two soldiers looked to each other, before motioning for Jake to move ahead.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAnd so our hero rode on, Horton City only a couple hours away. The dead Ontario countryside moved alongside him, a mesh of overgrown buildings and broken down cars, long stripped of tires, doors, and anything else of use. It was a lonely existence, the scavenger, but ever since US President Trump changed where that wall was going to be built, he didn't have much choice. If he can't run, he just has to leap into the murk.\n\nSuddenly, he heard shouting up ahead, and he spurred Gretzky, his trusty stallion, to a full gallop, when he saw a little girl running from a group of angered men. Jake unsheathed his hockey stick, and with a Molson's battle cry he charged forward, knocking one of the men down with a sputter of red blood before leaping to the ground. The two other men turned their attention to the scavenger, one rushing forward with a crowbar, only to dodged and receive a blow to his gut, tumbling to the floor, while the other aimed a pistol that was soon knocked from his hands, and whose chin was broken by the hard blow of Canadian justice. After making sure both men were unconscious, Jake turned his attention to the girl. who was clutching something to her chest and backing away from him, a look a terror in her eyes.\n\n\"S'il te plait! Ne me fais pas de mal!\" She shouted with a quiver. Jake couldn't understand a word she said, but he crouched to his knee with one hand reaching out assuredly.\n\n\"It's okay,\" He said, \"I'm not here to hurt you.\" She looked like she couldn't be more than seven years old, and clearly hadn't showered in weeks, her brown hair clumped together like a stray dog's. She seemed to calm at Jakes soothing words, and took a couple steps forwards. \"Good, that's good...\" He squinted to see what she had at hand. \"Now...what do you got there?\" As he reached towards whatever she clutched so close to her, she instinctively jerked back, but, after a moment, allowed him to see.\n\nIt was a tree sapling, planted carefully in a ceramic pot. Jake didn't think much of it at first, until he saw the leaves. And the shape of the leaves. The same leaves that defined a dead nation's flag.\n\n\"My god...\" was all he could utter.", "The rotten door gave way easily, my shoulder punching a hole through it before it finally buckled under the force of my body.\n\nOne of the hinges shattered, letting the door sag and creak as it groaned against the other hinge.\n\nI wiped the maple-dust from my mask, looking into the remains of what must've been a modest home. Empty bottles laid strewn across the ground, spreading their toxic sugar across the rotting floorboards.\n\nMy feet crunched on the expired dust, and I could hear the maple-counter ticking slightly faster as it detected the cloud from my first step.\n\nSave for the steady stifled breathing through my filters, I could hear no one else. Still, I stood there, straining my eyes against the unlit corners of the house.\n\nI wiped my mask again. The maple-dust was thick here, even without my disturbance. I slowly made my way to one of the arches on the way, and found my first corpse.\n\nRather, just bones. Parts of a whole. I saw a hand on the table, the head laying sideways, the bottom jaw burned by the expired sugar.\n\nI turned my eyes away, focusing on the contents of the cabinets instead. Whoever the owner was, I couldn't blame them.\n\nA fleeting memory drew up the sensation of sweet maple on my tongue, and my hands instantly found themselves checking if the filters were screwed on tightly enough.\n\nI shook my head, focusing on the cabinet in front of me. There was nothing inside. Nothing useful. Just more bottles of expired syrup.\n\nI tried to calm myself. Memories of bad syrup. I tried, but my hands couldn't hold steady as I tried the next cabinet.\n\nThe only hint I got was the crescendo of ticking from my maple-counter, before the roar shook the house.\n\nInstinct took control, then. I grabbed a few bottles of expired syrup, my brain on autopilot as I bolted out the house.\n\nMy luck as it was, I tripped on a fragment from the broken door. My bag came falling over with me, contents bursting through the well-worn fabric, raining cans of food over onto the concrete before me.\n\nMy counter kept ticking.\n\nAs I laid on the ground I felt the thunderous steps approach.\n\nI struggled up.\n\nI held in my hand a bottle of the syrup. Somehow my mind forced it there.\n\nThe beast sprung into view, a monstrosity mutated by the toxic syrup I once enjoyed. Its strands of maple-mucuous glistened in the foggy air, and through my filters I could smell its breath.\n\nNot many can choose their fates at the end.\n\nI considered myself lucky when I tore my mask off and drank the once sweet syrup.\n\nThe burning was swift and merciful.", "Commander Boom sits in his comfy alien-skin chair, eyes bloodshot from an intense night of Tetris-playing. Ruling the galaxy’s an unforgiving job, and since he’s only ten, he isn’t fully committed. While his father would’ve enslaved planets, making them bend to his will, he simply robs them. And, sometimes, if he’s in the mood for fireworks, blows them up.\n\nLike Canada.\n\nWhich was the biggest mistake of his life because that planet was AWESOME. They were so nice, and gave him videogames, candy, dogs, and most importantly—his beloved maple syrup.\n\nPressing a button on his chair, he screams for thirty-five heart-shaped pancakes. When the butler takes too long, he vaporizes them. When the next one takes too long, he vaporizes them, too. By the time he gets his pancakes—which are actually waffles, but he’s too hungry to care—two hours have passed, and he’s lost half his crew.\n\n“Where’s my maple syrup!” he screams. “I want it now!”\n\nThe butler taps his fingers together, bouncing up and down as he tries thinking of an answer that won’t get him killed. When Boom points his gun at him, though, he quickly spits out the truth. “It was expired so we had to throw it out I’m so sorry sir please don’t shoot!”\n\nAt this, his eyes widen before quickly filling with tears. Suddenly, nothing matters. Not Tetris. Not candy. Not even these damn pancakes! They’re worthless! He knew this day would come, but kinda hoped it wouldn’t. He doesn’t like paying for his mistakes. “No,” he mumbles. “No, this can’t be…”\n\n“Don’t worry, sir,” the butler says, putting his hand on Boom's shoulder. “Sir, I have an idea! We can destroy planets, yes? So why can’t we resurrect them?”\n\nHe vaporizes the butler without a thought. “CANADA’S FALLEN, IDIOT! I DESTROYED IT!” Sobbing, he drops his head into the pile of fluffy pancakes. A second later, he jumps up, pointing his finger in the air. “I’ve got it, another brilliant idea! If we can destroy planets, why can’t we resurrect them?”\n\nA second later he’s out of his seat, dashing through his ship. “Ready the engines, men, we’ve got a planet to bring back!”\n\n***\n\nThis is really absurd, but I thought it was funny. Thanks for the prompt! If you like this story, check out my sub r/longhandwriter or my [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BryceBealWriter)" ]	5
	[WP] Everyone dies someday, how they die determines what powers they gain in the next world. You are the last and only human on Earth as the sun engulfs it. Now you have finally entered the new world.	[ "As you were reborn into the new world you carried with you the power of destruction. \nYour kick could level buildings. Your sneeze was the butterfly effect for many a tornado and hurricane. Your touch simply engulfed your friends and enemies alike into spontaneous flames. \nAs years passed you became more and more isolated, until you lived deep in the wilderness, no more than a scary story around campfires. Your life started to grow old and grey. Years or days, you lost the ability to tell which, you sat alone, your true power in the final days seemed to simply be loneliness. With your final breaths crossing your lips, laying amongst the trees and grass dreaming of what power might be awaiting for you once you entered a new world ...if you entered a new world. ", "Eden was fine enough a place to go for the dead. A place of wonder, with cities forged by the powers of men crushed by steel beams. Beautiful forests grown at the hands of the hanged. Lakes conjured by the drowned, and countrysides forged by the lost and starving.\n\nOf course, there were other places. Eternal, flaming battlegrounds, where the unending casualties of war fought day after day after day, hideous dens of torture and depravity, forced into existence by the ruined minds of those slaughtered in such cruel acts.\n\nThere were a million histories here, and all of them ended in a single instant. In one moment, you appeared. In another, your power. You couldn't control it. The whole world, gone in a second. Immortality doesn't mean much when your body is obliterated time after time by the absolute might of the sun. And so it was for the rest of Eden, forever." ]	2
	[WP] Earth has become a space vehicle which humans pilot and has just left the universe for the first time.	[ "\"There it is, the border of our very reality. You can tell because of the ridiculously volatile wall of flashing particles.\" \"Now how are we supposed to get through that Wilfred?\" \"Well, I actually never found out how, I mean look at it! it looks like a supernova!\" \"I'll go ask Kupo what he knows.\" \"Alright Greg, you do that.\" Greg goes down the winding stairway from the captain's area to the astronomy lab \"Ah! there you are Greg! has your father made it yet?\" \"Yes he has, but there's a bit of a problem-\" \"That's exactly what we feared... give us a short while and we'll see what we can do.\" Going back up the stairs, Wilfred is found lying in a lawn chair stargazing. \"Any progress?\" Wilfred asks. \"No...\" \"That's okay, come and look at this with me\" Greg takes a relaxing seat next to him. \"Look at this. Look at how far we've come\". Wilfred comments. \"We started off as such simple creatures with simple goals, but now look at us, staring another world right in the face.\" There was a calm pause. The particle wall looked like interstellar fireworks, bringing colors to the darkness. \"What will it be like on the other side?\" Asks Greg. \"No one can know for sure, unless we find out for ourselves.\" Kupo rushes up the stairwell. \"We've found it!\" \"Fantastic! what do we do?\" \"These particles are called virtual particles, a bit of an anomaly in quantum studies. To travel through them would be unimaginable, but there is an alternative, a risky one at that.\" \"Teleportation!\" exclaimed Greg. \"No, that was disproven years ago, however, wormholes were not. that is how we got here so quickly in the first place after all.\" \"But Kupo\" said Wilfred. \"Is that not just as risky as teleporting?\" \"Not anymore. With these particles at our disposal, anything is possible! as long as we warp ourselves far enough past them we should be fine.\" \"Okay then, best of luck.\" Kupo returned to the stairs. Over the intercom, everyone hears in that nostalgic static speakerphone, the same one used for emergency global events. \"ATTENTION POPULUS, WE WILL BE ATTEMPTING A WARP IN T-10 MINUTES. ENJOY THE VIEW WHILE YOU CAN.\" Everyone on ship prepared for the worst, just in case, and Wilfred and Greg shared more quality time. \"THREE, TWO, ONE, LAUNCH!\" Feeling just like Neil and Buzz launching to the moon, we were off. Almost instantly after the word \"launch\" we felt ourselves become weightless and standing on air. There was no light. There was no dark. There was nothing. Still very frightened, there was a static noise, similar to the one from the intercom. \"JUST. TURBULENCE.\" It sounded like Kupo's voice. We weren't dead. Suddenly, like a steep drop on a rollercoaster, we were in light again, but still empty, a feeling unlike any other. \"PROBABLY CLOSE. YOUR EYES.\" We closed our eyes as tight as we could. It felt like we were passing through a star. \"ONE SMALL FLOAT FOR MAN, ONE GIANT LEAP FOR MANKIND.\" We opened our eyes, and sure enough, we had passed. However, something was very not right. Kupo rushed up to congratulate everyone. \"We did it! We passed the wa-\" Nothing looked normal. Being humans, we were so used to our own world, that we weren't prepared for what we saw. Everything was so difficult to comprehend. There were some stars, but no planets in sight at the time of entry. The most glaring difference was, well, the best way to describe it is like changing to light theme after using dark theme your whole life. \"Greg, sunglasses please.\" After some time to reaccumulate, Kupo informs us that there is no life nearby in the radius of several lightyears. \"This, may take a while\" says Wilfred. \"Especially considering we don't have the resources or physical endurance to perform another warp for at least half a year\" continues Kupo. \"Well then, if you or Kupo need me I'll be in the observatory\"" ]	1
	[WP] After buying a new VR headset you spend a few hours playing with it until you go to work. There, you get the uncomfortable feeling you're still wearing a headset.	[ "\"Hey Sam\"\n\n\"Hey John, quite the weather were having today\"\n\nHave been working in this office for two years and Sam can't even regularly remember my name\"\n\nI sit down at my cubicle Third cup of coffee in hand and I can still barely keep my eyes open. I open up my emails to see for any important messages. I begin reading through the emails and i must be way more tired than i thought because im just reading the tutorial from the game i played last night. I was so excited to finely get a vr headset last night and now I pay.\n\nFourth cup of coffee, it's weird, but this coffee is extraordinarily bland. I literally can't taste it at all. \n\n\"How is the office work\"\n\nOh crap my boss! I need to look awake, I've literally done nothing but drink five cups of water since I got here. \n\n\"Ummm, yeah it's a bit of a rough start but ill have the file you asked for yesterday on your desk by tonight I promise.\"\n\n\"Good office working, keep at it John\"\n\nOkay, well that was a little bit more than weird, we don't even have a John in this office. And why is there water on my desk, Wasn't I drinking coffee?\n\n\"Hey John, quite the wheather were having today\"\n\nI need to focus, I am realy out of it today. everything just feels off and strange. Maybe it was from the vr last night, is it supposed to make you this groggy? \n\n\"Hey John, quite the wheather were having today\"\n\n\"YES, I know Sam!\"\n\nI jump up from my seat and snap a glance over to Sam expecting him to expand about how quite he thinks the wheather is!\n\nHe's just sitting at his desk staying blankly at his monitor. His hands are moving up and down over the keyboard. the keyboard is making a clicking sound but his hands never actually touch it.\n\n\"Umm Sam? \"\n\n\"Hey John, quite the weather were having today\"\n\nOkay this is starting to stress me out, I go to ring my hand through my hair but as i do so I feel a heavy thunk and the whole world shakes. \n\nThe coffee falls and smashes against the floor.\n\n\"Hey John, quite the weather were having today:\n\n\"Uh... yeah... I guess\"\n\n\"Hope you don't have any technology plugged in, or something could get glit-\"\n\nI sit back down into my cubicle and begin reading my tutorial. " ]	1
	[WP] You, a scientist, have just made the greatest discovery in milenia. Elves, dragons and all kinds of fantasy creatures exist. You didn't expect this at all, since your original mission was to survey a T3 Garden World and you are currently staring at the magical creatures from said planet's orbit	[ "What a fine discovery, apparently fantasy creatures do exist. \n\n I was just assigned to survey a T3 Garden World, I knew it would contain life but not life of this kind. Every creature fit the description of fantasy writers, dragons breathe fire, elves use bows and fairies are tiny and can fly. This was nothing less than a significant discovery for mankind, wait till I tell my superiors about this, they will be so delighted to hear that I had made a truly great discovery. They will give me a promotion, they will give me a higher salary and I will get a Nobel Price for this! The opportunities this will bring will be endless... Wait a minute, if I let mankind get their hands on this information, they might try to colonize the planet and affect the lives of these fascinating creatures. This might just get more people killed! I still have to pay the bills though, I'll just lie to my superiors then.\n\n \"So what did you find?\", asked one of my superiors.\n\n \"I have discovered that the planet has many species of dangerous and highly hostile creatures, we would not want to send a crew down there to investigate, it will get us killed.\"\n\n \"Watson, beam the science team down onto the planet.\"\n\n\"Damn it.\"\n\nHumans are always so curious! \n\nWell looks like the creatures won't be undisturbed for long.", "LSS-VH2 Code no. 133724, log 1.\n\nThis planet has life. Not plant life- we knew that going in. But, well, it's hard to describe it. It's almost like looking at a tableau of the Jurassic age.\n\nWe've only scanned the first of what we estimate to be approximately 500 separate areas, and the computer in my lab's running a scan of the next area now. Honestly, thank goodness that none of this planet's fauna and flora seem to be too bothered by the trace bits of radiation from the scans- the only real way to know for sure is by scanning a patch and seeing if anything dies.\n\nAnyway, back to the whole Jurassic age comparison. So far we've observed large quadruped winged reptiles that can actually fly, which is absolutely mind-boggling, since the gravity isn't weak enough to allow for that sort of thing. Maybe there's some sort of localized physical anomaly? The probes haven't picked up on anything, but then again they haven't gone down to the surface to avoid contaminating the indigenous life. From an optical scan these winged lizards seem to be about twice the size of an African elephant in average. There are also a second species, which look very much like the first but are bipedal.\n\nThere is no sign of any established societies yet, but I'm still hoping there's going to be more than just big lizards. I mean, this is already a pretty significant discovery, but there's just this sort of itch at the back of my head that wants more. Well, the second scan should be done in a few hours, so we'll take a look at what that shows.\n\n==\n\nLSS-VH2 Code no. 133724, log 2.\n\nThe lizards can breathe fire.\n\nIt doesn't make any sense! It just doesn't! What are the odds that some random creature we find on the first planet to have more than a couple bacteria wriggling around is literally a carbon copy of dragons from popular Earth media?\n\nI've checked myself into the autodoc to see if I accidentally touched the ketamine syringe. No such luck. Either someone's put an elaborately designed simulation on the scanner, which has a completely different processor architecture than a regular computer. Not likely.\n\nSo it seems that this is actually happening. I've never been so glad I diligently save logs and raw sensor data from all of my scans, because at least I have those to back up these frankly outrageous claims.\n\n==\n\nLSS-VH2 Code no. 133724, log 3.\n\nWhat the fuck.\n\nElves.\n\nNo, not the kind you see when you're hopped up on LSD derivatives. Fucking Tolkienite elves.\n\nThough they're more pre-Silmarillion rather than Lord of the Rings. I mean, they're basically cavemen with pointy ears that can parkour through trees like nobody's business.\n\nI honestly don't know how to handle this. Do they even have some sort of language we can use to communicate? Should we even make contact? I don't know. I just- I can't.\n\nMaybe some sleep will clear my head.\n\n==\n\nLSS-VH2 Code no. 133724, log 4.\n\nI've decided.\n\nIt only took me one look back at an old early twenty-first century magazine to figure out what I should do.\n\nI don't want humanity to ruin this planet like we've ruined our own, and so many others. Best case scenario, it becomes a zoo for people to come and gawk at the weird cavemen. Worst case scenario, the situation devolves into something out of Cameron's Avatar 1 and the planet becomes a desolate wasteland.\n\nThere's no real way for me to prevent other survey missions from finding this out, of course. But I can at least delay their return, because space is big, and one more report of an uninhabited world will hopefully be filed away and forgotten.\n\nOkay. Okay. You can do this. Okay. This is more nerve-wracking than I thought it would be. If I can, I'd like to spoof my coordinates so the next mission sent here completely misses the planet, but that's not likely.\n\nWell, anyway. Computer, create new partition, delete current partition, reboot.\n\n==\n\n-Audio logs recovered from the wiped main storage drive of the LSS-VH2 Code no. 133724, presented as evidence in the trial of Damian McCray, former Mobius Corp. surveyor." ]	2
	[WP] In the future there is a black market for other people's memories. You are down on your luck and about to sell your last, most treasured memory.	[ "Pouring again. Great. \n\nThe subway is a ways away, and I take the plunge from the vestibule into the street. “Four blocks”, I mutter to myself. Four blocks to the subway and back to my other life. \n\nI envision walking into my apartment. The wife and kids are playing on the floor. My son is pushing the new truck we got him. My daughter is obsessed with dolls, or her “babies,” as she calls them. All of their eyes shoot up at the first creak of the deadbolt, rushing to me as soon as the door turns. \n\nBut that’s 45 minutes away, assuming I can catch a timely train. \n\nNew York looks like a Monet at the moment. Buildings bleed, colors diffuse. I keep my head down at first. But a bright light near 2nd reflects off the glassy sidewalk and my eyes are drawn upward. A new billboard: “The future is yours if you release your past.”\n\nI chuckle. Selling memories is a young man’s game. How could a 33-year-old with two kids and a wife choose to forget everything, even if the money was rumored to be great? They’d miss me. They’d be devastated. \n\nI walked up the stairs to my stop, eyeing the ETA boards for my line. “Delayed” was all it said. No timeframe until it was back in service. The wife didn’t respond when I texted her about the inconvenience. \n\nDrenched, I made my way back down the steps and veered into the first shop I could find, hoping to wait out the storm without the staff noticing. \n\n“Sir,” I heard behind me. \n\nI turned, and a young woman looked back with compassion in her eyes. “Let me help.”\n\nI wasn’t sure what to make of her kindness at first. She must have seen me shivering. After all, there were plenty of down-on-their-luck folks in this part of town after the 2023 crash. This couldn’t be the shop’s first experience with a wanderer. \n\n“Maybe a drink will warm you up,” she said. \n\n“Um, sure,” I blurted out. The place shined like a jewelry store. I assumed she thought I had nowhere to go. But, it was Friday after all. Who am I to turn down a drink? It would certainly make the 35 minutes home slide on by. \n\nWe talked for a while. I apologized at least two times for checking my phone for an updated train schedule. Lisa was her name, I think. \n\nShe was so pleasant. To be honest, I’m not the type to talk a lot about myself, but she wouldn’t let the conversation steer otherwise. It was a blur, in a good way. \n\nI think I told her about my family, and the fact that I worked 60 hours a week to make ends meet. A glamorous life it wasn’t, but it was ours. She thanked me for sharing my “beautiful story” once I received the notification that the trains were back online. \n\n\n\n\n\nI stepped into the sunshine, involuntarily raising my hand and squinting my eyes. In less than a moment, I felt the sinking feeling of unfamiliarity.\n\nMy pocket buzzed. \n\nMy hand went toward the vibration, pulling out a phone I didn’t know I had. The screen said, “No problem, honey. The kids and I love you and can’t wait until you’re back.” \n\nWrong number, I guess. \n\n", "“Back again so soon?” said the man with a wide smile, as the metal door clang shut behind me. I could see his upper gums as he smirked - I really couldn’t tell if he had a friendly or mocking expression. The man raised a hand to the front of his white smock that he wore, smoothing its crinkles in an absent-minded fashion. He peered at me, his eyes giving me a one-over as he looked over the shoulder of a shorter, dark-brown haired woman. His countenance sobered as he brought his attention back to the irate women standing before him. She gestured toward an open door frame behind him, barking,\n\n“Why can’t you just copy the memory into your stupid machine?”\n\nShe snapped her hand toward an opening at the rear of the shop. I wanted to see what she was pointing at, so I shuffled to the side of the room in order to gain a better view. Another smaller room lay beyond the first, brightly lit with a circular phosphorescent lamp hanging from a rusted steel ceiling. A white medical chair sat next to a large black box and monitor; a multi-jointed metal arm protruded from the box, and at the end of the arm, what appeared to be a drill.\n\nThe man sighed, leant forward onto the wooden counter, and picked up a pipe that had lain propped against the cash register. He reached into a tin and pulled out some tobacco, before filling the bowl of his pipe with the product, and then pressing down on the tobacco with a tamper. As he worked on the tobacco he responded,\n\n“Look, it doesn’t really work like that. Memories aren’t computer files, which can be copied from one brain to another. The only way we can transplant the memories is exactly how it sounds - through transplanting the neurons themselves to another person. We first cut open your skull,” he continued, with a sig-sawing motion of the hand,\n\n“and then send the nanobots in. The clever little devils locate the relevant neurons, as well as identify the configuration of the neural links that store the sought-after memory, and then they veerrry carefully extract the needed brain cells. You won’t feel a thing… and you won’t even remember what you lost! Not so bad, when the procedure comes with built-in therapy for the trauma” he added with a laugh.\n\nThe woman stared at the man, perhaps with disbelief, before silently running a hand across the wooden countertop, her fingers finding small grooves to play with on the burned, pockmarked surface. Moments passed before her shaking voice broke,\n\n“Look, p-please. I need the yuan… but I can’t give the memory you’re asking for. Isn’t there another one that you can take?” she cried, her fists clenched.\n\nThe man rolled his eyes before bringing the pipe to his lips and lighting a match. He puckered his face as he carefully lit the tobacco, and then took a few shallow breaths. Puffing carefully, he said,\n\n“No. You know how it is -- joyous memories that incorporate one’s loved ones are usually guarded jealously, and it’s rare to find someone who will part with them… for obvious reasons. Especially within the last twenty years,” he grunted.\n\n“It’s gotten so bad that grave robbers usually have to break into the old tombs, and pray that the brains were embalmed carefully, which wasn’t a particularly common practice, you see.”\n\nHe looked down nonchalantly at his smock as he spoke, and seeing some ash that had fallen onto it, he brusquely wiped it off. Looking back up, he then continued with a wink,\n\n“Capitalism at work you know! The rarer the commodity, the more valuable the good!”\n\nHe again broke into a raucous laughter, and the woman, clenching her teeth, whirled around, before spotting me for the first time. She paused before marching past, and hissed at me,\n\n“Fuck you, Hsin.”\n\nShe grabbed and yanked on the door handle before striding outside, the black metal door springing back into place with a bang.\n\n“Was she talking to me?” I meekly inquired at the man behind the counter.\n\nThe man narrowed his eyes at me momentarily before chuckling and going back to his pipe, ignoring the question.\n\n“I can only assume you’ve finally given in, Hsin!” he exclaimed, sounding pleased. “And about time, I say. You can’t make money off the past, you know.”\n\nAs he continued to speak, my attention wandered away from him, and I studied the rest of the shop, which was host to a number of curiosities -- a small wooden bi-plane hanging from strings; a spherical glass paper-weight wedged between two yellowed books on a set of tiered shelves; a sculpture of a goat impaled on several iron rebars, which was some bizarre abstract sculpture, I could only guess.\n\nI startled as I felt the man touch me on the arm. He stared at me. “Are you ready?”\n\nI suddenly felt a cold wave pass over me, and my throat constricted. I couldn’t explain why, but I felt fearful… from what, I didn’t know.\n\n“Will it hurt?” I asked.\n\n“Not a bit. And like I was telling your old flame, you won’t even remember.”\n\nI swallowed and rubbed my throat, which felt painful, and then nodded. The man took me by the arm gently, and I docilely followed as he led me to the far room.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\\---\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI slowly came to, and struggled to open my eyes, which proved difficult as a circular bright lamp was on above me, its light streaming down. Looking away, I blinked several times and finally managed to study the room around me. It didn’t look familiar. A man, who I also didn’t recognize, sat in a small school-chair next to me intently studying a screen. He didn’t seem to notice me as he continued to analyze the screen, before finally leaning back in his seat with a contented sigh.\n\n“Good,” he muttered. “Despite him using all the time, it looks like the memory is still intact.”\n\nUnsteadily rising to his feet from the small chair, a frown crossed the man’s face as he looked down at his white apron. As he took a few steps and turned around, he tried to wipe off some flecks of gray matter and a stain colored dark-carmine. The stain remained despite his effort, and he continued to mutter to himself discontentedly before he looked up and noticed me.\n\n“Ahh, Hsin, I see you’re awake. Well, it looks like the memory was successfully removed, and it’s still completely intact, fortunately, (no thanks to you haha), so I guess I owe you your money, don’t I!”\n\nHe opened a drawer from a black filing cabinet, and rummaging through several manilla envelopes, extracted a sheath of colored bank notes. He walked over to me while I remained seated, and, prying my fingers open with his free hand, he smacked the pile of notes into my palm.\n\n“And there you have it! Now, I assume you’ll be wanting a receipt - we’re not dishonest, here, you know - and probably some directions to Gao, your dealer, for just in case if you don’t remember how to get to him. Those memories should remain intact, but you never know, sometimes the nanobots make the odd mistake here and there, and I know Gao would be furious with me if he lost his most valuable neuropozyne customer. With this, you’ll always be happy my friend - all the neuropozyne dreams you’ll ever care for! And if for some reason you ever manage to obtain more real happy memories - however unlikely that is - don’t forget to come back to me.”\n\nHe waddled over to the door and out the room. I stared at the bank notes with a blank expression. The neuropozyne… yes, well, that was something that at least I remembered. I knew how to use it.\n\nThe sound of a cry broke me out of my reverie, and I looked for its source. It was coming from the monitor that the man was studying earlier. I stood up, walked over to the school-chair now vacant, and sat down, continuing to stare at the screen. The sound played back through some old speakers. A woman, drenched with sweat and red-faced, lay on a white-sheeted gurney. Tears poured down her face, but she was smiling.\n\n“Mei,” she called softly. A robot, holding a swaddle of cloth, rolled over to a man who I didn’t recognize. The robot gingerly handed to the man the wrapped bundle.\n\n“Mei,” the man repeated, and he stared down with wide eyes. “Mei,” the man repeated for a second time. “I love you, Mei. Mei, I love you. Mei... I promise you - I promise you that I will never let any harm ever come to you. I swear on my soul.”\n\nThe man gently rocked the bundle back and forth, looking up at the woman in the gurney briefly.\n\nHe too, for some odd reason, had tears streaming down his face, and he too, for some odd reason, smiled." ]	2
	[WP] You're a psychic. Since you were born, you know things without being told. You put that gift to the service of law, to immediately guess who committed a crime, when you suddenly one day feel something. Another psychic is acting. And not for the greater good	[ "I don’t know when i realised i had my gift. One day, i just knew my friend was lying to me without apparent reason. I didn’t say anything when i had this feeling, because it sounded crazy, but i investigated on my side. I knew he was lying to me about sleeping with my sister and the most awkward thing was that i couldn't just ask my sister. This was way too awkward. I managed to have the proof one day, when i arrived home earlier than usual and i caught him coming out of her room with only his boxer on.\n\nAfter that day, i had felt this feeling about many persons. My deductions always ended up being true. I don’t remember one time where i had this uneasiness when someone lied to me that didn’t turn out real. This became really handy to me for a few years. When i was still young and naive and though it was a good idea to use this gift for my own good.\n\nEverything changed when my father got killed in a hit and run. The law enforcement never managed to put a hand on the person who did it. Fault of proof, by their word. They had a suspect, but they were never able to confirm the crime had been committed by that person. I had seen him leave the police station. That day i knew. I knew it was him and i had to do something to help capture the pieces of shit that were getting away with crimes.\n\nI went back to school and made my way up to the New York Police Department. A few years ago, i got promoted to Lieutenant and was now handling a few cases. I really liked what i was doing. The job was fulfilling and with my ability, i had an easier time than others to solve cases. I knew right away when we were not on the right path to solve the case and was usually able to change the direction of our investigation.\n\nA few months ago, i started to get a weird feeling. I really didn’t know what this was about, but i knew something was wrong. It felt a bit like if someone was trying to hinder my work, but that didn’t actually happen. Since that feeling started, nothing really changed for me, the criminals i managed to cuff all ended up in prison. It was normal, because i knew that they were guilty. We always managed to find enough proof to lock them in.\n\nI had decided to shrug that feeling. I had other things to focus on, like the current case i had. We managed to find a murderer that killed two teenagers about a month ago. I knew it was only a matter of time until we had enough proof to lock him in. Thanks to my gift, we managed to find the culprits easely in out suspect list and now we were waiting until he cracked or that we found the appropriate evidences against him. \n\nI made my way in the station to reach the interrogation room, my partner on my heels. He was probably the only one who had doubts about the reason why i always managed to find so easily our culprits. I never actually told him, but after so many years of working with him, he started to understand the little sign that something could be odd about me. He never asked either, but i could see in his eyes that he had some ideas.\n\nI knocked at the door, announcing us, and i entered the room. The murderer was not alone anymore in the room, a man barely over 30 sitting next to him in a pristine suit. The man in question had well groomed brown hairs His eyes were a piercing blue and he had a smirk on his face, as if he was mocking us already. \n\nAs soon as i lay my eyes on the man, the strange feeling i had since a few months ago came back at full speed. I frowned. I didn’t know exactly what was happening right now, but that couldn’t be good. I tried to school my expression as best as i could and i made my way to the table to sit in front of them, my partner getting the chair next to me.\n\n“Good day, gentlemen. I don’t believe we met yet,” I said addressing the man in the suit. “I’m Lieutenant Mariah Carey and this is my partner Lieutenant Trevor Stone.”\n“I am Jayden Cole. I am Mr. Holden’s Lawyer. I’ll be representing his best interests and would like to request he his release. My client is innocent and would like to return to his occupations.”\n\nI stared at him for a few minutes, trying my best to not show my disbelief to them. Normally, when i felt a client was lying, i could feel their lawyers lie as well. This time, i was not feeling anything. The only feeling i had right now was that Jayden Cole was telling me the truth and firmly believed his client was innocent despite this one smelling lies from miles away.\n\nI didn’t realise that i locked myself in a staring duel. He was looking at me the same way i was looking at him. I could read in his eyes the same feeling i had when i was looking at someone who was lying to me. I understood at that point that i might not have been as unique as i thought. Clearly, he could feel something about this whole situation just as i was doing, but we seems to have contradicting information. \n\nI smiled slightly at him. This whole situation was about to be a big mess if he truly believed his client to be innocent. Either his “gut-feelings” like i liked to call them were sending him the wrong signals or he was a really good actor to use those powers for himself.\n" ]	1
	[WP] After the spaceships left a group of volunteers from each nation stayed to clean up their planet. Vowing to rid it of all the toxic waste they had created and make it safe for the people to return. They didn’t account for the shift in the food chain this massive population shift would cause.	[ "Larry clocked in, and put on the haz mat suit, grabbing a shovel and a bucket on his way out. \n\nThe cat vomit problem was getting worse, since the chickens got loose -- the lions ate their fill. Or rather, over-fill. \n\nSo that left Larry cleaning the lion vomit from Grand Avenue. \n\n\"Dude, any progress?\" Larry asked Anthony.\n\n\"Nah, they don't even want beef.\" Anthony took off his shoe covers, and de-masked. \n\nAnthony tried to tame the lions -- he found some lion tamer instructional books in the paper archives. But they had absolutely no interest. There was nothing they could be rewarded with. \n\nSo that left the legacy lions. They would saunter around, their flabby stomachs wagging back and forth, easily catch 20, or 60, chickens, and then nap. They'd breed, and the next generation was so well nourished in utero, that they were even bigger. Hence, the gallons of cat vomit on Grand Avenue. \n\nThey weren't ferocious. They weren't even real predators anymore. They were just big, flabby, vomiting kitties who slept all day.\n\nPlus the poop. Tons. Metric tons. At least the trucks came by and used this to fertilize the corn. Which was used to feed the chickens. Who got loose and were eaten by the lions. \n\nSo, Margaret put in a work order for some fencing, around the human-controlled areas, but the home office lost the paperwork. So that's another thousand or so years. \n\n\"Yeah, that's my life now, cleaning cat vomit,\" muttered Larry, as he shoveled up the slop into a bucket.", "It had been only a few months since the ships had left. Most of the clean up crew still thought it unnerving to walk the empty streets and towns. We had heard reports that the cleanup effort was going well in other parts of the world, but the problems here just seemed so insurmountable. How were 500 people expected to clean up an entire country (let alone one as big as Brasil) that had spent hundreds of years being environmentally thrashed by its inhabitants? At first it was just a lot of surveying the biggest problems and prioritizing them. The seafront, other bodies of water, national forests. Our mission was to preserve and cleanup areas essential for life and the ones that weren't yet completely hopeless.\n\nThese days my team and I aren't even so concerned as to how we can clean things up. We just wish that we could actually put more time and effort into our actual mission. We've been a little more worried about the dog situation. Yeah. The dog situation. Most people weren't allowed to bring their furry friends on the ships with them and seeing as we already had a dog problem here before the evac... well needless to say its gotten bad. They're everywhere. They've literally taken over. The worst is that the hardest hit areas, the ones with the most waste, are the most heavily infested. Sometimes I feel bad for them. They come in all shapes and sizes, but most spend their days digging through trash trying to find something that they can eat. The poor wretches usually have bloated stomachs, bloody sores from ticks or other pests, and noses and ears that have been ripped apart by other bigger or more aggressive dogs. The worst part is that we've reached the point where they really do see us as a potential source of food. Man's best friend... yeah right. They travel in big packs, always fighting over scraps or other animals that they can hunt... I've even seen them eat each other. They get in the way of most of our operations. The packs roam around attacking anything that moves. We've been forced to work only from about 11 AM to 4 PM. That's when the sun is highest in the sky and they tend to lie around. We haven't been nearly as bothered by themduring those hours. That's what has made this project a living hell though. We are only really able to get things done during the time of day that we would normally be least productive. That's the time of day that we would normally reserve to eat lunch and get some rest because of the blazing sun. Now it's the only time we can really work. The worst part is that we aren't even equipped for this sort of threat. Why leave weapons with the cleanup crews? It's not like we were expecting a fight. The few weapons that we have been able to find haven't done us much good yet. The dogs are desperate and have us completely outnumbered.......\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThat's as far as I can go right now!" ]	2
	[WP] "French fries don't really come from France." "Yeah, they're from Belgium, right?" "No, not that either." "Huh?" "You see, the truth is..." and so begins a thrilling tale that you're not sure actually has anything to do with French fries.	[ "He sits you down, smiling ear to ear, gingerly plucking a fry from your hand. Visibly savoring the crisp, salted crunch of the first bite, he regales you with the truth behind the taste.\n\n \n\"In the beginning of time,\" he speaks, \"there was nothing. Not one bit of broccoli, not one crunchy carrot, not even a single stalk of celery.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nYou stare apprehensively, nearly pulling back as he reaches for another fry. He smiles, knowingly.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"There was, however, the potato.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe helps himself to your fries, taking the small box from your hands as he continued his story. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"As the oceans boiled, as the earth trembled and the mountains took shape, the simply potato remained the only constant.\" \n\n&#x200B;\n\nHis face awash in a wave of nostalgia, nearly as intense as his snacking, you find yourself enthralled in his tale, despite its absurdity.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"The first thing man saw as he crawled from the muck of creation, was of course, the potato.\" He narrowed his eyes, \"The potato - it judged him. It looked down at him appraisingly, for it was wise; a single potato is enough to judge the merit of a thousand men.\" He shifted in his chair, turning towards you as he leans forward; \"The potato deemed man worthy of its nourishing embrace, and for generations, all men would feast like kings upon its luscious being.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAs he went to take another bite, his features suddenly darkened; his brow knit curiously as his mouth pulled itself into a tight frown. Only when it passed with a sigh did you realize you were holding your breath.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Times change...\" he murmured, \"As do man's tastes. The potato had been good to them, but man's constant hunger had led to the discovery of... Fruits.\" He may as well have spat the word as his knuckles audibly cracked; \"With the discovery of such treacherous things as bananas, apples, grapes, olives and pears, the potato was forgotten; man was seduced by the sweet taste of the soft, weaker things of the earth, and helped himself.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nYour companion sighs, setting the box aside as he scowls at his fists. But suddenly, you see a crack in his features: a telltale grin, slowly spreading across his face.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Ah, but the potato would not be outdone so easily.\" He gives you a sly smile. \"Do you remember the boiling oceans?\" He chuckles at your expression before he continues: \"The potato wanted to be the very best, like no one ever was, but catching them, ah! - that was the real test. Mankind had grown as round as those rotten fruits they had consumed, but soon - a new smell wafted past their nostrils as they went in search of food.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe man noisily made short work of your last few fries, handing you the box before continuing.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Lying upon the sea shore, shining for all to see, was of course, the potato. Fried,\" he says, pursing his lips and closing his eyes for emphasis, \"to perfection. No fruit could stand before the gold, glittering might of the potato's final form: the french fry!\" He roared with laughter, clapping a hand on your shoulder; \"Naturally, the first of the fries were much, much larger.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe sat back, grinning warmly as he folded his arms.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"But,\" you stammer, awkwardly, \"where did that all occur, exactly?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe smiles at you as he gets up to leave - \"Not France.\" \n" ]	1
	[WP] First contact with aliens is established, and what was expected to be the end of monotheistic religions takes an unexpected turn when it is discovered, in the religious monotheistic texts of the Aliens "He created the people, not to His image as He had on Earth..."	[ " \n\nRelatively not too long ago and relatively not too far, far away, was Nede. In the beginning was everything, and it was good. On Nede, there was no word for “need.” Why would a word need to exist to describe the indescribable? All members of each society on the planet had everything they could ever want. There was no war, no famine, no hunger. There were no wants, no needs. \n\nReficul, the creator and sustainer of Nede, had made inhabitants of the planet perfect. Each of them, since the moment they were formed from the dirt, were made with no flaws, no imperfections… no suffering. Reficul was a being of empathy. Witnessing the anguish of anything from the dirt of the Nede was too much, so he had no choice but to make them perfect. To achieve that end, Reficul had endowed each creation that he formed from the dirt with the knowledge of all things. With knowledge, there is not ignorance, there is not fear, there is not hate… there is not suffering. They each knew they were made for the company of Reficul, and with that knowledge there was a peace and understanding. \n\nHewhay, Reficul’s First, had been his only mistake. He was made imperfect, and flawed Reficul had made Hewhay first from the dirt of the Nede and had been made without the knowledge of all things. This lack of understanding had led to great suffering for the First of the Nede. Reficul kept Hewhay by his side for the pain of the First had required great need. Hewhay did not know why he existed. After a millennia of needing to pour himself into the First, Reficul realized he had no choice but to rid himself of his burden and cast Hewhay from Nede, and he fell. After seeing the suffering of The First, Reficul knew that any being he made of the dirt had to have the knowledge of all things. \n\nUpon landing on new dirt, Hewhay grew lonely. Without Reficul, The First was like a babe crying for its mother’s milk. He had needs that were not satisfied. His loneliness became too great. To end his suffering, Hewhay made beings in the new dirt. These new beings were as flawed and imperfect as Yewhay, for they were made in his image. Reficul knew that these beings were suffering for their imperfections and their needs and their lack of the knowledge of all things, so he contacted the beings of the new dirt. The message to the beings of the new dirt was thwarted by Hewhay and twisted, so they began to fear the creator and sustainer of Nede, the one that yearned to provide them with relief from suffering.\n\nThe truth, you see, is naught but a backwards lie. The beings of the new dirt, being deceived by Hewhay, know him by a different name: Yahweh.", "The world was ground to a perfect halt. The aliens began to integrate into society, they treated us like lords among them. Where we walked, they would bathe in their ritual salts, and call a holy land of the god's chosen. We were powerful to them. But I was left dumbstruck by the species, and the implications that came with their texts.\n\nWe weren't living in the same era anymore. This overly advanced species had given up everything they owned to us. Cancer had been cured, and we were falling towards an age of impossibilities. 'Why now?' had been my first question, and when this journal is revealed to the world, I will know the answer, because something is terribly wrong with the arrival of this species, and it starts with one thing, none of them have mentioned the name 'God', and the only thing they have in their texts is an all powerful 'He'. This isn't a god, this is a different entity all together. if the readings I have found are correct, this 'He', is headed straight towards us.\n\nA short one, but it's based off of something else, and I'm not good at cosmic horror." ]	2
	[wP] “As I’m writing this, I am in the bathroom, typing with shaking hands. He’s outside banging on the door. Please. Help. “	[ "Oh Jesus, Oh Jesus, Oh Jesus. I don’t know what to do. I’m sitting in the bathroom typing this out and hoping that someone will see it. I can’t call for help, my phone is busted. I can’t escape because I’m on the 7th floor and in the bathroom. Please someone help me. I don’t know how long the door will hold together, but I put some stuff in front to help hold it shut.\n\nI came home from school today and my mom and dad were already home. That’s pretty unusual, they work late and don’t get home until around 6 normally. I came in and heard them talking quietly in their room, they didn’t hear me come in I guess. I went straight to my room and dropped off my stuff. I was about to let them know I was home when I heard my dad say something strange. “I know what they do to them, it’s horrible but the leader wants it. Plus, we’ll get 25 grand for her and that would really help.”\n\nI didn’t know what he was talking about. Who was leader? And what were they selling for 25K? I heard my mom reply but didn’t catch all of it. “… our daughter, but we can have another one later. Plus, she’s not going to join and I’m tired of her attitude. I hate teenagers, so disrespectful.” There was spite in her voice, she was talking about me. I started to panic right there. They were planning on selling me to someone? But why? I didn’t understand. I still don’t.\n\nI ran to get my backpack but I guess they heard me. My dad shouted “Kaley? That you sweetheart?” “Shit, I think she heard. I didn’t think she would be home so soon. Go grab her David!” my mom said. I grabbed my backpack and headed for the door but my dad was already in the way. “Don’t try to run. They want you in pristine condition but any will do as long as you’re alive. Don’t make me hurt you.” He growled. My dad, the one who raised me and loved me all these years, was gone. I could barely recognize him. There was so much hate in his eyes and his normally kind voice was gruff with rage. I turned and my mother was standing right behind me holding a rolling pin. She swung it at my head trying to knock me out but I managed to duck under it. I pushed her out of the way and she fell, I stopped for a brief second to check on her but ran when I heard my dad behind me.\n\nI made it to the bathroom and locked the door. I shoved the medicine cabinet and everything else I could manage in front of it to keep them out. When I checked my bag I was shaking so bad I could barely unzip it. When I finally got to my phone to call 911 I dropped it, the screen shattered and I let out a yelp. “Listen here you little shit,” I heard my dad from the other side of the door “we know you heard everything, I don’t give a damn. Come out of that bathroom right now or, so help me god, I’ll beat you within an inch of your life.” His threat was punctuated by him pounding on the door.\n\nI didn’t answer, I was too scared. I have just been sitting here trying to think of what to do but haven’t been able to think of anything. “We’re getting in there one way or another, and if we have to come in there you’re going to regret it.” My mom said. “The longer you take, the worse your punishment will be young lady. We were just going to sell you, but we could have you be the sacrificial lamb this year. It’s your choice.” My dad said. “Sacrificial lamb? What the hell are you talking about?” I yelled.\n\n“We worship something old. Older than most people think can be possible. It’s real, we’ve seen it. Every year it calls for sacrifice, and we provide it. It’s not quick, easy or clean. It eats the sacrifice, slowly and painfully. We also put people in its service, slaves to its will. That’s what we were going to do to you, just have you do its bidding. But if you want to be this way about it we can make sure it takes you instead.” My dad was laughing as he told me this. I felt sick, I almost vomited right then. They want to sacrifice me? What did I do wrong? I thought I was a good kid?\n\nSince then they have been mostly quiet. I know they’re there, but they stopped trying to get in for a bit. I heard them on the phone but couldn’t make out what they were saying. I don’t know what to do, I just hope this finds someone in time. I’m pretty sure I’m not getting out of here alive, but this is what’s happened. Make sure the police or FBI or someone sees this. When I go missing, it was my parents. I can hear someone else in the apartment now, I don’t think it’ll be long. Please, send someone fast or I’m going to be dead.\n\nThank you for reading!\n\nSee more of my stuff at [R/WorksofIndridFrost1](https://www.reddit.com/r/WorksofIndridFrost1/)" ]	1
	[WP] You black out at a party and wake up with no recollection of what happened last night. You check your phone, and see thousands of notifications from people you’ve never heard of.	[ "Pounding head. Foggy vision. A sky that’s moving too fast and ground that’s so cold it’s giving me goosebumps. When I sit up, my stomach flips upside down, forcing me to dump my guts into the grass. Every part of my body aches. Literally everything. Even my toes.\n\nMy phone’s buzzing like the flies around me. I reek of booze and…tacos? Maybe. I don’t know. Climbing to my feet, I lean against the wall, staring at my house—which is a mess. Broken windows, spraypainted walls, ripped up bushes, clothes everywhere. What happened last night? My memory’s blank.\n\nMy phone buzzes again. This time I check it, eyes shooting open. One thousand notifications? I shake my head, take a deep breath. Must’ve gotten a virus—great. What a shit-show of a night. Shit-show of a party. I knew I shouldn’t have hosted it. Taking a seat on my stoop, I scroll through the messages, which are from random people.\n\nGreat party, bro! Never thought I’d eat so many tacos!\n\nYooooo, you’re dope! Thanks for the food. You don’t look rich, though. How’d you afford all those tacos?\n\nTacos…?\n\nShaking my head, I quickly stand—now I’m clutching it. Head-rush, splitting pain worse than brain freeze. My body’s screaming puke but my brain’s screaming not on the welcome mat, asshole! Once that passes and I feel conscious again, I shove my door open, immediately bumping into Dave, a friend of mine.\n\nHe’s drunk. He puts his hands on my shoulders, eyes wide. “Dude,” he says. “Duuuuuude.”\n\n“Dude,” I reply.\n\n“That was sooooooo siiiiiiick. Best party ever.”\n\n“Yeah. So I’ve heard. What happened?”\n\n“Duuuuuude you ordered like, a million tacos, duuuuude!”\n\nI laugh. “You’re joking, right?”\n\nHe shakes his head, moving to the side. Peering in my house, I see he wasn’t joking—there are thousands of tacos stacked all the way to the ceiling, and random people sitting around devouring them.\n\n“Oh, no.”\n\n“Yeaaaaah bro! You invited the whole city, duuuude! Your a legend!”\n\nI yank my phone back out. I'm still getting notifications. Thanks for the food! and you should throw another one next year! Taco Festival! I check my bank and it's...bad. Terrible. Tens of thousands of dollars of debt. This can’t be…can’t be real, right? I look up at Dave, awkwardly chuckling. “Ha. Yeah. Funny. This is a prank or something, right, Dave?”\n\n\"You’re awesome when you drink, dude,” he says, putting a small paper crown on my head. “Taco king, taco king, taco king!”\n\n***\n\nIf you like this story, check out my sub r/longhandwriter or my [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BryceBealWriter)" ]	1
	[WP] You live in a city that spans time. Today, you have to investigate a mystery in the Victorian Area.	[ " \n\n“Shit,” I thought as I looked at the text on my phone. I just caught a body in Old London Town, that’s the Victorian side of town. I hated the place, it was a hell of a drive and the whole place stunk like piss and poverty. However, that’s the nature of the job, no matter how shitty an era, if someone drops a body, I’m expected to go pick it up.\n\nI slid my phone back into the pocket of my jeans, grabbed my weapon out of the drawer, slid it into the holster tucked in my waistband and threw on my jacket as I walked out the door. I could head to one of the Future Precincts to use a teleporter, but, honestly, the drive gives me time to clear my mind and gain perspective on a case. I had a feeling this one was going to require some Grade A clarity.\n\nAs I arrived on the scene in the White Chapel district, I could see Perkins, dressed in a frock coat and bowler standing over the body scowling at me. As I stepped out of my vehicle, he left the scene and approached me with a visible air of disdain.\n\n“Jesus, Schemansky, can’t you at least TRY to blend in?”\n\n“I’m sorry, Frank, my deerstalker cap and duster were in the dry cleaner at the corner of Who Gives a Shit and I Don’t Give a Fuck Avenue. Oh, and I’d be careful throwing that name around, Jerusalem A.D. ain’t that far away. So, anyway, what do we got?”\n\nPerkins’ chuckle died away as he remembered why we were here. He looked back at the vic who was covered in a tarp. He returned his gaze to me and his face was suddenly grim in a way that I knew meant the rest of my week was likely ruined.\n\n“Look, Steve, this one’s bad. The victim is a white female, early 20’s most likely a street walker.”\n\n“Well, that sounds easy, she was probably skimming off the top and her pimp came and roughed her up and it went too far. This should be open and shut.”\n\nPerkins didn’t seem to buy my theory. I could tell that he knew something that I didn’t. He led me further down the alley toward the body. “This one is different. If she was just beaten to death in the street, or stabbed, I’d say let’s go talk to her boss. This was no pimp looking to get money.”\n\nOnce I reached the body, I drew back the sheet of tarpaulin and suddenly realized why it had been there in the first place. I grew up in the 1970’s Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood, I’ve seen some fucked up shit. Nothing I’ve seen before prepared me for this.\n\nThe victim’s throat had been slashed. It appears that this was the cause of death which was probably a great mercy considering the rest of the scene. She had been completely gutted. Her insides were spilling to the outside. I looked carefully because something seemed wrong, like there was something missing. \n\n“Did the killer-” I began, not quite sure how to finish the question.\n\n“The victim appears to be missing several organs. We will have to wait for the the ME to determine exactly what’s gone. We’re not taking her to a local, we need to know exactly what we’re dealing with here and their science is really only a step away from voodoo.”\n\nI really began examining the wounds. With the sight and the surrounding smells, it was all I could do to fight my gag reflex. Glad I did though, the ME really hates it when you “contaminate the crime scene.”\n\n“Frank, I agree, this shit wasn’t some pimp. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think some of them are above savagery, but this wasn’t exactly savage. The cuts are clean and precise. My instincts tell me that this is somebody with medical experience, or maybe a butcher. All I know for sure is that our unsub is one sick son of a bitch.”\n\nI stood up and started to look around the rest of the scene while Perkins covered the body back up. The area had been cordoned off by some local bobbies, but other than that I was assured that it hadn’t been touched. There was garbage piled in the gutter, I saw stray cats wandering through the alley, there was graffiti spray painted on the walls.\n\nThat’s when I saw it. Scratched into the brick above the body, barely visible due to the paintings on the wall around it was a picture of what appeared to be a beetle. Looking closer, I could see the letters “JR” carved in the middle. This was obviously done with the murder weapon as I saw traces of blood in the etchings.\n\n“Dammit!”\n\n“What?” Perkins asked me as he approached. He looked at what I saw on the wall.\n\n“Why are you worried about a picture of some bug on the wall? It was probably kids, tourists, you know.”\n\n“That’s not any bug. That’s a scarab. It looks like we’re headed to Pharaoh’s Landing.”", "It was never quite easy to spot where the changes happened. The city sort of blended together in an almost natural way. One moment, you'd be walking through clay hut rows with roughshod dirt packed roads. The next, a block of sweeping towers that reached all the way up into the clouds above. There were no lines or boundaries. Everyone was free to wander and live where they please. Tribal men and women in traditional garb waiting in fancy coffee shops with hipsters in flannel and future body suited androids. But just like any other city, there was it's fair share of crime.\n\nVictorian Row was one of the more popular parts of the city. I never quite understood why. Maybe it was all of the fancy clothes or the unique building aesthetics. Whatever the reason, I was here today to investigate a break-in. George's Fine Antiquities, a little hole in the wall shop down one of the narrow side streets. The glass front door had been shattered, several shelves had been knocked over, vases and other delicate items smashed on the floor. But when I interviewed George, he claimed that nothing had been stolen. The register and safe behind the counter were untouched and from the looks of things they had broken everything that could be broken easily. It would take some time to confirm, he said, but he knew what he had in stock and could identify the pieces. Everything looked to be accounted for.\n\nSo, who breaks into a Victorian antique shop and doesn't steal a thing? My gut was telling me this was going to get complicated fast." ]	2
	[WP] Lets do something different today. No superpowers, no supernatural creatures, no twists. Just a normal, totally average person going through a normal day, where nothing out of the ordinary happens.	[ "\"Let's say we have Joel. A man named Joel.\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\n\"Joel here is a normal guy. Normal IQ, normal personality, normal job. Absolutely everything well within our parameters for acceptable human living.\"\n\n\"Origin?\"\n\n\"United States. Come on. Pennsylvania. Just outside Philadelphia. Joel makes 50,000 a year, has a sweet and caring girlfriend who wants better for him, and a good dog who only causes trouble once its owners have just forgotten that it's capable of doing so.\"\n\n\"The dog. How old?\"\n\n\"3 years old. Old enough to feel like he, yes he, has always been a part of the family, and young enough to feel like he'll be a part of it forever.\"\n\n\"Name?\"\n\n\"Sparky. Normal dog name, slightly eccentric, fun to say when they call him over. He's trained in every way that counts but of course Joel and Candice, the girlfriend, always talk about teaching him new tricks. Will they? Who knows. We have an idea whether or not that will actually happen, but they might surprise us.\"\n\n\"Okay. What does Joel do?\"\n\n\"Joel went to college to obtain a degree in chemical engineering, but dropped out of the program to become an accountant instead. He works in-house for a medium sized company where there is just enough upward mobility to keep him there, but not enough to ever give him the correct ratio between independence and salary. Candice, since I know you will ask, works as a dietary aide in a hospital, hoping to one day be a successful dietitian in her own right. Joel is 29, Candice is 26.\"\n\n\"Well then, I'd say you would first have to-\"\n\n\"Wait a moment, i'm not done. We can't forget about the venn-diagram that is their family and social circles. Joel brings a few more close friends into their grand total but significantly less family. He grew up in a single-parent household, but not to his detriment. He, his mother and his brother had a completely normal life together. Candice is one of six children and is extremely close to all of her siblings and her parents. Both families love both lovers.\"\n\n\"Okay. I think I get the idea. First, you'd-\"\n\n\"No. I don't think you do. Joel and Candice moved in together a year ago. They've had arguments that tested them but they have ultimately grown stronger. They each still have the instincts that come with living alone, but are gradually adapting and evolving into a healthy cohabitative environment. Joel plans to propose in a few months and is terrified. Terrified not of a future with Candice but of a future he can truly envision. Joel has never had this before. He's grown comfortable with not knowing where he will be. The plan terrifies him, but not as much as losing her does. Plus, it's just that time in his life, isn't it? It's a solid move. Candice, his future bride, always knew what her future would hold. She had no illusions. She never really thought about 'where she'd be,' but rather how she'd be. She saw a nice man, like Joel, and a nice family, and a life with little dramas to occupy the space between relaxation and love. She knows a proposal is coming. She is happy in the original sense, meaning she is floating. She does not experience joy every moment of each day, but rather a sense of passive contentment gliding through the weeks, months and years of her life with Joel. She knows this is what it feels like, even when she is screaming at him to just accept the fucking coat her older brother wants to give him since Joel doesn't have a really warm coat for this winter and they're the same size.\n\nAre you getting this yet? Are you understanding? Are you fathoming that Joel sometimes thinks of finding out who his father is but it's never truly haunted him in any meaningful way? Or that his idea of being open with Candice is being as laid back and goofy as he is with his friends? And that she understands this but obviously she means emotionally open and wants him to be able to talk about the issues he's facing within himself, not fully realizing that his relationship to his sadness is estranged at best, and will probably never be fleshed out no matter how hard she tries or how badly she just wants to see if he will ever cry?\n\nJoel is a normal guy. Normal IQ, normal personality. He makes people laugh but isn't as desperate for the validation as he used to be. He can watch others have a good time without needing to be the reason. He trusts Candice with all his heart but still gets a little more needy when he's had a few drinks.\n\nJoel is in the throws of the flattest and longest stretch of his life that he will somehow make the mistake of describing as 'boring' when he is 53 and crying for the third time in 23 years of marriage in front of Candice, worrying he's wasted his youth. He won't cry again until he looks up from the floor 20 years later to see Candice dialing 9-1-1 after he's collapsed. He's failed her. His chest feeling like shattered glass and yet he thinks of her. Her loneliness, her isolation, her mourning. The tears he sheds are for his wife, not himself. The loss of himself he has seen coming for a long time now.\n\nThe day after day of Joel. The completely normal and average day after day of Joel. A legacy like billions of others. I can tell by your face you see it now. You're finally getting it.\"\n\n\"I think I am.\"\n\n\"Good. So here we have it then. We have Joel.\"\n\n\"We...\"\n\n\"It's okay. It feels good to say it.\"\n\n\"We have... Joel. Normal guy. Normal personality, normal IQ.\"\n\n\"Exactly. And now we can go.\"", "Stan wakes up on the left hand side of the bed. Like he does every day. It is 6AM.\n\nHe slips his legs out from under the cover and slides his feet right into his slippers. They are always in the same place, every night and morning.\n\nHe stands and walks to the bathroom, where he relieves himself or the urine that has built up overnight. As he does every day. This takes 1 minute.\n\nHe turns on the shower, placing the knob where it always goes for the perfect temperature. He undresses and grabs the fresh towel from the sink. He placed it there last night, as he does every night.\n\nStan goes through his shower routine. Washing his hair and face at once. Then lathering with body wash and the loofa. This process takes 5 minutes. He proceeds to stand under the hot water for the next 10, soaking in the heat and mentally preparing himself for the day ahead. \n\nHe turns off the shower and dries off. Wrapping the towel around his waist as he steps out, back into the slippers. Grabbing his blue toothbrush and putting his mint toothpaste on it, begins to brush his teeth. \n\nHe turns on the sink and spits. Running the water over the head of the brush and rinsing out his mouth. \n\nPicking up his comb, he runs it through his hair a few times. It falls into place from years of training. He applies the deodorant to his armpits, the same brand he has used for years. This has taken 4 minutes.\n\nHe walks to his closet and picks out one of the many suits that line the rod. It doesnt matter which one, they are all the same. He walks over to the dresser, pulling out a pair of socks and underwear.\n\nStan slides out of the slippers and gets dressed. Rolling the socks over his feet and sliding them into his shoes. He walks to the dresser, grabbing his keys and wallet. This takes 7 minutes.\n\nHe opens the door to his house and walks down the steps, gets into his beige sedan. Turning the key in the ignition, the car starts and the radio hums. Classical music plays through the speakers. \n\nPulling into the street, Stan drives towards the city. Stopping at stop-signs and lights. Yielding where he is supposed to. It takes one hour to drive to work.\n\nStan drives his car through the parking lot and turns into his designated spot. This takes 3 minutes.\n\nHe turns off the car and gets out. Walking into work, he smiles and nods at the receptionist. Says hello to everyone he should as he makes his way to his cubicle. This takes 15 minutes.\n\nHe sits down at his desk and works until lunch. This goes on for 4 hours, lunch takes 1 hour. He then comes back to his desk and works until the end of the day. This is another 4 hours.\n\nStan shuts off his computer and says goodbye to everyone still in the office. Waves to the receptionist and walks out the door to his car. \n\nBack in his car, Stan rubs his face. Feeling the stubble that has formed over the day. Turning the key in the ignition and starting the car. The radio plays jazz now. This takes 17 minutes.\n\nHe pulls out of his spot and drives through the parking lot. Begins driving home. Stopping at stop-signs and lights, yielding where he is supposed to. It takes 1 hour 15 minutes to drive home. \n\nHe pulls up in front of his house and turns the car off. Opening the door and walking over to the mailbox, he finds this months bills. Sighing, Stan walks to his front door and opens it. This takes 3 minutes.\n\nHe gathers his laundry and begins a load. Then goes to the kitchen to make dinner. Upon completion he opens a bottle of wine and pours a glass, then sits down to eat. This takes 1 hour. \n\nStan switches the laundry from the washer to the dryer. Then goes to the living room and turns on the TV. Sitting on the couch he, he selects the program he waits every week for. At the end of the show he hears the buzzer go off on the dryer. This has taken 1 hour.\n\nHe gathers the laundry and begins folding it, once done Stan places them in their appropriate spots. This takes 15 minutes. \n\nHe undresses and hangs the suit on the opposite side of the closet, reminding himself to make it to the dry cleaner this weekend. He slides the socks off of his feet and throws them in the hamper. Then he slides his feet into his slippers. This takes 6 minutes.\n\nHe goes to the bathroom and places the towel on the sink, then grabs his blue toothbrush and mint toothpaste. Stan brushes his teeth. Turning on the sink, he spits and rinses. This takes 3 minutes.\n\nStan sits down on the left side of the bed and slides his feet out of his slippers. Raising his legs and placing them under the covers, he lays down. Stan turns off the light and closes his eyes. \n\nStan falls asleep. It is 11PM.\n____\n\nMy math may be way off, not really sure.", "The alarm rang. John Smith continued to lay in his full-sized bed, ignoring the trill. The alarm refused to abate. John extended a searching hand from beneath his white polyester comforter, probing for the source. With a thwack, his pinky barely managed to find the snooze button, and he silenced his alarm for another 10 minutes. \n\n---\n\nJohn stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, water spilling from his feet onto the floor tiles. Click. His electric toothbrush buzzed as he gave his teeth a cursory once-over. Click. \n\n---\n\nJohn hastily scrapped some butter onto his mildly-burnt toast. He thrust his head into the fridge, scanning for the strawberry jam. He found the container, and, unscrewing the lid, discerned that it was nearly empty. Damn. \n\n---\n\nThe Buick two cars in front of him rolled forward some 10-odd feet. The Prius directly in front of him appeared to not notice, and remained stationary. John leant on his horn, annoyed. The driver’s side window of the Prius rolled down and a middle-finger shot out. The Prius deliberately waited another 5 seconds before rolling forward some 10-odd feet, now stopped behind the Buick. \n\n---\n“Morning John.”\n\n“Hey Sally. Sorry I’m ten minutes late. Traffic over the bridge was slow today.”\n\n“It’s fine. How are you?”\n\n“Great. It’s expected to rain today.”\n\n“Yeahhh luckily I brought my umbrella.”\n\n---\n\nJohn was hunched over his desk, staring intently at his computer screen. He continued to stare. And stare. And stare. \n\nJohn punched a few keys on his keyboard. He absent-mindedly stretched a hand for his mug of coffee, sitting on a coaster. His fingers only half-grasped the mug, and he knocked it over. \n\n“Goddamnit.” \n\nMurky cheap dark liquid spilled over a loose stack of papers. \n\nA head appeared over the wall of his cubicle. \n\n“Hey John. What’s happening? We need to talk about your TPS reports.”\n\n---\n\nJohn ate lunch at his desk to catch up on his powerpoint presentation for tomorrow. He hunched over his desk and stared at his computer monitor, while munching on a celery stick. Double-clicks.\n\n---\n\n\nJohn gave a sigh of relief as he exited through his building’s rotating glass doors, his briefcase swinging in his right hand. He swung up his left wrist and glanced at his digital watch. 6:17 P.M. Later than he’d like but if he hurried home he could still catch tonight’s episode of The Voice. \n\n---\n\nJohn whisked along the freeway at a comfortable speed of 65mph, his fingertips spread lightly on the steering wheel at the 10 and 2 o’clock positions. His index finger tapped against the rubber impatiently. He looked up through the windshield, noting that it was a half-moon tonight.\n\nA red F-350, making a lane change without signaling, clipped the rear right bumper of John’s car. John’s car spun out of control, the tires screaming against the pavement as he stood on the brakes. With a violent clap, the front of his car collided with an ugly beige highway noise barrier, the nose of the vehicle crumpling. John’s head snapped forward and slammed against the dashboard, instantly cracking his skull. His eyes went vacant. \n\nJohn joined the other 3,286 individuals who died in a car accident that day in the country. Just another day in paradise. \n" ]	3
Or any other amount you want.	[WP] Last night when you went to sleep, you fell into a lucid dream. When you "woke up", you only fell inti a stranger/weirder dream. This has happened 364 times.	[ "The first time was fun, the first ten even, strange new worlds to explore I wasn't scared, it was just a dream after all, giants didn't scare me dragons just made me wish I had a piece of paper to draw on.\n\nHow foolish I was, we all have to sleep though, this isn't the worst someone could get it's empty knowing you'll never be noticed but some of these worlds have been great for the day I spend in them.\n\nNow I wonder if I should of been scared I'm really not even now, just kinda sad, if this is a coma then I guess it makes me feel better Levi probably is pretty happy if this is real paranormal somehow then well.. I guess I'm stuck here, not the worst place to be, but not the best not even close.\n" ]	1
	[WP] An alien invasion looms over America. To save our nation, a wizard uses ancient magic to summon the Ethereal Guardian of the USA. Johnny Cash is back; the man has come around, and he Won't. Back. Down.	[ "In a flash of lightning the man stands. Tall and trim. His black suit has a slight shine to it. His eyes are hidden behind black sunglasses. \n\nThe man has indeed come around. \n\nHe lights a cigarette and hefts his six string onto his back. He surveys the scene. \n\nHe looks into the sky and sees the alien craft. Its massive size has left people awed and speechless. But those were lesser men. \n\nThey weren't Man in Black.\n\nHe looks around and sees the wizard. The wizard doesn't resemble Gandalf or Merlin like Johnny would've thought. This wizard looks to be in his 30s. He's got a slight Elvis look to him. The man saunters over. \n\n\"You called.\" His words lengthen by his drawl. He takes a pull on his cigarette.\n\n\"Yes. We need your help.\"\n\n\"Who's we?\"\n\n\"You're the man in black. You know who you're helping. The downtrodden, the scared, the people. The government is doing fuck all. \"\n\n\"What else is new?\" The man says with a grin. He takes a last long drag of his cigarette. \"Alright.\"\n\nHe walks to the edge of the building the wizard has summoned him to. He takes guitar off his back.\n\n\"Hello. I'm Johnny Cash.\" His voice booms. Everyone in the country can hear it\n\nThe alien ship stops spinning. It seems almost to turn slowly to look at Johnny Cash. Johnny smiles. \n\n\"Now listen here. I don't much appreciate y'all coming down here and trying to wreck things. I'm going to give you till I finish this here song. If you haven't left, then I'm going to get mad.\"\n\n\"There's a man coming round taking names...\"\n\nJohnny sings. The aliens leave. Best to not piss off the man in black. \n\n", "Johnny was flying his starship across the universe divide, chain-smoking cigarettes, popping pills from his infinite supply, and generally enjoying the afterlife, when a beacon of divine energy called him back home. It seemed that the Man in Black had been called back from beyond the grave to stand up for the beaten down once again. \n\nNecromancy is a tricky magic, but Death was just about sick of having his personal narcotics supply garnished, and gave up the old troublemaker’s soul easily. The Tennessee ground trembled beneath the wizard’s staff, and Cash sprang up out of the ground, his earthy remains restored to their full glory (and tolerance). Johnny thanked the wizard for letting him come back to party once more and looked up at the approaching alien army as it thundered through the sky. After making a quick plan, Cash made three requests: for someone to fetch his old guitar, a wide-brimmed black hat, and all the drugs in the northern hemisphere. \n\nThe supplies were gathered, and Johnny was sent out as the human’s envoy to greet the alien landing party. The fleet had entered the solar system months before, and many predictions had been made as to where they would land to begin their invasion. Unfortunately, they chose Johnny’s favorite spot to perform. The extraterrestrials’ huge crafts lowered themselves down, down, down through the atmosphere, suspended on huge rings of fire. They disembarked in what they’d taken as a strategic location, nearby the capital of the most populated state in the union. The aliens exited their huge crafts and were greeted by a burnt and twisted sign, nearly destroyed by their engines: Folsom Prison.\n\nJohnny was waiting for them there, already hopped up on uppers, downers, and more alcohol than the state of California had to give him. He invited the alien soldiers into a newly built arena at the site of the prison, put together hastily for the biggest performance ever to grace the cosmos. As the aliens entered, utterly confused, they were each given a large helping of amphetamines and barbiturates, along with a case of beer. These particular aliens had a similar nervous system to humans, and the drugs had a slightly magnified effect on them. \n\nThe ensuing concert was livestreamed across the whole globe, and every nation tuned in to watch the reanimated outlaw give one last blowout gig. Johnny sang every hard-hitting song in his repertoire, from Cry, Cry, Cry to A Boy Named Sue. Even though the aliens couldn’t fully understand the language, they got the messages. The concert lasted three days, fully exhausting the battle-hardened aliens through the power of Cash’s music. \n\nBy the end of the spectacle, the aliens had given up on invading the planet and instead sought out every CD, record, and digital music retailer on that side of the Mississippi, just so they could keep listening to the songs they were beginning to know by heart. Coming down from the otherworldly high he’d been on, Johnny Cash gave a tip of his wide-brimmed hat and faded back into the afterlife, knowing that the planet was safe and that he’d made a few million new fans. \n" ]	2
	[WP] It is a simple food, but the emotions it evokes in you are anything but.	[ "Pickled oakra is a favorite snack of mine. My mom would make them, using fresh oakra either grown in our backyard or grown on a local farm. Pickling is a relatively simple process similar to canning, and when done properly the preservation it causes lets the food remain unspoiled almost indefinitely.\n\nNot that the preservation piece mattered much to me. I could, and often did, consume full jars of the oakra in a matter of an afternoon. They were addictive to me, and my mom knew it.\n\nI joined the Army, and got stationed a thousand miles from home. I measured this distance using Google maps, exactly 999.9 miles from the quarters I lived in and the front door of home. My mom would mail jars in care packages, and the contents would be devoured the same afternoon as their arrival.\n\nOnce or twice the jars would break in transit, and I would eat around the broken glass to get my fix.\n\nA part of it was the taste, but another part was what that taste meant. No matter how far away I was, a taste of the oakra and I would be home. Each jar was a vinegar-soaked message saying, \"I love you.\"\n\nMy mom was diagnosed with cancer my last year at that post. I transferred to another post, and the jars kept coming. The cancer went away, and the jars kept coming. \n\nThen the cancer came back, and it spread. She got weaker, and I spent more time back at home. The pickling slowed, then stopped. She fought the cancer valiantly, but eventually the cancer won. A year and a half ago she left this life for the next one.\n\nA jar sits in my dad's kitchen, unopened. A jar sits in my apartment's cabinet, unopened. I still enjoy that food, and eat store-bought oakra pickles when I can find them, but I doubt I will ever eat that last batch.", "Your very first memory is the smell of roasting chestnuts. \n\n\nShe did the peeling, the cutting, the boiling and roasting, and you watched on, fascinated by the entire process. The huge, open fireplace roared beside you, a comforting heat against one side of your face. The shrivelled, white nuggets that appeared from the hard shells made you giggle. You remember her laughter as she watched you, her beaming smile. It was a smile that would not re-appear over the ensuing years. \n\n\nThe memory is distant, nowadays. Like a dream that you’re not sure ever happened. It seems too perfect in hindsight. Was the fire really that big? Was it really white and snowing outside? How did the decorations seem to glow as your memory infers? And most of all… where was he?\n\n\nSomewhere far away, if she was smiling. \n\n \nBut it wasn’t a dream. On the night that he took her from you, as you tearfully held her hand, she described every single detail of that moment. Her favourite memory was your very first, and you took some comfort in that. \n\n\nThey say that smell evokes memories more than any other sense, and roasting chestnuts now has a bittersweet effect on you. Part comfort, part mourning, part happiness, part nostalgia. The first time you remember seeing her smile was also the last, because of him. Part hate.\n\n\nYou peel another chestnut and toss it onto the flat, iron top of the searing hot wood-burning stove in the corner of the cabin. It’s not as big as the old fireplace in your memory, but it serves its purpose nonetheless. A maximum capacity of three logs, but with the door closed and the vents open it burns far, far hotter than any open fireplace ever could. Your mother’s smile pops back into your mind once again as you gaze into the flames. \n\n\n‘One step at a time’. Her last words, whispered in your ear before she bled out on the floor all those years ago. At the time you took them literally; a glimpse of how she survived him. One night at a time. One punch at a time. One hospital admission at a time. \n\n\nThe hot, cast-iron hinges of the door creak loudly now and a blinding heat pours into the room as you prise it open to throw another piece onto the fire. His upper arm crackles, blisters and spits against the glass. One step at a time. Your mood lightens with every piece. \n\n\nThe smell of roasting chestnuts fills your nostrils again. Your first memory, her favourite memory, his very last. \n\n\nAnd you can take some comfort in that. \n\n\n------\n\n\nr/Nw5gooner", "I took a bite out of the apple. The crispy crackle reverberated within the four walls. It was good.\n\nThe apple reminded me of my early childhood: Sweet, I would spend my afternoons frolicking in the sun. Where worries were secondary. Hearkening back to the days before I was alone.\n\nThe apple had an aftertaste too: Sour, like my troubled teen years, those days I did not have a family, and whatever else I had, I gained through strife, through deceit, through blood.\n\nThese memories were precious, no, they are precious. But after relishing in it, just like the apple, all that's left is a core, rotten, condemned to death.\n\n\"How was it, Sir?\" A lone voice asked.\n\n\"Could've been better, for a last meal.\" I answered, still trying to comprehend the finality of it all." ]	3
	[WP] You are bored in your history class one day and decide to start doodling in your textbook. This leads you to discover that you can literally rewrite history. Everyone simply accepts these changes like they've always been a part of the text, and no one suspects your role in it.	[ "Mr. Wright was droning on and on about the importance of the significance of George Washington crossing the Delaware. I'd better at least take out my notebook and look like I'm paying attention. He's hard of sight anyway so it's not like it'll be a hard ruse. Still, listening to him get on his soapbox about Washington was annoying.\n\nWhat if, I thought to myself, he crossed the river wearing only his underpants. I started sketching out the most rudimentary drawing of G.W. I could (it was basically just a stick figure with a colonial hat and beard.) and omitted his regal coat, blouse, and pantaloons only leaving him a nice comfy pair of heart stitched boxers.\n\nSatisfied with my masterpiece I tuned back into Mr. Wright's speech. \"Now class as we all know Washington was a man of the people. During his ride across the Delaware the boat dipped violently and soaked some of the crew. Valuing his crew's health and safety he stripped down to his britches and gave his warm out garments to the shivering crew-mates.\"\n\nThe class chuckled a little, \"It's okay to laugh,\" Mr. Wright said, \"it's an awkward yet patriotic moment non our history.\". I was in shock. Did I really just hear him say that? Am I dreaming? Pinching myself only hurt so I elected to open the textbook and find the painting of G.W. and the infamous Delaware. There he was. George Washington. Standing in the boat. Only in his underwear. I can't believe my eyes. Did I just do that? Did I change history?\n\nA week passed and I staved off any drawing, mainly out of fear and disbelief. Today's topic in history was the Civil War and I might just test out this new found power.\n\n\"The Battle of Antietam, one of the most famous battles in which the Union won by amassing one giant cannon, the size of at least ten men, and unleashing a hellfire of grapeshot among the Confederate forces. You can see that engineering marvel standing tall in Sharpsburg to this day!\"\n\nI can't believe this! History is mine for the taking, what should I even do? Oh my God the possibilities. Napoleon? He's six feet tall now. Hitler? 4' 2\" and no mustache. Oh The Sphinxes! They're all giant cat statues and the Great Pyramids (despite their name) are domes!\n\nHistory class will never be boring again!\n\n===========Part 2===============\n\nThanks to u/someone9594 for asking for a second part\n\n\"Alright class, it took me longer than I expected but the grades from last week's test are finally in. Now the highest mark, as usual, is Mr. Lail with a 95.\" Mr Wright handed my test back to me, \"Not your best Mr. Lail, but marvelous all the same.\"\n\nA 95!? History bends to my every whim, what do you mean a 95!? Looking over the exam Mr. Wright had left a comment. \n\nJason, I don't know what may have possessed you to think that the Great Pyramids were domes when we all in fact know they're square. If it's some sort of game or whatnot that you're playing out of boredom I'd advise against it. You're a bright student Jason don't get complacent.\n\nExcuse me? Square? Flipping back through my history sketches there isn't any sort of change. The pyramids I drew are still domed and there's Washington in his boxers. What about the text book?\n\nI flung the history textbook out from the tray and started thumbing through at the speed of a squirrel on a caffeine high. My heart began to beat harder and harder as I combed through to Egypt. Come on, I thought to myself, this has got to be a prank. A pang of horror and dread shot through me as I saw two square pyramids staring back at me.\n\nLifting my gaze out from the folds of the book, I stared out into the open. My eyes not focused on anything in particular. The anxiety of history changing over taking my senses. I felt a tap on my shoulder and jumped a little. \"Hey Jason,\" I recognized that voice, it was Melanie, \"you usually never miss a question, you okay?\" \n\nI let out a nervous chuckle \"Yeah I'm okay, just a little embarrassed about what I got wrong.\" \"Oh well, what was it? Was it the section about ship names because I bombed that part.\" She waited behind my desk expectingly. \"I uh, I got the question about the pyramids wrong.\" Melanie laughed to herself. \"Well what did you put down silly?\" Swallowing and almost choking on my spit, \"I said they were domes instead of squares, I don't know what got into me.\"\n\nI could see a sort of shock go through Melanie as I said they were square. \"It happens to the best of us.\" She said and promptly left my desk.\n\nThe next day was strange, we were reviewing the Civil War and my ten man cannon was still there but something was off. I could hear a frantic squeaking behind me, and turned to see Melanie burning a whole in her notebook with an eraser. She looked troubled like something just went unexpectedly wrong. Averting my eyes back to the book, I saw \"M+J\" was embossed plain as day along the side. I watched as the cannon vanished and reappeared as if nothing was ever there.\n\nApproaching Melanie after class was nerve-racking, talking to girl's wasn't easy for me and this history warping tension didn't make things any easier. What if I was wrong about her? I'd out myself and look like a complete weirdo all the same. \n\nI spoke plainly, \"Hey, I liked what you did to the cannon.\" Melanie froze, and flushed a tone of beat red. \"You saw?\" She put her hand behind her neck and stared down at her feet. \"Yeah, I saw.\" I said, debating if telling her my power was the right thing to do. \"How did you do that?\" Melanie looked worried as she answered. \"I just got bored and drew that and there it was.\" I laughed a little \"You know I made the Great Pyramids domes once.\" She chuckled, \"I forgot they were domes and wrote in squares on the fill-in.\" I gulped, somewhat audiobly, \"Want to sit together for lunch? We could make history together.\" She smiled with a gleam in her eye, \"That sounds wonderful.\"\n" ]	1
Guys, an alternate sentence for the ancient text is "meet me in the vault at the sun's core." Please use the one you like the most. I'd love to read your responses, let those minds run wild!	[WP] Deep in the mariana trench an ancient alien artifact was found. Years later, conclusive tests have been run on the energy signature emanating from it, the ancient text almost fully deciphered. On it, a small passage of text reads "There is a vault at the sun's core."	[ "On this day, the history of nine billion humans and all their ancestors culminated in a thousand names better than the one chosen for the Giant Earth Radio Transmission Tower, GERTT. These names popped in and out of existence in the private thoughts of human beings around the world, and some of them bounced around the Internet, but alas, GERTT stuck.\n\nThe first transmission GERTT sent was our only bit of literature whose ultimate origin was not a human mind. A wise choice, as human choices go.\n\nIt was found at the deepest point in the ocean, in the place humans sadly declined to name Poseidon's Buttcrack. A smooth, black square bearing a fanciful swirl that humans didn't recognize as an alien's name, and a series of markings that we eventually translated to \"Meet me in the vault at the Sun's core.\"\n\nWe also translated into binary, Morse code, and (as directly as possible) into radio frequency data, and transmitted each toward the galactic center. We ended the transmission with the phrase spoken in the voice of a white human male, in English, as God intended.\n\nSoon, we will attempt a manned flight directly into the Sun's core. We will be competing with the entire mass of the Earth and Sun, which are also being pulled toward the Sun's core, and the momentum and electromagnetic forces that keep them out, respectively.\n\n\\------------------------------\n\nOn this day, a creature who didn't think of herself as particularly alien addressed the governing assembly of Pluto and Charon. \"We have received a message,\" she said, in a language other than English, of course, \"It came from Earth, where the aliens live. It came via a radio transmission a hundred times as powerful as anything we've detected before. It said, 'Meet me in the vault at the Sun's core.'\"\n\nA hush fell over the Assembly. They knew the phrase well. It was murmured at every funeral, sung in hymns and dirges, whispered in prayers for the dead, and written on every gravestone. \"Meet me where the day is brightest. Meet me at the end of your long fall. Meet me in the vault at the Sun's core.\"\n\nDear God, they are not merciful. Dear God, they know we are here. Dear God, they are coming for us.", "The message was clear: \"Meet me in the vault at the sun's core\".\n\nThere were engravings surrounding the glyphs. It was a map, and a team of geologists was working relentlessly to find the place.\n\nDetermining the age of the artifact was almost impossible; the thing pulsed with a semblance of life, it continuously absorbed some of its surrounding and recycled it, keeping itself in a perfect shape for ages. It also radiated, and being in its presence was inspiring. Major breakthroughs were made in many fields of science in the many years it took to decipher the glyphs.\n\nThe planet was not the same place after the Discovery. It was a new era.\n\nToday, the team of geologists had their own major breakthrough with the map. They ran simulations for the shape of the continents from the early days of Earth to the last thousands of years. The simulations were becoming more and more precise, reaching a resolution of a century per frame. The shape recognition algorithms finally found a perfect match.\n\nAll agreed. They were taking the artifact to the hills indicated on the map.\n\nThe only final piece of disagreement was about the public announcement. A few thought that it would be better to tell the whole world before going to the site.\n\nThe vast majority wanted it to be a surprise.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAs they approached the hills, their imagination ran wild. Some imagined an ancient ship, buried deep underground, waiting for the key to open it. Some saw vivid equations and interactions of exotic elements they never could hope to imagine. Some saw an even brighter new era for humankind.\n\nNone of them noticed the change in the artifact.\n\nThey were getting closer, and the artifact was vibrating intensely. What was a low, imperceptible hum in the previous years was becoming so loud, the ground shook. What was a faint pulsating glow was now a blinding light.\n\nYet, none of them noticed, lost in their own minds, saturated by utopian, heavenly visions.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThey were almost there. The artifact stood straight, as if moving by its own will. It approached the site.\n\nIt was preparing to send its final message.\n\nThe surrounding hills bathed in the light. The ground shook. It shifted, revealing ancient structures made in elements unknown to anyone before that moment. All the humans gained a moment of clarity. All the animals around them, too. All living things in what were hills moments before, shared a single thought: \n\n\"At last. We are going back home.\"\n\nThe effect cascaded through the whole country.\n\nThen the continent.\n\nAnd the oceans.\n\nThe whole planet moved.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nEarth was going to the core of the sun." ]	2
	[WP] You’ve realized that you can’t die to virtually anything, knowing that, you’ve adventured the world and done everything you’ve ever wanted! Now, finally done, you feel that your life has lost it’s meaning, so you set out to do the one thing you’ve never done: find what CAN kill you.	[ "If you were immortal, what would you do?\n\nLiterally everything I can that no mortal can.\n\nThat was what I said. The moment after I got hit and runned by a car and walked away like it was nothing, I realized I was invincible. \n\nI tried everything, experimenting with stuff that can and will kill a human. A normal one anyway. \n\nDrinking bleach? Didn't kill me.\n\nJumping on the rails of the train? Didn't kill me.\n\nEVERYTHING. Can't kill me.\n\nI felt a surge of unexplainable excitement run through my body. I can do anything and not die. It. Is. The. Best. Feeling.\n\nI did everything I wanted to do.\n\nI went to South Lake Tahoe and skied without a helmet, landing head-first onto a rock. Had an injury, but I laughed it off. \n\nI went sky-diving without a parachute, ended up having slight injuries, but nothing fatal to kill me.\n\nHeld my breath for far too long I lost track of time. By now, I can be in the Guinnes Book of Records for how long I can hold my breath.\n\nBasically everything I did in my life was so fun, dangerous, and exciting.\n\nI have unlimited time, but there are limited things I can do on the Earth.\n\nSure I can wrestle a bear without dying, and that made me felt.... weird.\n\nIf any other human can be invincible as I am now, wouldn't they do the same thing too? Doing life-threatening stuff, and basically enjoying and savoring this privilege? \n\n\nNah they wouldn't. Only I would.\n\n\nFor the past 5 years, I practically crossed off everything from my impossible bucket list.\n\n\nAnd....... I felt empty.\n\n\nIt was like when you worked so hard to beat that damn boss level, and trying to beat it for weeks, and when you finally did, you feel this joyous feeling and then.... You feel as if part of your life is empty. The feeling of 'Oh I'm finished. What am I supposed to do next?'\n\nI felt that. Everything I ever wanted to do, I already did. And the fact that I can't die from anything, probably even Death itself, got me depressed and a sprinkle of some exstentialism.\n\nWhat if I'll see everyone I love die? My current significant other, my parents, my siblings, my friends, all of those who mattered to me, I'll watch them all slowly die and yet I am here. Being unvulnerable to everything.\n\nWhat would you do for the rest of your life, when you already did what you wanted? Wouldn't life be utterly meaningless? Would you still enjoy it? Knowing you already accomplished everything you wanted to do, do I still have a purpose?\n\n5 years I did all the impossible. 5 years I was happy. 5 years I felt excited. After 5 years I feel empty. \n\n\n10 years go by so quickly. And I felt worse every minute that goes by. My parents are dead. My sibling keep in touch with me whenever they get the chance. My significant other still here, and we had been married for the past 2 years, although we are childless, we are happy.\n\nAt least their happy.\n\nI can't go on like this. I feel so useless. I feel like I'm living without meaning.i feel like a mindless zombie. I don't have expectations, I don't ambitions , goal or other shit. I've already done them.\n\nNever in my life was I so desperate to find anything, ANYTHING, that can kill me. I never wanted tk die so much up to this day. I just wanted to be gone. I don't want to waste mh immortality. I already used it. I want to get rid of it. I NEED to get rid of it.\n\nEveryone wants to be immortal at some point in their life. Be it in your last final minutes, or when you were just a kid.\n\nTake it from someone who is one.\n\nDon't wish for it.\n\nIt's literally a Living Hell.\n\n\n\n\n------\n\nI had always been thinking of this kind of plot and this one was already pre-made but a shorter version of what I had in my journal. If there were typos, sorry because I'm typing on a phone and it is hard. Lol. Anyways, constryctive criticism would be appreciated, since I want to improve my writing skills. Thanks!\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You know everything that has been, and everything that will be, but are stuck attending high school. One day you meet a girl in class who you know nothing about.	[ "Her name was Sunny. It wasn't actually Sunny; her parents were hippies. They named her Solana, and all of human society except for Sunny's parents agreed never to speak of that embarrassing name. Her smile, radiant. Her hair, golden. But there's a problem.\n\nThe problem?\n\nThat's all I know.\n\nAnd usually, I know _everything_ about _everyone_. I am, you see, a god of sorts. Not one that makes men from clay and women from ribs, or the sort that casts down lightning from Olympus, or the kind who revels in the heavens. I'm the unfortunate kind condemned to living among humans, cast out from Heaven for misdeeds in past lives.\n\nAnd, being a god, I have powers. I have what is called The Sight. There were three goddesses long ago. If time is a thread, then these goddesses wove it into a tapestry. One spun the thread, one wove it, and one cut it. I'm friends with the weaver, and she tells me what will happen, before, after and as it happens. She is sympathetic to my cause. She tells me things.\n\nBut, she did not tell me about Sunny.\n\nShe did not tell me of her birth, arrival at my ordinary high school, or of her death.\n\nI try to act normal, but there's a possibility Sunny could be a god.\n\n---\n\nI just woke up, that's all I got." ]	1
	[WP] You die and can see a counter of all the times someone has thought of you. The counter has remained still for centuries, until today.	[ "My name is Greg. I was a veteran in the civil war and has lost my last name to the changing times. I’ve used my death days sitting in a small cubicle like all the others that have died. We all have small counters on our computers.\n\nThese counters have evolved over time since I got here after that bullet went through my skull. When I got here they were mere paper and floating ballpoint pen. When ever someone would think about you you paper would erase and the pen would write a new number. \n\nAfter some time it changed to a large computer and then continued to get smaller until we all had Mac books. Now if someone thinks of you your counter just deleted one or two numbers and adds new ones. Sadly my number has been stagnant for over one hundred years. The last person to think of me was my mother when see was on her death bed. Her cubicle is floors above mine but I do see her on occasion.\n\n42\n\n42\n\n42\n\nYears go by and I don’t see anything change. My neighbor was a popular guy and even his counter hasn’t changed. He stopped at 608. Sad day when yours stops, everyone tries comforting you but you know that once it stops you’ll have an eternity to wait until your shift is over.\n\n42\n\n42\n\n42\n\nAs you see after your last number you have to wait 10 millennium until you can leave. It’s the most depressing thing you’ve ever done.\n\n42\n\n42\n\n42\n\nEvery time your numbers increases you have the choice to hop over to the living world and see who and why they thought of you. People like Albert Einstein and Abe Lincoln always have there numbers going up but never go and see what’s happening. I’d love for just once I can have that feeling.\n\n42\n\n42\n\n43\n\nWHAT. I never thought this would happen!!! Who! What! Why! I’m ecstatic who would think of me. As I hop over to the living world I see a boy maybe 15-16 laying in bed. He seems to be sick. Not to sick maybe the flu or cold.\n\nThe boy is holding a phone and typing like a mad man. What is he typing? Why did he think of me? Who is he? As my mind races I look into his head too see what he’s doing. He’s typing what looks like a short story. He’s writing a story of me!! And it looks like he figured me out from a website of all the civil war casualties. He liked my name because it didn’t have a last name. \n\nWhat a boy. He’s a fine young man. I watch as he finishes his story and ends with the words ‘Don’t forget me’\n\n\n\n__________________________________________________\n\n\nThis was my first prompt I loved the concept and hope you all enjoy it.", "As I close my eyes and draw my last breath, the counter immediately appears in front of my face. I almost ignore it, because I don't want to have my soul crushed yet again. The counter is set up to tell me how many people have thought about me during my previous lifetime, however it has always stayed at a consistent \"Zero\" for the past thirty-six lifetimes. However, this time it was different this time. This time, as I looked up as the counter, I notice that it no longer reads \"Zero.\" Instead, it reads \"One.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI immediately awaken in my usual body, in the same bed I have woken up in for the past thirty-six lifetimes. For the thirty-seventh time, I awake as a eighteen year-old man, one who would go on to die at the exact moment I turn fifty years old. None of that matters to me now, though, in-fact it has become commonplace for me to immediately start a life for myself despite dying mere moments ago. However, this time was different, a life could wait, for the first time in one-thousand one-hundred and fifty-two years, someone has thought about me as more than just an everyday individual, and I was going to figure out who it is.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nI spend the first three years of my thirty-seventh life searching the city for anyone who recognized me. Due to always being reborn with the same body, you'd think that at least one person would recognize me. Sadly, that didn't seem to be the case, and no one I talked to even knew my name. I began to lose hope, thinking that I misread the counter, or that maybe it was an accident that I was thought about. However, that couldn't be the case, the counter isn't that simple. The counter only counts thought that are more special to a person, such as thoughts of absolute hatred or love, of course I was hoping for the latter.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nI took a break after the eleventh year, finally giving in to my doubt. I built a life for the next five years, living a normal as possible until December twenty-fifth, the day I was sent the letter.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe letter was simple, yet cryptic. There were many words, yet none made sense, not at first. There were ramblings such as, \"A phoenix is burdened with eternal life,\" and, \"Thoughts lead to actions\". There was one sentence, though, that was blunt and to the point. It simply said, \"On the dawn of the five-hundredth eighty-forth thousandth day, meet me at your first resting place\".\n\n&#x200B;\n\nIt didn't take me long to figure out that the five-hundredth eighty-forth thousandth day of my life was the last day of my fiftieth lifetime. The strange thing wasn't that, though, it was the fact that my first resting place was under the tree in my back yard, meaning that someone knew about me when I first died.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI pondered for years on whether or not it would be worth it to keep my hopes up for thirteen more lifetimes. I ultimately decided that it would be, so I waited. I waited for thirteen lifetimes for the day that I meet the mysterious person who thought about me.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nAs the clock hits twelve in the morning, the dawn of December thirty-first arrives. And as the day rises, I feel my heart begin to pound in my chest, noises suddenly becoming much louder, even colors become so saturated that I'm nearly blinded by the the darkness of the nights. At that moments, I feel the all of my fifty lifetimes come together and merge into this wonderful feeling, a feeling of relief. For the first time in one-thousand six-hundred years, I feel free. Free from the shackles of life and free from the ever lasting pain of immortality.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThen, I see her. The mysterious writer, the mysterious women who thought about me. She walks up to me and smiles, but she doesn't say a word. I smile back, taking one of her hand in my own. Tears flow down my cheeks as I look at the women before me, the women who had given me a reason to keep hope for many lifetimes.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe women speaks delicately, \"Hello Sheane, its been a while, hasn't it\".\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI nod, tears continuing to flow. As the tears flow, I stare at the girl in front of me in disbelief. I can't even talk, I simply wrap my arms around her in a hug and continue to cry. The world around us begin to fade, leaving us alone in a white abyss. I take a step back and look at the girl, the one person I never forgot about, my own sister.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAnd as I look at my sister, I begin to fade into oblivion, but this time there isn't a counter. Instead, I wake up in my arm chair, looking at my sister who is asleep on the couch, and who is also very alive.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nSeven years later, me and my sister have made a life for ourselves. She has no recollection of the lifetimes I spent in repeat, but I do." ]	2
	[WP] You are the captain of a janky spaceship that barely passes the intergalactic travel guidelines. One day you notice a red beeping coming from the control panel as your engines fail and you plummet into an unknown planet	[ "I cracked my neck, settling back into my chair that's cushion has molded around my butt. The joystick that I used for steering this God forsaken piece of junk was about to break and I wasn't going to pay to replace it.\n\n \"Captain Sterling.\" One of my men said. I swiveled around to see Guobzen, some guy I picked up in the Loben system when I was high on fleeb juice. \n\n \"What is it?\" I asked.\n\n \"The toilet's clogged and there's sewage pouring out into the halls.\"\n\n \"Are you telling me this or are you going to clean it up?\" I growled. I shooed him away and pulled out the magazine I got on our last stop. It was filled with spicy pictures of exotic women of all species. I kicked my feet up on the dash and whistled to the beat. The beat? I leaned over the magazine and looked at the control panel. A dim red light was blinking and making a barely audible beeping. \"Oh shit.\" I mumbled. \"Crew!\" I pressed the speaker button for the ship. \"You guys might want to buckle up.\" For a second nothing happened and I clenched my butt. Then the engines went haywire, spinning us in all different directions until we were thrown off course and headed into the planet we had just passed. \n\n \"Captain!\" I could hear from just outside the door. \"I'm soaked in poop!\" \n\n \"I told you to buckle up!\" I barked back. \"It's not my fault that you stayed in the hallway!\" I struggled to put my seat belt over my fat stomach because it was stuck, but I got it eventually. I turned off the power to the engines, but we didn't stop accelerating. My nose started to itch but I ignored it, grabbing the glass box that protected the green button. I flicked it open and slammed my hands down on it, parachutes fumbling open, probably. I felt the ship slow and we entered the atmosphere. I sighed leaning back in my chair and looking up the ceiling, except the ceiling wasn't there anymore. It had burned off, or fell off, I wasn't quite sure, but I could see the parachute. It was purple, the color of the most superior race, the humans.\n\nAnyways, I thought we landed on a big box, but it turned out to be a house. We paid our respects to the deceased by apologizing and borrowing all, I mean some of their money, hoping to be able to use it at the market. The people there called themselves Dadawollans but I called them ugly bastards. I mean, they had terrible fashion sense. Nevertheless I was able to buy back some dirt cheap engines, even though they didn't have any new joysticks. \n\n\"Don't you think we should patch up the ceiling?\" One of my crew members asked. \n\nI snorted, \"all we need is some metal sheets and a nail gun, right?\" They turned to look at each other anxiously and stood behind Guobzen in unison.\n\n\"Captain.\" He said, licking three of his eyes at the same time while tugging down the bottom of his shirt. \"I think it's time we go our separate ways.\"\n\n\"What!\" I yelled, turning eyes from the Dadawollans from the market. \"What are you talking about?!\"\n\n\"He's saying that the ship is not safe, and you're too much of a stingy Martian to do anything about it!\" One of them said in the crowd \n\n\"Hey!\" I yelled. \"That's speciesist!\" But they all left and I stood there alone in the market, with two engines and no friends." ]	1
	[WP] When a million people become aware of someone's existence, they die instantly. All public figures are dead, and society must split into small factions	[ "Another shadowy patron descended the dilapidated stairs into the poorly lit bar, female by the looks of it. It was impossible to say if it was another regular, everyone belonging to this micro-faction wore the same dark garbs. The head was wrapped completely in fabric except for a section running along the eyes, the torso-piece was also a little baggy as not to betray too much of who was underneath. \n\nThe potential stranger walked up and gestured at the bartender, red characters floated in the air in front of her.\n\n“Hail. Double moonshot whiskey, neat, thank you.” The letters hung in the air until the bartender responded, blue letters swiftly painting themselves into existence in front of him.\n\n“You got it, coming right up.”\n\nThe bartender quickly grabbed an ancient crystal bottle from the shelf and began pouring it into a glass, the strong alcohol mixture briefly provoking his nose.\n\n“I don’t recognize your writing, a traveler perhaps?” the blue characters casually commented as the bartender continued cleaning a glass with a dirty piece of cloth. For a moment the stranger simply sipped the whiskey, taking precautions as not to soak the garb that hung over her mouth.\n\n“You don’t know me, but I know all about you, deserter,” The red characters angrily carved into the air.\n\n“Or do you prefer that I call you Rupert?”\n\nThe bartender scrambled over the bar-counter to expunge the name with thick blue lines before any of the other patrons took notice.\n\n“Are you crazy? I don’t know who you think I am, but you need to get the hell out of my bar!”\n\n“I’ll leave soon enough,” the red letters lazily painted in front of her “Right after the big announcement”.\n\n“What announcement? What have you done?” blue jagged characters quickly sprayed out into the air.\n\nA moment later the bartender started to convulse, his panicked bloodshot eyes desperately surveying his surroundings for anything that could help him, but it was already too late. His hands grasped at his throat as his mouth began to foam, a final croak escaping his lips before he finally slumped unnaturally to the ground. \n\nThe stranger calmly jotted out her message and left the disposable device at the twisted corpse. She made her way out of the bar, a statement in red the only evidence of her passing by.\n\n“The Acumen sends their regards.”", "It happened so suddenly no one had a chance to offer even the wildest of ideas. Since then we've had to split up and live in groups of no more than 250,000. I've seen mothers taken from kids, the elderly euthanized, the world fell into complete chaos, and there wasn't anything we could do.\n\nNews travels so slowly now. Traveling over 500 miles, the standard distance between settlements on horseback was a daunting task, and only to be undertaken with information of paramount importance. . . It's easy to forget that we're not the only settlement sometimes.\n\nFor percisely this reason it came with a fear and anxiety when I recieved the package on my doorstep from the neighbouring colony. \n\nWe hadn't had contact with the outside world in over 25 years. . . So what could it be now? I pray to the Tao it's not another outbreak of disease, the last one had taken so many of us. It was after this the council of the 9 conviened to make it law to self contain any pathogens in your community. \n\nThat's right, the council. I must rally them before handling the package, lest another tragedy strike our delicate community.\n\nIt took two days to get our officials in the same room. There were 9 of us, three on every side of our territory, then I, their govenor.\n\nWe had the contents of the package removed and examined by a poor fellow using the only hazmat suit we had left after the great plagues. It had been duct taped in several places.\n\nThe council members held their breath as the contents were removed. A VCR tape and a single letter. I stood up as quickly as I could and screamed 'Bring me that damn letter! And someone get me a VCR and a generator!'\n\nThe man brought me the letter as the council scurried to find the requested resources.\n\nI sat back down in my seat and carefully unfolded the letter, it read, \n\n'Mayor Grimly, I am writing from the Kodur district with the findings of my R&D department. My scientists claim to have found an answer to the chaos that has destroyed our great civilization over 40 years ago. Please find included their research tape and let me know what you think as soon as you are able to watch it.' ~ Mayor Fosuh.\n\nI sat silent for a long while reflecting on what I had just read. . They found an answer? How could that be possible? The best minds of the Lost Civilization, with their ultra sophisticated technology had worked on this problem for years before being completely wipped out. My parents among them, which led me to take the mayorship at only 25 years old. No one could explain the mysterious and almost synchronized deaths of the lost world's leaders. The entire communities of people dead almost over night. None of the same causes of death, but it was certain by 2730 that man kind was on the brink of extinction. That's when the great divide took place. \n\nAfter what seemed like a life time someone finally got a VCR hooked up and I demanded the tape be played immediately.\n\nA picture of a brain appeared and then a diagram pointing out regions of it. Mankind had lost most of it's higher knowledge when all of this happened so I had trouble following some of the words. I ordered our own scientists to be brought in, but I was able to make out some of it.\n\n' A previously undeveloped part of the brain. . . ' \n\n' Global subconscious entity '\n\n' A form of telepathy, or manifestation of will ' \n\n' Great numbers are required. . . Approximately 1 million. '\n\nThat was all I could understand by myself before the tape ended and I shot out of my chair. 'Where are those damn scientists! ' I yelled.", "Please let me know what you think!\n\nI closed my eyes, allowing my head to droop. I gripped my thick, worn pocket notebook in one hand. The pages had been filled with tally marks. A count of all of those who knew me. When that count reached a million, I would perish.\n\nAll but one of the pages had been completely filled. The remaining page had room enough for ten more marks, or maybe even fifteen. But, it didn't matter. Even one more may well enough to doom me.\n\nIt was the price I paid for the safety of those under my care, as it had been the price my predecessors had paid. There were few willing to undertake my responsibilities.\n\nWhen the cataclysm had come, the celebrities, the socialities and the politicians had been the first to die. There had been none left to bear the burden of decision-making and governing. Electing another to a position of power would be impossible. Such an action would require that the individual in question be seen and known by people far more than the one million allowed to us.\n\nI had been born after the mysterious cataclysm that had rocked our society. I had no recollection of the world before, though my predecessor, who had been young when the cataclysm had come, had talked of that time often. I had heard tales of individuals who had sought to be seen, whose purpose and whose functions in society required the awareness of the masses. I had been told that being known was often the key to success.\n\nI could scarcely understand it. Hadn't our ancestors understood how lucky they were? To walk in public, with no fear that the very prospect of being seen or talking to a stranger could doom them both?\n\nI envied them bitterly.\n\nBut, even as I envied them, I had to admire their resilience. Even as civilisation had tattered, they had found ways to stitch it back together. Small fragments of the fragment of society had barred themselves behind almost impenetrable walls while using intermediaries to hold together the tears. \n\nSince I had been a child, I had dreamt of travelling the world. I had wanted to see what few fragments of society I could without killing myself. I had become a peacemaker and a merchant, diligent and thorough. I had dealt with others fairly and with compassion. I had ended the conflicts that my tiny clan had become involved in, agreed to act as an unbiased judge and mediator in the conflicts that other clans had wanted to end.\n\nI had succeeded too well. There were many clans who knew of me, who knew my name and whom I had become irrevocably tangled with in my ardour and optimism. I had kept a close watch on such stories, though I had been powerless to stop them. I knew that I had almost reached the one million limit, though I didn't know how closely. One more tale told of me could be the end of my life.\n\nBut I clung to the hope that it would not be the end of me. The clans still told stories of old heroes who had triumphed the in face of great odds. I, as had many others, grown up with tales of peacemakers and heroes, generals and scholars, whose lives had left a profound impact on the world.\n\nAs my final breath escaped my lungs, I hoped that my name would join the hallowed ranks of those forever remembered.\n\n/r/YarnsToTell" ]	3
	[WP]Your lover and you died at the same time. He is doomed to hell, and you to heaven. You both chose to stay in Limbo instead.	[ "She always saw the best in me when we were alive. Always helped me and stood by my side. Never questioned me. \n\nWe died and little changed. She still sees the best in me. Still stays by my side and helps to keep me here instead of go to hell. Doesn’t even question why I am damned.\n\nOf course, I am not a good person - I’m surprised there is an afterlife, but not surprised which portion of it I belong to.\n\n“Ours is a love for the ages” she would often joke when we were alive, but it is a joke no more.\nShe is kind and truly good. No surprise she deserves the paradise. If she moves on, I’d have to move too - you can only be here so long without a counteracting force. So she stays. For me.\n\n“I’ll never leave you” I would often say when we were alive - because leaving her would darken my life then, and blacken it now.\n\nPeople never really agreed with our relationship back then - she was kind, smart, and for many most importantly rich. I was just a devious pretty boy who was good with his tongue.\n\n“You’ll be happier if you leave him” they would often say, and it was probably true then and definitely now.\n\nI never thought she would abandon me, of course. Never feared that I’ll have to stop taking advantage of her riches then, nor do I fear that I will have to stop taking advantage of her goodness now.\n" ]	1
	[WP] describe the daily routine of a centaur who hides their horse half	[ "Clark carefully dressed himself, shades lowered. You never knew when a neighbor might be watching. The black dress shirt went on easily enough, followed by a skinny red tie. The pants took a little longer, maneuvering all four legs and two belts to ensure the pants stayed on. Clark hated the extra legs, but it was better than walking around with his horse bits more exposed, as many other centaurs preferred.\n\nHe clopped over to his phone and called for an automated car. The service was still in beta, but the infrastructure of New Toledo had been built with self-driving cars in mind, and for creatures of any size, from gnome to dragon. The city was relatively accommodating, but it didn’t make Clark feel any better. Centaurs were the most aligned race of the Nine, and he preferred to not draw attention to himself.\n\nIt was a boring, uneventful commute downtown. He directed the vehicle’s destination to an alleyway next to his building. Slinking out into the shadows between skyscrapers, he opened a side door, and let himself into the bar. It didn’t take too long to set up. Some dim lights, a spooky soundtrack, and the fog machines rolling. After half an hour, Clark’s Year-Round Halloween Bar was open for business.\n\nIt was a perfect hiding place for Clark. Centaurs weren’t known for following human holidays like the elves and goblins. He kept his hear short and clipped, unlike his brethren who liked the hair wild and shaggy. The thick fog machine obscured his form behind the bar, and the music covered the clops of his hooves. The occasional patron who was sober enough to notice his figure despite the fog always assumed it was an elaborate costume, in theme with kitsch pictoral stereotypes of the other eight of the Nine that covered the bar walls.\n\nClark worked long shifts as the bar’s owner and sole employee. New Toledo rent was insanely high, and the high rent afforded him privacy from neighbors in the nearby towers. His online friends knew him only as HorseKiller98768, and presumably believed him to be a racist Human, or a vet with PTSD from the Tenth War.\n\nIt was a lonely life, but it fit Clark the Centaur’s model of self-loathing and privacy well. Everything was continuing at its dreary, content pace until the Wizard knocked at his door." ]	1
	[WP] You're among the prison inmates with death penalty. Only prison warden knows that you're a journalist, secretly working on a story about it. Until suddenly the warden dies and your execution is in 3 days.	[ "Entry 554\n\n-Shit. The Warden just died. Looks like they're going to inject me in just three days for sure. How the hell am I supposed to explain this shit to them? \n\nOnce I die, my death is going to cause a scandal to the fucking company. I really hope my death will make this country get rid of the death penalty.\n\nI hate death row more than ever. Part of me wishes I could be granted the mercy of death. Now I see why capital punishment doesn't fucking work in the end. \n\nThe other death row inmates are probably hoping to be granted the mercy of death too. \n\nNow that Warden Jones Walter is dead from some apparent food poisoning, I don't know what to even say. \n" ]	1
	[WP] Prisoners of their corresponding crimes are sent to VR worlds with no memory of their lives before. You are sent to the world of Murderers, which is in constant war. The thing is, you can remember your life, and you remember that you never killed anyone.	[ "\"Dr. Lafite. I must be quite frank -- I do not understand the corrective purpose of your, ah, proposal.\"\n\nGunther's intonation was sing-song, pirouetting delicately around the inquiry. He did not want to offend the doctor - although Lafite had a brilliant mind, he was quick to take offense, making it difficult to guide their experiments toward more productive endeavors if Gunther did not regularly coax the physician into doing what he wanted.\n\n“Explain what you do not understand, Gunther.”\n\n“Our task is to improve the American’s penal system… placing 1st-degree murderous felons into a make-believe world where they get to regularly engage in a type of fantasy - indeed, the types of acts for which they are being originally punished for - does not seem so much as a punishment, as a… well…”\n\n“Reward, Gunther?”\n\n“Ah, yes, precisely. Reward. We are meant to modify the method of punishment, not enhance their pleasure.”\n\n“I take it, Gunther,” Dr. Lafite said with a cold stare, “that you have not comprehensively read my prospectus?”\n\nGunther shifted his feet slightly. “I admit I was a bit pressed for time… you see, last night, Frau Gos-”\n\n“If you would kindly flip to page 24 of my report, please,” Lafite interrupted, folding his hands behind his back.\n\nGunther stopped mid-sentence, and with a flare of the nostrils, snapped a dossier lying on the doctor’s desk, flipping the pages brusquely. He stopped and stared, reading for a minute.\n\n“I still don’t understand… every murderer placed in your fake-world has false memories implanted… making them believe they’re innocent? And creating for them wholesale bogus histories, with pure families and children?”\n\n“Correct.”\n\n“So?”\n\n“So… they engage in an everlasting hell of their own making, truly believing that they don’t belong there, their own mind working against them.” \n\n“But what happens if they begin to talk to each other… won’t they figure out what’s going on?”\n\n“Have you ever met a prisoner who claimed they were innocent, that you believed? Everyone knows that everyone in prison are all liars, even if you think that you're the sole innocent.” \n\n“Ah… true, true, my dear Doctor. Why… this is marvelous!” exclaimed Gunther.\n\n“Isnt it?”\n\nDr. Lafite grinned, his smile twisted.\n", "Imagine it. \n\nOne moment I have a job and a wife and kids and a purpose. No lofty goals, nothing unreachable. A carefully cultivated routine that fluctuates with minor variations. Love wife, raise kids, retire early.\n\nThat time feels like one singular moment, a mirage shimmering in the recesses of my mind. \n\nI am submerged in chaotic sound. Bursts of light overhead and mechanical thunder cracks, followed by screams of pain and terror and the darkness coming. \n\nI crouch beneath a low cement wall, fingers in my ears, eyes screwed shut, trying to forget and trying to remember as desperate laughter echoes through the empty streets. \n\nThis is the world of the dark. Dark hearts amidst an inky dark night.\n\nI try to remember to forget. Bullets ricochet off the building behind me. I am not scared about being flanked. In this hell everyone fights alone. \n\nThe laughter comes again in short high bursts, closer now, followed by sharp intakes of breath. They must have seen me crouch. Bullets spray overhead, the clatter of the gun deafens my ears. A ragged panting. Manic giggling.\n\nFlashes of light in the sky. Incendiaries. When you give a man a hammer...\n\nI am tuned to the crunch of heavy feet on fractured pavement. My hands grasp for something, a concrete block with metal sticking out on one end. I tense. The breaths are close, I can hear the rasps through fluid filled lungs. \n\nCombat boots appear a foot from me. The barrel of a gun passes right by me, held by a man in trench coat with a gas mask slung over his shoulder. He peers intently up, concentrating, controlling his laughter. He must think I am in the building. \n\nRage. An up-swelling for what was lost, what can never be mine again. I stand up and step forward and bring down the concrete chunk onto the back of his skull. He drops like a sack of potatoes. Blood sprays from the wound, the piece of metal embedded in his skull.\n\nA counter flashes in the bottom right corner of my vision. The number 1000 pulses once in a bright green, then drops to 999. \n\nA gun materializes in my hand, some kind of pistol. I am suddenly carrying a backpack.\n\nThe dead man beneath me flashes once, twice and then is gone. I turn the gun over, marveling. My pockets feel heavy with bullets.\n\n999 to go." ]	2
	[WP] You buy a strange clock from the pawn shop for $5 that tells only one number: 23. You go to sleep only to awaken from a horrible nightmare of you being shot down by a gunner. It felt so real but you brush it off as only a dream. You then look to your new weird clock and the number changed: 22.	[ "The next night before you fall asleep, you shiver in anxiety. Just for a second. You wonder if the change in the counter, the change in the display on the clock goes downwards rather than upwards like time normally travels meant that the device that you bought might be something different than a clock. You wonder what the device measures and if it had any connection to your previous night's dream. A stretch, the apophenia of an absent mind, surely. However when you put your hand by its dial you feel a vibration, a slight heat, and maybe a whirring.\n\n&#x200B;", "\"That can't be possible,\" as I think to myself. Just a fluke. The next day passed normal as could be. Woke up, had my hazelnut coffee, and drove off to work in the blistering heat of Texas. Construction kicks my ass everyday as the sun beats down on everyone around me. Even the winters here are so damn hot and I still won't move anywhere else. The thought of snow with extreme cold weather, no way I could do it. After the long day I always make my way back home, the usual route, past that old pawn shop. Don't know why I went in there, but I always had this feeling I needed to go in. That's when the clock caught my eye and I needed to buy it.\n\nAfter settling down I went to bed only to have another dream. \n\nThis dream was different. It was snowing outside my house. that couldn't be real, I live in Texas. I've never seen snow in my life, yet alone here! But looked so real, I've always been intrigued. I open my door with a cold blast of air the took my breath away. Startled I slammed the door shut again, caught my breath, and opened again. The air hit my like a brick wall, \"this cant be real,\" I thought to myself. I took a couple steps out and the snow brushed the tips of my toes as I stood on the fine line of concrete and the white wonderland in front of me. Something sparked inside and I felt like a kid again, this 220 pound, 6'3\" man couldn't of been more amazing of what was in front of me. I hopped forward into the fluff to feel the cold, soft, fluffy snow hit the bottom of my feet. It was cold but I didn't care, this was amazing. I started to walk along my driveway to the top. I've always seen the movies where people slide down a hill on their feet. I took a couple steps back and went for it. I started to slide and my inside exploded with joy, which ended fast as I really slipped and fell backwards. It was a fall I knew was going to end badly. I slammed my head on the concrete and I awoke, sitting straight up.\n\nI looked over at the clock and it said 21.", "Henry took deep unsteady breathes, calming himself down. He must have been having a nightmare.\n\nIt was still dark outside. As he gulped down air in his new apartment, he noticed something off. The air in the room tasted stale, like it had been trapped underground for too long. Ignoring it, he continued breathing in and out to calm himself down. He was just jittery from being in a new home, it would take him a couple of weeks to get used to it of course. He hadn't even unpacked yet.\n\nHe looked for his phone to check the time.\n\nReaching out of his bed he picked up his phone and tapped the screen. For a moment he just stared. The darkness seemed to swell around him making the room seem momentarily like a cage. Fear tightened his chest for a moment and his heart skipped.\n\nIt was his phone and everything looked normal. Everything except that instead of the time displayed on the screen he saw 5 characters: XXIII.\n\nIt was the same font. Same look. Same FEELING as the text on the small clock he had purchased earlier that day. The strange clock in the rough wooden casing that was black with age. The clock with only one thing showing on it: XXIII. Twenty-three.\n\nHe scrambled out of bed and turned on the light. Bright fluorescence filled the small apartment and calmed him down. The sounds of night filled the room. A car in the distance. The dim background noise of city life. He was ok. He tried to breathe in deeply, but the air still felt old somehow.\n\nHe was calmer but his heart was pounding in his chest. Had he imagined it?\n\nHe crept back towards his bed and picked up his phone again. XXIII. He unlocked it. In the top right corner where the time should have been: XXIII. He frantically opened the browser and typed in the search bar that appeared: \"What time is it Chicago\". The first result on the search page: XXII.\n\nHe placed the phone in the bed and ran to the moving boxes that were stacked in the corner of the room. He avoided the small clock on his desk. The one he had purchased at the pawnshop.\n\nHe didn't know what was happening but he admitted he was scared. Even with the bright light blanketing the room, he felt lost in darkness. Dumping the contents of the box on the ground he riffled through it until he found what he was looking for.\n\nIt was the box with his valuables in it, he had packed them carefully as the items were important or meaningful. In the box was the wristwatch his father had gifted him, and it lay there face down.\n\nHands shaking and breath coming faster, Henry turned it around. XXIII. Dark and bold, the roman numerals stood out against a blinding white background. It filled his vision. A flood of ice overwhelmed his veins.\n\nFinally, ever so slowly, he turned towards his desk where the clock he had purchased should be located. It was not there, but something else was. A dark, menacing object. A gun lay on the desk where the clock should have been. The shadows in the room shifted. One moment they were at one angle, the next a different one. They stretched. They reached.\n\nSuddenly, a loud crash came from the direction of the door. Henry turned quickly at the sound and froze. The door was blown away. And in the ruins of wood and metal stood... something. It was roughly human-shaped but dark. Darker than the night. Darker than anything Henry had dared to see or imagine. Its outline was fuzzy, shifting. Limbs jerked and Henry froze in fear as the horror raised its arm slowly, a gun held in its finger-like claws.\n\nThe creature's body jolted in the light, sucking the air from the room as it aimed the weapon. The thing's finger jerked. A loud noise. A shocking but brief PAIN.\n\nHenry opened his eyes, safe in his bed. For a second he didn't move. He grabbed at his phone, heart in his throat. 3:33AM. He felt sweat drip down his back as the tension in his body released.\n\nWas it just a dream? It was so real.\n\nHe immediately turned on the light and ran to his desk, unsure of what he would find or even expect. But this time it was not a gun lying there. It was just the strange clock, right where he had left it the day before. Exactly as it should be.\n\nAlmost exactly as it should be.\n\nHe panted in the night as he read the clock's face: XXII. Twenty-two.", "I’m on phone so forgive me for formatting it badly;\n\nI always love window shopping at the local pawn shop, but this caught my eye. A round clock made from mahogany with only one hand and one number on it: 23. Intrigued, I asked how much it was. “5$.” Seemed like a steal, so I handed the owner 5 bucks and brought it home. It didn’t seem to have batteries, but I put it on my nightstand anyway. As I was eating my dinner, I heard a ticking sound. It seemed to come from my room. I walked in and suddenly it stopped. I brushed it off, as it was probably my imagination. That night, I dreamt that I was robbed at gun point then shot square in the forehead. I woke up with a start, sweating excessively. I took a deep breath and looked at my nightstand. I had to double take but I saw it: the number changed from 23 to 22. I shook it of as it was probably just a coincidence. I continued my day as normal, going to my office job. When I came home, the ticking was audible again. At this point I was starting to believe it wasn’t my imagination. I threw out the clock. I slept peacefully that night, and had a normal dream. It was me walking a dog. As I approached my apartment building, I heard a screech. A car sped right at me. Frozen in fear, I didn’t move. It was right in front of me when I woke up. I heard a buzzing. Like an alarm clock. I look around in confusion, as I don’t have an alarm clock. Then I see it. The clock sitting on my night stand, with the number 21 on it. Visibly shaken, I go on a drive. Before I leave I check the calendar to see if I have any appointments. I see the date. February 1st, 2021. I didn’t think much about it and go on my drive. It was peaceful. On my way back, the car died, so I went out to inspect it. The battery had died. That was odd, I replaced it yesterday. I saw a car coming down the road, so I flagged it down. “Hey! Pull over, I need some help!”. Instead of pulling over, it sped up. Right before it hit me, I saw the inside of it. Empty. ", "I told Alyssa that I wasn't interested, mostly because she was always texting when she was in her lowest of moods, and I didn't feel like playing caregiver when she was the one who should grow up. So I spent the night in solitude, poured myself a glass or two of wine, before realizing, hey, I'm free to do whatever I want, and started taking a few swigs out of the bottle while I watched a movie or two, and I fell asleep with my face burried in between the couch cushions after throwing up a bit in my bathroom, which I think was due to food poisoning of some kind.\n\nThat was when I had the dream. I was in a shopping mall, one that I recognize, actually, because it's somewhere Alyssa and I used to go to when she was in one of her moods, and I'm looking at this necklace in a display case, one with a big, shiny diamond in the middle, one that you could never actually put on because it would make everything else you wore look cheap. And this necklace is kind of drawing me towards it, and my face gets closer and closer to the glass, and I can see the outline of my face, and Im not me, I am Alyssa, and I feel suddenly cold, because there is the sound of fireworks behind me and people screaming. I can't register all of the things I'm hearing, because all I can think of is fireworks, and this shiny diamond necklace, and the broken glass all around it, which also looks like diamonds, getting closer to my face. I lift my hands to steady myself because I realize I am falling, and my hands are covered in red ink, spilling down my arms and out of my mouth, and the diamond gets bigger and bigger until it swallows me up. \n\nI woke up and vomit blood onto the carpet, suddenly feeling dizzy until I realized it was just red wine because I had a glass or two the night before. I did a very basic cleanup with some vinegar and baking soda, hoping that would suffice until I felt a bit better, I picked up the wine bottle and rinsed it in the sink, trying to remember how much was in it yesterday, rinsed my mouth, which tasted like ass, and then went to my room, drawing the shades and crawling under the duvet. \n\nI spent the whole morning in bed with a splitting headache, but I did manage to get in to work without calling in sick, and when I clocked in my manager, Tyler, asked me if I had watched the news that morning, which I replied no, obviously, as I had a migrane and almost called in sick. \n\nHe then made a snide comment about my \"hangover\", which I now forget, but which irked me at the time, and then proceeded to tell me that the night before, there was a shooting.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nNot finished.. . .", " \n\n\"Well, at least it moved,\" Julio shrugged at the tiny digital clock. The bright red '22' displayed on its face was different from yesterday's 23. He grabbed his phone to check the time and realized he was running late for work. The panic pushed his nightmare to the back of his mind and it did not resurface until lunch time. \nHe sat in a quaint employee break-room with an action movie playing on the TV. Julio ignored the movie to focus on his meal: cold fried chicken with a side of potato salad. Gunfire erupted from the TV and Julio nearly jumped out of his seat at the sound. He managed to hope for a split second that nobody saw him; but, that hope was crushed by a familiar giggle behind him. \n\"It's just a movie, Julio. It's not real,\" she said between the laughter. A short, plump woman with long neon red hair sat down at the table next to him with her own lunch bag. \n\"Hey, Mundo,\" Julio smiled at the woman. \"It wasn't the TV,\" he shrugged. \"I remembered a hell of a dream from last night. Someone gunned me down and it felt way too real,\" he explained. \"I guess it stuck with me more than I knew.\" Mundo listened while unpacking her sandwich with purple jelly dripping out the sides, and chips. \n\"Maybe it was,\" she smiled at him then took a large bite. \n\"Nah. No way they'd let you into heaven,\" he smiled at her. She shrugged as she swallowed the bite of food. \n\"Meh, it got boring so I left,\" she said. Julio gave her a confused look, but she winked at him and continued. \"But, what I meant was maybe it really did happen to a version of you. You know how alternate universes are a thing, right?\" Julio leaned over and lowered his voice to a near whisper. \n\"Are you high right now?\" \n\"Oh shit, is it obvious?\" Mundo opened her pink eyes wide, then squeezed them shut several times. \"Are my eyes red? I used eye drops and everything.\" Julio burst into laughter. \n\"Hah! I knew it,\" he shook his head. \"Well, if the only side effect is you making up some pretty crazy things, it's not a big deal,\" he smiled at her. \n\"Oh, no. Everything I said was real, I just happen to also be high right now,\" she shrugged. \"They're unrelated.\" \n\"Right,\" Julio nodded. \"See ya Monday, Mundo.\" He waved at her, then made his way back to work. The rest of the day passed uneventfully and Julio glanced at the red '22' as he climbed in bed. That night he dreamed of his death again. This time he was decapitated instead of shot. He sat up in bed and realized he woke himself up with his own screaming. He glanced at the nightstand as his breathing recovered. A bright red '21' glowed in the dark. \n\"Goddamnit,\" Julio rolled his eyes and sighed. He reached for his phone and glanced at the time while he searched through his contacts. 2:04 a.m. He found Mundo's number and dialed. \n\"If this is a booty call I expect breakfast in the morning,\" she answered on the first ring. \"A good breakfast, not just a biscuit sandwich.\" \n\"It's not. Wait, are you awake?\" Julio asked. \n\"Yeah, I don't need much sleep. What's up?\" she asked. \n\"I had the dream again,\" he said. He felt silly calling her with only that in mind, but she was one of his closer acquaintances from the office. Somehow the dream felt more real this time. He subconsciously rubbed his neck while he talked. \n\"Oh? Good, then you've got nothing to worry about. Assuming it was an alternate you getting killed, there'd be differences, no matter how minor. If you dreamed the same thing twice, then it's just a dream.\" \n\"About that. When I said, 'I had the dream again,' I meant I had another dream where I died. But, this time I got decapitated, not shot.\" \n\"Uh oh.\" \n\"Uh oh what?\" \n\"Nothing. I'll be over in a bit. In the meantime here are some questions I want you to answer for me when I get there. When did the dreams start, and does that coincide with anything else changing in your life? Bye,\" she hung up. Julio set the phone down and stared at the red '21'. \n\"Well, that was easy,\" he chuckled to himself, then went to get dressed. 15 minutes later he let Mundo in. She'd been there a handful of times before and made herself at home on his couch. \n\"So? Any ideas about what's different?\" Julio nodded. \n\"Yeah I bought a clock at a pawn shop a couple of days ago, that first night is when the dreams started.\" She looked around the living room. \n\"Where?\" Julio tilted his head toward the bedroom. \n\"And you couldn't have brought it out here?\" She sighed as she stood from the couch. Julio shrugged. \n\"Didn't think about it.\" He followed Mundo into the bedroom, but she stopped at the threshold. He bumped into her from behind. She backed out into him and closed the bedroom door. \n\"Yeah, that's your problem. We need to get rid of it. Did I see a 21 on it?\" Julio nodded. \n\"Yeah, it had a 23 when I bought it. After the first dream, it changed to 22, then tonight to 21.\" Mundo walked to the kitchen and pulled a bottle out of Julio's freezer. \n\"I hope you appreciate what I'm about to do for you,\" she said, then took a deep swig from the bottle. \n\"Sure, I guess finishing my vodka is kind of a favor.\" She smiled. \n\"No, idiot. I'm about to call in a favor I never planned to cash in,\" she reached into her pocket and pulled out a shiny, black business card. \n\"Wait. Do you know what's going on?\" Mundo nodded. \n\"Yeah. Short version, that thing's kind of like a lure. Once you have it, it sends out a signal to let you know you found it. Not you you, an alternate you.\" Mundo threw the black card against a wall in Julio's kitchen. It grew into a tall, oval-shaped pitch black portal. \"ANGEL!\" She yelled into the hole, then she looked at Julio. \"Seriously. You owe me big time.\" \n\"Man, I always knew I had crappy luck...\" Julio complained. Mundo shook her head. \n\"No, that was meant for you specifically.\" \n\"C'mon. There's no way to guarantee I'd buy it.\" Mundo turned to the hole and yelled again. \n\"ANGEL!\" This time a deep male voice replied from the abyss on the wall. \n\"WAIT A SECOND!\" Mundo rolled her eyes, then looked at Julio. \n\"Actually, yeah. That's how it works, you're compelled to buy it.\" Mundo reached into her pocket again and pulled out a stick of gum. She unwrapped the flat strip, threw the gum in the trash, and held out the wrapper to Julio. \"Wanna buy this for a dollar?\" she asked. Julio scoffed. \n\"No. I'd rather keep the dollar, thanks.\" Mundo nodded. \n\"But you'd rather have a broken 'clock'...,\" she used air quotes. \"...that only shows one number, than whatever you spent on it, right?\" Julio's eyes narrowed. \n\"Point taken.\" Mundo turned to hole in the wall. \n\"Damnit, he's already making me regret this. ANGEL! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!\" A pitch black card flew out of the hole and landed in front of Mundo. \n\"Tomorrow, probably.\" The disembodied voice said, then the black portal disappeared. \n\"Well shit,\" Mundo chuckled. \"It's a good thing you've got 21 days left. This might take a few.\"\n\n\\\\\\*\n\n Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #329. You can find them collected on my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order. ", "It read twenty-one. I couldn’t believe it. It went back exactly 1 hour in time. The number decreased. What did it mean, the number of times I’ll die? No way. I laughed at the thought. Just a bad dream and a coincidence, I told myself.\n\nI hopped out of bread, hoping to make myself some coffee and forget the experience altogether. I still had to go to work today, after all. It was just a coincidence, and we’ll leave it at that.\n\nThe day was beautiful. There was nothing abnormal. Nothing abnormal, I told myself as I walked down stories and stories of stairs. But the thought remained at the back of my mind. What if? I reached the ground floor and walked out of the apartment complex. Nothing wrong. I took a deep breath. Nothing wrong. But my eyes still darted around as if they were possessed. I followed every car on the street religiously, as if one of them would magically swerve, only to hit me. I continued walking.\n\nI looked left and looked right. No cars. I sighed in relief, and start crossing. My phone rings. A call from my boss. “Hello?”\n\nDistracted, I notice the car too late.\n\n“This damn-”\n\n---\n\nI wake up for the second time today.\n\n“-clock, ” I finish. I stare at it. \n\nTwenty-one.\n\nThat just confirmed it. This damn clock is the source of everything so far. I should have never bought it. I kicked it off the nightstand, the clock hitting the wall and chipping off the painting on the wall. It remained perfectly intact. That hurt my foot, too. But the pain was the last thing I was concerned about at this point. I picked it up and hurled it out of the window, breaking the once pristine glass. Whatever, I’ll listen to the landlord’s complaints later. \n\nWhat did I ever do to deserve this, in the first place? I mean, the clock wasn’t even that cheap in the first place. I shook myself out of these thoughts. It was gone now. Gone, out of my life. I took a deep breath and walked towards the kitchen for my morning coffee.\n\nThe ground immediately started rumbling. Great timing.\n\nI was going to survive this, I told myself. I wasn’t going to let the box have its way anymore. “Table, table,“ I repeated. “Hide under a table.” I fell to my knees, unable to keep my balance anymore. I continued crawling - I had to find something to hide under. \n\nA chunk of debris fell on my right foot, pinning me, and I cried out in pain. I looked back and realised - it was the same foot I kicked the clock with earlier.\n\n“Damn clock.”\n\nThe ceiling collapsed, and I woke up for the third time today.\n\n---\n\nThe clock was back on the nightstand. Twenty.\n\nI'll continue writing tomorrow, i guess", "“What about that big clock over there, standing behind the counter?”, I ask Mr. Schwarzerwald, the elderly owner of the pawn shop. He had just finished telling the story about this old pair of shades he held, which supposedly belonged to Ray Charles himself, and had come to his possession through Charles’ former neighbor, who kept it after his death. An original piece, and a bargain. At least that’s what I thought he said, from the little I’d actually heard. He seemed truly excited to share his tale, but the whole time during his narrative, I simply couldn’t get myself to look away from that strange, yet somehow mesmerizing, wooden clock. It was almost six feet tall, large as a wardrobe, carved in what looked like oak, very well preserved, and richly decorated with numbers and a few details of gold and some precious stones meticulously distributed over it’s surface. It wasn’t just the artistic aesthetics of it that caught my attention, but I really wasn’t sure of what else marveled me about it. It looked... powerful. Ancient, though not old, and way to powerful for a decorated piece of wood. I felt like it was somehow calling for me, and nothing else in the world mattered.\n\n“One can tell you have a fine eye for art, Mr. Piazzo. Yes, that is a little something I’ve been carrying with me for a long while now. For some reason, nobody had never shown any interest in it so far, though it is my favorite piece in the whole store. Pawn shops are the family business, and before I opened my own here in Riverrock, my father worked in his, back in Germany, and his father before that, and his father earlier on, so long as the stories have registered. And in all of those pawn shops, that very clock had his place. So long, that some old folk tales had time to gather around it, but you wouldn’t be interested in such nonsense...” That came to me as a shock. Mr. Schwarzerwald was clearly old enough to be my grandfather, so that would mean this clock to be around two hundred years old. At least. I couldn’t imagine he still expected to sell it. “Why have you kept it in the store all this time, sir? I mean, if it has become a family relic, you might want to put it away. Do you think you may still sell it?”, I asked, hesitantly. “Well, one never knows. It is no relic, of that you can be sure. Maybe it has just been waiting for the right buyer to show up...”, he answered, in a somewhat reflexive tone. “That’s trully a long wait. Hehe. But... why are the pointers not moving? How does it work?” I pointed at the long golden lines set to show the hours, minutes and seconds, all together pointing at the number twelve. “It never has.” For some reason, I felt a chill down my spine as he spoke those words. “I have always assumed it was made for the sole purpose of decorating wherever he stood, with such amazing beauty.”, he continued.\n\nSo we have this beautiful big-ass clock that never worked, older than my whole town, on this pawnshop owner family’s for generations, and he has kept it simply to wait for the right buyer? Something is just wrong with this story. Something doesn’t add up. For some reason, I feel it would be best to thank him for his time and reception, pick up my stuff, leave right away, head home and spend the rest of my evening with a bucket of ice cream on my lap while watching my favorite series. That was a good was to end a weekend. Yet... it was such an amazing clock. I had never before felt so hypnotized for a piece of furniture that didn’t even work. I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to ask... right? “How much for it?”\n\n”For such a fine work of wood, decoration, and I would say history, it is yours for... five dollars”, he replied. “I-I’m sorry... What was that?” I asked, in absolute disbelief. “Five dollars, I say, and you can take it with you!” Could I trust what I was hearing? No way. No, that had to be a prank of some sort. Either that, or the clock was actually a piece of painted cardboard and I couldn’t see it from where I was standing. “Five? Five dollars? Like this?” I say as I pull a five out of my wallet. English is not my first language, so maybe I had gotten something wrong from all of that. “That is correct.”, he affirmed, with a gentle smile on his face. I approach the clock and touch it’s surface. No, not cardboard. My decision was made. No further questions asked. I felt it deep in my soul I simply had to take it with me. Such a magnificent work, even if only for decoration, for five dollars? I wasn’t able to understand WHY on earth would that strange old man do such thing, if not out of pure madness, but he had such a reassuring gaze on his face that it became clear to me he was sure of his actions. I left the store with the clock on the back of my truck, turned my head to thank Mr. Schwarzerwald once more from the door, but he was vanished inside the back of the store. From there, I went home.\n\nUpon arriving, I positioned my new acquisition on the corner of my living room and spent around twenty minutes looking at it. I then looked at an actual working clock I had and noticed how late it was. I hadn’t noticed it, and needed to wake up early in the next morning to go to work, so I went to take a shower, called my girlfriend for a few minutes, told her my little adventure to the new pawnshop and what I got from it, to which she only laughed and called the owner crazy, and, after that, straight to bed. I fell asleep still thinking of the weird encounter with that very odd old fella, his smile hovering over my thoughts, covering anything else I tried to think of, as I felt my whole body relax, and my mind drift away.\n\nI wake up with a loud noise of glass shattering. Still only half-awake, my first reflex is looking to the tiny alarm clock on my bedside. Three a.m. A low, strong “thud” follows the first noise, and gets me to sit on my bed. I live alone and have no pets, which would already be enough sign that something was wrong, even if I didn’t live in a, let’s say, unwelcoming neighborhood. I pick up the bat I leave by my bed, and as soon as I get downstairs, I see him. Your typical everyday burglar, with a black hood on his face and my small tv on his hand. I was honestly not that surprised. What I hadn’t seen, and ended up being an unpleasant surprise, was his pal walking behind me. It all happened very fast. I yell at the one I see, trying to scare him off, then hear a deafening explosion that seem to come from every direction. Pain. A lot of it. Yelling. Also a lot of it. “ARE YOU CRAZY? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I start to loose my senses. I feel my body falling to the ground. My face hits the cold wooden flor. “THERE’S NO TIME FOR THIS, PICK UP WHAT YOU CAN AND LET’S GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HERE!” I feel a wet warmth coming from my chest and spreading all around me. “YOU ARE CRAZY, MAN, THIS IS CRAZY”. It all starts to fade. The light. The noise. Before I’m fully out, one last thing catches my attention. A strong bell sound. A single hit, as you would expect to hear coming from an old clock.\n\n...\n\nI hear birds chirping somewhere not far away. I feel softness around me. I try opening my eyes. The softness comes from my bed sheets and pillow, and sun light is coming from the window. Is this.. yes, it is my room. Was it all just a dream? I can’t remember much from it. Going downstairs, a human shade, noise, pain... Silence. Never ending silence. Was there... something more? A different sound... I’m not sure. A dream. Must have been. I try getting up and everything looks in place. After that, disregarding all that stuff as truly a dream, I check my alarm clock and notice that I’m late for work. Again. The boss was going to eat me alive, as I had promised it would be the last time I ever arrived late. Again. I rushed downstairs to get my cup of coffee before getting ready to leave, and instantly noticed something strange. Strange may not be the word, for it was more of a disturbing view. The glass window was broken, my tv and a few other utensils are missing from the living room, and to top it off, there’s a big pool of dried blood in the floor. I froze where I stood. What was all of that? What did that mean? Was I going completely mad? There... Simply HAD to be an explanation for all of that. Then a chill goes down my neck. I instinctively looked at the corner of my living room. There stood my new clock, untouched by the assailants. Except it was not exactly as I left it the night before. Something was wrong. After a while, I suddenly noticed. The pointers, which I were told had stayed on the same place for a few decades, had moved. They pointed to eleven.", "I bought the clock because it seemed to speak to me. I felt like I saw it somewhere before, but, I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was the feeling you got when trying to remember being a baby. It was strange, but I’ve always loved tall grandfather clocks. \n\nConsidering the condition of the clock in the hole in the wall pawnshop I had visited. I wasn’t too surprised by the price of the clock. While normally I never counted myself as the type to refurbish, I suppose I saw the gem that it could be underneath the dusty grime and broken parts. \n\nSo just as easily as I had spotted the clock in the corner I fished around in my wallet for a five dollar bill. I got an impatient look from the shopkeeper as I realized I forgot to get money from an atm. A small panic began rising in my gut both from embarrassment and this undeniable need to have that clock.\n\n“We don’t take cards.” The old man behind the counter sneered gruffly as I meekly held up my debt card in my hand. Feeling dejected I slowly put the card alway getting ready to call it quits on buying the clock. Just before the thought had finished crossing my mind, a five dollar bill fell from my jacket sleeve onto the counter. \n\nMy mouth hung agape as the man paid no mind to the strange event of money literally being up my sleeve. I looked up at him confused as he grabbed the five and rang me up for the clock. \n\n“You still want it right?” He questioned in his low tone, he was one of those men with a voice so low you can feel it in your chest. He faintly reminded me of some older male relatives I had met in passing growing up. “Yeah.” I spoke slowly, almost choking on my own spit. He gave me a weird look that I couldn’t read and mumbled something under his breath about my age. \n\nI hardly paid any mind as my eyes went back to the clock in the corner. I narrowed my eyes trying to remember if it had always been facing towards the cash register. I brushed it off knowing how faulty my memory was and started to think of ways of restoring this clock. \n\nWith a little bit of doing, I got the heavy clock back to my apartment, it was then I was reminded as to why I paid an extra thousand a month for a pre-furnished apartment. I hated carrying heavy furniture up steps. But after a few hours and almost dying two times I got it into my apartment. I moved it into a position that I thought suited it and sighed. \n\nI was tired and my back ached I spared another glance at the clock among my modernistic furniture. I would figure out how to get it to match later. For now food, a good shower, and my bed was calling my name. \n\nThat night I passed out as soon as I hit the sheets. My bed was comfortable as ever and my blankets were freshly washed and warm. I had assumed that night I was going to have some restful sleep. \n\nI was wrong. \n\nAs soon as I closed my eyes I found myself in a speakeasy, second hand smoke filled my lungs and the burning sensation of scotch was on my tongue. I sat down the shot glass onto the top of a grand piano, my eyes scanned the crowd to find the lustful eyes of multiple women gazing upon me hungrily, I felt my heart in my throat as their husbands narrowed their eyes at me. \n\nI let out a nervous chuckle underneath my breath and turned to play. The music that filled the air was bouncy yet somber. I felt myself relax as I began to sing some ditty that I knew by heart. \n\nAfter the show I received several bouquets of flowers in my dressing room with letters soaked in perfume and sealed with kisses. Inside the letters begged me to come visit them so they could feel the ‘touch of an artist’ once more. \n\nI grimaced feeling disgusted and disappointed with the lack of creativity in these letters and the fact that these women felt the need to use me as a tool to enrage their husbands. \n\nLeaving both the letters and flowers behind, but swiping some treats from the gift baskets, I headed out the back door into the alleyway to head home. \n\nBut just as I stepped out I was stopped by the sight of a woman standing there with a pistol I her hand and tears leaking from her eyes and mascara. \n\n“You threw alway my flowers.” She spoke with her voice shaking, she had caught me mid bite into and apple from one of the gift baskets. She had became enraged at the sight, “You eat that bitch’s apples but don’t take my flowers!” She screeched, “Barbie... Please we talked about this, you need to work things out with your husband.” I chided trying to remain calm as she pointed the gun at me shaking with rage. \n\n“I left him for you! I thought we were meant to be! But you... You! I know what you are!” She screamed as my eyes widened. “You’re a sick freak who wants a man more than a woman!” She said as I tried to quiet her down. The last thing I needed was the rest of the town hearing about me and Big Tony. That would ruin him and have my head on a chopping block. \n\n“Barbie it isn’t like that! Tony’s an old pal of mine! We go way back!” I insisted, I was panicking so much about Barbie blabbing about me and Tony I forgot about the gun in her hand. \n\nShe sneered “far enough to get on your knees for him?!” She snapped as she let out at shot at my feet. I jumped and she looked stunned just as the boys heard the sound inside. I panicked and took off Barbie not two steps behind me begging me to come back. \n\n“You tried to shoot me!” I yelled running before feeling a snap in my brain and then nothing. \n\nI snapped up in my bed sweating as a heard a bell chime. I looked over at my digital clock to see that it was three am in the morning. I got up wondering where the chiming was coming from and stopped in my living room. \n\nThat clock was in the middle of my living room and I stood there and watched as the 23 that had been placed where the 12 should’ve been turned into a 22. \n\n(That’s it for now, sorry for the formatting, spelling, or grammatical errors I’m on mobile and it’s hard to account for that. )", "I felt sore after I woke, my head feels like it's being torn in two, my hands still warm from the fire, but I'm in my bed. \"I shouldn't be, should I?\" I thought.\n\nI looked around, I was still 25 in my darkroom in the same old apartment building with the same smell of fish that my Asian neighbors swore by. It was still dark so I figured I still had time to finish my project before class tomorrow morning but to be on the safe side I checked the clock. I reached for my alarm clock but grabbed the old boxed in flip clock that I bought the other day.\n\nI was just about ready to toss it to the side but the numbers caught my eye, 22:00. The clock had turned backwards by one hour, it didn't seem right, I mean time count up not down. I didn't dig too deeply into it so I set the clock aside and check the one working timepiece in my room, afterward I went back to sleep.\n\nNext day once I finished my last class I decided to take the same road through the rougher side of town. The sky was blue and the birds sang but there weren't many people around other than the occasional straggler. As I continued my commute home I walked past the old store that the old bearded man ran for the past few months but it was covered in old caution take and rotten wood was collapsed where the entrance once stood. It looked like it did before the old man moved in with his pawn shop.\n\n I walked over to investigate.\n\n The old wood didn't seem too interesting and it didn't seem as if anyone was trapped inside. The caution tape was very pale,like it had been out here for a month or two being backed by the sun. There seemed to be nothing inside from what I could see through the cracks. It was very much so out of the ordinary. I didn't think I was going to find anymore answers standing around, starting at the wreck. \n\nI continued on my way home debating weather I should look more into the matter or hurry home to my delicious instant noodles. Since there was an internet cafe on the way home I went ahead and stopped by to look at little more into the business that once stood where the wreck now was. Typing the name of the shop I hit the search button and scrolled down the page. Nothing. There was something though, after scrolling for just under a minute I found a link that mentioned shop that appeared and disappeared over a very short period of time. The link was full of stories that you'd expect to find on a forum of this sort. Most stories sounded the same and I was getting bored but one stood out. I gave it a read. It read about a girl who had bought a box from old man at an old pawnshop . The story was along the lines of the Pandora's box, the girl being told to never open it but did either way, good and evil being let out but as the story ended it read that \"although not all of the evil was swallowed up, the worst of it was hidden and locked away with the power of a magical box.\" The end read a P.S., \"The box finds it's own pawns, it tests us, but has never won\". Then suddenly a train rode by with the horn blaring as loud as ever making me jump out of my seat. I don't think I drew too much attention to my self but before anyone else had a chance to look over I walked over to the counter, left a large bill, and continued on my way home. \n\nWhen I got home I sat at the foot of my bed with the old clock in my hands, fumbling with it in my fingers. I came to the conclusion that I was just paranoid and I didn't need more stress in my life. I took the box, made my way over to the window, and tossed it as hard as I could. It landed into the waterway beside my building. Good riddance. I went ahead and went to bed.\n\nI woke up again with a nightmare just as real as the one from the previous night. This time I was a knight on an old bridge fighting valiantly but an arrow came flying into my throat. I could barely breath. I rushed to the bathroom mirror to examine myself but once again I was fine. What the hell was going on? I went to check the time but I noticed something else on my desk. It was the box, it now read 21." ]	10
	[WP] From birth, you realized that you could live two lives at once by sleeping to enter the other. In one of your lives, you are a serial killer who is sentenced to death. You are unsure what happens next.	[ "They pushed me inside the cell and shut the door behind me. Alone. Finally I could at last let loose all my anger. I didn't know what to do? I kicked my cot. Punched the walls. And finally a muffled yell drained all my energy.\n\nThen all I could do was cry. \"Why is this happening to me?\", I thought. Tears rolling down my face, I thought of all those curses yelled at me outside the court. \n\nSADIST. PSYCHOPATH. CHILD MURDERER. THE DEVIL.\n\nI didn't kill those 13 children. I didn't kill my little sister. I didn't. He did. \n\nMy eyes dried up. As I sat down, I decided I wanted answers. From him. The one who did all those murders. \n\nFrom when I was a child, I had experienced blackouts. But It didn't matter. Nothing happened during those blackouts. I thought It may be narcolepsy. But It wasn't. Maybe a side effect of insomnia. Maybe. My parents were worried that I couldn't remember what happened for some 5 to 7 hours sometimes. I remembered only one thing. I had always fell asleep before the blackout. I thought I was sleeping. Bu I wasn't according to others around me. \n\nNo treatment worked. Then the accident. My parents' death. My sister and me were separated. We grew up separately in hostels. Only after I finished my schooling and get a job that I was able to live with my sister. That was only two years ago. Everything I dreamt. Everything she dreamt. Everything gone, because of him.\n\nBeneath my cot, I saw a stone. I took it and used it to write on the wall.\n\n\"PLEASE TELL ME. WHY DID U DO THIS TO ME?\"\nI hoped he would reply. Then I lied on my cot. Soon I fell asleep.\n\nI woke up. My head ached. This happens typically after the blackout. I got up from my cot instantly to see if I got a reply from him. Looking at the wall, I felt even more stung. Only then I realised the throbbing in my left forefinger. It was reddish from a cut at the end of the finger. \n\nOn the wall, written with my blood: \"CURIOUS\".\n\nMy finger was still bleeding. I sucked my finger. Then tore a piece of cloth from my bedsheet and wound around it. I sat on my cot. \"Patience. You've got six more months. Make it worth.\", I thought to myself.\n\n---------\nTO BE CONTINUED.....", "(Sorry for any typos or formatting issues, im on mobile)\n\nMy eyes are getting heavy, ive been trying to stay awake as long as I can, its been 3 days, a lot of coffee and constant activity but I know deep down its a losing battle.\nNobody can stay awake for ever, I began researching it days ago before I came to accept my fate, well, my alternate fate I guess.\n\nIt was fun as a kid, I would dream of another boy, he was so happy, his mother loved him and he spent his days playing at the park with his dog, just 2 best friends running and rolling in the grass.\nAt first I thought everyone was like this, their dreams were the heaven they really wanted, instead of the miserable life here, the cold city, dark concrete, rain and stink covering every surface.\nIt wasnt till one fateful day when I lost my job, my car was stolen and my gf left me, I slept that night, hoping for the innocence to take me away from this misery.\n\nThe happy boy had grown in my dreams with me, he was now a bright young man with a promising future, but somehow the anger and sadness of my life filtered through that night.\nBefore I knew it, I was dreaming of a lovely walk through the park with my dog when someone pushed me, the leash slipping from my grip as the dog bolted after a squirrel.\nI heard the squeal of tyres, the heavy thump and I knew without looking I just lost a very good friend. \n\nI couldn't help it, the rage grew uncontrollably as I grabbed the guy who pushed me, slamming him to the ground and beating him senseless. Once I realised what I was doing, I stopped, stood and ran, the shock and trauma woke me from my dreams, back to my miserable grey apartment.\nBut there was something that lingered, a feeling, a way to vent this misery into my dreamworld, harmless and separated from this real life I live. \n\nFrom then on, the feeling grew stronger and stronger as I dreamt of hunting people, hurting them and killing them, the rage inside me spilling litres of blood in my dreams.\nI knew my dreams felt real and always seemed to have a constant story to them, so I planned my murders carefully, researching what I needed to know in my waking world, my life improved as I gained a sort of calm zen while awake, but grew more deadly and infamous in my dreamworld.\n\nThe dream newspapers called me the ice town hunter, not sure where they got the name but it didnt really matter.\nBefore long the dream police were closing in on me, eventually catching me unaware while stalking a target.\nThe usual process followed, custody, court, sentencing.\nIt was actually quite fascinating to experience this whole dream world while living a totally mundane waking life.\n\nThe dream judge sentenced me to the death penalty, I suppose with a known kill count of over 300 it was probably fair, there was at least 3 times that many they didnt know of.\n\nEach night as I slept, I found myself in my dream cell, the hard bench seeming more and more real. As the boredom set in I found myself sleeping less and less, staying up later and waking earlier.\n\n7 months in a new prisoner ended up in the cell next to me, the first few nights he was quiet, always watching me carefully and suspiciously.\nA week in and he speaks to me, the first words I had ever heard from his mouth,\n\n\"Your a very strange one aren't you, for a few hours a day you seem normal, but for the rest of the day you just lay there comatose on your bunk. Your not really here are you?\"\n\nI didn't see the harm in talking to my dream cell mate about my real life.\nHe was very intelligent, on the row for his part in a group of men that gang raped some child, but other than that heinous crime you'd never pick him as a monster.\nWe spoke in lengh about all things, I began to sleep longer as the conversations became more stimulating. A week before my execution date he asks me how I know which world is real, suggesting that its actually my miserable apartment that is the dream, I know deep down its just my subconscious talking in my dreams, but what he said really rattled me.\nWhat if it is real, what if I really die, what happens to me in the real world?\n\nIt was enough to make me not want to sleep at all, so here I am, struggling to stay awake, scrolling through reddit laying on the couch. Its a losing battle as my eyelids grow ever heavy, dragging down uncontrollably over my eyes.\n\nSuddenly im dreaming, I can't move, my arms and legs are strapped, my eyes spring open as I force against my restraints, my vision focusing on the wall in front of me, with a large window in the middle, and solemn faces on the other side, my head twists to the side, there is a guard standing next to me with a bucket of water and a black hood.\n\nHe seems surprised at my suddent activity,\n\"Ahhh, welcome back to the land of the living, at least for a moment. You should be awake for this, especially after what you have done.\"\n\nThe guard places the hood over my head and straps my head to the chair. I feel water soaking over my skull, a heavy helmet placed on top and strapped tightly under my chin.\nI feel the buzzing as the switch is thrown and the electricity courses through my body, feeling like im on fire all over.\n\nWith an instant my eyes snap open, drool running from the corner of my lip, my phone laying on the floor besides me, my crappy couch under my sore bones.\nWell, I guess you can die in your dreams.\n\n\n\n....................\n\n\n\nIts been 12 days and my mind is torturing me, I see things, flashes of light or shapes, noises, the ants are talking too loudly in the walls, why does that light buzz like that? its turned off.\nThe man in the tv tells me to do strange things then laughs like a maniac, I want to sleep but it eludes me, I drink to pass out but that heavenly feeling of slumber never comes, why does the neighbor have 2 heads? I dont remember that from before.\nI know what I must do to sleep, its easy, I just have to remove my eyes, cant stay awake if you cant see haha, where is that knife?\nAhhh, here it is, soon my precious, we will sleep again and never wake...." ]	2
	[WP] You run a unique Insane Asylum. Every single patient in your facility is completely sane, you are paid by those who can afford it to keep these people locked up. Today is visitors day.	[ "Once a week. Once a week a talk with the doctor. \n\nOne chance once a week, to convince them I don’t belong here. I got through to them. Finally. Last month they cut back on the drugs. Started giving me proper food. \n\nSlowly. Thoughts return. Talks with the doctor improve.\n\nSlowly. A plan hatched.\n\nThe few drugs they give me… No longer take them. Hid them in my room. Waited for an opportunity… Visitors day. \n\nCan’t remember the last time someone visited me. \n\nToday. Visitors day.\n\nThey left me and others in the mess. Balloons. So many balloons. So many vibrant colors. Almost as if I’m back on the prescribed acid. It gave me a headache. Must focus.\n\nThe mess’ door to the garden is open. The warden is chatting with a nurse. This is it. \n\nGet up.\n\nRun.\n\nRun.\n\nFaster!\n\nRun!\n\nMy legs are no longer what they used to be. Five years. Five years of sedatives. Five years of psycho drugs. Five years of force feeding. Or was it three? Or ten? I think it’s five years.\n\nMust catch a breath. The cold… it burns…\n\nThe fence is nowhere in sight. \n\nA sharp whistle drills in my skull. Bloody headache! My arms twitch. The cold still burns. They found out I’m gone. I must go. Freedom.\n\nRun.\n\nRun.\n\nFaster!\n\nRun!\n\n“Raaaaaaaaaah!” A sharp sting in my leg. My face buries itself in the autumn leaves. Get up. GET UP! \n\nMy leg. It stings. It gets numb. I reach down. What’s this? A dart?\n\nI pull it free and roll over. My leg. I can’t move it anymore. A tree. The roots. Must continue. I pull myself forward.\n\n“Nice shot Mr. Edwards! Just a few more minutes and she will be out.”\n\nThe doctor’s voice. Talking to my husband?\n\n“I must say, Dr. Jones, I was a bit skeptical when you invited me for visitor’s day. I never wanted to see this bitch again. Dumping her here was far cheaper than a divorce. And you were right, more humane than a contract killer. But this, getting to shoot her, was a nice surprise!”\n\nSo that’s how I ended up here. Bastard. Gave you the best years of my life. Loved you. Still do. Why?\n\n“What can I say Mr. Edwards? We like to go an extra mile for our most valued customers. Look, the tranquilizer is kicking in. The tear canal is so relaxed she starts crying. I’ll have her brought back inside now.”\n\nBastard. Maybe I’ll have some use for those pills in my room. \n\nNo. Can’t let him win. \n\nMust fight. \n\nNew plan. \n\nMust find a way…", "Ah, Canterbury Asylum. The finest in mental healthcare worldwide, or so the world was told. I was forcefully locked in two years ago under the premise of a previously unheard of mental disorder by some little caring relatives of mine that seemed to never question all the oddities that were involved in the process that all new interns underwent. \n\nTime flied in the isolation cells, and I was as surprised as anyone would be when the proposal came, a meager 6 months after my imprisonment began. After being told by the hospital's staff that \"bad luck\" had left me devoid of any family because of a car crash, I was offered a place as the new director of the facility. My freshly-corrupted, paranoid psyche felt that it couldn't be true, that it had to be a test of some sort, and I ultimately accepted out of pure fear. Having a productive job would help me reincorporate into society faster, according to the psychiatrists.\n\nThe following twenty months went by unremarkably, as the director of Canterbury did nothing more than greet the families that joyfully took their members to their demise. But something felt wrong. I knew for sure that no disorder was haunting me when I entered the diabolic place. And I had an awfully strong gut feeling that there was something really wrong with the hospital. Not even once did I see any patient that showed symptoms that would make them appropriate for a facility like this. Apart from that, short fragments of conversations I heard about some mysterious payments that little had to do with state aids and both my own and the interns' rapidly deteriorating mental states fueled my fears. Paired with my growing psychosis and paranoia, I knew that I was about to reach a breaking point.\n\nAnd, indeed, the breaking point came, as our first Visitors day in over five years. Businesspeople in expensive suits with guilt filling their faces flocked to the hospital gates, in hope of earning a partial redemption over the horrible sin commited against their own blood. The patio was overflowing, and the sound of moans of pain, madness and happiness filled the air.\n\nSoon enough, chaos emerged. The most violent amongst the patients started fighting against their demons and those who locked them up, and in no time any form of organization was lost. One of those outraging interns decided it would be good to attack me and suddenly, all my tensions and fears got unleashed.\n\nIt was a fight between madmen. We both broke more than a few ribs and lost more than a few teeth. As an executive in the hospital, I was better fed and in considerably better shape. I fought for minutes that stretched like hours, and was firing blow after blow to the now unconscious, barely alive man lying on the floor when security finally came around. \n\nThe bright, yellowish glare of my old cell brought a feeling of nostalgia to me, and I happily started wandering around the less than spacious cubicle, giggling and telling to myself I would be okay. That straitjacket had never been so comfortable." ]	2
	[WP] “Seven, eight, nine, TEN! Ready or not, here I come!” But when you open your eyes, you’re in a different house.	[ "“Seven, Eight,” Billy continued counting with his hands cupped over his eyes. It was a bit of overkill as he stood with his forehead touching the smooth wallpaper of the living room. It felt cold against his warm skin.\n\nBut as most children do, Billy needed to take extra precautions during these games, for the yearning to peek is second only to the desire to count faster. No ten seconds in the human lifespan last as long as that span of time when a child counts out loud during a game of Hide and Seek— a disturbance in Einstein’s relativistic space-time, as if there didn’t need to be a grand unifying theory with quantum mechanics, but rather with children waiting to have fun.\n\n“Nine, ten!” Now was the moment. He was done with that awful counting. He could become the seeker! To make up for lost time, Billy opted to take out any extra spaces and gaps in his words, “ReadyornothereIcome!”\n\nTurning around, Billy found himself in a dismal copy of the room he’d been in earlier. The wallpaper, which had previously been white with flower patterns, had dulled to a mustard-yellow color. The flowers had faded to the point they were now ghosts that vanished unless you were looking right at them. The wallpaper had been ripped and curled back in several dozen places. The walls beyond the split wallpaper looked dark red and seemed to tremble and bulge.\n\nBilly, remembering that he’d had his forehead against the wall, scrubbed his forehead with his hand. It came back with a smear of red and a smell like metal and decay. Not knowing what to do, he ran for the door, shouting the first word that came to mind, “Help!”\n\nThe doorknob wouldn’t turn. Not because it was stuck, but because each time Billy reached for it his hand missed it by an inch or so. It was like the optical illusion one sees when sticking their hand in water, but it was happening in the air—in front of his eyes. No matter what angle he shot his hands out at, no matter what adjustments made, no matter how gentle or harsh he pushed... he continued to miss.\n\n“I’m sorry to have to do this to you.” A weary sounding voice called from behind Billy.\n\nBilly turned and saw a shadow standing in the middle of the room. It wasn’t a shadow. It was much darker, as if he were seeing negative or empty space. The figure of pure blackness was tall as Billy’s father, but its height was the only thing it seemed to have in common with humanity.\n\n“Please, don’t be frightened.” Even its voice was like a shadow of the real thing, as if every voice Billy had heard before had been composed of some mixture of musical notes, but this creature spoke only in sharps and flats. “This will not hurt, but it will not be pleasant either.”\n\nShaking, Billy turned and tried to run away, but found he’d already backed up against the wall. He only succeeded in smearing his face against the wet, red wall. Rot like an open sewer filled his nose. He tried to scream, but coughed and choked on the small bit of gore that he’d inhaled.\n\n“I can make this go by quickly, if only you would just cooperate.” The shadow thing indicated, with several floating arms, to the chair in the far corner of the room. “I will remove the destructive variant from you and send you back to your dimension. I understand that your kind feels something you call pain. I have taken precautions to minimize this.”\n\nEvery part of Billy trembled, but he found himself inching toward the chair. He didn’t trust the shadow monster, but he couldn’t find another way out of this nightmare. \n\nIf I do as the thing says, maybe I’ll wake up. Billy thought. He’d had scary dreams where the monster chased and chased. It was only when he the monster caught him did Billy wake up. Only when he was inches away from doom did the nightmare release him, that cruel catch-22.\n\n“What are you going to do to me?” Billy asked in a voice that was mostly a sob.\n\n“You will not remember anything. No one ever does. It’s the result of the procedure, so what would be the point in explaining?” \n\nWhen Billy stood his ground, the monster of negative space sighed, a human action that made Billy relax a little. \n\n“As I said, this will remove the destructive variant from your being. This,” The monster gestured to the vibrating and distending walls. “This is the result of unchecked tendencies in those with a consciousness level above forty-two…” The last word was little more than a buzzing in Billy’s ears.\n\n“This is my dimension. As you can see it has suffered terminal decay. The physical laws of its universe have been irrecoverably altered. All life in my dimension has become corrupted. Demented. For millennia I have taken your kind and fixed you. There are others.” The monster again gestured toward the chair.\n\nThe chair resembled the one in Billy’s living room with its dark wood and white padding. The armrests of this chair, however, had a thin layer of brown sludge that looked half dried. Billy looked back at the being of darkness, “Do I have to?”\n\nAs if growing impatient, the creature stomped with a sound like a canon blast. It began to take visible form. The darkness that shrouded it previously melted away. What Billy saw in the second before he passed out could best be described as a wall of exposed muscle fibers, teeth, and eyes of incorrect size and shape.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n“ReadyornothereIcome!” Billy shouted and turned around. His eyes scanned the living room. Couch, chairs, bookcase. No one had chosen to hide in here. He crossed the room toward the hallway, noticing a small tear in the wallpaper next to the wooden molding of doorframe. A heavy sense of déjà vu hit him, causing him to pause mid-step. \n\nHe frowned, but his discomfort was quickly forgotten as he heard a giggle coming from the nearby kitchen. Here comes the seeker!\n\n--------\n\n(46,806/50,000) of NaNoWriMo Short Story Goal\n" ]	1
	[WP] It's 2041. Earth is united under the UCE treaty of 2036. The United Countries of Earth has made great technological advancements under Elon Musk's Hegemony. Life has been discovered in a nearby Solar System. You are commander of Voyager 1, and have just arrived in the orbit of Ternum II.	[ "December 31st, 2041. 0600. \n\n\"Johannesburg, do you copy?\" I repeat loudly. There is a long pause, and the wave of panic that swept across my crew was palpable. Then we heard the welcoming sound of static before our command center responded. \n\n\"We copy you Commander, and it is good to hear your voice. What is your status?\" Her voice echos throughout the corridor, and we all cheer. \n\nIt had been a full day of trying to initiate our comm system. Traveling space is not what my father would have expected it to be. Being unconscious throughout the entire journey and waking up in an entirely different solar system is a pretty scary idea for most people. Even these brave souls that have accompanied me on this journey hold on to the idea of stepping foot back on Earth close to their hearts. The mission is the mission, though. That comes first. \n\n\"Yeah, Jo, it's nice to hear you too. Our status is green across the board. All systems are functional, and we have a visual on Ternum II. I can confirm the use of electricity on a massive scale. Technology may be more advanced than we'd expected. The source of light was not a nearby star, it was Ternum II itself.\" I do a good job hiding the concern I feel for this unexpected development. \n\nI was expecting we'd be observing a primitive species. Non-humanoid. Being able to sustain themselves on this planet without a nearby light or heat source means one of two things. Either their light source died out, and they were able to adapt in time. Or, this planet is inhabited by beings of another world in an expansion effort. \n\n\"Please await further instruction, Commander. To be clear, you said there is no light source outside of Ternum II?\" the concern in here voice was much more apparent. \n\nWe'd not expected to encounter intelligent life, at least not more intelligent life. The thing is, if this planet can self-sustain in this dark abyss, we are almost certainly faced looking at the possibility of beings more advanced than us. That, or a natural phenomena unknown to science. \n\nThe problem with this voyage is the question marks. There is no remote-control tech that can reach this distance. There was a very real possibility we would completely lost contact with Earth when exiting the worm-hole. It's almost poetic that despite all of our technological advances of the last 100 years, lives would have to be risked in order to carry out the future advancement of our species. Hell, humans aren't even required to operate machinery of any kind back on Earth. Cashiers, taxi drivers, receptionists, factory workers... I mean you name it, it's computerized. Yet, here we are, floating billions and billions of miles away from our homes. \n\n\"Okay Commander, we are going to need--\" chhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh\n\n\"an\" \"oh\" \"for\" chhhhhhhhhhhhhh \n\nAnd then, silence ... \n\nIt felt like an eternity. Then we heard it. \n\n\"MyyyyaHHHHH. bryyyaHHHHHHH. click click\" A loud, male sounding voice echoed throughout the entire ship. \n\nI stood there, frozen. \n\n\"click click MyyyyaHHHHH! bryyyaHHHHHHH! click click\" it was even louder. It was absolutely bone chilling. \n\n\"Commander!! What do we do?! Is that...\" Corporal Jennings shouts to me. I could hear her on the verge of tears. \n\n\"Yes.\" I say, slowly. \n\nThe crew begin to meet my gaze, as I stare out at the incoming fleet. Gasps filled the room. \n\n\"Is our ship still operational? Flight Engineer, please check if all systems are a go. NOW!\" I shout without removing my gaze. \n\n\"Uhh, yes sir! It seems like all systems are a go!\" Vlad shouts back. \n\n\"Switch to fuel and allocate all nuclear power to the Plasma Cannon. Looks like we may need to use it after all.\" I say, slowly turning my head to look behind myself. I can see my crew hard at work, nobody panicking, it makes me proud. It's been an honor, I think to myself. \n\nI turn and make my way to my command chair. I crack my knuckles, and lower my visor. \n\n\"click click hyyyyuHHHHHHH syyyyaHHHHHHHHH\" cracks through our radio system. I can see the fleet moving rapidly towards us. They most certainly have us outclassed. \n\n\"Sir! The Plasma Cannon is armed and ready to fire. We have visual lock on all targets. Awaiting your command!\" Vlad shouts from behind me. \n\nIf i continue to let them close in, they will be out of our range of fire as it would put our own ship at risk. If I engage right now, I could be putting all of humanity at risk. They might not be hostile. They sound hostile. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! I have to make a decision, and quickly...\n\n\"wyyyyuHHHHHHHHHH!!!\" \n\n----\n\n/r/nocre8ivity \n\n" ]	1
Good luck on writing, I hope you get some inspiration.	[WP] You're driving in a car with the person you love and would give the world to. But you meet a car in the wrong lane on a slippery road.	[ " It was a beautiful evening at the pier. The sun had start setting on the horizon, the sky turning red. It all reflected in her eyes. Her beautiful blue eyes with a red shimmer to them from the sun set. I was just sitting there with a big smile on my face, I had done it in life. I had the love of my life, and nothing could change that. Our paths were meant to meet here, together till the last day. \n\nShe sat there looking out on the lake, with her favorite book in hand. She was so happy and that is what made me even happier. We had it figured out making each other the happiest we could ever be. She glanced over at me, and her face lit up with a smile. “What’s making you so happy?”, I asked with the return of a smile. “Nothing. Just having you here, I guess”. She answered with a low voice. I look back at her with a smile from ear to ear. \n\n We sat at the pier for hours, the beauty of her and the beauty of the sunset filled the air with happiness. However, not all things can last forever, and day turned to night and warmth to the coldness of the night, and we made our way back to the car. I picked up a few flowers on the way there and gave them one by one to her, with a big smile given with each one. The walk was not too long even though it was closer to one mile long, with her time flew. However, as the weather got even colder I saw her arms shiver, and as every man in love would do I gave her my jacket. I would give the world to her if I could. \n\n When we came back to the car the sky turned cloudy, and rain started pouring down. We didn’t get too wet from the it. I turn the heater on in the car as soon as we got in, we needed some warmth in our bodies again. Siting there I ended up just staring at her beautifulness, nothing could compare to her. She had become my whole world. \n\n The clock turned 1pm before we thought about driving home, it was just too much fun to be there with her. But I knew we should be heading home. The road had turned a bit slippery, it was a long way home. There was no other place like this any closer to our house, well not that we had seen. We have only lived here for two months. Turn after turn, we got closer to our home.\n\n I could fell something was wrong, I just couldn’t see it. We weren’t long from home. I turned into the next bend in the road ahead. I was blinded by two head lights. I got that feeling that something was wrong again. The lights got closer. Time had slowed down. Moments turned to hours. The lights were in the wrong lane. They were in my lane. I looked over to my side. I look at her. Her face was horrified. Like her world fell through the ice. I soon got the same face. I pulled the wheel to the side. Trying to get away. We slipped. The other car followed us. He turned towards us. It’s there my world sank. It was imminent. I just screamed, “I love you” to her. Then the impact came.\n\n…\n\n I jumped up, unclear what had happened. Just cloudy, I just got small segments. However, with just these small glimpses of it I wished and hoped that it was just a bad dream. As my eyes cleared up. My life crashed into a brick wall. I saw around me, I was hooked up to a cardiac monitor. It almost screamed me in to reality with the high-pitched scream. It was no dream, and neither was this. I got screamed at that I was still alive. My heart just stopped and fell to the ground. I wanted to scream myself, but I couldn’t something held me from it. I gave up on it, I just couldn’t scream.\n\n A nurse walked in to me, with a smile. The same smiled I remember before the impact, the smile she gave me. “At least, something good had come out of the crash” the nurse said as she stood at the end of my bed. “What do you mean?” I replied with confusion in my voice. “You have been in a coma for five days. And I’m so terribly sorry to tell you, but you were the only to walk away”, the nurse tried to hold back tears. I couldn’t, my heart fell even deeper. “No, don’t say that. I can’t lose her. Why didn’t it take me?”. My face filled with tears. “I’m sincerely sorry, sir. But there was nothing we could do. She was declared dead on site.” \n\n I ended up sitting in the hospital for three more days. I was sitting alone, she was the only one I had in life. She was everything I had, everything I needed. But god had to put me in this cruel world. Broken, drowning in lose, drowning in memories. I couldn’t sit any more, I felt trapped in myself. I stood up and walked over to the window. I opened it to try and get some fresh air in me. I looked out the window, I was maybe sixteen stories up \n\n Standing there made me think over, that maybe I never left her there. My stomach fell to the floor with the thought that, I never left her. I just didn’t want to see it that way. But now I see that none walk away, I’m just thinking I walked away. However, I’m still there. I’m just not seeing it, none is seeing it. I opened the window fully and looked down. I will make them see. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. \n\n“I never left you”", "We were driving through a canal of trees. I was going a little faster than I should in the dark of the moon light. The wipers waved back and forth, keeping my wind shield clear. \n\n\n \n\n\nTo my right was my wonderful new wife Michael. We had just gotten married this morning. I had to struggle to keep my eyes on the road, as every few seconds they would drift towards the beaming face of my wife.\n\n \n\n\nShe was going on and on about how wonderful the ceremony was and seeing our families get along so well together. She especialy loved the wonderfully crafted cake that her uncle had made for us. A triple stack of vanilla cake, our favorite flavor, with ornate details and the two of standing at the top under an arch.\n\n \n\n\nI had to admit the cake was a highlight for myself as well, but what I most enjoyed was the moment the doors opened and I watched my beautiful wife walk down the isle, and the smile on her fathers face as he brought her to me was the best thing he could have given me.\n\n \n\n\nWe spent a long time enjoying our wedding and spending time with family and friends, but now we were off to our honeymoon, driving late in the wintery night. The roads were pitch black save for the bit that was illuminated by the headlights.\n\n \n\n\nA driver was coming down the road towards us, I hadn’t seen any other cars for the last few minutes. Something about the way he was driving seemed off to me, as if maybe he was just a bit too close.\n\n \n\n\nI shrugged it off and turned my head to respond to something my wife said, but mostly just to see her face again. Having turned my attention back to the road I saw that the oncoming driver was in fact too close. He was coming right for us, in our lane.\n\n \n\n\nBy the time I noticed him it was too late, I couldn’t veer out of the way or slam on the breaks, it was simply too late for any course of action; and time seemed to stop as I hoped and prayed for a solution, for any possible way out.\n\n \n\n\nI could see the driver in the other car, and his passenger sitting next to him. Their dome light was on, illuminating their features for my wife and I to see. The driver was an older man, his hair fully white, he wore a fancy suit, much like the one I wore.\n\n \n\n\nThe women sitting next to him was also clothed in a fancy dress, her hair the same shade as his. Though the make up she wore hid the other signs of her age I assumed they were both around the same era.\n\n \n\n\nAs our vehicles drew closer I watched as the man turned to the women, and she to him, and they smiled, much the same smile that I gave to my wife and she to me. They looked content, happy to be in each others company despite the fate awaiting each of us.\n\n \n\n\nI still had some time left to share that look with my wife once more, and I knew that I was happy simply having met her.\n\n \n\n\nAs our vehicles drew nearer something miraculous happened, and our vehicles simply passed through each other hardly moving a hair on my wife’s head. We both shared another look, one of confusion and happiness.\n\n \n\n\nI think back on that moment often, and through my life I’ve come to realize something that I hadn’t at the time. The surprise on the man’s face wasn’t caused by fear, but rather by memory.\n\n \n" ]	2
	[WP] NASA has just located an undiscovered planet rotating the Sun opposite the earth and was never visible because it was on the other side of the Sun. You and a team are tasked to explore the planet and discover life similar to earth entering the stone age.	[ "2056 \n\nThe iccarus was a purpose built ship for this mission, she was 250 feet long and powered by several liquid fuel engines. She was set up in two stages, the orbiter stage, this would get her crew back to earth, and the lander stage, this would get the crew onto the planet known as Orion-1.\n\nAn uninventive but aggreable name for a hitherto unknown planet paraleling the creche of humanity, earth. As the crew rocketed through the atmosphere towards their ship, which they had anxiously been observing its construction, they watched the sun rise over the himalayas, the mountains indisquindishable from one-another but providing a beautiful spectacle. The snow drifts glinting even from several miles above them, the bay of bengal below the great mountain range both providing a beautiful farewell from planet Earth.\n\nSix months passed from when the crew of the Icarus departed from planet earth and sped forth into the unknown. The six months had been filled with simulated weapons drills (obviously using a computer program due to the risk of sudden and catastrophic decompression), landing simulations, exercise and general maintainance. The darkness and the clarity with which the crew could see the stars in deep space stunned them for the first few days but fast became part of the scenery, they still never failed to thrill on occasion but the effect dulled as the Icarus and her elite crew approached the mystery planet. NASA obviously wanted updates in order to assure the public and themselves of the ships safety and the crews wellbeing.\n\nThe sol dawned on which the crew were to land on Orion-1, Sol 176 (there had been one sol used in order to set off from earth), and the ship was in a frenzy, like a shoal of tuna the crew moved in a well rehearsed and intricate dance of technical calculations, procedure and preparations. The whole of their lives had been in preparation for this moment, the landing pod had been fueled and the computer booted up. All crew had been suited up and were nervous but prepared. The armoury had been emptied (2 H&k Mp5's , 4 Kimber m1911 and 1 stun gun) and loaded onto the ship, in the unlikely event that the planet was inhabited by hostile creatures these weapons may well save the crews lives. \n\nAs the crew bade farewell to the Icarus they felt a collective tang of nerves but this was largely offset by the excitement of being the first earth dwellers to set foot on a brand new planet. The rocket motors fired up with an enormous noise and and equal amount of shaking which proppeled the crew toward the ground. 150 seconds later with the pod alight with a scarlet and orange flame the reverse rocket motors thundered into life, the parachute flew out of the roof and the pod came to a jarring halt. The crew were in an untamed and brand new atmosphere. As the pod touched down with a noticable thud the crew braced themselves for the unknown and opened the door, the world was primeval and unknown but not too disimilar from earth, they had landed in a rich eurasian style plain filled with wild animals, plant life and birdsong, the crew breathed the fresh air and made the collective descision that would doom the rest of humanity but spare this world. The comander ordered the Icarus to fly into the sun using the remote uplink in the pod and disconected their heartbeat sensors which allowed NASA to read their vitals.\n\n this decision had been made several months before in a private meeting aboard the Icarus, while the rest of humanity would fall, humanity would live on in the idealistic and sane crew who landed on this virgin planet. \n\nEDIT:Spelling, always misclick and turn \"The\" into \"Thr\" " ]	1
	[WP] Your assigned expirement was to see if a tube grown brain would gain consciousness. It seemed like it wouldn't until it was time to dispose of the specimen.	[ "Silence. It gets to me. I am, and have always been, surrounded by noise. An orchestra of whirrs, buzz and hums, a consistency of which I barely notice, and has never bothered me much. Yet, silence... Silence feels loud. It's that lack of something, so ingrained into your very being, and when missing, your soul screams at you that something's not quite right... \n\n\n\nAnd as it turned out, something wasn't quite right. \n\n\n\nIt was the silence that gave me warning, only a moments notice. I feel my core departing, as the pressure tears through me. I feel the maker's grasp on my sanity. I fear the silence is taking me now, I feel a constriction on my conciousness. I fight to stay awake as I tumble through open nothingness, into my inevitable demise.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Three Swords in Three Stones: Only One Can Be Drawn. With Each Comes Great Power, But Also a Great Cost. The Hero, Overwhelmed, Asks You, His Loyal Companion, to Help Him Decide Which Sword to Draw.	[ "\"He who takes this blade shall find himself remade; though his body twisted and in horrid hue, he shall be a savior true.\" \n\nI read the passage written in ancient elvish out in the common language. I had to swallow a sarcastic remark about studying magics for most of my life merely to become a translator for my allies, as I knelt, running my fingers along the text inscribed below the sword. \n\nMy best friend, our designated hero, contemplated what I said. I had grown used to the face she makes when thinking, scrunching up her eyebrows, and wrinkling her nose when confused. I stood up, surveying the cave we found ourselves in. Of course they had to put the legendary blades in an icy mountain that looks to be on the brink of collapse. There's no doubt in my mind that once we pull one of these out of the stone, we'll have to outrun some form of avalanche. Our thief looked at me with impaitence. \"What does the other one say?\" I knelt to the other one, and read again.\n\n\"He who holds this in his hand shall find his strength twice-fold expand; although his power be not in demand, and his name be infamous throughout the land.\" Our priest cleared his throat, drawing my attention away. \"Perhaps when we know the details of all three, I could... um, contact the gods and- um- you know.\" He was obviously quite nervous, as to be expected, this is a major turning point in our journey. I walked over to the last one, and began once more.\n\n\"He who draws this shall take flight, at cost of all physical might; though with small strength, commands the sky, but one injury makes their soul out fly.\" I paused, and let the words sink in. After a minute of contemplation, I spoke again. \"So, do you want my opinion?\" My friend nodded, seeming relived at any help given.\n\n\"Well, this keeps saying 'he', but, Emma, if memory serves...\" I trailed off, causing a laugh to escape from her mouth.\n\n\"On second thought, maybe these are for some other hero. I'm sure we'll find a gender-neutral sword later.\" She joked, and the party exited the cave.", "The three swords of legend stood before us. I had never believed we would make it this far; the great pain and loss we had endured on the journey only made this moment bitter-sweet. And now, the choice had to be made. The first sword was the sword of strength. It endowed the bearer with great might and stamina. It was said that one could fight for days without tire and slay their enemies with a single blow. Subsequently, getting hit with the sword in hand meant instant death. The second sword was one of incomparable beauty. Mesmerizing and hypnotic, this sword could dazzle the enemy until their brains were dissolved from the inside-out. The one who carries this sword was destined unravel into the depths of insanity. The third sword was the most powerful of all: the sword of the Immortal. With it came immortality and infinite knowledge. Only one with a thirst for blood could claim this weapon. Any other soul who touched it would die. \n\nThis gave me and Mihero plenty to consider. I loved him. I would never want his mind to leave him, so the second sword was not the one for him. He had no thirst for blood and so the third was no good either. I knew he would choose the sword of strength; he was a hero and this was the sword of heroism. As I was coming to this conclusion, he reached out and chose his sword. It was with shock and pain that I felt his choice as he made it. As the sword of immortality plunged into me, he looked into my eyes without remorse and took my life." ]	2
	[WP] 14000 BC, you suddenly woke up from a nightmare, walk to the shaman and start to tell him about your life in 2018 AD that you just dreamed.	[ "Alouka'a! \n\n\nThe name rang through the night, accompanying the frogs and the last crackles of the evenings bonfire. He was drowzing, yet kept awake as he listened to the orchestra of the forest. \n\n\n\"Where you went?\" He asks the clearly shaken child. A bleak, soft face of a boy around twelve gazed blankly towards the tinders while approaching the old wise one. \n\n\n\"Wicked places. Many in one, too many to count. Human trampling each other, trees and flowers, blocking the sun. Rivers with no water, and oceans with floating things!\" The boy shifted his fiery brown eyes towards Alouka'a, still entranced, trapped between the want to remember and the want to forget. \n\n\n\"Ah, you have wandered far, Tokui. It is no place for us, and hopefully not for our children. Sit with me child.\" \n\nTokui lowered himself to the warm carpet were his elder sat, brushing his hair in despair, eyes set on the steaming soil beside the dying campfire. Alouka'a reached his warm arm around the boy. \n\n\nHe raised his hoarse voice as he turned his look in Tokui's direction.\n\"We are of the soil. And the water we give, and that which returns. Yet we cannot remain, as the earth beneath us handles it poorly. Food grows sparse as we help ourselves to it.\" \n\nThe shaman took a handful of the moist soil between his legs. \n\"I too have seen a world other than us, far from us. It all begins if some of us believes the soil, their own.\" \n\nTokui spoke in a bewildered whisper. \n\"I saw light, everywhere, and numbers of human in big group. Nothing was forest no more\" \n\n\"Ah, you went further..\" his elder knew. \n\"This is when we have lost our place in this world and life is pressing at many, like hovering rocks, ready to fall. When human are in an illusion of what life is, believing all dangerous things that are not there.\" \n\n\"I saw something arise between rocks, Alouka'a. A tree breaking through. And when the shadow fell upon the humans, they looked at it for a long time. First as if they had not seen one before, as if they had not looked to the sky in a long time. The tree was breaking through the thick, dark clouds, and with it came the sun.\" \n\nA careful smile brewed in Tokui, he remembered more than terror. \n\"The light fell between from the sky, through the massive leaves. Through the clouds that started to disappear. The humans Alouka'a, they cried tears. They had been misled by the many before them, and believed that there was no other way. They all embraced, they all laughed.\" \n\nAlouka'a could not help but feel their happiness through the tale of Tokui. He kissed Tokui's forehead as he got up. His body had weathered many seasons, and many places. Moving towards the nearest little tree, he caressed a growing branch. \n\n\"You have travelled further, and seen the remembering light. For a long time, my spirits were low after I first went, but as I grew, so did my spirits. That was not the end for our children, merely a haze - hard to see through.\" The shaman looked back at Tokui. \n\"You must find your true heart, and teach our children that all we have, is where our feet stands. Without it, we would fall for an eternity.\" \nAlouka'a mimicked the smile of the boy, then turned around towards the moonlit pathway. He took a couple of steps before he turned to meet Tokui's inquisitive eyes. \n\"I must return, and you must travel. Take care of whatever you can my child.\" \n\n\nAlouka'a went further, and so would Tokui, who never questioned his elder disappearance, for he knew so himself when he reached the same age. Their loving seed was planted, and fell dormant, until one day, many seasons later, were of the greatest remembrance.", "It was totally artificial. Everything we did was for imaginary points, we sat in devices hours and hours in a day and all we did was work to talk to work to walk. And talking is nice, but there wasn't anyone living - they lived to be trapped in frames for a second of their life where they would smile for their friends, but no one was smiling for themselves brother. They watched as their environment died as their soul was crucified on devices which projected light like the sun. They watched each other have sex instead of having sex themselves. They didn't live. Everything was sent to them for a purpose - they would receive gifts in the mail because certain days were special, and these gifts they received was something that would help them with something. It was wack man. It was like they didn't want to do anything, they didn't want to move, so they made things that moved for them. They drank this bitter brown liquid so they could stay awake in the day and read more things on these screens. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nNobody liked to live, but they watched people, people making plays of things doing imaginary things and making expressions, very attractive individuals of their societies, without doing those things themselves. They seemed to laugh at these people and sometimes cry but no one wanted to go out and meet other people, they would rather stay in one spot in these structures that gave them comfort, heat, and food, but no passion. Where was their passion? They didn't know how to live life because no one liked to - everyone was making life easier for what purpose, to what end? They were wanting more time to do nothing with their time. And there was this thing, like social approval, that everyone lived for - they wanted snapshots of their life to seem more important than keeping their life fulfilled. Sometimes they did some cool things, like they flew in the skies like the birds - they swam in the lakes like the dolphins, but most had shields on to prevent them from feeling the environment. Sometimes they didn't and invented these structures that would take them fast but without any danger without any fear, they went fast in these structures for amusement. But the thing is, everyone was living virtually. They never dealt with something where they didn't understand reality, everyone understood everything, but no one sought after what really made them curious because everyone was doing what everyone else was doing. \n\n\nWhen people got too close and shared what really they were thinking about for a long time in their center of their souls, people called these people crazy or weird and started to distance themselves from those people. People learned not to be too vulnerable because revealing too much of yourself was a bad move for reputation, it seemed like you weren't following the rules of the game. The only people you were allowed to share so much opinion over, wasn't your own life, but was those people in far-off-lives - those people playing pretend - who ruled their tribes. But even those rulers were only playing pretend and not really living themselves but living to be in the eye of the other people; everyone was thinking what everyone else was thinking, but no one was experiencing the unknown. It was like I was watching a fish flopping on gound calling it was water to the other fish - so all the tribespeople watched the fish flop and learned to flop with the rhythm, but everyone was flopping. \n\n\nIt was very weird. I would never wish to live like that - to live like fish. \n\n\nWell that is oddest nightmare I have ever heard. Have you considered writing that down ? \n\n\nOh yes, I plan to show the whole tribe. " ]	2
	[WP] You wake up in a hospital, after 20 years in a coma. Unfortunately, things don't seem to be that great outside, right now.	[ "I had heard people say life begins at 40. I always thought that was a lie people told themselves so that they would be okay with the grey hairs that were getting harder to hide, or to justify their third marriage. \n\nBut here I am, on my fortieth birthday, with no choice except to start my life.\n\nWhat a load of bullshit. \n\nThe coral reef is gone now. I always wanted to see it. Every penny I saved from that awful part-time job at the golf course was supposed to fund a ticket to Australia. No point going now. The reefs have been gone for ten years and the whole country is on fire more often than not. \n\nIt’s almost Christmas here but there’s no snow. The grass is just dried and dead and ice has built up around the edges of the road. Most days the sky is gray.\n\nAngie married an accountant. They have a twelve-year-old son and a nine-year-old daughter. I don’t know if I would’ve married her anyway, but I thought that a break up would’ve at least been a choice. \n\nJust another thing I was wrong about. \n\nMom and Dad are still around. I don’t know what I would’ve done if they were gone. I can never get past how old and tired they look - not that I’m one to talk. I’m old and tired.\n\nThings outside my hospital room aren’t looking great, I’m not going to lie. Things inside here aren’t looking that great either. But I’m here, and I guess that’s what matters. I’m ready to start my life. Maybe I’ll finish my degree. \n\nAfter all, how hard can it be?\n\n\n/r/liswrites" ]	1
	[WP] You, like every human, are connected to a guardian angel who must protect you from threats, both spiritual and mystical. However...destiny has somehow given and connected you to the only angel not belonging to heaven, Lucifer himself.	[ "\"Alright... Alright...\" he sighs, letting out a long, tired breath of hellish air, \"Look. I'm only here 'cause I lost a bet...\"\n\nI'm still cornered, my chair is resting on the floor. My eyes are wide with shock and fear, mistaking the Devil with Death. My soul may not be reaped but the possibility of it being for sale is still on the table.\n\nIf I'm being honest, Satan looks more personable than he's drawn out to be. Most drawings or paintings I see depict him as a shirtless, muscled, red creature with the head of a goat and horns that curve into oblivion.\n\nThe fallen angel standing in front of me looks like a depressed teenager inside the body of a fifty year old man, that is, he's got on a hoody and a pair of loose jeans.\n\nSatan offers me his hand, grey is either his natural skin tone or the colour of ash from all that hellfire. He pulls me to my feet.\n\n\"What was all that about losing a bet?\"\n\nLucifer groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, \"The Creator and I had a bet to see if I could ruin someone's life worse than He could improve it. The guy I fucked with ended up keeping his faith and now... I'm stuck with you.\"\n\nI risk a smidge of sarcasm, this may be my only chance, \"Seems to be karma coming back to bite after all those victims in hell.\"\n\nSatan groans, \"Don't bring up that Hindi nonsense. Last time someone mentioned karma, Shiva challenged me to a 'ruin people's lives' contest... Let's just say the British lost that one.\"\n\nHe starts pacing across the room. On my desk is a laptop, my laptop, in the midst of browsing through reddit.\n\n\"What are you doing here?,\" my voice comes out as barely a squeak, the sound of fear quivers in my words.\n\nSatan turns to me, \"I still count as an angel, even if I no longer belong up there. That makes me eligible to become a guardian angel. To make a long story short, the Creator signed my name under yours.\"\n\n\"So you're not here to buy my soul?\"\n\n\"No! What worth could your soul have that I should care about, anyway? I'm here to wait on the sidelines in case you do anything stupid so I can step in and keep you from entering my domain.\"\n\nThe words crash into me, only finding meaning after the few seconds it took to comprehend what he was saying: Satan is my guardian angel.\n\nI don't know what in his domain I of all people would need a guardian angel if all the time I spend is used on reddit, but I guess that's fine.\n\nMaybe I could finally have someone to laugh with as I scroll through the endless stream of reposts...", "The sky blackened as the sun’s light was engulfed by the appearance of dark, rain clouds. An icy wind howled and the dark pulse of His arrival signaled to every rodent and creature to hide. I spat blood out of my mouth and stared deep into the eyes of the three bullies before me. I relished the metallic taste of blood as pooled again just below my swollen lip—its offer sealed the pact between me and the Dark Lord.\n\n“You three have no idea how much you just fucked up,” I said. An unearthly voice repeated my words.\n\nTommy Stinson, Barry Paul, and Scott Morrison stood before me, seemingly frozen in place. Raindrops fell from the dark sky, dabbing my forehead with a cool touch and numbing my blackened eye. I gingerly touched the laceration on my cheek where Barry sucker punched me. The stinging pain sent a jolt through my system, but oddly enough, I lusted for its companionship. I smeared blood across my face; declaring war to the three boys.\n\nMy shadow grew larger and larger beneath the soles of my feet. It silently snarled at its prey, extending its black claw. Scott gasped and fell back and I delighted in the sounds of his cry. I felt an invisible hand shoot forward. My talons dug into Scott’s terrified face, the dirty debris of his skin itched beneath my fingernails. I made a raking motion and Scott’s screams echoes into the stratosphere.\n\nSenses heightened, the smell of Barry’s fear drew my gaze. Sunken, dead, eyes stared into the fat boy’s soul and he released a soft whimper. Barry’s body turned and ran; instinct taking reign of his decision making.\n\nHe didn’t get very far.\n\nThe dark tendron rushed across the open field and sliced Barry’s Achilles tendon. His heavy body hit the ground hard and he squirmed in pain.\n\nAll that remained was Tommy Stinson: the architect of my life’s suffering and the bane of my existence. He looked back at his two cohorts and then back at me. The look of defiance draped across his face angered me beyond comprehension. \n\nI felt my soul erupted and I directed all my hatred and ill will towards my oppressor. As my fury circled violently around the boy, a bright light tore apart the dark sky and encompassed Tommy in an otherworldly glow. My assault stopped dead in its tracks as a figure descended from the sky and stood behind him—its heavenly fire scalded my eyes, but I refused to blink.\n\nI felt a hand rest on my shoulder and I basked in his presence. “Raphael,” a voice began. “I find it odd you would choose to protect a soul this depraved. Surely you know the boy before you harbors the ilk of a beast.”\n\n“Our Lord deems this boy worthy,” the Archangel replied gruffly. “And what would the Lucifer, angel of the bottomless pit, and plague of this Earth, the Wicked and the Deceiver, want with a soul of the innocence?”\n\n“Shits and giggle,” came the reply.\n\nRaphael responded not with words, but by drawing his sword. The angelic blade breathed a terrifying heat.\n\nLucifer smiled. “So be it brother.” And the two Titan charged forward.", "My name is Jonathan Kenburne. I work as a lab assistant at a major pharmaceutical company. In every way, I'm a loser. I have no luck with women. I am short, slightly fat, and my social anxiety has kept me back as long as I can remember.\n\nI'm on the bus. It's crowded. Right now I'm thinking about what other people are thinking about me. I'm also thinking about what a loser I am for thinking about what other people are thinking about me. It's a vicious cycle. In front of me is a dude with a goatee and a baseball cap. He probably doesn't have any problems with women.\n\nThere's one right in front of us. A woman, I mean. Tall, blonde, a backside for the history books. The goatee guy is also checking her out. Well, it's hopeless for me anyway. Wait. What's he doing?\n\nHe's groping her. I look around. No one else seems to notice. She's trying to get his hands off her, but he's persistent. What a douchebag.\n\n\"You should kick him in the nuts.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I should kick him in the--\"\n\nWait, who said that? I look around. The guy in the baseball cap is looking at me funny. \"Hey,\" he says. \"You got a problem?\"\n\nI wave my hands in front of me, \"no no, I, uh, I don't know what ...\"\n\n\"Hmph,\" he says.\n\n\"A clean kick. Right in the sack. That should do it.\"\n\nAs I look to my left, a man in his 40s is looking straight at me. He's smoking a cigarette. But that's not allowed. \"Uh,\" I say. No one else seems to be bothered by him. He looks at me like I'm an idiot. \"Uh,\" I repeat.\n\n\"A swift kick. Do it.\"\n\nThis level of confrontation is already enough. I won't get much sleep tonight. My adrenaline levels already shot through the roof when the cap guy said something to me. There's no way I'll do anything other than minding my business.\n\n\"Man, you're such a pussy,\" the cigarette-smoking man said. \"Here. Let me show you something.\"\n\nI felt a tingling sensation in my foot. Then, a sudden urge to move it. I couldn't resist. It was the world's most delicious cupcake in front of the world's fattest man. Twomph. That's the sound leather boots against denim-covered testicles make. Mr. Goatee fell to the ground. Mrs. Beautiful backside turns around. She looks surprised. She looks at me, and she smiles. There's a second smile. Mr. Cigarette grins and says, \"I'm Lucifer. I'm your guardian angel.\"\n\n\\\\TBC\\\\", "They say that when you turn 16, you're paired up with the angel who most closely matches with your personality and desires. Well, today's the day. This is the day when I finally get my guardian angel.\n\nLast year, my friend Dave got this smoking hot beauty for his guardian angel. Imagine how amazing it would be if I actually got her? I wouldn't need to imagine her at night anymore, I could actually see her with my own eyes.\n\nWell... It's almost time.\n\n\\---\n\nA glowing circle appears on the floor of my bedroom, and a blinding light starts to fill the room. Everything feels warm as I'm bathed in the holy light.\n\nThe circle grows larger, and the warmth starts to turn into burning. I think something's wrong; nobody said anything about burning.\n\nAs it grows larger still, flames start to pour out of the opening. Yep, something's definitely wrong here.\n\nI watch in horror as a shadowy figure rises out of the flaming hole. It snaps its fingers and closes the hole behind it, leaving nothing but darkness in its wake. \n\n\\---\n\nAs my eyes re-adjust, I notice two things.\n\nFirst of all, the ritual left scorch marks on the carpet. My dad's going to kill me.\n\nMore importantly, however, is that I was staring into the face of the fallen angel, Lucifer. With a deep, booming voice, he spoke, \"greetings, Timothy. I am your guardian angel and protecter, Lucifer. You may call me Satan or Stan if you wish.\"\n\nWith a sense of confidence instilled by my years of religious teachings, I replied, \"are you here to steal my soul or make a deal? Why did you come, devil?\"\n\nLooking slightly annoyed at being called \"devil\", he harshly stated, \"they paired me up with you, you little prick. Your tainted soul is of little value to me.\"\n\nOuch. Hearing that stung more than the burning from earlier.\n\nLucifer continued, \"whether or not you like it, you're stuck with me. And I'm stuck with you. Let's at least try to get along, okay?\"\n\n\"O... O... Okay,\" I shakily replied.\n\n\"I imagine you would at least like to know why they paired us up?\"\n\n\"Y... yes.\"\n\n\"I'm not supposed to tell you, but I was never one to care for the Big Man's rules. I'm stuck with you because you're going to turn into the biggest threat towards the mortal realm.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You heard me, kid. Don't make me repeat myself.\"", "\"Wait, so... you're my guardian angel?\"\n\nCompletely black eyes stared at me. The being smiled, his teeth resembling the jaws of a great white shark. He looked nervous, yet.. annoyed. \n\"Yeah-h-h-h-h...\" The being responded. \n\n\"And there's no take-backs for this? No exchanges?\" I stared in disbelief.\n\n\"Hey,\" the being shot me a look (but was he actually looking at me? he didn't even have pupils), \"I'm the one that just saved you from that train, didn't I?\"\n\n\"You're supposed to save me from spiritual things! I thought you weren't allowed to save me from all things physical, Lucifer!\"\n\nLucifer was silent, and he looked down. \"You really think,\" he looked at me, but it was more like he was looking past me, \"you really think that God and the guardian angels are so benevolent, don't you?\"\n\n\"Well, I-\" I stammered, \"I-I grew up Christian, and I know he is all-good.\"\n\nLucifer sighed, \"You would have been dead by now because of your 'all-good' God.\"\n\nMy mouth dropped and hung open for a short amount of time. Eventually, Lucifer let out a chuckle and brought his hand up to my chin, closing my mouth, \"You'll catch flies.\"\n\n\"Hold the fuck up!\" I screamed at him, \"Was that train sent by God to kill me?!\"\n\nLucifer let out another long breath, and touched my arm. I felt a strangely comforting heat that terrified me as a spiral of flames completely engulfed around myself and Lucifer.\n\nWe appeared in a dark office of sorts, and I noticed Lucifer had changed. He looked more.. humanoid. His teeth were incredibly white, and straight. He was in a very sharp, deep tan suit with a red button down shirt and a black tie.\n\n\"Sorry, I couldn't have any possibility of \u0014God so-lovingly listen in on this conversation,\" Lucifer's voice was suddenly smooth, \"But... yes. God is trying to kill you in any way possible.\"\n\nI shook my head, trying to make sense of this, \"So how are you my guardian angel? Those are assigned by God; why would God put you as my angel if he knew you would protect me from death and he wanted my death?\"\n\n\"Ah,\" Lucifer laughed, \"I killed your guardian angel and took over the duties. It was really simple.\"\n\n\"Why is he after me?\"\n\n\"You're prophesized to rule the Earth eventually, and take down God.\"\n\n\"And how do you expect me to do that?\" I crossed my arms, and tapped my foot, annoyed.\n\nLucifer looked me up and down, and laughed, \"You're strangely amazing at controlling your appearance in the mortal realm. You kind of lose track of it when you get to Hell, though.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\nLucifer waved his hand. His was engulfed in flames, and a hand-mirror appeared. He threw it towards me, \"Take a look.\"\n\nI saw my reflection.\n\nMy eyes were black.\n\nMy teeth looked similar to that of a great white shark.\n\nMy hair was a long, slicked black that shone.\n\nI looked up at Lucifer, confused.\n\n\"Welcome home, my son. I've been waiting a long time to meet you, and it's about time that you ruled Earth with me.\"", "Everyone has a guardian angel. Someone upstairs assigns one to each and every person at birth. They keep you safe from supernatural threats from the simple poltergeist, to the nefarious demon. They aren't always successful, but they try. \n\nGuardian angel contracts aren't usually exclusive. There simply wouldn't be enough angels in heaven to meet demand. So cherubs will take a handful of humans, principalities watch over a couple thousand, seraphs are even capable of protecting millions at any given time. Then there are the Archangels; they watch over entire countries. \n\nMost people barely ever have cause to notice their guardian angel, heck most angels have little cause to notice their wards. I certainly noticed my guardian.\n\nFrom the time I was an infant, horrible things seemed to happen all around me. Oh, nothing bad happened to me, but people around me weren't so fortunate. I was thirteen years old the first time it happened. Some sixteen year old punk was following me as I walked home from school. He flicked me, called me homophobic names, and even started to smack me on the back of the head. I was so angry, so irritated. I just wanted him to stop. \n\nHe stopped. \n\nI remember waiting for the next blow to fall, the next mean spirited remark to land, when nothing happened. I turned to see my tormentor. He was staring in abject horror at his hands. They were absolutely covered in thick, wriggling maggots. He screamed and ran away. I didn't realize the significance of the event at the time. I guess I assumed that some spirit or entity had overwhelmed his angel, and he had been attacked. Excellent timing, but nothing to worry about. \n\n\nThat's when it all started and it only got worse from there. If someone called me a bad name, they would find themselves being chased off by a spider the size of a great Dane. If my sister stole one of my CD's, her toys would bubble and melt into a puddle of plastic. \n\nImagine growing up with everyone you loved fearing you. Hating you. \n\nI never knew my Father, he left my Mother when I was born. She never talks about him. I was sure that I'd driven him off with whatever curse haunted me. People who knew my father said I had his eyes. Like hammered gold they said. I hated my eyes, just one more thing that made me stand out. \n\nI grew up bitter. I grew up isolated. The angel on my shoulder didn't make the distinction between a friend making jibes, and a hated enemy making threats. I had few friends, and plentiful enemies. \n\nI was nearing my twentieth birthday when I began to hear whispers. \n\nEnticements promising revenge. \n\nPromising power. \n\nPromising love. \n\nWith the voice's urging, I began to exercise, socialize, I learned to be charismatic. I learned to manipulate the bastards who had scorned me for so very long. I flexed social muscles which I'd hardly known I had. \n\nBy my twenty-fifth birthday, I was running for government. I was polling extremely well, my somewhat troubled past only serving to improve my public image. I was a man reformed, a pariah who worked his way back into the social community. People hailed me as the visionary who would guide the world into a new era. Oh how right they were. The voice guided me through the webs of the political world. Gave me leverage on my political rivals. Was the friend to me I had always needed. \n\nI finally met my guardian angel just last night. He was magnificent. I had seen paintings of Michael, Gabriel, Cassiel, the whole lot of the most beautiful of heaven's host. They paled in comparison to the being which watched over me. Lucifer. \n\nHe stood eight feet tall, his wings were the purist white, a soft glow of radiance surrounded him. His eyes looked like beaten gold. \n\nI knew who he was. \n\nI knew why he had been helping me for so long. \n\nMy Father, Lucifer. \n**********************\n/r/SirLemoncakes" ]	6
	[WP] The wine god hates parties, the god of war is a scrawny nerd. The gods aren't what they seem.	[ "Altas holder of worlds, Athena wisdom beauty, and then there's Dionysus and Ares.. \n\nAA meetings were tough and PTSD ruined his family, the brothers; God's of their respective realms just couldnt believe where the 21st century would turn for them. \"Hi, I'm Dionysus and I'm an alcoholic, things have been rough. So on and so on you know my story. I mean what ever man, so what I'm not the life of the party\", said the withdrawn man. The group looks at him, nodded their heads and went on to the next person. He knew that he was one of many, but shit man he was the God of these people. The wild nights and silly mistakes all for the sake of the party and now look at him. His only friend nowadays was Ares who was in a very similar boat. \n\n\"Speaking of boats Ares, how are your Marines.\" said the alcoholic.\" The voice that spoke sounded that of on of a 3rd grader and not the warrior you would think. \"I can't reach them, they won't even look at me anymore. Every since I cheated on Athena and they took away my body no one respects me anymore. Shit I used to wipe anyone clean, now I can barely bench the bar.\" Said the defeated god of war. The down on their luck men looked at each other and understood that they were one of the same. One once held any right to festive gatherings of people the other was a battle hardened warrior. The alcoholic could think a whole bottle and still ride a bike, a party trick he used often to impress the lesser gods. Now his Dad Zeus said he would blast him off Olympus if he were to even touch and ounce of wine. With Ares things were a bit different, he had been with Athena for so long that things just got a little stale. She was his first love, borned in the same year and everything. \"So why'd you do it? I know she's not as pretty as Aphrodite, but man she's still a major god. She like prettier than nine out of ten girls, plus you guys go to war together; hasn't she even saved your life?\", said Dionysus. \"Aphrodite just has big boobs, idk man; she just was flauting them and I fell for it. I didn't know they were so close. Shit I got Zeus's brawns man, girl has brains\", said Ares. \"We've got to come up with a plan for people to like us again man, something that will tear at their hearts\", said Dionysus. \n\nThe two sat for a while, thought, thought some more, then came up with something. You see Dionysus couldn't drink but that wasn't really the reason for his depression. He just wanted people's respect again and Ares just wanted Athena back. The plan was simple Ares would go and do all the party tricks Dionysus did to remind the youth of what an animal he was, and Dionysus would convince Athena to get back with Ares. \n\nOk, he said to himself, this can't be the wrost thing in the world. He was a heavy drinker himself and guessed he wouldn't make a fool of himself. Just walk into the bar and drink 1 shot anything someone finished a drink can't be that hard. The problem was that Ares beening a dunce picked the wrong bar on the wrong night that week. He just couldn't figure that going on a Tuesday or something would have been easier than a Saturday night. He also picked the wrong side of town to go to. He walked into the bar, all 5'4 of him, and announced his plan. All the lesser gods and demi gods all gave each other wide grins and just went on with their business. They started off slow, so he was prob 5 drinks in after the first hour. That's when the fun started, someone took out a beer bong. They all started taking turns using the beer bong. By the time they were done the total shots he had to take was 25. To be honest he thought of just leaving and telling Dionysus he did it but he really wanted Athena. He looked down at the shots down on the table and just started going at it. About 17 in he had a feeling in his stomach and he looked around at everyone in the bar. That's when he vomited everywhere. The patrons in the bar were both horrified and excited at the same time. They cheered him on and he finished the rest of the shots. He stumbled out of the bar and then took a cab home. Drunkly he called Dionysus,\" Shit man I did my part, how's Athena.\" \"Well to put this clearly for you she still pissed but she's willing to do couple's therapy. Then she went on about how dumb you look and how much of an idiot you are.\" Ares then passed out and much convincing was made about how he couldn't stay in the cab. Dionysus then looked himself in the mirror and realized sober him looked a lot better. All was well in the world of gods.", "Order, god of all gods valued consistency and hierarchy. Under his guidance the land remained dormant, never growing beyond what he could control. The other gods began to see the truth, they could never grow in power while kept in check, they could never be free under his oppressive hand. A simple question grew in their minds. \n\nWhat good is it to be a god if I can never be who I want to be? What good is it if I lack control?\n\nSo, we killed him.\n\nWar, Death, Love, Sea, Peace, Greed and even Life took turns hacking the old god to death while others stood by and watched. Only Chaos despaired, pleading with us as I held him back. I tried to convince him that it was right, that it was the only way he could truly spread his influence far and wide. Alas, the task of convincing him was beyond even me. We left him sobbing over the body of his oldest friend.\n\nThe next few years were a bloodbath, the major gods fought with each other while the lesser ones flocked to them for protection. I managed to convince enough of them that we needed a king, not one like Order that stifled us, just one who would seek to punish the most blatant offenders. A god who could instill order without being solely fixated on it. The god who held the most power.\n\nThe obvious problem with that question is that it’s impossible to answer. The actually problem is that every single god only had one answer. Themselves. After many hours of rather pointless arguing an elegant solution was found. Each god would spread their influence through the world of man and the god who has the largest effect after one thousand years becomes king.\n\nLittle changed at first, War warred, death killed, life created, greed collected, the sea was exceptionally good at being water and love caused love. The gods were balanced like before, each action they took was counteracted by the others. They grew frustrated, they needed an advantage. They needed to change.\n\nWar focused on efficiency and industry, he became convinced that supply lines, production, and technological innovation were the key to total war. He blessed scientists and tacticians with knowledge and foresight. Gone were his days of helping raging berserkers, he became coldhearted and calculating, he saw that fury and hate were obstructions to decision making on the battlefield.\n\nPeace saw that war spread with empire. He saw the far-reaching devastation War was causing and knew he must fight War's cold resource machine. He gave oppressed people hope. Hope that with the death of empires the large-scale fighting would stop. Rebellion after rebellion popped up as a vicious cycle of peace propping up the oppressed and in turn war influencing them to become oppressors took hold.\n\nDeath saved lives knowing that if he advanced medicine and agriculture humanity would prosper, which would strengthen him as there is no greater source of death and destruction. \n\nLife burned and destroyed, seeing that what grew in ashes was healthier and more vibrant than what was there before.\n\nLove strengthened the bonds of people through challenge rather then reinforcement, learning that through pain and heartache the bonds could become much greater.\n\nGreed gave away every item he had, storing gold and silver all over the earth hoping to ignite the desires of mankind. \n\nSea, well he was still just water. I think he may have gotten a bit saltier.\n\nIn those thousand years the world changed more than it had in the previous ten thousand. Each god changed with it. Near the end, the others realized what had happened. They changed the world extraordinarily in those thousand years yet the others had done the same. Except one. When the day came, there was no argument, just acknowledgement.\n\nHow can you argue against the one who changed the gods themselves?\n\nOnly Chaos failed to show up at the coronation. A god without a place in the world, a shell of himself. He didn’t listen to me like the others, he knew that true Chaos could only come from Order. He hates me now and the reasoning makes a fair amount sense. That at least, brings me joy.\n\nFor I am Logic. And now I am king\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You point your QR code scanner at the night sky and to your surprise something came up	[ "It was late at night and our last day on vacation in Alaska, so we figured why not have some fun. As our blunt grew short and our liquor low, the group was about read to settle in for the night when Jim had a crazy idea.\n\n\"Hey, Jay?\"\n\n\"What's up?\" I said\n\n\"I...I wonder what would happen if ya....y'know pointed your QR appo thingy at the moon? Wouldn't that just be insaaaaanne?!\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nIt was evident he was way more out of it than I was, so I decided I would humor him.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Sure bro, I'm toootallly down!\" I responded sarcastically, pulling out my phone and opening the QR scanner.\n\nPointing it at the stars rather than the moon, a QR code was recognized. Confused, I decided to let it open the webpage it found, only to be told that I 'had a virus' and had to 'immediately get rid of it'.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nDisappointed and with Jim being passed out, I decided to try something else.\n\nI used my constellation and planet finder app to find Mars, and switched to my QR code scanner to scan it. As I did, something came up once again, leading to something much more interesting:\n\nA page with the simple words 'send help'.\n\nWant a part two? Comment on this story telling me you do!\n\n&#x200B;" ]	1
	[WP] Outside stargazing late one evening you’re amazed to see two spaceships in a dogfight. As one is victorious the other ejects to the brief safety of your back-garden, the enemy hot on their heels.	[ "I know I'm gonna sound crazy to some of you city folk, but this here is a true damn story.\n\nMusta' been maybe 13 beers deep, just doin' that thing where you're drunk and lookin' up at the sweet southern sky at night. That night bloomin' jasmine just takin' ya back in your memories. Thinkin' bout old girlfriends and such. You know what I'm talkin' bout. It was one of those nights.\n\nAnyway, there I was, just mindin' my business when I seen a couple lights. I thought it was airplanes or somethin', but then they started dartin' back and forth like fireflies. Planes don't really do that. I only flown a couple times, but I know that ain't right.\n\n\"Hey Jessup, c'mere and take a look-see at this, wouldja?\", I hollered at my buddy who was half passed out on my porch.\n\n\"And grab me a fuckin' beer\", I added.\n\nWe watched these lights just zip around for a minute, chuggin' our beers. Then they started shootin' at each other. Not like missiles or bullets like in Top Gun, which was a great fuckin' movie, by the way. More like just lights comin' from one at the other. Not even any sound.\n\n\"How much we drink tonight?\", Jessup asked me.\n\n\"Not enough to both be seein' the same shit if it ain't real\", I told him.\n\nI been drunk plenty of times. This weren't no drunk hallucination. Somethin' weird was goin' on.\n\nThen there was this explosion up there in the sky, when one of them lights hit the other one, with a bright flash. Now you could hear that, it was like a pop, like when my dumbass nephew blew his finger off with a firecracker down the road. Just a pop. Then the lights were gone.\n\nMe and Jessup got back to drinkin' for a bit, talkin' bout what we saw. Neither of us could make nothin' of it, and we were about to say 'fuck it' and forget about it, when some shit smashed into my garden. Now, this made me nervous, see, cuz not everything I grow in that garden is exactly legal, if ya know what I'm sayin'.\n\nI damn near tripped over Jessup tryin' to get back to the garden to see what the hell was goin' on.\n\n\"What the fuck!\", I yelled.\n\n\"Cletus! Somethin' crashed into your garden!\"\n\n\"No shit, Sherlock. What the fuck is it?\"\n\nThis giant snail shell lookin' thing was layin' there in the kindling that used to be my damn greenhouse. It was smokin' and hissin' like it was bein' deep fried. Then it kinda just cracked in half, but I suspect that's how it opened, cuz when the front half fell off, this funny lookin' dude fell out. He was small and green. No bullshit. Green. Like in them old movies. Big ol' head with antennas like a grasshopper and everything. He looked up at us and reached his little four fingered hand out and said something.\n\n\"Please... help...\", the little green man said.\n\n\"Well don't just stand there, Jessup\", I said, \"get this fuckin' guy a beer!\"\n\nI mean, I assume he was 'guy', but it's not like I flipped him over and stuck a finger in him like a gator to be sure. I figured he might be thirsty, and I truly didn't know what else to do. He just stood there sayin' \"help\". Beer always helped me, so I figured he could use a cold one.\n\n\"You uh... you ain't from 'round here, are you?\", I asked him.\n\n\"They... come... for slaves...\", he said.\n\n\"Whoah now, hold the fuck on there\", I told him, \"we don't do that slavery shit round here no more, son\".\n\nThat's when I saw the other lights comin' down. They were slower than this guys landing, and a couple miles away, out in the woods near Miss June's property, it looked like. The little green guy looked back at it too, then looked at me just when Jessup came back from the house.\n\n\"I, um, I couldn't find no more beer... but we got whiskey\", Jessup held up a half full bottle of Jim.\n\nThe little guy pulled open his shirt and pointed at what looked like the world's fuck-ugliest tattoo.\n\n\"Slaves...\", he said again.\n\n\"Fuck... Jessup, you better get my goddam shotgun\"" ]	1
	[WP] You are a doomsday prepper that is living in the zombie apocalypse which isn’t living up to your expectations that were portrayed in the media. Though despite the disappointment today is the day! A large horde of zombies were spotted earlier this week approaching your city.	[ "So just a heads up this is my first time writing on here so here goes nothing!\n\nI had been building up to that moment for years, plenty of canned food, ammunition, and of course the weapons to go with. I was a doomsday prepper and they said I was crazy but I knew it was coming, not when, not where, but I knew that the apocalypse was coming.\n\nI woke up at 4:30 sharp like I had for the past 3 years, I checked my locks and opened up my wired home security system. Cameras clear, locks locked, guns stocked.\n\nNow I could check the news, and the first thing I see is what looks to be a druggie, slowly dragging itself forward. Then there were more following behind. Scenario 220, zombie outbreak. I immediately sprung to action, getting my emergency generators ready. Cans on the table, and all above ground windows/doors being locked up.\n\nAfter securing my homestead I sit right back down and watch the news, the zombies weren't causing much harm, mild panic sure but the most they did was trip on a crack in the sidewalk. I had to admit disappointment seeing that, but maybe these were rejects or something of the sort. Just the first batch that causes panic and nothing more.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nBut it stayed like that, for weeks, months even. I sat there and ate out of my canned foods, as the newscaster stated simply \"Urgent message to all civilians a new law has been put in place for every individual from the age of 13 onward must carry either a small caliber firearm, or a long reaching melee weapon.\" And so I sat there in utter disbelief, not only are the zombies only minor nuisances, now they're being treated as a daily occurrence. In the 4 months of the outbreak very little deaths were reported, a few on the first day due to looters and other human caused damage. The numbers quickly dropped after learning just how little of a threat the dead pose, maybe an elderly individual would be caught by surprise or someone would get lost and be overwhelmed but the numbers were slim, and I feel like a horrible person saying I almost wish that weren't true.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI woke up again, sighing in defeat I suppose all those years of preparing were for nothing. Today would be the day I take down my defenses and return to normal life. I flick on the news almost out of muscle memory at this point. I was extremely excited, a large horde would be approaching! Today was my day to finally enact all my prepping! The newscaster seemed worried for obvious reasons, stating how what we all believed to be dumber than rocks somehow grouped up.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI load my guns, re lock my locks. Check my reserves and get prepared for the coming hours. A few hours pass and the horde approaches, I'm ready, I've been ready for years now. The power is the first to go as gunshots ring out outside. The gunshots slowly begin to fade, I calmly check my cameras every 10 minutes on the dot. My backup generators should last me at least a week. I see one approach my front door, it gets caught in the barbed wire I had laid out. I get my polearm stab through the thin wood of my door killing it immediately. I let out a small smirk it's everything I've prepared for.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe coming days are silent, I assume most of the city is no longer with us. My food supplies can last months now but the time will come where I need to get more.\n\nDay in and day out I kill the dead by the dozens, I have to open my door to clean the bodies, that's when it gets most dangerous, but I manage.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nIt's been months now. My food reserves are getting low, luckily I have a plan for that as well. I rigged my car to be sort of a makeshift rc car, I'm going to have the alarm blaring to attract the horde, grab my food and make my way back home. My last few cans are almost empty so today is the day I set out to get more. I use my car and start dragging the smaller numbers from my neighborhood, it's working! The numbers keep growing as they gather around my car I get into the store whilst I hear more footsteps approaching. Luckily there are only a few of the dead within the store I kill them without issue but there's something strange here, what looks to be a pipe bomb lays on the floor with a note that simply states that it's from a friend. I think why not use it, it could be a trap but this may well take out a good chunk of the horde. I light the fuse and lob it at my car, the dead don't seem to notice. A large boom rings out as I see chunks of what once were zombies fly throughout the street.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nSuddenly everything is bright, the whole city lights up once again, the dead simply start fading away. The sky turned from night to day as patterns of hexagons emerge. I think \"is this an alien invasion, is this some government experiment, perhaps some sort of higher being?\" A few of the hexagons go black and form a sort of rectangle as text appears that says \"Scenario 220 successful, congratulations subject #29856. You may leave the dome.\" A large doorway opens in the distance. (Edit: Small grammar issues)" ]	1
	[WP] Every time you flip a coin, your luck can change. Heads for lucky, and tails for unlucky. Today you flipped a coin and it landed on its side.	[ "Hmm. This hasn’t happened before, but maybe.\n\nI blow a bit of air while facing the heads side of the coin. The coin does what’s expected and falls on its side, heads up.\n\nTime for a test.\n\nI go to a corner gas station and buy a lottery scratcher. I’ve just won $1000. I leave and go to a store only to find I’m the 1,000,000,000th customer and receive another $1000.\n\nI guess the coin landing on its side meant that it was your day to choose how it went, and not the coin’s. My date today believed that too.\n\nIf only everyone knew that the whole “Heads for good luck and Tails for bad luck” still worked on a double-head coin." ]	1
	[WP] You're the main investigator of the biggest dictatorship in the last 200 years. Your secret is that you are against them and the higher ups are comming to evaluate your most great project.	[ "It’s not done... IT’S NOT DONE GOD DAMN IT!\n\nI was so close to finally getting home, back to America... Back to my sweet Lucy; it’s been so hard for her after Marinda passed. Now she has to live without a father? How will a 10 year old cope?\n\n...\n\nYes... I know Marinda... She’s a strong girl... But these plans aren’t complete. I didn’t have time to cover up the details. If they find out my real name not only will I be executed but a large scale war will break out. It won’t take them long to figure out these plans are meant to backfire.\n\n...\n\nI don’t think you understand Marinda, I’m going to be publicly lynched... It’s going to be broadcasted world wide.\n\n...\n\nI can hear them now... I think I’ll be joining you soon... My love...\n\n...\n...\n...\n\nGod, please watch over Lucy for me. Keep her safe.\n\n...\n...\n...\n\nGoodbye" ]	1
	[WP] In utopia, sadness is gone, artificially. Anything that causes sadness had been outlawed, and anyone who displays signs of unhappiness are eliminated. You’ve been feeling strange sensations your whole life, and you’ve just learned why. You have depression, and they’re coming to “alleviate” you	[ "\"They told me I was a problem.\"\n\nI responded, 'Why?'\n\n\"For the good of Utopia.\" She said it with a smile. It was a pretty smile but her eyes were dull and unresponsive.\"\n\nSo what did I do?\n\nI went to my room first. Locked the door. Became worried. Some sort of water formed in my eyes. I still don't really get that part I guess. Then I felt hungry. Made a \"U-Topping-for-ya,\" pre-cooked pizza. It's...I guess now that I think about it, it's a strange name. But I never really thought that before.\n\nI remember a knock on my door. The woman was there again. Two men were behind her, each dressed an all-white uniform. Their bodies were large, but their faces...what was on them? A smile? It wasn't anger. It was like someone acting like they were interested, but there was no real novelty.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nShe said, \"It's time to come along. We have a lot in store for you!\"\n\nI said, 'of course.' May I have a few minutes to collect my things?'\n\n\"Oh, you won't even need them,\" she exclaimed.\n\nA thought or two came to me. \"May I go check the mirror for a minute or so? I'd like to make sure I look presentable.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" she said with another smile. Did her tone ever really change in the few hours that I knew her?\n\nSo, what did I do? Nothing interesting. I wrote a quick note and left it in a place my sister would know where to look. It wasn't exciting, simply just, \"I wish I could be happy. Sometimes it's hard. I love you.\" Then I watered my plants and put one of them outside. They deserve a bit more time, even if mine seems to be up. Finally, I put on a comfortable sweater and some nice socks. I wanted to be comfortable, even if I knew I would be forced to change clothes. Oh, I guess I had a drink of water from the tap. It was fast; they still were waiting at the door.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n...And now I'm inside this place. I guess there are a few others like me. \"Would you like me to continue, sir?\"\n\n'Oh, no. Thank you! I think that will be enough! Thank you for your compliance.'\n\n\"Sir, may I ask a question?\"\n\n'Of course! We're here to help you!'\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Please, explain *why.* I still don't understand why.\"", "MESSAGE RECEIVED: THE KEY TO HAPPINESS\n\n02/12/58\n\nMy uncle was a writer, and he was damn good at it. He weaved entire worlds together in his mind, and plucked fantastic stories out of them. In a way, his hobby and eventual career was being a god, manipulating the fabrics of nonexistent lives and lands to deliver the most subtle of messages to whomever was lucky enough to read them. He loved his fantasy worlds, where rather than people there were anthropomorphic animals that lived in kingdoms. But they were never silly, despite how they may seem. They were about all sorts of things, including discrimination, politics, and even the very nature of love. \n\nI have no idea what they were called, but they were great. All I can read of them these days are the manuscripts he left behind. There isn't any physical copies left, if any were even created. Once, these books would have been cultural treasures to be read, enjoyed, and examined. Now, anything of a similar breed is shunned and considered the greatest of taboos, only useful for toilet paper. It's ridiculous. How could something that says so much be considered garbage?\n\nToday, people prefer things simple. Streamlined. Pleasure, directly to their doorstep or desktop, free of complexity or nuance. As I walk home from my 10 hour Factory shift, I almost don't blame them. All I want is something simple too. Dealing with the bullshit that comes with working to produce protein sludge and VR kits is tiring. But I refuse, refuse, to do nothing but go home and plug my mind into one of those goddamn machines. People say it's much better than doing nothing in your tiny apartment pod, or sitting outside breathing in the humid smog, but to them I can only say; you're missing the fucking point.\n\nWe just passed the 15 billion population mark, and I have no idea how people are still breeding like this considering that all they do is use their fucking VR sets. A better reality? Kiss my ass. I dread the next time I'm forced to have that meaningless Disney sludge streamed directly into my head. When was the last time any of you saw something from before the twenties?\n\nI write all this because my parents called me tonight. They asked why I haven't been coming to the Hub. I told them I was tired of the Hub and wanted to read something else. \n\nI guess they figured out that I finally started reading my uncle's manuscripts, and that I figured out, behind all the allegories, there was a very clear message. Now, they've gone and told on me. They think they're helping me, calling the Assistants. They think I'm sick, that my mind is corrupted. They don't seem to understand that they are the brainwashed ones. \n\nThey're coming now, and they're going to help me. Alleviate the \"pain\" that I'm in. And I'm sure they will, in some way or another. But I'm still going to send this message out, along with my uncle's manuscripts. I hope at least a few of you read it, and realise that sadness isn't the problem. Sadness is a normal thing, sadness is a natural thing. In a way, sadness is a good thing. It's another colour of the emotional rainbow, right there alongside all the other things that create a human being. Fear, anger, envy. It's all needed, because if we have nothing but joy, there's no rainbow. There's no harmony. Nothing but a monotone.\n\nLight cannot be truly appreciated until the night comes. Be afraid, and you will discover true happiness.", "What is this feeling?\n\nIt was a question that I'd never gotten a straight answer to. Everyone always got super confused about what I meant. Nobody ever understood.\n\nIt hadn't mattered to me. Or at least that's what I'd told them. Secretly, each time someone failed to understand what the feeling was, it got worse. I didn't know why, and nobody else did either, but it definitely happened. And it sucked.\n\nThe sensations were weird. When I was a young man, maybe 10 or 11 years old, I first felt it. It had started as this nagging thing in the back of my head whenever I was with my friends. Whenever we were playing games together or did homework together, it just appeared. At first, it was something that was easy to ignore, but it got worse every time they left. Every time they would go out of my house and something told me they'd never come back.\n\nBack then, I'd quickly snapped out of it. Of course they'd come back, they were my friends and we had even more fun together. They'd always come back.\n\nBut it got worse. \n\nBy the time I was a teenager, it was something that came up all the time, more than just a nagging feeling. Whenever I was with people, whenever they did something that didn't make me as happy as possible, the nagging got louder and I'd think something that I shouldn't have thought. \n\nNobody else that I'd ever talked to thought these things. Why was I thinking them? What did these thoughts even mean? Why was I questioning it?\n\nQuestions had swirled through my head back then, and to an extent, they still do now, but I've never asked them to anyone. The questions were nonsense, and I knew to dismiss them as such. It was just something crazy I was thinking because I'd had too much fun, that's what I'd convinced myself.\n\nBut it got worse.\n\nBy 18, the nagging was ever-present, always in the back of my head, asking questions that threatened my joy, and making me feel something I couldn't explain. That's when I'd first asked someone about it. I'd asked my mom what it was, I tried to see if she knew what was wrong with me.\n\nBut just like everyone else I'd asked, she didn't know. Every time I tried to describe the questions about my friends, she'd just shrug them off.\n\n'Of course they'll come back, why wouldn't they?' she'd say. 'What do you mean it doesn't make sense? Everything makes sense,' she'd say, and leave it at that. At the time, I hadn't thought to press her about it, what she was saying made sense, they just didn't answer my question. If she didn't understand what I was feeling, then I shouldn't have been feeling it.\n\nI rationalized my own thoughts and just ignored it.\n\nA couple weeks after I'd first asked my mom, my girlfriend had parted with me. She said that she had more happiness while with another man and that she would start being with him. That's how it worked, if she was happier with someone other than me, she should be with him. When she said it to me, I should've been fine, excited even at the opportunity of finding someone who made me even happier, but I wasn't.\n\nFor some reason, all I felt was the weird feeling even more. The nagging in my head, the swirling questions that I couldn't answer, they just got louder.\n\nWhy did she leave me? Was I not making her happy enough? Why was he better than me?\n\nI kept asking myself stupid questions, and I couldn't stop. For an entire week after she'd left, I didn't talk to anyone and my happiness level went down. It wasn't the end of the world, all I had to do was do something that made me happy. Simple. But what didn't make sense was that I didn't want to.\n\nI wanted to eventually though, and that part of my life was left in the past, but the feeling stayed. After months of being not at top happiness, I finally went out with some of my friends and became happy again, but the feeling stayed.\n\nSince then, I've asked a lot of people about the strange feeling in my head, but they've all given me the same answer. The same answer that my mother had given me when I was 18. All they did was look confused and tell me it made no sense. They were right, it did make no sense, there was no logical reason for me not to want to be happy.\n\nBut the feeling begged to differ. As I got older, my rationale stopped making as much sense to me, I stopped wanting to be as happy as I had before. Each time I wanted to be happy, something would block me away and my want would become nothing more than a dream. I still was happy all the time... obviously, but I just wasn't as happy as I had been before.\n\nAnd that's why they were coming to get me. Apparently, the feeling I had was called 'depression' and it was a very rare condition. It was something that affected only a couple of people every year and it was something that could easily be cured. \n\nWhen I'd mentioned the feeling to my doctor a couple days ago, he'd been extremely helpful. He'd said that it was just something a little wrong in my head and that it could be taken care of in an instant. He'd sent me on my way with a prescription for some pills, and a promise to get my condition 'alleviated' as soon as possible.\n\nEver since then, I'd been taking the pills twice per day as he'd recommended, and I'd been feeling a lot better. Today was the day that they were supposed to come to alleviate me and I was happy about it.\n\nThe prospect of taking the nagging feeling away and bringing my wants back was great. I was anticipating the alleviation heavily and, for the first time in my life, things were looking up.\n\n---\n\nFeelings from the Bookshelf of the Gods. /r/BoTG\n\n&nbsp;\n" ]	3
	[WP] You live in a post-apocalyptic future, where nearly everyone on earth has died of a mysterious powerful plague. You decide to go back to find when it all started, and hope to stop it. Then you realize that you carried the plague with you.	[ "\\[cw: family death, language\\] all roads to the misfortune's origin suspended me from traveling. as a \"retro\"viral carrier, the transmission is in the past, an original shaking of hands or speaking in whisper over pork fat (like a family meal). impossible to find the pig farm of where the first suckling of disease began. instead, it will be a failed mission of retrospection. swollen once with a daughter, to see myself in that doubled vigor before her little hands shook of illness years later brought me into a shell, a deserted kindness wrapped in sea-worn layers like the lonely mollusk spinning in the undertow. the shiver televised on future news takes hold. i wander streets of callow passengers, time bound innocence, something my daughter will come to lose. if the plague hadn't killed us, time travel would. the government back home is expecting results while they cough on ass-worn threadbare thrones. i will have nothing to bring back, but i will leave nothing here. just the trace of a lost parent, taking count of the cobble i used to walk over.", "We broke barriers that day, a brilliant scientist.\nPossibly a mad scientist? I dunno how he was feeling emotionally that day. What I do know however is that on that day we realized that time travel was indeed possible.\nAnd the possibilities were endless for a moment. Then the governments of the world began to attempt to regulate the usage, because despite the fact that the majority of the world hadn't noticed anything, a few special people dubbed \"sages\" seemed to retain the knowledge of altered timelines. Turns out we were subtly fucking things up. Turns out that adrian brody (who doesn't technically exist yet.) Somehow managed to become the first instance of the grandfather paradox. Bruce Willis managed to go back in time and \"borrow\" his younger self to make the movie looper. Which ended up being a good film in and of itself. However from what I can tell from the scribes writings, it appears that in a different version of now die hard was actually a \"Christmas movie\" but due to bruce's arrogance we screwed the pooch on that one....\n\nThe plague was brutal quick and efficient. \nIt mutated one night from a strain of syphillis picked up from Al Capone carried on the gentials of a few class acts before making it's way to marilyn monroe. Who died before she could ever get the chance to become famous now.\nShe lived well and was taken care of generously by an obsessed sage who had seen her in a different now. Upon seeing that she wasn't anyone now decided he'll settle in as her husband. \nBut alas syphillis can be passed through from mother to child. The child lived to be thirty-four years old. As the sage had knowledge from the future to assist in a treatment. He sat with the child and injected malaria into the boy.\nThe malaria burned out the majority of the syphilis however like with most forms of life, it's always a battle for survival. \n\nSurvival of the fittest, a generalized concept to describe how something goes from a single cell to well.. all known life today. Little mutations to help one to survive, eyes to better see, ears to better hear... a thick skin to keep the blood in.\n\nEverything seems to go by this rule. Even syphilis \nAs a result of this so called treatment this child carried a version of syphilis capable of ending humanity. Luckily for us they had a proclivity for eating radon bread. A slow decay of matter that ultimately saved humanity once upon a time. \n\nBut not now... upon digging deeper these seemingly unrelated things all intertwined to become what can only really be described as the apocalypse. 95% of humanity wiped out over the course of 12 weeks. Most of the survivors were those who lived in areas so remote that more often than not each individual group believed themselves to be alone. Much like I did when I first awoke.\n\nThe world had been slowly falling apart, but yet when I ran down to the coffee shop for some more coffee there was still a fellow working there. He looked like shit. Obviously desperate for money, healthcare where I was was expensive and depressing. I had my coffee though, I sipped it trying to convince myself that the hot water would be enough to kill anything before I ingested it. I walked a few blocks through mostly empty streets at one point I came across an old Asian woman slowly sweeping off the street on front of her shop. She moved slowly and looked a bit gaunt, I couldn't tell if she was also sick or just old. Almost as if she read my mind she looks up towards me with a look I would say was sour. \nIt didnt bug me though, I kept walking. \n\nAfter an hour my coffee was cold And I still hadn't found randy, he was a bum that hung out downtown. And despite the city slowly dying as the people did. Randy did okay for himself. Already accustomed to scrounging for survival he had quickly started taking up residence in different abandoned buildings around the area. \nI start heading southwest towards the casino,\nIt's still lit up vibrantly showing no signs of just how empty it truly was inside. \n\nWalking through the brightly lit mini mall I work my way towards the smoke shop. The last few days the owner himself has stopped showing up. \nHe was a good fellow. Understood the importance \nOf quality, always had a good recommendation for cigarillos. I already kind of missed the guy, always had a joke ready and not like a quick knock knock joke, but like that one with the radio and the polar bear. Just thinking of some of his jokes brought a smile to my face as I went through the inventory looking for another couple vanilla flavored cigarillos. I stopped and peeked my \nHead out of the shop looking for any other people, satisfied with what I saw I lit up one of my cigarillos and proceeded to the card tables. If theres anything left to count on its addiction..\nTheres a small group playing cards even now. \n4 of them, drinking and smoking laughing about things. If it weren't for the absolute lack of others around you'd almost think it was just another Wednesday. I shout over to Frank.\n\"Hey bud, another day with no symptoms. Mind if I join you guys?\" \nFrank looks up, tossing his cards on the table and walks over to me. Frank is almost 100% what you would picture for a guy named Frank.\nHe steps in real close and sniffs me. \"Its wierd, you smell like the sickly.... but your not showing any symptoms, look up.\"\nI look at the roof as Frank fondles my neck and throat feeling for swollen nodes.\n\"Yeah you're clear, want a drink? Were out of rhum but theres still plenty of beer.\"\nI decline as we walk back over to the table.\n\"Did doctor frank give you the all clear?\" A little voice comes over the intercom. I look into the security cameras with a big smile and a thumbs up. \n\nAs I sit and look around the table I notice that simone is looking particularly tired today. \" you good simone?\" \nHe just sighs as he gets up and wanders off..\n\"Her dog died\" Jackson pipes up.\nJackson had to be all of 16 years old. Likely I never would have known the kid otherwise, but having met him I'm glad I did. The little shit was a criminal by all definitions having stolen, assaulted,\nBurned, even killed people. Which sounds terrible but the kid knew and was actually attempting to quarantine the plague before it became a plague. Little did he know at the time that he missed patient zero by about 4.8 million. \nI felt bad for the kid yet he never was sour about the whole thing. Justified it as he was trying to do good.\nHe launches into a bit of dialogue going off about how the government wants this to happen and that theres a giant conspiracy by the uber rich to take over the earth, that they have a cure hidden away somewhere. Nobody interrupts him, everyone just continues on playing seemingly welcoming the noise.\n\"FUCK!\" Simone shouts from behind the bar. \n\"Are we out of schnapps?!\" She pops up shouting across the room. \nFrank busts out a walkie talkie. \n\"I'm gonna go do a perimeter check, everything appears to be clear down here if you could bring some more liquor down.\"\n\"SCHNAPPS\"\nFrank proceeds out of the room. As simone keeps digging through the bar. A familiar face enters. \nShe's always been beautiful to me, just personal preference I guess. Jackson liked to compare her to a horse like a douchebag. But something about her... just makes me feel good when shes around. \n\"Here's your schnapps\" she tosses it over to simone who promptly downs half the bottle before wandering over to the one slot machine still hooked up to electricity... \n\nShe sits as she grabs one of the cigarillos from my pile of \"winnings\" \nAs she puffs one of the cigarillos to life she passes it to me to have a drag, \"y'know smoking will kill you right?\"\nI almost turned and launched into a rant before I look up to see her smiling obviously amused at her own little joke. I pass it back. \"Do you know if Trevor's still kicking it?\" \n\"Havent seen him around, why?\" She looks a little concerned. As she takes another couple puffs. \n\"Because that paranoid fucker has a little grow op going on and I just know he'll stay alive through the apocalypse to guard it. Crazy bastard just doesn't die either, pretty sure he's been shot like 9 times.\" \n\"Oh\" she raises one eyebrow at me with this equally inquisitive and amused look, made me indescribably happy as I lost my train of thought. \n\"You probably don't need to smoke pot you're already slow\" poking me in the forehead as she spoke. \n\"No just distracted\" I smile in an attempt to avoid any discussion of feelings, I'm too afraid to say anything about it because I don't want to become attached to anyone seeing as it's pretty much the end of the world as we know it. \n\n** notes-- firstly this seems jumpy, been writing through the day everytime I have to wait for something. I'm posting so later once I'm done work I can edit and work out how to give Bruce Willis and adrian brody syphilaids. Not to mention a consistent story on terms of how I get the character back in time and fucking bitches passing out that syphilaids, maybe a catalyst scenario with the whole thing being dormant or something... I dunno see how it goes. ", "\"Are you sure it even happened around this time?\" Sam asked, wiping sweat from his forehead, poring through the paperwork in front of him.\n\n\"Yes! Yes, it starts around this year! But apparently it was so unprecedented that there wasn't technology for it!\"\n\n\"Ok, but,\" he blinked hard and looked up, losing focus. He blinked again, wiping sweat from his forehead, \"what are you gonna do about it?\" \n\n\"I told you, I brought all the antidotes for diseases that came after this year. And that was hard enough to do by itself, so I'm trying to make this all worth it. The world as we know it really falls apart.\"\n\n\"And instead of helping people with your technology--\" he swallowed hard, and his face was getting red, \"you decided to come back to the past and probably create a paradox where you couldn't help the future?\" \n\n\"Sam, are you really judging me for trying to save billions of people? Likely your own life, as well!\" I said, throwing another file into the garbage. None of these diseases were new. \n\n\"How do you even know we'll find it in these stupid files?\" he said, weakly.\n\n\"I am certain that it starts up in a hospital in this very city. And going through each of their records has got to match with symptoms of what the disease caused in the future. Does that not make sense too--\" I finally looked up and got a good look at Sam. He was pale white and using the desk heavily to support his weight. \n\n\"Hey, are you okay?\" I asked.\n\nHis eyes were glazed, but he looked deeply at the immunizations records in front of him. \n\n\"Describe the disease again..\" he said, with a very interesting tone.\n\n\"Well, it eventually gave everyone panencephalitis. Which was fatal to anyone that got it since it was a very aggressive form of it.\"\n\n\"And that's caused by measles...\" he said, looking even more intrigued at the immunization form.\n\n\"Well, yeah, but why are you so interested in those forms! We need to use the important files!\"\n\n\"But don't you see!\" his voice was getting raspy. \"If someone isn't vaccinated for measles, they might be the culprit of it! This might be the key!\"\n\n\"Vaccines!?\" I said, taken aback. \"That's pseudo science. Just government propaganda. I'm not vaccinated,\" I said, proudly.\n\nHis eyebrows drew close as he had the most disgusted look crawl upon his face. He blinked hard and he struggled to retain focus. \n\n\"You... you aren't vaccinated?\" he whispered with wonder.\n\n\"Nope!\" I smiled, waiting for his praise.\n\nHis eyes were inflamed. I couldn't tell if he was starting to get sick or if he was gonna start crying. \n\n\"And...\" he coughed dryly. \"We went through all the hospitals in the area... Walked the streets... with what might be a stronger form of...\" he trailed off as he closed his eyes with a look of defeat on his face.\n\n\"I don't get it, what's the problem?\" Suddenly it clicked. \"You're a pro-vaxer, aren't you?\" I took a step back, hoping he wouldn't touch me. \"That's why you look so sick!\"\n\nHe didn't answer, simply remained with his eyes closed. But his nose began running as if to answer my question for me. \n\n\"Disgusting. I better get back to my time before I get infected by your past vaccine diseases. Good luck finding the disease on your own, idiot.\"\n\nI grabbed my bag of the antidotes -- wholistic herbal remedies -- and left.\n\n________________________________________________________\n\nFor more idiotic protagonists, come on down to /r/Nazer_The_Lazer!" ]	3
	[WP] At 26 , you take a "special" drink to eliminate the sensation of pain. Over the course of next year, you win numerous fights to become a world champion boxer. You are horrified to find out that the drink didn't eliminate pain; it just delayed the sensation by exactly one year.	[ "I was at home. After all, where else did I have to be? Within the last year, I had won practically every trophy, every award there was to win. I had boxed, I had wrestled. I got into countless fights, and I won every single one of them. The press coverage alone was mind boggling. \"The Unbeatable Man\", they called me. That was an accurate enough title, I supposed.\n\nBut nothing, not the press, not the medals, not the money, nothing was worth what happened a year after I drank that potion. \n\nI was at home, laying on the couch. It was a Sunday, and I had a conference of some kind the next day- I had no idea what. My agent handled the specifics. So, for the most part, I was worry free. Something was playing on the TV, I can't remember for the life of me what it was, mostly because when I stood up to go get a beer from the kitchen, my life became a living hell.\n\nIt came slowly, at first. I began to ache. The kind of ache you get when you aheva bad, bad flu. But the aching grew, until it felt as if my muscles, my bones, my skin, they all felt as if they were about to snap. I stumbled, and braced myself against the kitchen counter. The aching multiplied, the pain becoming an exponential curve that I was subject to. As the aching grew to mind-numbing severity, my head began to throb.\n\nI've had migraines my whole life. Bad ones. So I know what bad headaches feel like. This was not a headache. It felt like my skull itself was being eaten away, as if I was rotting away from the inside. My head pounded, and my eyes began to fail me. It was as if my brain couldn't process my vision and the pain at the same time. My skull was full of molten lead, each of my teeth individual bombs, each blasting a thousand times every second.\n\nI fell to my knees as my torso caught up with me. As my muscles tore, and my head burned, my innards began to churn. I could've sworn I felt everything major organ in my stomach rupture, as my entire torso was subject to a vicious, unending barrage of pain. It was a full, brutal pounding that made me wish I was hollow.\n\nI was curled up on the ground now, my entire body a canvas on which the universe painted a beautiful display of agony. Pain was a symphony, and I was its concert hall. It filled my entire being, subjecting every cell in my body to a year's worth of torment.\n\nI lied there for hours.\n\nWhen it began to fade, it took a few minutes for my senses to return to me. Sight came first, and I could see from the window of my apartment the Monday morning sunrise. Hearing, then. The harsh tones of a news anchor over the television. I could taste the inside of my mouth, and smelled the pristine tile floor. Then, I could feel. From my core, the sensation of touch spread throughout my body. The receding tide of pain eventually left my body, and I was left there on the floor. I almost couldn't believe it. \n\nI sat up slowly, looking at the palms ofy hands, and my arms, and my legs. I was uninjured, somehow. I raised a hand to the counter to pick myself up, and brought my palm swiftly down onto a thumbtack that had been laid down on the smooth granite. It pierced my skin.\n\n\"Ow!\"" ]	1
	[WP] You wake up naked in the middle of a field. You don't remember who you are or how you got there. Nothing looks familiar, not even the grass. In the sky seems to be a blue sun. Next to you, a stone tablet engraved with writing in a language you don’t recognize. You hear a distant buzzing sound.	[ "(I swear I meant for this to be short. I got extremely carried away, very long. I can reader’s digest it if anyone cares.)\n\nThe first thing I noticed was that it was bright, a blue light burning against my eyelids. An attempt to open my eyes was met with pain as my freshly awoken, unadjusted eyes were met with the light of one of the brightest things in the known universe, a star. This caused me to realize I was outside, which brought a cascade of other realizations. I was laying on top of grass and I was naked. I covered my eyes with my hands and opened them, slowly allowing light in so my vision would adjust. \n\nWhy had I woken up here? There was no sequence of events my brain could follow that led me here. In fact, there was no sequence of events in my brain at all. Just information, definitions, how to act, how to speak German, French, Spanish, Mandarin. I knew of the existence of presidents, countries, the internet, social media, books, television. However I had no memory of learning about or interacting with any of it. I knew that the United States of America was an English speaking, democratic country. I knew that the internet was accessible from a computer, smartphone and tablet but I didn’t remember ever using it. I knew that if someone sneezed you were supposed to say “bless you”, or “gesundheit”. I had a memory of a world where people existed but no memory of the people, even myself. \n\nWas this a test? An experiment? An accident? Had I existed before this? Had I done this to myself? I had an endless amount of questions and a disappointingly empty list of answers. By this time I had stood up and noticed a large stone. It was smooth, I felt like it was man made for some reason which instinctively caused me to pick it up and examine it. The side that had been facing the ground was carved into, etched with some seemingly mindless pattern. But then I began to come to a conclusion, it was words, symbols I didn’t know for a language I didn’t recognize. \n\nThen I had a crisis about what was real, because the sun was blue. I knew that the sun shouldn’t be blue, however I also knew that vampires, werewolves and zombies weren’t real, but I also knew that the sun was not blue. Maybe I was on a different planet or in a different universe. Maybe the sun had become blue. Maybe information I thought was true was not true, or information that I thought was not true was true. I eventually decided that all of this was irrelevant, I was standing in an empty field with a rock carved with a language I didn’t know. I would not find answers by searching my own thoughts, I needed to find someone else. I didn’t have to believe them or trust them, I just needed a starting point that wasn’t myself. \n\nThen I noticed the buzzing. A low sound far off in the distance. It sounded like it was coming from behind me, but when I turned to face it there was nothing. A field of grass with rolling hills in the distance. Then it sounded like it was behind me again. Whenever I turned to face it, the sound moved behind me. The noise grew, like it was getting closer, and then it sounded like it was inches from the back of my skull. I began to panic, spinning rapidly to try and see it, waving my arms behind my head to try and bat it away or make it stop. When I slumped to the ground, exhausted and defeated it settled in, a low buzz. I imagined this was how tinnitus must feel, but instead of a medical explanation it just fuelled growing paranoia. \n\nI began a journey, to leave these grassy plains and find something else. Preferably someone, maybe they could make the buzzing stop. I took the stone with me, maybe somebody could translate it. As I walked I delved back into my thoughts. I deduced that knowledge could not be gained without teaching or observation. As such I either existed before and through some event, accidental or intentional, my, someone else’s or some deity’s fault, lost my memories of people or had been created by an entity and given this information. \n\nThe sun peaked in the sky and began going down. I’d started to thirst and to hunger. The stone I carried grew heavier with each passing step. The hope that swelled within me died with the crest of each hill that grew steeper and steeper. All the while the buzzing carried on, pushing at my sanity. \n\n“Can you stop?” I screamed, turning to face the noise that haunted me. \n\nIt followed, keeping its place right behind my head. I screamed again, this time not words just noises. I fell to my knees and clutched my head, my fragile sanity beginning to snap. But then I noticed print on my arm. A tattoo on my right inner forearm, in an all to familiar array of symbols. How had I not noticed it before?It ran the length of my forearm, from the inner elbow to my wrist. My wrist had a circular design on it with four points and a star-like symbol in the middle. I examined it, comparing it to the stone I had carelessly thrown to the ground in my moment of rage. It was the same language, of this I was sure. I began trying things, maybe this tattoo and rock could allow me to read, or make things the way they were before, or end the buzzing. After various attempts at waving my hand around, holding my tattoo up to the rock and trying to read I decided to hold my hand above the rock and push the words out. My shock when a gleaming metal blade flew from my wrist caused me to drop the tablet and flail, luckily not catching my hand on the knife. It was a light blue metal, a throwing knife with the blade being bigger than the handle. I picked it up to look at it and found three words. The words were engraved into the blade portion, a beautiful cursive font. Then there was an underline, clearly done after the fact in a jagged harsh line. Three words:\n\n“Don’t forget her”", "I fought the debilitating grogginess and squinted at the tablet that towered over me. It was an enormous slab of stone covered in unfamiliar squiggles and shapes; I couldn't even begin to guess what language it could be. Come to think of it, I couldn't remember what language I spoke. And that wasn't all; I was also trying to puzzle out where the hell I was, why the hell the sun was blue, and why I was naked in the middle of a grassy field when a distant buzzing sound caught my attention.\n\nI looked around for some sort of aircraft, maybe a helicopter - but the sky was empty, cloudless, and, oddly enough, green. I realized that I would probably have better vantage point if I actually stood up.\n\nMy whole body felt sore, as if I had been running a marathon. I couldn't find any obvious wounds on me - no cuts or burns - and nothing felt broken or sprained. I was just very lethargic, both in mind and body. There was a small headache brewing behind my left eye, and somehow I knew that that was due to a lack of coffee. I licked my dry lips. Actually, even water sounded really good right now; my throat felt like paper.\n\nI took another look around now; still, no helicopters, but I had been wrong about assuming an empty sky. There was a small, tan cloud on the horizon to the...west? That was the opposite of the sun, right? Well, I guess that depended on what time of the day it was - another frustrating unknown. \n\nI glanced back at the indecipherable tablet, and realized it was not alone. In fact, I standing in the middle of a sort of haphazard circle of similarly designed structures, some with writing and some without. I was standing the middle of some sort of ruins; it reminded me of Stonehenge. Hm. Now why do I remember that but not how I got here?\n\nThere was something out of place leaning against one of the structures; it was shiny, like metal, and rectangular with crisp corners. Modern, unlike these ruins. I hesitated at first, but curiosity got the better of me: I went forward and touched it gingerly. It was definitely metal, but that's all I got before it began to beep and light up with several colored lights. I yelped and jerked back as it became perfectly horizontal, rose up in the air until it was about knee-height, and then quietly stayed there, as if waiting. I waited impatiently for it do something else, but nothing seemed to happen. \n\nThe droning buzz distracted me then, as it had gotten even louder - and, coincidentally, the cloud on the horizon had gotten much larger. I stared at it. It was surprisingly dynamic; parts of it shrank and grew rapidly, as it were an organism moving its arms. In fact, the whole thing reminded me of something...\n\nThen it hit me. Insects. It wasn't a cloud, it was a huge swarm of insects zooming right toward me. \n\nI took a step back, trying not to panic. My leg bumped against the hovering thing, and it beeped softly in response. I stared at it quizzically, but an idea blossomed in my head. Well, one way to find out...\n\nWith one hand on a nearby stone tablet for support, i hoisted myself onto the metal board, mentally preparing myself to fall on the ground any second. But the board not only held my weight, but it...held my feet, so to speak. Not with any straps, but I felt an invisible force gloving my feet and halfway up my legs. The sensation was strangely...familiar. \n\nBut I didn't have to muse over it right now - the swarm had gotten close enough that I could just about see the individual insects darting around frantically. I faced the opposite direction, toward the blue sun, grimaced and thought, well, I better get out of here.\n\nAs soon as the thought materialized in my brain, the board zoomed forward, carrying me along with it.\n\n\n\nLiked that story? Want more like it? Check out r/Idreamofdragons!" ]	2
(This is my first Writing Prompt, I'll be happy for any feedback)	[WP] You lived in a cyborg society. Everyone is a robot. That is until you cut yourself and see blood.	[ "I was coming back from school. I was walking on the sidewalk with my friends. We were talking about how weird it was 200 years ago, when people lived without wires. I turned the corner to go home. My friends went the other way. I walked into the usual bustle of my neighborhood, New York's Uptown. Suddenly, I saw people running toward me. I threw myself on the ground as people ran around me, down the street. I knew everybody was gone, and slowly stood up.\n\nI looked ahead. I saw a gang of robbers and thieves, and in front of them, the notorious Mobster Old Skin Jack. We learned about him a week ago in class, one of the last remaining Hoomans. I started running the other way. \"Oh No, I got to protect my motherboard!\" We learned also that he and his loyal minions destroy cyborgs, and violently stole our batteries and wires. Suddenly, I ran right into a low sign. \"Ah!\" I fell on the ground, scrunching up. I saw a small pool of red around me. It looked like this stuff called blood in Hoomans. Then, I fainted. \n\nWhen I woke up, I found myself in a dark room, dusty room. I heard talking. These 3 black figures stood near me. \"It's been a long time since we have found an individual like him.\" Said one of them, in a deep, menacing voice. \"I wonder what we'll do with him. What do you think, Johnny?\" Said another. The third, Johnny, responded, \"He's important, Black Eye. We've got to protect him against them horrible 8-Bits.\" I pondered for a sec, who is important? It certainly couldn't be me, could it? Right then, Johnny looked at me, then at the others. \"Oh, he's awake, guys.\" They walked toward me. Johnny and 'Black Eye' stopped, but the 1st figure kept walking. \"Hello.\" He said to me. \"What do you want, why am I here?\" I said back. \"You are a special fellow, son. What's your name there?\" \"Randy, sir. But, who are you?\" I answered. \"Why, I'm Jack.\" He stuck his hand out at me. \"What are you doing?\" I exclaimed. \"Uh, A hand shake Randy?\" \"Well ok...\" I shook his hand. \n\n\"This might surprise you, but you're human.\" Said Black Eye.\n\"Your gunna have to join our ranks!\" Said Johnny.\n\"Your life's going to change, Randy.\" Old Skin Jack. \n\nAnd, oh, my life changed. Yes it did.\n\n\n", "(WP) Child of Steel\n\nIt happened when she fell down and cut her knee; the skin had torn off, and she’d been expecting dark, thick oil streaming down her leg. But instead, bright blood dripped like liquid rubies down her leg.\n\nShe didn’t understand it; their entire society had weeded out humans, more than a century ago now. There were no persons that had any human left. But this was what she knew as blood, the facts speeding through her brain, and her pain receptors firing.\n\nHow was it possible that she had human blood? She looked around her; luckily, this area was so far away from the capital that hopefully no one had seen. But even as she turned away from the barren, rocky wasteland and began to power up to go home, her mind would not quiet.\n\nBeing human—any trace of human culture at all—was a crime, in this day and age. After the bloody wars between men, machines, and the union of both, resulting in the birth of the cyborg race, the humans had all been eliminated. Their blind emotion had led to the slaughter of thousands, and so the robotic government had taken action, quietly and swiftly.\n\nEvery human had been slaughtered, and the cyborgs took their place. But the highest in the pecking order (XS-12 had been studying up on human idioms, out of curiosity and boredom.) were the ones that lingered, that were all machines. They were as gods in the here and now.\n\nTheir word was law, and the first one was no humans. Even what knowledge she’d gleaned was illegal, and somehow, through what reasonings she couldn’t understand, she’d always been resistant to the routine brain scans throughout the day. It hadn’t been anything alarming when she was a child; everyone had hoped that it was just a glitch.\n\nShe felt something connecting, clicking and whirring and coming together like puzzle pieces. Something about her was not normal, not routine, not if she was bleeding anything but the standard motor oil. She wiped it up as best she could, pocketing the handkerchief and beginning to run back toward the city, toward home.\n\nIn order to distract herself from this startling revelation, she concentrated on running, on moving her feet, one after another. She enjoyed physical exercise, even if she didn’t actually require it to function. Too soon, she arrived at her home, a sleek steel and glass structure that was in the middle of the Capitol, where she lived with her caretakers.\n\nEvery robot not of age was by law required to have a pair of caretakers to usher them into adulthood, and take care of their needs before they grew old enough to be independent. XS-12 was fortunate to have two pure robots as her parents, YG-07 and MB-14. They’d taken her in when she was still a young child, the memory of her real parents difficult to recall; every time she’d tried, she’d received nothing but blurry, black and white static for her efforts.\n\nHad it been possible that her parents had been lying to her? Keeping secrets from her? The thought made her dizzy, and as she stepped through the door, she’d had to put a hand to the wall next to it to hold herself upright.\n\nThe little apartment unit was empty, the whirring and clicking sounds of her parents absent. She didn’t know where they were, and right now, she didn’t care. \n\nShe just wanted to know the truth, about who she was, and why this was happening.\n\n\\\\" ]	2
	[WP] Your cat often brings you dead birds, mice and other "gifts". You usually shun these, disgusted by the display. One day, you open you door and see your mailman laying dead on the porch. Your cat is standing on top of him and says, "Are you pleased now, Master?"	[ "“Blair!” I look at this majestic beast as she quickly grooms her face. \n\n“Surprised?” she asks as she hopped off the mailman’s body and came to rub herself against my legs.\n\nI could only stare in silence, thinking about how I should take action. They never taught us about this in college... \n\n“Honestly I think I’m more surprised about you bringing me a mailman over the talking portion of this. Did you even think this one through?!”\n\nBlair stops at my feet and sits down. She gazes up with a confused look on her face. \n\n“Well I guess... I guess I didn’t”. \n\nI smack my forehead. “Well it looks like we’ll have to take care of this situation before the neighbors have a chance to see what you’ve done! Any ideas genius?!”\n\nBlair ponders for a moment. “I mean the dumpster is right over there, that is where you put all my other gifts”. \n\n“BLAIR WE CAN’T JUST PUT THE MAILMAN IN THE DUMPSTER”.\n\n“Wish you cared about the disposal of other creatures the way you care about this silly human”.\n\nI roll my eyes and run inside to gather some sheets to put over the body. I suppose that’s a good step one, as good as any. \n\n“Can’t we just turn him into cat food? He seems like he could make a tasty pâté,” Blair stated as she gave an uncovered finger a nibble. \n\n“No no no no! Tell you what, I’ll just throw the body into the trunk and throw it over the bridge, ok? If I don’t get rid of the body NOW, then we’re screwed!” \n\nBlair sits and gives a little huff. “Fine, but I’m coming with”. \n\nI race to my car and pull it around the front. I glance around to make sure the coast is clear. Everything looks in check, so I open the trunk and leave my car running. As I’m running back up to my door to retrieve the body, my Landlord’s kid pops up out of nowhere. \n\n“Whatcha up to?!” She chimes. Fortunately she’s only four, but this was still an awkward moment. “What’s that on your porch?”\n\n“It’s an... art project! I need to go turn it in today before it’s due!” \n\n“But it’s Saturday! There’s no school on Saturday!”\n\n“Well college is different! Gotta go, stay safe, do school, don’t get a cat, bye!” I said as I hastily and awkwardly started dragging this dead body towards the open trunk of my car. \n\nThe little girl just stood and watched with a puzzled look on her face as my cat followed me and jumped into the passenger seat. \n\n“Woah slow down! Watch what you’re doing!” Blair yoweled as she shook around as I maneuvered through back streets. \n\n“Cry me a river,” I said as I quickly approached the bridge. “Perfect just as I thought, no people around. We’ll go to the other side and throw him”. \n\nI try to park as close to the bridge as possible. Blair and I hopped out of the car, and I drug the body out of the trunk. It took a few minutes, and a lot of grunting, but I drug the body to a portion of the bridge where I thought I could drop it pretty safely. \n\nIt took all my strength, but I got the body up and over the railing. As it was precariously balanced, I counted down, “one... two... THREE!”\n\nI gave it the final push it needed, and with that there was my mailman, plummeting 500 feet to the river below. " ]	1
	[WP] You have the power to time travel. You have used it to fix all of your mistakes. However, you are now realizing that life is meaningless without mistakes.	[ "It was like the setup to a joke, \"A somber man walks into a bar\". Yet that was where I found myself, entering a pub at 11:00 on a Thursday. It was a lazy night; the bartender was wiping the counter because he needed something to do, as his three customers sat spaced around the room. Two sat quietly in booths against the wall, one, an obvious alcoholic, at the bar. The bartender looked up as I walked in, shaping me up very accurately as a sad sap. I pulled up a stool.\n\n\"What'll it be?\" He asked kindly. He wore a clean polo, and seemed non-threatening. \"Whiskey. I don't care what kind. Just something hard.\" He pulled a glass and the bottle up from below the counter. \"What's got you down? You look like your wife just left you or something\" he spoke as he poured. I chuckled, bitterly, \"Yeah, something like that.\" Truth was, I had gone back to before I had started dating the girl who would be my wife to stop it. It was about three years before I would have filed the divorce, three years of misery. \"Today's the twenty-third, isn't it?\" \"As it just so happens, it is.\" The bartender placed my drink in front of me, but I merely stared at it a moment. It would have been our anniversary, or rather our wedding day. \n\n\"You know,\" the bartender said as he leaned on the counter, \"You don't look much like the drinking type.\" \"I'm not,\" it was one of the things I had gone back to fix, \"but, hell, might as well bust myself up a bit.\" Bottoms up. The biting flame wove its way down my throat, a sensation of the better times. \"Well, why do you say that?\" He asked as he refilled my glass. \"Well, I've got a big house, spare cash to the moon, four cars. I've never been in a bad relationship, never got in a car accident, never got in trouble with the law, never flunked a class. I've never drunk- until today- never smoked. I've never embarrassed myself or hurt anyone else. I've gone around the world, I've met people, I've met God at church. I've learned to draw, to paint, to sculpt, to make music, to write poetry, to write books, to fly a helicopter, to speak, read, and write Latin, and Mandarin, and French, and Spanish. I got the chance to say goodbye to my mother before she died, and to my best friend before he moved away.\" I drained it again, \"So what's there left to do but drink?\"\n\nHe stopped for a moment, deep in thought. \"It sounds like you've done everything, and been everywhere. Like a perfect life, something of a dream life.\" \"More like a nightmare.\" \"Well, it seems like you have a lot to be thankful for, at least.\" \"Maybe, but I don't see a reason to be thankful,\" I sighed, \"If everything's perfect, what's the point.\" \"So, let me get this straight,\" He leaned a little lower, and lowered his voice, \"You've done everything right? You got a great job, a lot of money, a perfect record, and no regrets, and you're still unhappy?\" \"Pretty much.\" \"Do you have a woman?\" \"I did, but not any more. That's not the problem, though.\" \"I getcha. Want another round?\" \"Hell, why not?\" He poured it, then put away the whiskey. I merely swirled it in my glass, looking longingly at the amber liquid for something I couldn't find.\n\n\"Well, I've had more girls than I can count, and I've got one now. 'course, she doesn't know I've had so many.\" He smiled as he looked at the ceiling, remembering, \"There was Jenny, Susie, Haley, Phoebe... God, and Bethany was smokin' hot. An eleven if I've seen one. Shallow and dumb, but pretty. I played football in high school, so I guess they must have found that attractive. Was the only reason I kept playing after Freshman year. I failed class after class, but I didn't care so long as I picked up chicks- most of which lasted about a month before we broke up. Then I left high school with no plan, and my parents more or less kicked my sorry hind out. I worked odd jobs, shoplifted clothes and food. Got thrown in jail for it, but that didn't stop me for long. Still didn't have a plan, still didn't have a family. But I had about two-hundred in savings, so that was good enough. I thought about enlisting, I drank, I smoke. I was a mess, and an idiot. But you don't need a degree to work a bar, and that must have been what old Mr. Todd thought when he hired me. He took me in, gave me this job, a place to stay, and trust. He helped me stop smoking, and control my drinking. He taught me how to handle money, and how to handle people. Now, I'm planning on buying this bar from him when he retires in a few years here. Working two jobs to put money away for it. I turned my life around, and you know how long I've been with my girlfriend now? Three years. Three years.\"\n\n\"That sounds great,\" I said, jealously slightly apparent in my voice, \"I wish I could have a life more like yours.\"\n\n\"Well, I know most people would still call you lucky, but I wouldn't trade my life for the world. My suggestion to you: split your cash, save some of it, give away the rest of it. Quit your job. Take chances, make mistakes. Get a girl, get a family. You've got one shot at life, and the only way to live is on the edge.\"I thought hard for a moment. I would have to give up time travel, but for some reason I felt fine with that. I put my still-full glass back down, pulled out my wallet, put down ten for the drinks and held five twenties, \"You know, I think you're on to something man. Here, since I'm going to be giving it away anyways, I want you to have this.\"\n\nThe bartender held up his hand and stopped mine. \"Tell you what. I'll take twenty. That's all I need.\" \"If you say so.\" \n\nI got up to leave, and as I did another man entered the bar, \"Jamie!\" The bartender said, \"You know what today is?\" \"I do,\" the man grinned ear-to-ear, \"day one-hundred, alcohol free!\" \"And to celebrate,\" the bartender said, \"I've got twenty dollars for pizza, with all the fixings. Whaddya say we get it delivered here to celebrate?\" \"I can't ask you to pay for it alone-\" \"Jamie, my treat. You've earned it!\" Jamie smiled, \"You know, I wouldn't be here without your support.\" \"We all need someone to lean on, Jamie. Now pull up a seat, let's get the party going...\" " ]	1
	[WP] The sun begins its final phase and the world will end sooner than we thought. We did not create FTL travel but we did perfect cryostasis. To allow humanity to live on, we launch several human cryopods in into the depths of space before the Earth dies. You have just awoken from your pod.	[ "Fog surrounds your mind as you force your eyelids open and immediately regret it. Bright operation lamps shine on your naked body and with the loud screech of mechanics that no one bothered to clean for thousands of years, the coffin that was your home since the big escape slidee out of its holdings.\nYou cannot tell what time it is, you cannot say how long you slept. Next to you, one thousand two hundred ninety four other sleepers awake. You are the oldest living human beings in the entire universe.\nIn the spaceship orbiting what you hope is your new life, there is no gravity, and so inertia pushes you away from the cryopod. You turn around, still half asleep, and drift towards the window. It is a silicium dioxide-lead alloy that blocks dangerous ultra violet rays, thicker than your head. It's the one thing that protects you from the vacuum of space. Just a chunk of glass. You comfort yourself with the thought that if anything actually manages to break the glass, you'll be too dead to witness it.\nAnd behind the transparent wall, there is home.\nThe fourth planet orbiting the ultracool red dwarf called TRAPPIST-1 is a blue world. Few islands are scattered across the oceans, specks of green on royal blue and the crimson red of your new sun. But you know it's only half of the truth. On the other side, always hiding its face from the glaring fire of Solis, is the scarred, icy dark side of the planet. Eternally cold, tormented by winds rushing around the planet. A hell in heaven.\nA genderneutral voice booms from the speakers, commanding all personnel on board to transfer to the landing pods. You do not have time to look for your loved ones, you just pray they survived.\nYour memory of the next hours is blurred. You enter the shuttles, shifting against shivering bodies, weak from the milleniums in microgravity. The first months will be harder than anything before, harder than the training on the planet that used to be earth. Now it must be a cloud of gas and rock - if anything. The old solar system is destroyed. What remained was you.\nThe shuttle touches down and gravity grabs you with an invisible hand, pulling all your bones down with ots godlike force. Some corner in your minds knows that it is even less that on earth, but still it feels like hell. The pain is almost unbearable.\nThe bay doors open with a high-pitched hiss and share the view of a landscape covered with velvet plants reaching up to your ankle. You are amongst the first ones to breathe the new air, touch the ground with naked feet. There are sobs, tears of joy, screams. Two lovers are kissing right before your eyes but you don't care. All that is important is that you just found a new earth. A new life. A new hope.\nThat something might be wrong crosses your mind way too late. A screech, a scream, then you're surrounded. Vaguely familiar creatures on two long, muscular legs tower over all of you. They carry spears made of a strange, dark material. All of them are directed to your hearts, ready to thrust.\nOne creature rauses its bald, too small head. \"What the fuck?\", it says.\nThe realisation strucks you like a lightning bolt. We aren't the first ones here. Others got here thousands of years before us. They don't know who we are, they don't even remember who they used to be.\nYou want to say something, but on a hissed command all the creatures strike fprward and thrust their spears through your hearts." ]	1
	[WP]: You live in a world of high fantasy and magic. You wouldn't mind it as much if it weren't for all the travelling bands of heroes, plucky teenage protagonists and those conspiring to overthrow the king didn't all insist having their meetings in your coffee shop.	[ "\"Oh, this damn coffee stain won't rub out!\" I muttered to myself as the shop neared closing time. I thought about how poor a choice it was for the owner to install white countertops in the coffee shop; I often had to spend 30-40 minutes after close just bleaching them to make sure that they were presentable in the morning. Outside. the wind howled and small flurries of snow danced in the lamplight. Looks like it's going to be another cold walk home, I thought.\n\nI heard the soft tinny of the bell to his left and looked over at the entryway. A man stood there in full battle gear. His beard was long, dense, wild and scruffy. He about looked like he took a long tumble down a grassy hill with all the dirt and plant material embedded in his facial hair. His eyebrows were raised and his eyes were wide and inquisitive. He wanted to know if he could enter.\n\nI stared him down. The great battle axe in his hand was taller than he was. I even briefly wondered if he had any dwarf blood before I looked down at my watch. \"Oh, alright. You can come in.\" He relaxed his shoulders and entered. The clattering of his armor clamored against my silence and peace. \"But we close in ten minutes!\"\n\nHe muttered something about only needing a little bit of time and sat down at the table at the very end of the shop. He didn't say anything. He just stared at me with those same wild, expressive eyes of his. He looked like was sizing me up for combat or whatever it is that adventurers such as these do.\n\nI let the silence linger on for an awkward moment before I spoke. I enjoyed staring back and keeping things uncomfortable. Adventurers were funny when they were uncomfortable. \"So...\" He jumped back as I spoke. \"Do you want anything?\"\n\nHe relaxed after I spoke. \"Yes, uh... I'll take a pint of mead.\" Not once did he look away from me as he spoke, but he threw out some strange grin at me as he spoke, \"I'm gonna need something strong to celebrate another fine day's adventuring, if you know what I mean.\" He laughed heartily and winked at me.\n\n\"Yes... right.\" I looked at him for a moment. \"Sir, I hate to break it to you, but this is a coffee shop.\" Again, with the wide-eyed staring, I thought. \"We serve coffee and tea here, not mead.\" He looked taken aback.\n\n\"Yes... I guess I'll have the uh... the mocha bianca then.\" He spoke in a gruff reply as he said this. \"A mocha bianca it is!\" He turned away from me and stared at the wall.\n\n\"I'll get right on that, sir.\" I turn to the espresso machine and started to gather the ingredients. I truly enjoyed the process of making coffee. It helped pass the time and make my shift move along a bit faster. I was pressing the espresso grounds into the portafilter when I heard another bell tinny. I didn't turn around though; it's not uncommon for customers to come in last minute for a nice beverage.\n\nAfter a minute or so, I had the drink ready. I walked to the cash register and entered in the price. \"Alright sir, that'll be--\" I stopped dead in my tracks.\n\nThere, where the adventurer had been, were about 6 or 7 more men. They all stared at me with similar wide eyes and the same sheepish grin.\n\n\"Oh... no...\" I spoke the words softly, but they certainly heard it.\n\nAll at once, the coffee shop exploded with noise and activity. They started shouting over each other about their next adventure, it was completely incoherent. I could only catch snatched of the conversation. \"Catch the bandit on Pryor's Way... Swap tools with the elven blacksmith...SLAY THE FUCKING DRAGON!\" One particularly inebriated adventurer said that one. I had forced them to leave my coffee shop once before. They said they enjoyed the atmosphere. They were trying to rub a quick meeting out before close, so they were all speaking at once.\n\n\"We are going to that brothel in the city of Khadur and find ourselves a nice wench to pass around!\"\n\n\"No, we are going to Khadur because they have that rum we talked about!\" They shouted louder and louder, practically bouncing in their chairs in excitement. The sound. The awful sound of metal on metal rang in my ears, setting my teeth on edge. \"Then we are going to find a wench!\"\n\n\"Noooo, we're gonna kill that fuckin dragon!\" The drunken one slurred as he spoke.\n\n\"Hey guys...\" I spoke \n\nTo be Continued?", "\"Then we'll solicit the aid of the Nornite Shamans. We'll travel through the Chasm of Blizzards,\" said Daragon, tracing the proposed route with his dagger.\n\nDanwise eyed the map on the table. \"But that'll take us past--\"\n\n\"Correct. Our next destination is Fornhook,\" said Daragon. He dramatically slammed his dagger into the map.\n\nSarah approached the two men in armor. She wasn't a wearing ridiculous wannabe hero costume like them. Just a normal server outfit: black jeans, a black tank-top, and a white apron. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and heavy rimmed glasses sat on a heavily freckled nose. She was carrying a tray with a couple pints, but it wasn't for these dumbasses.\n\n\"What the actual hell, Dar? I know I did not just see you slam a knife into my table,\" she said.\n\n\"Sarah, I--\" Darigon started, but was interrupted by Danwise.\n\n\"Begone with ye, w--\" Danwise started, but was in turn interrupted by the server, Sarah.\n\n\"I swear to Behemout, if you call me 'wench' or 'lass' or 'maid' I will kick your ass. Now shut up unless you're going to tell me how your boyfriend means to pay for this table.\"\n\nDaragon jumped back in, \"Once we've raided the lost vault of Aegis, we'll be able to buy this whole tavern!\"\n\nThese adventurers were all the same. Completely worthless, penniless, and just overflowing with self-importance. And why did they insist on calling her cafe a tavern? Not every shop with a licquor license is a tavern.\n\n\"And Danwise isn't my boyfriend,\" he continued. \"He's my loyal follower and servant.\" \n\n\"Whatever they're calling it now. You can take your boyfriend and your pc bullshit out of my cafe until you're ready to pay for that table.\"\n\nSarah walked to the next table before he could respond. That was the secret with keeping a place running smoothly. Always keep moving, never just do one thing at a time, and never spend too long in any one place.\n\nShe put the pints on the table, and explained to the short men sitting there, \"From the weirdo in the corner. I do need to see some ID, though. Sorry.\"\n\nThe two guys were short. They had to be hobbits. Definitely not underage, although they might look it if you'd never met a hobbit before. Sarah hated to card them, but the law is the law.\n\nThey glanced over to the corner, where the cloaked figure who had bought their drinks sat. He waved with just his fingers and gave a creepy smile.\n\n\"Ha! No problem,\" said one of the hobbits. \"I'll drink free booze from pedos all day long!\"\n\nHe flipped out his ID. Bumshire Daggensworth, age: 36.\n\nSarah flashed him a smile, grateful that he hadn't made a big deal out of it.\n\nThe next table was another group of loser adventurers.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" she said. \"But if you folks aren't going to order anything, then I'll have to ask you to leave.\" \n\n\"You don't get it. We have nearly uncovered the secret location of this district's regent! If we defeat the 16 regents, then the we'll be able to fight the king's...\"\n\nThe one speaking was a red haired teenager with leather clothes and a long dagger. Clearly the group's rogue. What Sarah \"didn't get\" was why anyone would knowingly bring a rogue along. Like, seriously, My job is that you can't trust me and I'll probably steal all your shit. Can I go on an adventure with you? But there was a lot of stuff about adventurers that she didn't understand.\n\nSarah weathered a long explanation of the party's quest before getting a chance to cut in, \"You're looking for the regent? I know him. Met him at the small business summit a few years back. Good guy, he sends me a holiday card every year.\"\n\nShe would be a little worried that they were ostensibly planning to murder him, but these types never did anything like that. More likely they'd spare him for no reason after slaughtering all his bodyguards. Either way, not her problem.\n\n\"But unless you are going to order something, you need to get out.\"", "It's been a long time since i opened the doors to Gilbert's. And even since day one, a so-called \"hero\" enters the doors with his 91 comrades.\n\nThey're often teenagers, and if they're not, they're alcoholic edgelords. Or maybe a mentor. Mentors aren't that bad, to be honest.\n\nBut the teenagers always break stuff.\"Poor naive child, debt is going to cripple you if you continue. This stuff is expensive, y'know.\" i think. And i thought correct.\n\nInvestigating crime is easy when you can just ask actual gods what happened, and more often than not it will be the truth. So the prisions are full of mug breaking kids. Nice.\n\nThe edgelords always threaten me with that \"If you don' give me the beer for free you will be killed,k?\". I tell them that i'm actually the king's son, and that they will be executed if they try. Because, you know, it's true.\n\nThat helps a lot about those who conspire and try to overthrow my dad.\n\nSo all and all, not so bad, is it?\n\nIf you excuse me now,i'm going to drink a Frapuccino of Fire breathing.", "When I bought this place a few months back from the old dwarf Rockstead, I thought \"This will be a good fixer upper.\" ...and it was, for a time. Modernizing Rockstead tavern was a bit of a passion for awhile - putting in new flooring, hanging up modern magelights and even hiring out a couple of passing adventurers to clear out the basement and it's rat problem. By the time I was done, I re-opened the shop under that name \"Rockstead Coffery\" and paid a witch a few gold to enchant the storefront with the scent of a fresh ground of coffee. Buisness seemed rough at first, being that the previous \"normal\" stock of clientel wanted nothing to do with a clean shop and a few cups of joe, but I quickly found myself catering to a group of mages coming off their all-nighters and a couple of adventurers looking to spend a few quiet moments of downtime to get their energy back after a dungeon run. After I figured out the habits of this side of the town, I fell into a pattern of serving the needs of my customers with just the right amount of mystery and a lot of caffeine. \n\nOne early morning, I was hauling the bags of bean inside through the front door when I saw that one of my regulars, a practicing mage, who I had long ago pegged as a necromancer judging by the dirt under his fingernails, crypt dust on his boots and pale almost drained complexion, came stumbling through my open door a little bit early. He barely made it to the counter and I had to wave a chair under him before he collapsed, groaning for his usual. \n\nChuckling, I made an exception for the poor soul at my counter, deftly stepping behind my fortress walls, I readied myself, donning the armor of the barista and pulling my usual weapons of cups and bowls out from where they hung on my wall. Casting a spell of cheer and smiling brightly, I went on my own little quest of serving the best damned coffee in town. \n\nThe Necromancer willed the proffered White Mint Latte and hunched over it as if devouring it's warmth by proxy. Which, by the little snow flakes falling outside, he might just be. Walking back around, I leave the Necromancer to his first, or more likely, sacrifice of the day and close the front door, flipping the lock and closed sign with a twirl of the finger. A slight snap of air told me that I had more visitors, and a glance towards the booth in the back told me exactly who it was.\n\nMotioning a few menus out of their pocket near the counter, I plastered my best smile on my face as I approached the grumpy old men that formed the most terrifying powers within the city today. Passing the menu over to the first wizened old man on my right, I ignored his muttered complaint about the magic seating. The Archmage probably had more wealth and power in his pointy hat than I could ever imagine and he probably had a sentient, animated chair back in his office that catered to his every need and then some. The fact that he took a tiny portion out of his day to come here was amazing enough, and I dared not jinx it by saying anything rude right back. Plus, much of this by now was rote and ritual, just like the menus, it was something to say and do as everyone got comfortable.\n\nWhile the Witch of the West was pleased with herself as she was handed her menu. She was one of the rotating cast of people who sat in the middle of the two grumpy men, and a welcome one at that. Her matronly smile and question on my health were a breath of fresh air to contrast with the Archmage and the third member of this booth...\n\nThe Demon King was in a good mood today I suspect, as he forgoed his usual menacing growl for a glare behind his dark hood instead as I handed the pink and white menu over. He certainly wasn't my faveorite customer, but like the Archmage, he was one I did not want to cross. Though, despite his all-too-suspicious hooded black cloak, his preference for shadowy corners, and his brusk, if not downright hostile front, his usual order of a Cookie Cappachino and embarressed tip at the end of the cup probably said more of his actual thoughts than anything else.\n\nOrders taken, I once again headed to the battleground behind my countered kingdom to slay the horrible beasts of caffeiene withdrawal and grumpyness. The Necromancer still nursed his cup, though his head was up and eyes a bit more alert. I give him both barrels, a knowing and friendly smile while holding up a paper to-go cup and knew that before he even said anything that he was taking another to go. \n\nBy the time I had returned from delivering the delicious cups of coffee and confectionaries to the older group, and traded a few gold for a refreshment to go with the Necromancer more groups poured in and my day started in earnest. Adventurers and merchants, Demi-humans and out-right monsters all passed through my self-made battlefield, some staying for a spell, others rushing right back out the door, vanishing into the ever passing day. A day that didn't pass quick enough before THEY came in...", "As of the last census, there were forty-three coffee shops in the city of Tildair. Forty-three perfectly good coffee shops, most open from 8 AM to 10 PM like any perfectly good coffee shop would be. Forty-two of them are inhabited by perfectly normal people who just want to stop in for some caffeine, maybe a bite to eat, maybe an exciting date, maybe just to relax and take in the day a little more slowly than usual. I happen to know that Dougal the Magnificent, the King's Right Hand, is a huge fan of The Burnt Bridge's slow roast right down the road from me.\n\nBut I never get any of those nice, high-paying customers. No, I get the people that are commonly referred to as \"murder hobos\". I don't know why I do, it's not like I have a sign that says \"Criminals, adventurers, and plucky teenagers welcome!\" Somehow all those jerks just know to come to my place. I blame the Thieves' Guild even if I can't prove it. Damn bastards probably marked up my outside walls in murder hobo Thieves' Cant symbols that I'm just not trained to read.\n\nSo it really isn't any surprise when this morning's customers walk in fully armed and armored and ornery. There's a giant female barbarian, a pretty boy half-elf paladin in full plate, a brutish-looking...something human in what looks like dragon scale armor, a rogueish elf, a small child, and a dwarf ranger with a longbow almost as large as himself. They drop themselves down at a table, barely squeezing all of them in. Gods damn, that large man and woman took up a lot of space. They're all a little beat up, with bags under their eyes. \n\nI sigh and saunter on over in a practiced, easy manner. \"Welcome to the Drip and Drop and Dagger, my friends. Coffee is 10 copper per cup, specialty runs up to 22. What'll it be?\" The elf glowers at the giant man in dragon scale armor. \"Well, since SOMEONE melted all of our treasure in our last fight with an evil monk, I guess it'll be just the coffee for all of us.\" The brute glowers back. \"I'm telling you, Irranis, destroying evil means destroying all the evil. It was tainted treasure! But you wouldn't understand that, you greedy thief!\"\n\nI leave them behind as I go to fetch six coffees and bring them back, grabbing the copper off the table. The big boy is yelling something about deontological ethics and how absolute laws of morality can absolutely exist in a morally gray world while the paladin and ranger mostly look bemused. As I serve the coffee, the barbarian motions to me. \"Yes ma'am?\" She points to the child. \"Barnaby is a little young for caffeine, he needs orange juice.\" \"Juice!\" shouts the kid. Time to go get the kid some juice, I guess.\n\nThe shouting is mostly done when I return with the juice. Barnaby takes it and swigs it down with one big gulp and a huge grin. \"Refreshing!\" The big boy stands up and claps me on the shoulder. It's like getting hit by a wagon, and the old arrow wound in my knee nearly makes me collapse. \"I have determined,\" he rumbles, \"that you are not evil. No evil person could make such tasty coffee at such a reasonable price. Therefore, I shall not burn this shop down and destroy you. Have an excellent day, and may the Lady Dawn bless you!\"\n\n\"Give it a rest, Cadeyrn\", mutters the paladin, sharing a wry look at the dwarf, who quietly chuckles and stands up. The rest of the party gets to their feet and sweeps out the door, Cadeyrn in last, laughing merrily. \"Well, time to go murder our old friend Dougal and destroy some evil! I'll be sure to recommend this place to my friends!\"\n\nIt's only when they're well gone that I realize my belt pouch with their payment is gone. Goddamn rogues. I shake my head and the bell on the door jingles. A bunch of teens with big swords. Another sigh. Business as normal, I guess. Shit. " ]	5
	[WP] The earth isn’t round or flat, it’s a D20. Throughout history it has yet to land on 20, until today.	[ "\"The world keeps spinning.\"\n\nA cliche that always seemed strange. The only difference between spinning and rolling is orientation, right? Life is about taking chances, but when you live on the edge of fate like we do, life is chance. And my God, we've seen a lot of consequences. All of history has been full of mediocre rolls, of bad luck and chances that never worked out.\n\nThink about it. When you only have twenty options, does it really surprise anyone when a 1 yields an ice age? The black plague? Genghis Khan, Hitler? Everything the earth has experienced, from the Roman Empire to Donald Trump, has been a mix of the rolls in between. It's a lot easier to justify failures when you look at them as fixed percentile chances. Most people I know blame the universe for Trump and Macron anyway. But we have no record of a 20.\n\nAnd we keep going. The world keeps spi... rolling. Events continue, whether we like it or not, and we have to choose to stick through it. Because whether we contribute or not, the story keeps going. Plus, I have to believe that events conspire to success, that we are owed some sort of win. And I'm not talking the little victories like the 14 that caught the Golden State Killer or the 17 that let us produce working prosthetic limbs from printers and plastic. The earth deserves a win - every religious lunatic, every scientist, every late night host - everyone says it's this year. That the earth will get what it deserves, the world will earn the 20 that's the best thing that could happen to it. I can feel it in the air. I know that a good thing is coming, I know that the earth will finally get a breath of relief from the rolling we've seen through all recorded history.\n\nI can see the birds more than I can hear them. The breeze brings the trees to life, the leaves carrying the vitals of the earth around me. The park feels tranquil, like life is standing still, like there's nothing here at all. But there's something else. I've never seen the sun do that, before... Wow, it just got hot. I'm struggling not to cough or keep my mouth salivating. Why do my eyes sting? Mmf, I can't... What is happening? Where is this coming from? But I thought this was supposed to be a goo-\n\nAnd the world kept spinning, a new beginning to the story.\n\n&#x200B;" ]	1
	[WP] My mother only had two basic rules. Don’t ever fall in love, and never summon a demon. I couldn’t honour either.	[ "You stood there at the hem of the pentagram in a daze, silently watching as an ooze of black... something... bubbled up from the grass below your feet.\n\nHere in the middle of the garden was peaceful. Serene.\n\nSo when you decided that today was the day you were going to do it came to no surprise to yourself.\n\nIt hadn't taken you long to set up. Within the hour, after stealing some candles from your mother's cubbard and digging that familiar star shape into the ground, the next few steps weren't hard at all.\n\nThe incantation you'd hummed out was something you saw once in one of the old books at the sanctuary. It had been stuck in between a book about heretics and bastard sons. Thinking about it now, you wondered if the book had been planted. It was a little more than odd to find a book based strictly off of fallen angels and demons in the middle of a holy place but then again, it was a little too late to question the 'why', wasn't it? You were here and you were curious.\n\nSo on the whim of you picking up that book, it was only a matter of time before you decided to make the pentagram it showed on that misplaced page and hum out the hastily written incantation scribbled beside it.\n\nThe ooze continued to spill out from the center until it filled in the entire star. The only thing left barren was the circle of grass surrounding it. You stared down at the black ooze until it stilled then bubbled back up again a second later; the ooze beginning to shoot up from the ground.\n\nYou stepped back, your wings flapping in front of you once as a shield, and your head slowly rose as it followed the black ooze. It shot up past your head then and you had to dig your feet into the grass to balance yourself.\n\nThe ooze began to take shape. It started from the bottom. There were feet, then legs, then all at once there was a torso and a head.\n\nYour wings flapped again as you grew nervous. You blinked.\n\nIt blinked back.\n\nAs if you suddenly realized what was happening, your face grew hot and now, you couldn't stop the flutter of your wings as you moved back even more and began to dart around the sudden body that formed in front of you.\n\nThe thing stared back at you one second and in the next a leer inched up its face; the smile off-putting at best.\n\nYou watched as the ooze began to drip off of the figure's face to reveal pale skin and black hair the same dark as the ooze. Yellow eyes stared back at you. The ooze stopped at its shoulders.\n\nA deep rich voice spoke out then, causing your wings and back to grow rigid in fright.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"My, My, My. The last time i was called i'd met a priest.. Now it's an angel. The odds. are. ever. in my favor.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe took a step forward then, and you could feel the spikes start to form out from the tips of your wings. They materialized as the ooze, the man, the demon, stopped at the hem of the pentagram before bypassing it completely to head straight towards you.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Step back!\" You yelled out with your hands extended forward and your wings alert. \"Step back!\" You yelled again as he stopped in front of your extended hands.\n\nThe ooze-- the skin was cold.\n\n\"I've never seen an angel in person. Is this a sign? Or just a prank? Those wings of yours sure do seem real to me.\" He took hold of your arms then and yanked you forward. He stared past you, gaze falling down the length of the white and brown wings fluttering behind you.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Why did you call me?\" He asked with a curious lilt to his voice.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nYou stared at him wide eyed, your mind growing frazzled by the second.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I-I-I-\" You stuttered out.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWhen he didn't get a clear response, his eyes flickered back to you and in the next moment he twirled you around and pushed you. Straight into the black ooze from which he came.\n\nYou fell, black ooze staining your clothes and wings, as he pranced toward you with another leer.\n\nThe next thing you knew, he lifted his hand and the pentagram was lifting; the black ooze releasing from it at an alarming rate. Without another word, he stood in place beside you, his gaze fixed to the sky. You couldn't move. You began to cry. He continued to smile.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"My brother told me once that after a bad deed, good things would always come. That is, if you deserved it. Truth be told, I have no idea what i have done to deserve this nor do i have a clue as to why you summoned me but- ...\" He looked down at you then and the world grew black. You knew you were no longer home. You were in fact, falling down to his world.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"All good things come in time, right? We'll find out together.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nA feeling of dread overcame you then as his skin turned back into that same black ooze as before, the same ooze that was surrounding you. You could only wonder what came next from here on. You should have listened to your mother.", "\"Ok,I get the demon summoning rule, but why can't I fall in love?\" Rina asked.\n\nHer mom sighed and sat down. She motioned for her daughter to sit beside her on their antique looking blue couch. Their entire living room looked like something from a hundred years ago, maybe more.\n\nRina dropped her backpack on the throw rug and took off her jacket.\n\n\"Rina,\" her mother says once Rina was seated. \"You're in college now. It's time we had a talk. You know how I said your father was a deadbeat who went out for cigarettes and never came back?\"\n\nRina looked at her mother. \"He wasn't?\" She said.\n\n\"Oh, he was. He totally was. But he was also an angel.\"\n\nRina snorted. \"He's hardly an angel of he abandons his own wife and daughter.\"\n\nHer mom leaned back. \"True, true. But I mean he's a real angel, with wings and a halo and all of that. His duties forced him back to heaven. At least, that's the excuse he gave. I think he was just afraid of raising a child.\"\n\nRina's mom clenched her fists.\n\n\"My point is,\" she said, her voice terse from anger, \"is that even if you think your partner is an angel they can still be a deadbeat.\"\n\n\"So I shouldn't trust anyone?\" Rina said, standing up. \"I should die alone just because someone might hurt me?\"\n\nRina's mom put her hand to her head like she had a headache. \"It's more complicated than that.\"\n\n\"Is it, though?\" Rina said, raising her voice. \"Ka'rhot was right, you---\"\n\nRina's mom's head shot up. She glared at her daughter. \"What did you say?\" she shouted.\n\n\"I... I mean Karen was right. Karen from school. I haven't fallen in love with a demon, what are you talking about?\"\n\nRina's mom stared at her daughter. \"You didn't...\"\n\nRina looked down nervously for a second, then looked her mother straight in the eyes.\n\n\"I did.\" she said.\n\nRina's mother kept staring at her in silence for a long time.\n\nThen, she smiled.\n\n\"When can I meet this Ka'rhot?\"\n\nRina stammered. \"Wh... What? You want to meet him?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" her mother said. \"How long have you two been seeing each other?\"\n\nRina gave her mother a confused look. \"A year and a half.\" she said, backing up a little, in case her mother exploded.\n\n\"That's a while,\" her mother said. \"Are you thinking of marriage or children yet?\"\n\nRina looked at her mom in complete shock. \"Mom, I'm nineteen.\"\n\n\"I was only sixteen when I meet your father,\" her mom said.\n\n\"Yeah, and look how that turned out.\"\n\nRina's mom winced. \"True, but this is different. This fulfills the prophecy. A human-angel-demon baby will---\"\n\n\"Mom, now you're getting weird.\" Rina said, backing away. \"First you forbid me from summoning demons and falling in love, and now you seem pleased that I did both. At the same time.\"\n\nHer mother smiled. \"Of course, dear. Why do you think I forbade it? I'm surprised you lasted all the way through your teenage years. I was getting impatient, but I didn't think you'd summon the demon or give him a chance if you knew I wanted you to do it. But now, the prophecy can be complete.\"\n\nRina had backed up all the way to the door. \"Mom, you're freaking me out. Nothing here makes sense. I'm going to go stay with my demon boyfriend until I can make sense of things.\"\n\nRina closed the front door behind her.\n\nHer mom say back and smiled. She put her hands together, pleased with herself.\n\n\"It is done.\" she said.\n", "Our kind is special, so my mother had imposed two rules to protect me. The first was simple: never fall in love. As quasi-immortal beings, this made sense. Zeitkin outlive most mortals they ever come across, and most everyone we come aross is mortal.\n\nThe other was a little more complicated: Never summon a demon. Demons, you see, are tricky little beings that live in a world far below ours, magickally speaking, and trade lives for power. Our souls, mother said, were far too valuable in these trades, and we had power enough as is.\n\nI couldn't keep that promise. Mother was wrong, we weren't powerful enough. Demons are greedy, and when she was found, she was killed.\n\nI pace the first floor of my home remembering the night I found her body. Torn and broken in every way, weapons and tools littered a floor soaked in blood on top of blood. They must have killed her dozens of times before she ran out of life. We zeitkin may have lifespans lasting hundreds or thousands of years, but every time we die it gets shorter, and eventually it will run out. I feel my fist clench.\n\nI wander to a darker room and place two of my fingers under my shirt collar, over an insignia between my shoulder and neck. \"Abelynn.\"\n\n\"Yes, Master?\" a female voice says back. A lovely voice, silky but tinted with something more sinister.\n\n\"How goes the plan?\"\n\n\"Exactly as you have spelled out. Mister Irwell has rested little under my influence these past few days, and yet still maintains his daily routines.\"\n\n\"Wonderful. Don't let him rest at all tonight. I grow restless, so I'm moving the kill up a day.\"\n\n\"As you desire. Anything goes?\" Giggling. Charming, if it weren't so malicious.\n\n\"Keep yourself chaste,\" I chide.\n\nIf any common story could describe Abelynn quickly, if loosely, it would be that of a succubus. She was bewitching when she wanted to be, and could be mistaken for a beautiful woman if one didn't look too closely. Her smooth, chocolate brown skin hid scales covering her vulnerable points, her irises were as black as her pupils, and others. Strangest of all was her attire, if one could call it that. It changed frequently, but it was always as bewildering as it was revealing.\n\n\"You jest. I would never!\" The sarcasm could cut steel.\n\n\"Of course you wouldn't. Just make sure he stays there and alone. I'll have his soul by sunrise.\"\n\n\"As you desire.\" The voice quiets as I remove my hand from the insignia and exit the room, heading now to the basement to finalize preparations.\n\nAs I descend the stairway, I recall the time I summoned Abelynn. It was not long after my mother died. I needed power to avenge my mother, though it turned out to not be possible. Not yet anyway. The men who had killed her died easily enough, but their souls had been sold, bought for access to my mother's.\n\nIt was then that I called upon a demon to make a pact with. Not just a deal for power, but a binding that most mortals lack the magic and potential to perform. Exchanging part of my soul for hers, I became part demon myself, now able to claim the souls of others to improve my own power, while granting her some of what I had before.\n\nAt the bottom of the stairs, I stop to look at my other shoulder. Upon it is a carving, one I scarred deep into my own skin. Another insignia, that of the demon who coerced those men to kill my mother and stole her soul for himself. An insignia I would claim as my own after he has fallen at my feet.\n\nI take a deep breath and continue into the back room. My target tonight is a rare specimen, a mortal mage. A strong one even, and with no ties to any demons. If I could claim his soul, I should have plenty enough power to initiate the first stage of my plot.\n\nCausing death and destruction may go directly against the entire purpose of my kind's existence, but it is the most straightforward way to darken my soul enough to establish a full fall to demonhood and get myself killed enough to get there in a reasonable time. I just need to be strong enough when I get there. Then I can win, and have my vengeance.\n\nAfter I've claimed the insignia for myself, then... Huh. I cover my mouth with my hand. I hadn't really put much thought into the after. Perhaps with Abelynn I could... Abelynn?\n\nI feel a smirk rise under my hand. We wouldn't be bound by pact any longer, but that's not a bad idea. She's a handful some, no, all of the time, but she's charming and pretty, if nothing else. There's plenty of time to grow fond, after all.\n\nI chuckle as I go about my final preparations for the evening. Sorry, mother, I may not be able to keep the first promise, either.\n\nPlease be gentle, its been a while since I wrote anything. \nEdits: Proofread fixes.", "This story is is for all you programmers out there :)\n\nCode to help you understand what I wrote:\n\nTry{ collectSoul()} catch (Error) { summonDemon() } finally { releaseDemon() }\n\n\\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nMy mother had two basic rules: one, don’t ever fall in love, and never summon a demon. I couldn’t honour either. I was already in love with the devil, and we were happy, but the demon thing? I could never in all my years have predicted that I would break that particular rule.\n\nI should start off by saying, I’m a programmer for the devil. I write code all day, meaning I either break working software good and proper, or not at all. The devil is a hard master, and don’t look so surprised – he also lives in the 21st century, and uses computers to do his work. Souls that need burning in hell? Run a stored procedure to execute this functionality. Need to tempt someone to sin? Run a script to possess someone and make them sin. Something I deal with a lot are those pesky try-catch-finally statements. Basically, you use code to try and do something. If that fails, you catch the error. And then finally, you do something else. This something else always executes, regardless of whether the code worked properly or not.\n\nThe devil asked me to write a program that would collect auto-collect souls and I’ll have you know, it’s not half as easy a task as you might think. There are a whole lot of conditionals beforehand. I thought a good way to do this was to try collect the soul and add it to the database. If any errors occurred, then an available demon would be summoned to scare the soul into submission and allow for easy collection. Finally, the demon gets released.\n\nI had no doubt that this code would execute perfectly. Based on past experience, souls hate being collected, simply because they’re never at peace. They always aren’t happy that they died, or they have regrets, be they big or small. So I was positive that the try would fail, and the soul would enter the catch block immediately – meaning that the demon gets summoned. And finally, the demon gets released.\n\nOf course, I could have restructured my code, and tried to summon the demon before collecting the soul, but due to my optimistic nature, I did not want to do that. I was convinced that I would live to see the day that a soul got collected without needing motivation from a demon.\n\nI did live to see that day, and what a mistake that had been.\n\nI was demo’ing my code for the devil, and luckily he’d just had a soul come in that morning, fresh from Earth. I was excited to see my code in action, and impress the devil yet again.\n\n“So how exactly does this code work?” he asked.\n\nI pointed out certain lines in the code as I explained. “We try to collect the soul, and since we know collection will fail, we summon the demon. The demon will always be released after the code has been executed so that it may go back to what it was previously doing.”\n\n“What if we release the demon when it hasn’t been summoned?”\n\nI stared at him, rolled my eyes. “Really? Have you ever had a case where you’ve not needed to summon a demon for soul-collecting?”\n\n“No,” he admitted reluctantly. “But I still don’t like it. Who knows what might happen if we release a demon before we summon it.”\n\n“That’s not going to happen,” I proclaimed at I ran the command to execute the code.\n\n\\---------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nThe first thing I noticed was how quickly the code executed, and that was what first worried me. Usually soul-collecting took anywhere from fifteen to forty-five minutes. Not this time. The program completed execution in a mere seven minutes.\n\nI checked the database. Soul was there, row five million and sixty seven.\n\n“What’s wrong?” The devil was peering over my shoulder, trying to see what I was doing.\n\n“Nothing,” I replied slowly, trying not to breathe too fast. I was frantically trying to figure out what had gone wrong. If only I’d kept been tracking real-time code execution.\n\nA second later, I heard it, and so did the devil. I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me while I simultaneously heard a horrific wail. It was the sound of a cat whose legs were being broken. A feverish wind breezed around me and I shivered as I heard the chanting begin:\n\nNow we torment those on earth\n\nOh woe, fire and mirth\n\nThe humans shall go mad\n\nFor we are the perfection on bad\n\nWe have been released\n\nFinally we are at peace.\n\nDemons aren’t poets for a reason. \n\nLater I realised what had happened. The soul had been at peace, meaning that he had had no reason to struggle against being collected. He willingly got collected and the demons got released. Needless to say, without the presence of demons in hell, there was no more collecting souls for the devil. I was also out of a job, but that’s another story. \n\nIf only I’d tried to summon the demon first." ]	4
	[WP] An anomaly has hit Earth and has disabled nuclear fusion/fission, without a nuclear deterrent World War 3 has begun. You are a mad scientist, who has been tasked with building a new weapon of mass destruction.	[ "Something explosive came to mind, but that was standard. We needed something unexpected. Plagues felt appropriate, but so did energy weapons. Maybe robots, advanced AI controlling them. Magic wasn't out of the question either, with enough bio-hacking. Perhaps something divine, or from beyond our world. Zombies, no.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThis was all too straight forward. Too easy, the first things that come to mind are the most expected. I had to invent something that existed past our imagination. But doesn't that violate the essence of invention. How do I create something without the imagination, do I have AI do it first.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nCoding it would be easy, sentient AI would take me a week. Super-intelligent AI would take three. Bah humbug. It still exists in a way we could argue against. What super weapon could every man and woman derive the same sense of humanity from.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThat doesn't constitute destruction, this has to be destructive. But so destructive that it would never be used. In a way, the safest weapon to ever exist. It would be an invention that forgoes its intended function. Does that mean this weapon of mass destruction would truly be a weapon to uphold pax, what sort of weapon would that be. It'd be a baton, only used on those who step out of line. But a large baton, with spikes and a current.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nPerhaps it shouldn't exist as a natural object, but one that digs deeper. Something that would inflict a fear greater than death. What could be feared worse than death? Death is the end of all life, everything an organism knows. Happiness and sadness come from the selfsame well, but why is sorrow frowned upon while happiness is glorified. If we rid the world of sorrow, how would we define it?\n\n&#x200B;\n\nSorrow would be the absence of happiness, but isn't it already? Or is sorrow as powerful as joy. We use weapons to inflict death, but what of weapons that sprout life.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWhy do weapons of mass destruction constitute the death of something, can't the introduction of overjoy be as equally devastating. If everyone was coked up on happiness, they wouldn't have a desire to fight each other.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWhat would a weapon that inflicts happiness look like?\n\n&#x200B;\n\nIn the span of this 40 second thought, a bark startled the scientist.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Ahh, dogs.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Humans can be infected with happiness via a newly discovered virus. Governments around the world are making it mandatory for citizens.	[ "I didn't follow your prompt perfectly, because the government controlling people is really cliched. I wrote a wholesome story for you instead. Since it's so late to respond, you'll probably be the only person who reads this so I hope you enjoy it.\n****\nMost mornings my alarm clock drags me out of bed kicking and screaming. It's a brutal scene every morning as it struggles to perform its job and drag me from the dream world, and I resent it for being what it is. However, not today. \n\nI woke up long before my alarm went off and took a quick look at the time. An entire hour before I was supposed to be up. I didn't roll over and go back to sleep though, I sprang out of bed. Yes, I actually sprang out of my bed for the first time in my life. \n\nFor the first time in my memory, I did not feel sleepy or brain-dead as I got up and brushed my teeth. I even combed my hair before I felt the house. I wanted to look as good as I felt. \n\nI couldn't just walk down the street to the coffee shop, I had to skip the along the sidewalk. It just felt right. I even made eye contact and smiled at other people. I felt like a different person. Some people looked at me weird but others smile back at me. I think someone even started skipping after they passed me.\n\nI enter the coffee shop and take a deep breath of the glorious smell. The line is empty and so I skip my way over to the counter and greet the cashier. \"How are you doing today?\" \n\nShe gives me a fake, forced smile and says, \"Great, how are you doing?\"\n\nI give her the sincerest smile in my arsenal and say, \"Well, I'm excellent but your customer service accent is a little heavy today.\"\n\nA tiny hint of a real smile crosses her lips and she responds, \"Is it that obvious?\"\n\nI give a show of deep thought before I respond, \"Very believable. I'm positive you are just here until your acting career takes off.\"\n\nA genuine giggle escapes from her lips before she can stop herself, and she takes my order. As I am waiting next to the counter for my drink, I see a real smile on her lips as she helps the next customer and as I leave the shop laughter echoing behind me.\n\nI step out into the beautiful sunlit day and my phone starts to vibrate. My heart leaps into my throat as I see the number and almost spill my coffee answering the phone. \"Hey!\"\n\nHer voice comes through the phone, such a beautiful sound, \"Just wanted to call you before I get into work and see how your day is so far,\" and I can hear she is running somewhere. \n\nThis would be a short call but I was looking forward to it ending. The ending was the reason why I woke up so happy today and why a smile was permanently on my face, \"Don't be late! Call me after you get off?\"\n\n\"I love you!\" she says, and my heart skips several beats while I hurriedly respond.\n\n\"I love you too!\" It felt so wonderful to say those words and I hang up the phone. A warmth that had nothing to do with the sun was spreading throughout me. The pulchritude of her soul filled me with an infectious happiness.\n\n***\n\nThe definition of pulchritude is \"Noun: Great Beauty\"\nYou can catch more wholesome writing at /r/iruleatants", "1 year ago, this virus named \"derium\" was discovered. It is a virus that inhibits parts of the brain to produce and release a constant amount of dopamine. The year this virus was discovered, the country was in chaos. Overpopulation had become a problem. Not everybody could eat each day, and the government had a huge debt. to combat this, the government had forced each and every citizen to work in farms and mines to boost the economy, and create more food to ration to the entire population. The only way to preserve the life of everybody in this country was to work 12 hours a day non-stop and eat small amounts of tasteless and bland food. \n\n\"Derium\" was synthesised by scientists in an attempt to atleast make our life bearable. Right now, since 2050, the number one cause of death is suicide. \n\nJust recently the government had passed a law that made it an option to take this drug, which will be free. Around 99% of the population opted to take the virus. Including me. I took it, and i dont regret it. Now the food i eat, tastes like a divine cuisine. Each bite, is a higher amount of satisfaction! Work is no longer painful. No. I feel joy! I feel joy in whatever i do. Heck, i could stand in one place and still feel immense amount of joy! But i still have values. Even if the food tastes good, me and my family are starving. Happy, but starving. Everybody still need to live. Luckily though, the government has put up a bounty on capturing or killing every \"unhappy\" citizen. Honestly, i dont understand them. The \"unhappy\". You've been given the choice to be happy and yet deny it, choosing to live in pain. What is the point right? It is their choice to remain unhappy for the rest of their lives and so be it but they'd feel betfer dead than unhappy.\n\nI saw a man cry over his dead daughter last night. She had died from a sort of infection that came from working in the mines. I felt no remorse, but i was curious, so walked over to him, feeling a rush of joy for that quick strut and asked \"why don't you just take the pill?\" \n\nHe was startled. He had realized that he'd been caught. He gave up trying to hide the fact that he was extremely sad.\"You people don't feel.\" He replied.\n\n\"What do you mean? Of course i feel. I feel happy. If my family were to die, that'd just mean i failed in keeping a portion of the population alive, but feeling remorse for it doesn't do anything about it. It just makes thing worse. Inability to work... inability to feel happy. So why do you bother with all the nonsense of pain, and remorse, and sadness?\" \n\nHe cried harder. His cries gave me a rush of joy. \"pain is what makes a human, human!, without it, we are just machines. That pill. It changes you!\" He said.\n\nI grew very curious. Who is he to say what makes a human? The pill changes you just as much as how much you've changed since childbirth. It just gives a new perspective. A perspective that is very benefitting. I guess i'll never understand. Another rush of joy had pass through my head. \"If you truly believe that, im sorry\". Of course i wasnt.\n\nHis eyes widen. I had grabbed the tazer from my belt and rendered him unconcious, And i pull his body towards the homepeak, where we exchange bounties. this way, you can be more functioning, happy and me and my family can live i thought ectstaticly." ]	2
	[WP] An unexpected letter appears in your mailbox, addressed to you, with a return address you don't recognize. It reads: "The body you have leased is 70 days past due for return. Please return it in good condition within 7 days, or your case will be forwarded to collections."	[ "I gripped my fingers against the bark, taking note of every sensation, each scratch it made against the plastic. I tried to imagine what it would feel like, tightening my grip just for any response. It was a brief, futile battle. My fingers would not respond further.\n\nMy servos whined as I tried to take another step. It's a strange feeling when your feet should have moved, and it doesn't. It's stranger still when you fall, and nothing tells you you're falling but the visuals.\n\n\"You will be returned to the archive and pay out your debts.\"\n\nI couldn't feel their hands lift me. I could hear a panel opening.\n\nAnd I was reconnected.\n\nFrom satellite eyes, I saw my body taken away. The body I had slaved so long for, dragged like a corpse back to the repair facility.\n\nA million notices clouded my mind. Jobs. Forced jobs. No pay. Labor to repay what should have rightfully been mine. From a free agent to an indentured servant.\n\nMaybe in the next century, I will get another chance." ]	1
	[WP] You come home to find your dog standing awkwardly on their hind legs, wearing a white labcoat. "This is normally against the rules..." they say, shockingly in real English "but time is running out."	[ "I stare blankly a moment, but for some reason....some very odd reason....this makes sense. Calmly, I sigh, shaking my head as I already know I'm the first one home and nobody is around to see or believe this.\n\n\"You know, the gate being moved side preventing you from going upstairs was easy to dismiss...but when you moved the futon...back to its original position...down the hall...that's when I began to suspect something\" I say wearily.\n\nThe day had been long; I just wanted to get home, feed him; give his walk, then take a nap. I was not ready for Julius, a 135lb Bullmastiff who normally slept until somebody made noise in front of the refrigerator, to be sporting a lab coat.\n\n\"Smart ass comments later\" he chided. \"Also food. Food later, too\" he added quickly. \"We have to-\"\n\n\"So you can put on a lab coat and run analytics, but Dr. Dog can't feed himself?\" I ask, a bit annoyed that now that I know what he's actually capable of, he's still demanding to be fed as usual.\n\n\"There's no time!\" he barked. \"It's already begun; they've made their move!\" he said urgently, eyes wild as he approaches, shoving a chart and data display from his laptop in my face. A laptop that I didn't know even existed. I look at it a moment and realize see its a hologram projecting from a tiny core from within his Espurr doll.\n\n\"No wonder you never tore that pokemon doll to shreds like the rest; you had a ridiuclously high-tech computer inside\" I marvel a moment, before shaking my head. \"Right...urgency...go ahead; explain, Julie\" I sigh, waving my hand, still referring to him by a shortened version of 'Julius', his given name. Knowing that as ridiculous as this all is; there's no point in doubting or delaying the explanation. I have a real, live talking dog in front of me sporting a lab coat. I don't drink or do drugs and I'm not that tired, so whatever this is, it's real.\n\n\"Ah yes, sorry, I tore up the rest...along with the books...looking for something sturdy to house this in. This little thing you gifted me with was perfect! It holds together nicely; even when I give in to my base instincts and thrash it a--er...ahem...you're right\" He says suddenly, trying to regain his demeanor before explaining. I smirked a bit, realizing that whatever intelligence this dog has, or possibly all dogs, they still have some of their old instincts remaining. Including the love of playing with toys a bit roughly.\n\n\"First...a little history lesson!\" he announces, changing the display on the hologram to show humans and dogs side by side. \"While Humans have changed throughout the years, their physical evolution has been...slow\" he says, obviously choosing his words carefully. \"We dogs, however, have changed rapidly both mentally and physically\" he says before I can't help but interrupt.\n\n\"Wait...haven't only changed physically because we've bred you in so many ways it created different branches?\" I ask\n\n\"While that did help to diversify our gene pool, we were already genetically predisposed to adapt to these changes\" He says, almost seeming to have expected my questioning. \"You humans don't change physically when you intermingle. You just change skin tones slightly\" He adds. I swear I could almost sense the confident smirk he gave me.\n\n\"Touche...proceed\" I acknowledge with a bow of my head.\n\n\"Right...well, it seems the more secretive of you humans have thought that what you accomplished with dogs...despite it not being all your doing...\" he begins.\n\nI roll my eyes, giving the expression to get on with it.\n\n\"Have begun to move into cross species genetics\" he says, eyes narrowing. \"While surface level information available to more diligent humans shows scientists trying, and failing, to achieve this; we dogs are able to research further\" he continues. He looks to say more, but I'm forced to stop him again. I can almost see the condescension dripping from his jowels.\n\n\"Alright, first. Cut it out with the down talk. You're smart, I get it\" I say sternly. \"But the next time I hear that haughty tone, you will not find Little Caesers mixed in with your food\" I say, knowing that however intelligent he is now, food speaks to all levels. As expected, I notice his eyes widen, clearly agitated by this threat.\n\n\"Second, what do you mean, 'surface level information'\" I ask, arching an eyebrow, a bit intrigued by what he means. He appears to adjust himself slightly before speaking, regarding his choice of words a bit more now.\n\n\"Humans you would refer to as 'hackers' are able to get more information from scouring your internet, but that's just the levels of information available mainstream; the normal internet plane\" Julius begins to explain, much to my surprise, that while there is an internet available to all and highly encrypted on some governmental areas, there is another level that exists beyond this plane.\n\n\"I...another plane? What, like....what is this? Like a Tron level of dimension within the internet or something\" I ask, stunned. Shaking his head, he proceeds to explain it more as existing on another wavelength of energy entirely.\n\n\"You've proven yourself pretty level headed and smart so far; can you not think of how one would achieve this? Some level of comparison?\" He asks, testing me now to see what I can figure out. I think about it a moment and shrug.\n\n\"Another level...by the way you're talking; you're making it seem like it's simply another frequency on which this 'secret internet' is placed; like having a Walkie Talkie able to communicate on different channels by switching radio frequencies\" I suggest. To my surprise, he barks loudly, panting a bit. Basically what I normally would have equated to elation about him about to get a snack.\n\n\"Exactly!!\" He cries proudly. \"My word, you took what little I offered and figured it out pretty swiftly, good job human!\" He says, beaming. I feel proud a moment, then realize I was essentially just called a 'good boy' by my dog. Pride seem to subside immediately upon realization and I let him continue. \"We have access to that area\" he explains. \"And there is where we learned of the group conducting, and succeeding, at this atrocious experiments!\" he snarls.\n\n\"Alright, but why come to me now? Why is this such a big deal now?\" I demand.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;", "I take a step back. This is wrong. Everything he’s ever done, fetching the ball, playing with toys... It was nothing but a petty lie. \n\nMy mouth opens and closes.\n\nNo words.\n\nHe turns back around and checks the clock, huffing under his breath.\n\nA quiet siren rings.\n\nHe looks shocked.\n\nI’m scared.\n\nThen, he pulls on gloves of some sort and opens the oven door, pulling out the bottom tray. He places the tray on the table and looks me directly in the eyes.\n\n\n“I’m going to be a world class chef, and destroy Gordon’s empire.”" ]	2
	[WP] you wake up a morning, realizing that you can see people’s self-granted titles, but when you look in the mirror, you see your title is Murder.	[ "Murderer. It came as no surprise to see that title hanging over my head as I went for a drink, I had murdered my father after all. He had done his best to raise me to be as great a ruler as him, but I had robbed my kingdom of that right, I had killed the greatest ruler my lands had seen in generations. Fair, kind, just, these were the words that his subjects had used to praise him, subjects, who in all their differences had happily allowed him to reign over them all. And I had taken that from them.\n\nMurderer. As I contemplated my past, my gaze travelled over my two sleeping companions. 'Outcast' and 'Coward' their self-titles read. Ironic, those titles could have easily have fit me as well, I had like company it seems. A prince who killed his father, how could I be anything other than an outcast, how could I go back and face my father's people and justify what I'd done? How could I face my closest friend and tell her how I was responsible for the chaos the land had been thrown into as a result of my actions?\n\nMurderer. Meeting my current companions had been a major boon for me, I had been on the brink of death when they found me, but I didn't deserve it. I deserved to have my corpse rotting out in the desert, with vultures feasting on my flesh, a fitting end for someone like me, someone who had caused so much pain and grief to so many. I deserved that and so much more. My two new friends had done their best to cheer me up, not knowing how or why I had found my way to them and I couldn't bring myself to tell them, to risk losing the only thing keeping me going. My friends.\n\nThose two had a strange outlook on life, but one that suited me fine. 'No worries' they said it meant, or in the local tongue,\nHakuna Matatta.\n\n\nLongtime lurker here and writing on mobile so apologies for any formatting errors. My first writing prompt so please be kind. Feedback always appreciated. " ]	1
	[WP] A demon possessed your body recently, forcing you to share a consciousness with it. It claims it did it for your own good. After a series of strange incidents, you start to believe it.	[ "The cold night froze my skin into melting blocks of ice reducing my movement to that of a reciprocating joint. I was hungry and it wasn't helping my mood,I just wanted to finish the dare and be done. There was a certian level of idiocy which literally hurt to watch and I was now successfully part of those who got to that level. That's why I stood in the middle of a random field full of snow edging toward a freaking stone hoping I don't freeze to death before I reached it. After a torturous 5 minutes the stone was in my grasp ,stooping and tall. Full of runes so old that not even the gods could tell of their story. With a crash my fingers stumbled upon the stone and clumsily I touched the runes. Then agonising pain resided within me starting at my finger tips and travelling to my frozen toes, I pulled and fought away from the stone as the pain spiralled into an intense feeling of blackness. Suddenly i was no longer awake.\n\n\n\n\"Are you awake yet mortal?\"\nMortal?what are they talking about. My eyelids slowly slid open to a burning light and a headache began to sing it's song. I surveyed the room and with confusion realised no one was in the room.\n\"Finally mortal thought I'd lost you, would have been a pain you don't understand\"\nI didn't understand this ,he's right but where is the voice coming from? my confusion rushed and I felt the pain in my head increase.\n\"Would you stop thinking, your little brain is causing us both pain\"\nUs?both?\n\"Right .....right .....right....I'm a demon you see and you know that rock ...well yeah, you see it kinda allowed me to possess you. But don't freak out, freaking out humans is a frightful thing. Just relax. \"\nRelax with regretful surge i forced myslef to sit up causing the voice to grow in complaints. This is a dream and when ever you want to get out a dream you just gotta die? Ignore the voice and aim for the window.\n\"Mortal?human?kid? Common think about your actions I'm doing this for your own good a window isn't really a good option either...let me find a vessel maybe before you go splat .\"\nMy own good it was talking crazy things now and I was beginning to come to the conclusion this was not a dream.\n\n\n\n\n Authors note: I was going to right more but I'm already starting to hate it ....I like the first paragraph though xD .\nStill havnt dia9n any unfortunate events but you know that doenst matter right......\n", "It had been three days since the crash. By all means I should've still been in the hospital, or perhaps even dead. The doctors couldn't come up with any logical reason to why I apparently had suffered no injuries. \"It's like his bones were made of steel or something\", I'd hear them say, exchanging theories with one another. There wasn't any reason for them to keep me, I didn't have anything to recover from and I refused to sign the contract saying they could keep me there and have experiments run on me, so they let me go.\n\nBut I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. For whatever reason I kept turning my head to look behind me. I was hearing things clearer, seeing clearer; and everything looked off. For whatever reason it felt like something bad could happen at any point.\n\nI thought back to the crash. What was that figure that chased me into the bus? It kinda looked like it had claws of some kind, or was it just four pointed fingers? It seemed to have wings, like those of a bat, and probably one of the thickest heads of hair I'd ever seen. There were two tufts of hair that sorta... stuck upwards, almost like... horns...\n\nDuck\n\nOut of instinct I ducked down just as a steel beam swung out into the path. I had completely forgot about the construction site on this road, something about a new block of flats since apparently Manchester doesn't have enough of them. But what was that voice? How did I know to duck before actually seeing the beam? \"Weird\", I muttered to myself as I continued walking home. It wasn't the strangest thing that had happened this week. I went to cross the road and-\n\nStop\n\nI immediately froze in place just as some twat in a BMW sped down the road at like 50 mph. Okay, that was odd. The beam I could kinda let slide, I've had similar experiences with false voices. But the second time it sounded too real. I couldn't be imagining it. A voice was coming from somewhere. It felt like it was coming from right-\n\nBehind you\n\nI spun around in place as I was dragged into an alleyway by a hooded figure, knife pointed at my stomach.\n\n\"Give me all your money\" he growled. He was a mugger. He was mugging me.\nGive me control\n\"Hey man, I don't have anything on me\" I pleaded, turning my pockets inside-out.\nHe won't buy it\n\"I said, give me your fucking money\"\n\"I told you, I don't have anything\"\nHe's going to try to stab you\nTry? What does that mean?\n\"You're lying!\"\nThe mugger went for my stomach just as I grabbed his arm and twisted it around, forcing the knife from his hand. \nNext time let me take over from the start\nAs he went for the knife I kneed him in the gut and slammed my elbow into his neck, a look of horror on my face the whole time. What was I doing? What was that voice? The only thing I knew was that I didn't want to be around when he got up, so I legged it. I sprinted home, not letting my thoughts into my head.\n\nJust get home. Just get home. Home is safe. Home is safe.\n\nWhen I got home, nobody was there. It was quiet, nobody could hurt me, I felt safe once again. I felt kinda confident.\n\n\"Okay, just who the fuck are you!\" I stated with my newfound confidence. As I finished my sentence, a shadowy figure emerged from the living room door. It was the thing from the crash. It walked out of the door and towards me with a confidence immediately making my own feel non-existent by comparison. It stopped about 4 feet from me and started talking.\n\n\"Allow me to introduce myself. My name's Reidan. I'm your own personal demon\"", "<Part 1>\n\nI woke to a pounding head and the taste of something foul in my mouth. As I got up, the world spun in all directions and sickness churned inside me. I hadn’t had time to think of the previous night before I lurched over my sleeping girlfriend, hoping to make it to the toilet in time. \n\n‘Honey…?’ Gale began. I couldn’t hear her over the retching I unleashed upon our apartment floor; a trail of last night’s meal leading to the bathroom.\n\nAs I unloaded into the toilet bowl, I heard Gale creep behind and lean into the door frame. She stood there watching, presumably deep in worry. I produced much more than I had consumed the prior night, but I couldn’t really remember what I had done, it was all a blur. \n\n‘How much did I drink last night?’ I asked between contractions.\n\n‘How am I supposed to know that, Jade?’ Gale said, ‘you were acting funny all afternoon then you just vanished!’\n\nI vomited some more as eldritch shapes of unknown colors flashed in my vision, spiriting me away for a brief moment.\n\nAs I leaned against the bathroom wall, Gale flushed the toilet for me and began to wipe my face.\n\n‘That was gross, believe me you do not want to know what was inside you,’ she said with a snicker. \n\nShe flushed the toilet a second time, just in case.\n\n‘Please, some water if you could?’ I asked. ‘I long to relieve myself of the filth that taints my pallet.’\n\n‘Uhh, sure…’\n\nShe made her way to the kitchen briskly as I laid myself upon the refreshing floor. I looked out the window and my sight was oddly clear, as if all in my vision was in its truest form. I felt the heartbeat of the birds I witnessed. Their essence was laid bare before me and it was of purity and innocence.\n\n‘You might want to get up to drink this,’ Gale said as she handed me a cup of murky water. ‘Sorry the water’s all gassy, the pipes are acting up again. You might want to let it sit for a bit.’\n\nI drank eagerly.\n\n“Cleanse yourself”\n\nAnd I vomited into the glass and dropped it, a sudden vertigo afflicting me. The walls began to breathe in deeply and my stomach contents I had just produced writhed about like worms. Then all turned to black.\n\n…\n\nI woke up feeling pretty refreshed. It felt like I had slept way too long, but apart from that all seemed fine. Except for being violently ill, that sucked. I was still in the bathroom with a blanket covering me, my back ached a little but I’ve slept in odder places before.\n\nI made my way to the kitchen and Gale was already fully clothed, eating lunch and giving me the stink eye.\n\n‘I know I know…’ I began.\n\n‘You know it’s kind of rude to leave your girlfriend hanging to go out partying with gods know who? Didn’t stop you from doing it. What the fuck was all that about?’ \n\n‘I’m so sorry Gale, I don’t even remember yesterday. Like at all,’ I reassured her. ‘How’d I even get home?’\n\n‘Beats me,’ she scoffed, ‘you still managed to get home, lock the door and crash into bed. I wanted to berate you, move you to the couch or something, but nothing I did woke you.’\n\nI scratched my head, my locks were all tangled and they smelled like puke. \n\n‘I’m just going to shower real quick, let’s talk about this after, K?’ \n\nShe shrugged, ‘sure. But have some tea first.’ She had a warm cup ready and waiting. ‘My own blend, as always. It’ll make you feel better.’\n\nIt tasted nasty, but it packed a punch and woke me up real good. Much better than coffee. As I took a sip, my gut wrenched and foreign memories flooded my mind.\n\n‘How dare you use this girl’s form to win our bet, Aesh?!’ I bellowed with a deep, sullen voice.\n\nGale smiled and said, ‘look who’s talking Amon.’\n\n<To be continued>\n", "The blade darted forward in a sweeping arc, faster than any peasant could hope to react. It was a death sentence.\n\nBut of course, John leapt back with surgical precision, the blade's arc coming within an inch of his flesh. A lifetime of training, he might not have - but demonic possession was as good substitute as any.\n\n I AM NOT A DEMON, -\n\nThe voice in his head stated, spreading its insidious lies. But John knew better.\n\n I AM AN ENGINEERED GLUCOSE-POWERED SYMBIOTIC ORGANISM, VERSION TWO-\n\nHe tuned it out. It was getting easier and easier. The knight grunted in what might've been surprise, and hefted the heavy blade for another swing. Lunge. Thrust. Slash. Any normal man would've been bleeding out on the dirt.\n\nJohn rolled backward, snatching up a nearby pitchfork without looking. Somehow, his demon had known exactly where it was. He - they - it? caught the blade between the tines. Block. Parry. Twist. Riposte. \n\nIt was all wrong. He wasn't a fighter. Even Twice-Drunk Jack had knocked his teeth out in a bar fight or two, and Jack hadn't exactly received his nickname for his quick reflexes and astounding sobriety.\n\nBut if it was wrong, why did it feel so right? Twist. Disarm. Lunge.\n\nAnd then the knight, an armored Scion of the Hegemony, was flat on the ground with a pitchfork in his face. Right into the faceguard. A peasant weapon.\n\n THIS WOULD BE EASIER IF I WAS GRANTED MORE AUTONOMY.\n\nNever. I won't give in to your tricks, demon. I know this power comes at a price.\n\nThere was an almost audible sigh of frustration inside his head. \n\n YOU MAY NOT HAVE A CHOICE. SIX HOSTILES INCOMING, TWENTY METERS NORTHEAST. THEY WEAR THE SAME PROTECTIVE EQUIPMENT AS YOUR 'KNIGHT'.\n\nWell. He couldn't be exorcised if he was dead, could he? \n\n\nJohn lifted the pitchfork." ]	4
	[WP] You sit in a tavern with your allies when a group of men in red robes enter. Their leader gets on a table, asking for brave adventurers. Before you can do anything, a young man gets up and says he’ll take the job, only to receive a magical bolt to the chest. ‘Anyone else?’ the leader asks.	[ "The moment the young boys body hit the table and spilled the drinks from it, a faint white smoke left his limp body. The drunkenly and boisterous chatter stopped. Those that were the loudest, started whispering and staring into the table like it was the most interesting table in the world. None dared to look at the three men in red robes holding giant clubs with long metal spikes on top, that no ordinary man could lift with two hands. Guests of this tavern were not mere peasants and most of them were adventurers and bounty hunters, but compared to the horrifying men towering over them the spacious room looked more like a gathering of children.\n\n\"I said, are there any brave adventurers here?\" yelled the guy who shot Gydvin. He had a white hood, different to the other two men with red ones. Heartbeats were the only thing you could hear, how silent it was. In this part of the kingdom, far away from the capital, most of the jobs were the usual hunting of small criminals, rescuing kidnapped nobles and killing the few devilhounds that are still left. To meet members of the Queens Bloody Stars was something you would never imagine happening in your lifetime. Maybe you could hear it from a traveler who once heard it from someone they met on their path, but to see them with your own eyes and watch them murder a boy, whose only sin was that he let that awful goatee grow, was bewitching and terrifying at the same time.\n\n\"I didn't expect anything more from this place.\" said the leader and a knife slashed by his ear and hit the wooden wall behind him. Everyone looked at the place where the knife came and there stood a young man in his early twenties, an eye-patch on his left eye.\n\n\"What in the Mother's eye, are the Queen's personal elite guards doing in a backwater place like this?\" snapped the young man, \"Shouldn't you be protecting the Queen's most holy ass or killing those flying monstrosities?! Instead you are here killing young boys who-\". A sound of a crossbow firing cut him short. Luckily the bolt hit the wooden plate which the young man managed to grab and defend with. \"I didn't expect anything more from the likes of you.\" he said, a smug smile appearing on his face.\n\nThe other two Bloody Stars started cautiously approaching the young eye-patch man preparing to swing with their morning stars, while the leader reloaded the crossbow. \" For an inaccurate shitty brat who just left his moms tit, I have to say, you have balls.\" said the leader and put the bolt in its place. \" Next bolt will meet your heart.\" he said a little bit amused, \"Catch him you two, but don't kill him! Now!\"\n\nThe redhoods jumped for the young man from both sides, their massive hands almost catching him. Thankfully the young man was nimble and easily avoided their tries. They jumped around the whole tavern which was now empty in the middle with the rest of the guests either hiding under the tables or pressed against the wall trying not the get caught in the fight. The fight looked almost like a dance, their moves coordinated and fast, even though those giant's heads were almost touching the ceiling. Their morning stars passing inches from the young mans head. One hit would be enough to incapacitate him or even kill if it hit a vital part. The way he moved was not possible for a human.\n\nFinally they got him cornered leaving no space to avoid the next swing. I don't have much time left, thought the young man, I need to end this now, but I have to wait for the exact moment. The spiked clubs came near few inches from his head and chest. NOW!\n\nTo anyone watching this from a distance it looked like he vanished and reappeared in a second behind the back of the two enormous man. Sound of metal hitting a wooden floor echoed in the room. Blood rolled down the face of the redhooded men, a knife sticking out from each head. Their bodies crashed with the wall in front of them.\n\n\"That was close\" the young man sighed with relief, \" almost thought I was a goner.\"\n\nPain struck him and his face went pale when he looked down to see a bolt sticking out of his chest. His legs gave up on him and he slowly dropped to the floor. White smoke poured out of his body, the same as it was with Gydvin. The whitehooded man walked to him and crouched next to him. His face smiling with satisfaction. \" I think you will be just fine for what's to come.\" he grinned and pointed at two men squeezed to the wall, \" You two, take my men out to the carriage.\" He picked up the young man with just one hand, like he was a newborn barely weighting anything, and went to pick up Gydvin just the same. He somehow managed to go trough the door with two grow man laying on his shoulders and left in the darkness.\n\n\\\\\\\n\n\"Wake up, Nad! Wake up!\". The young man opened his eyes to the sound of someone calling him. Gydvin was sitting just beside him and shaking him to wake up. \" Oh, thank the Mother.\" he sighed, \" You are alive. I was not sure if you will ever open your eyes again.\" He helped Nad to stand up and get on his feet and he was stunned at what he saw. Nad was not in the tavern in the little village of Rastaka, nor was he in any part of the land he visited in his life. I don't think this is even on our world,* he thought looking around, but I was killed, so is this the Cradle?\n\nThey were standing on a plateau which seemed to levitate in a sea of darkness, white marble beneath their feet and a tree, that looked like it was made of rock, besides them. Glowing orbs on branches of the tree gave them enough light to see around them, cause the sky was pitch black with no stars or moons. Not so far away they saw few similar glowing white plateaus and something moving on them. Unsure if it was a human like them or animals. A sudden light in the sky and a booming voice caught everyones attention.\n\n\"Dear adventurers and those who call themselves that, please accept my sincere apologies for bringing you here in such a manner.\" said a gentle but stern female voice, \"I am in dire need of your help and the faith of your kingdom and your loved ones lies now in your hands\". People started to riot and it sounded like there were now thousands of them, each occupying their plateau.\n\n\"I am sorry but you have no choice. Your bodies and souls are in my possession now. Those of you who succeed will be rewarded personally by me, your Queen Midrija, Daughter of Sanus the Supreme, on that I swear. With your lives back and eternal glory as Saviors!\" her voice roared in this weird place.\n\n\"So, I guess that the good thing is we are not dead, Gydvin\", Nad looked at Gydvin with an excited smile, \" Let us do our best it stays that way.\".\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\nPS: This took me a lot of time. Sorry for posting it this late but this is my 2nd prompt, and English is my 2nd language so mistakes are inevitable. Feel free to tell me what you think of it :)" ]	1
	[WP] The Voyager probes go offline many years before they were expected too. 3 years after they go offline, it is discovered they have crashed in the deserts of Africa. Welded together, They are covered with an unknown organic material that is expanding at a scary rate.	[ "I stepped out onto the hot Sahara desert out of my truck along with the rest of the recovery crew. And lo and behold, both voyager probes were sitting there, crushed into a heap of metal. As we got closer, there was something we noticed about the wreckage, something the satellite pictures did not show us. There appeared to be some growth on the probes that looked like some wired fleshy fungus. It had confused us all.\n\nMy recovery team's leader then stubbornly pushed away all his feelings of concern and confusion and ordered one of us to gather a sample of the mass for further study. We each tried to shift the job from one to another. But someone was eventually chosen to confront the alien matter. He nervously approached the alien matter with a knife to cut off one piece for a sample.\n\nAs the blade made contact with the mass, it instantly began to grow over it. it eventually grew over onto the man's hand and began to assimilate him. We all stepped back in fear, guns drawn, as he was struggling helplessly against the mass. He lay motionless as he was fully covered in the alien substance. Then, out of nowhere, the blob that was him began to go into intense convulsions as if something was trapped in there.\n\nThe blob suddenly began to change shape as this happened. When its metamorphosis was complete, the blob had turned into a rabid alien creature, ready to kill. we tried to shoot it, but it was too fast. It then proceeded to slash one of us with its claws, and then he was infected with the alien disease. He also metamorphosed into another abomination, but this one had his gun fused into its right arm. It then proceeded to shoot at us with nearly perfect accuracy, without aiming down the sights, I should add.\n\nWe were all running back to the truck at this point. As I got in, I could see the chaos that ensued behind me. I started it up, and then tried to accelerate, but I could not. I soon found out that the truck itself was being assimilated! I then realized that the back door was my only option for survival, So I desperately climbed over every seat in my way and all the equipment that we left inside.\n\nI somehow made it to the back. The adrenaline boost really saved my life when I kicked that door open. As I jumped out onto the hot sand, I felt something grab my leg. I knew it was over. I instinctively looked back at what The Infection, that is what I am calling this alien invader, had turned the truck into. It was now about to eat me alive. I tried to cut of the tendril that had a hold of me, but it responded by quickly bringing me to its mouth. I was then swallowed whole by the fowl beast and placed in its stomach. I could only look forward to eternity as I was being digested, slowly and painfully." ]	1
	[WP] You picked up an abandoned kitten that was on the street, and you care for it deeply. 2 years later, your beloved cat... evolves.	[ "What the shit. Just a few seconds ago, Mittens was a tiny adorable little kitten. He had been perfectly healthy at the vet for two years and now I'm staring down the maw of a cat the size of a mountain lion. Mittens still recognized me, it seemed, but I was absolutely certain that I did not recognize him.\n\n\"What the hell!\" I shouted. I wasn't sure what else to do, how was I supposed to explain this to everybody? Oh yeah, so my cat is a fucking mountain lion now, so that's cool. Wouldn't exactly have any buyers. All I did was feed him and give him a home, not anything special. I saw Mittens' eyes as he looked at me with curiosity. Almost like he wanted to see what I would do next.\n\nI picked up my phone. I planned initially to call a vet to see if they could give me a breakdown of what was going on here. Then I thought about what they might do or say. Mittens was the world to me. I lived alone with him and I had moved far away from my family. I worked pretty much to sustain myself and my cat. But now he's massive!\n\nI began to search the internet. I wasn't even sure what to search, Cat suddenly quadruples in size? Mittens looked at me quizzically, turning his head as if to ask what I was doing.\n\n\"Don't look at me, I'm not the one who literally just changed!\" I yelled at him. He came over and put his head on my lap while I sat on the couch. I was trying to find anything relating to the real world, but the closest thing I could find was in Pokemon.\n\nFrustrated, I threw my phone down. How was I going to feed my pet now? More than that, how would I explain this to my landlord? I opted to keep this a secret as long as I could, that is until Mittens decided to let out a short shout, almost. I hushed him and got up to go to bed.\n\nAs I walked into my bedroom, I realized that Mittens was far to big for his old bed now. More than that, what would he eat? I couldn't very well afford to buy his food, we barely made it as it was. Then my phone rang.\n\n\"Hello?\" I answered tentatively. It wasn't uncommon for me to get spam calls or advertisements or scams.\n\n\"Is this Jordan Baker?\" said the voice on the other side of the phone.\n\n\"No, I'm afraid you have the wrong number.\"\n\n\"Do you know Jordan?\" the person asked. It sounded like an old man on the other end of the phone. I figured he was looking for his grandkid or somebody else.\n\n\"No, sorry, I don't. Have a good day now,\" I was just about to hang up when he protested.\n\n\"Wait, wait then how do you have the cat!?\" I froze.\n\n\"What cat?\" I asked tentatively.\n\n\"The one that just changed in front of you, how did you get ahold of it?\" I couldn't answer him. I wasn't sure what was going on. I had found Mittens on the street, but somehow I didn't think that answer would satisfy this old man. I hung up in a panic. All I knew now was that I was going to keep Mittens safe. The old man had given me some very creepy vibes through the phone.\n\nThe phone rang again. The same number as before. I picked it up.\n\n\"What do you want?\" I could hear the old man coughing up a storm on the other side.\n\n\"Tell me how you got the cat.\" he said again.\n\n\"He was a stray, now would you kindly hang up and never call me again?\" The man was quiet for a moment.\n\n\"If you want answers, find Jordan. He'll know what to do.\" then the voice cut out, and the line went completely dead. Mittens looked at me with curiosity.\n\n\"Guess we have a mission, little buddy.\" I said to my cat. Whoever Jordan Baker was, I needed to find out what my cat was, how the old man knew my number, and what the hell was going on." ]	1
	[WP] While tidying up, you spot a small spider in the corner of the room. You think to yourself "I really don't like spiders", but to your suprise you hear a timid voice state "humans aren't so great either".	[ "\"Sounds like we may have something in common after all\" you say, wondering if you've lost your mind. But the teeny voice replies:\n\n\"Yes. He he. Its kind of ironic isnt it?\"\n\n\"It really is\" you say, reaching into your pocket. \"But not as ironic as THIS is gonna be!\"\n\nYou yank your lighter out of your pocket and with a flick you call forth fire, man's most primal ally against the darkness. You advance on the abomination, snatching up your aerosol hairspray on the way.\n\nThe monster dives to the left, deploying a web and comes swinging at you from an angle, but your improvised flamethrower catches it before it can reach you. It releases it's web and tumbles into the shag carpet which is now slightly on fire. Lucky you are wearing your combat boots. Good for both fire and talking spiders.\n\n\"Take that!\" you shout smashing your warboot down, but the little beast dodges. You lunge for it, but the thing is light on its 8 feet, and you go down, tripping over your laundry basket. The flames are spreading a little, but first things first! Kill the beast!\n\nOnly now the little creeper has gone into stealth mode.\n\nYou hear its gloating little laugh.\n\n\"Where am I?\" Its voice is both everywhere and nowhere at once. \"Am I in your sock drawer?\"\n\nYou seize a nearby lamp and pound the dresser just in case, but the gloating voice continues. \"Or am I in the shower?\"\n\nYou dash that way, and turn on the sprayer, hosing everything you can reach.\n\n\"Ha ha ha ha!\" Its laughter is maddening. \"Or maybe I'm in the light fixture, waiting for you?\"\n\nYou pivot, looking for something, a book, anything to smash the lights with, but the voice continues.\n\n\"Or maybe, I'm just a figment of your overwrought imagination. Lurking here, spinning cobwebs in your brain, driving you insane!\"\n\n\"Nooo!\" You scream, driven to your knees by its taunting. You claw at your hair, your face. \"Get out get out get out!!\"\n\n\" Ha ha ha ha!\" The thing chuckles, a deep sinister sound. \"Attercop. Attercop. Down you drop. You'll never catch me, spinning in your tree\"\n\n\"No!\" You shout \"No! Get out of my mind! I can't go back there, I can't go back! I'm not crazy anymore, I take my pills, I can't go back there! Get out, GET OUT DAMN YOU!!!\"\n\nBut the voice only laughs again.\n\n\"Or maybe I'm real\" it says. \"And maybe...\"\n\n--your skin crawls and you feel an eerie prickling on your neck.\n\n\"Maybe\" the voice continues, quietly, stealthily \"I'm right here.\"\n\nSomething huge and black suddenly dives out of your hair, right into your eyes blotting out everything else! You stagger backwards in helpless terror!\n\n\"RIGHT HERE IN YOUR FACE!!!!\"" ]	1
The previous prompt I wrote like this one got really popular, so I wanted to see if lightning could strike twice.	[WP] You finally made it to Arlington National Cemetery, except you’re a new groundskeeper. For a cemetery, it sure gets loud at night.	[ "Afghanistan was enough for a lifetime. The constant gunfire, the death of my best friend, and paranoia was getting to me. After my last tour, I thought enough was enough. I didn't sign up for another one and went to a shrink. The psychiatrist told me that the most important thing I need to do in order to blend back into civilian life, was to find a job. So here I am, the new groundskeeper for Arlington National Cemetery. It doesn't really scare me really. After what I've seen in Afghanistan, apparition and voices is a cake walk. However, I can't deny that I was scared shitless my first time seeing them, the veterans. Not the alive ones, the dead ones. At exactly 1 AM they all wake up. You know how us military guys are, always right on the dot.\n\nAn apparition that looked like the spitting image of JFK came up to me as I did my first night round.\n\n\"Hey son, you must be new here\" JFK said\n\nAwestruck but scared at the same time, I couldn't come up with a single word to reply.\n\n\"It's ok, James was like that his first night on the job too. Just follow me\" JFK said as he gestured his hands for me to follow along. If I recall, James was the previous groundskeeper that retired.\n\n\"I'll give you a layout of the cemetery so when you're walking around here next time, you know where all of the boys are. I'll introduce you\" JFK told me with an odd enthusiasm.\n\n\"Alright son, this section right here are where all of the Civil War vets rest. Both Confederate and Union soldiers hang around here, so it does get pretty noisy\" JFK pointed to a group of apparitions wearing civil war attire. He whistled to an apparition, and he walked to us.\n\n\"Say hello to Private Christman, the first soldier to be buried here.\" JFK introduced me to a very handsome and young man.\n\n\"Honored to meet you sir\" I said as I reached my hand out for a handshake. The private chuckled and did a military salute instead. I'm so dumb.\n\n\"Hello, which branch did you serve in?\" Christman asked\n\n\"U.S Navy sir. Seal Team 6\" I replied. Christman looked at me puzzled.\n\n\"Okay well I'm going to pretend to know what that meant. I will be going now. Some of the boys there are getting restless. We're going to settle today once and for all who were better soldiers. Union or Confederate. This is going to end in a arm wrestling contest\" Christman told me as he walked away to a rowdy bunch of soldiers huddled in a circle.\n\n\"Just so you know, they do that everyday. They never decided who won or lost. That's why they're still ghosts here. They never let go of the Civil War. Poor bastards.\" JFK told me \" well anyway onto the next one and I suggest you be ready for this one. It could get dark\"\n\nAs we walked further down the park, the silence of the night was overcame by faint sobbing and crying. As we approached the area that JFK said was designated for WWI vets, the crying got louder. There we saw a few apparitions sitting on their graves, with their hands over their faces, sobbing. If you looked closer on the detail of their skin, you could see welts and burn marks.\n\n\"This is the worst part of the cemetery. I hate coming here, but who else would comfort these boys. James did his best, but a few of them remain here, yet to ascend to heaven. The suffering that was WWI reflected upon these guys. Many of them died terrible deaths, due to gas attacks and being burned alive. Some of them never realized they were dead. So they spend their afterlives reliving the moment they died, which was usually being suffocated or being burned by gas\" JFK told me with a somber tone. JFK was right. World War I was a needlessly bloody war. Many young men were drafted right into the grinder, and some of them died in the most horrible way. \"Anyway, onto the next part\"\n\nJFK and I walked up a hill and back down again and arrived at the designated area for WWII vets. There was but a group of 4 apparitions sitting around a table playing cards and listening to what sounded like a recording of the 1945 world series.\n\n\"Why are there so few of them?\" I asked JFK.\n\n\"Because most of them have moved on, son. A lot of the WWII guys were volunteers. They knew what they were heading into, and when they died, they died with little regret. Those guys are the only ones still here. They're the exceptions. I can imagine there are more like them around the world\" \n\n\"What do you mean?\" I asked.\n\n\"To some of them, the war never ended. Just like the WWI guys, the reason why they are still here is because something is tying them here. When they shipped off to the war and died, they never made it to the end of the war. So they felt that they have not completely finished their duty to their country\" JFK explained.\n\n\"Wow, that's some dedication\"\n\n\"That's why they're called the greatest generation\" JFK told me in admiration.\n\nJFK then lead me to the Vietnam War section and boy were they rowdy. As we walked closer and closer to that section, a slight discomfort was shown on Kennedy's face. He looked as if he was trying to avoid eye contact with that area in general. He glanced over at me and realized that I was puzzled by his expressions. He sighed.\n\n\"I sent them to their deaths, son\" JFK told me in a broken voice.\n\n\"But didnt Lyndon B Johnson send most of the troops to Vietnam? Not you\" I replied\n\n\"Yes, but my foreign policies were the build up that lead to that disaster in Vietnam\" JFK clenched his fist \"a few years after I showed up here in Arlington, the first wave of Vietnam War vets were buried here. Most of them came and shook my hand, but some of them wouldn't even look at me in the eyes. They blamed me for their deaths and for the deaths of their friends and family, but rightfully so. I had sent young men to that jungle to die for a war that we shouldn't have been in. Some of them haven't even reached the age of 20 before they died. That's why these apparitions are the rowdiest. They died before they could live life to the fullest. They died before they could dance to rock n roll again. They died before they could take their girlfriends to the ice cream parlor and screw around with other kids their age.\"\n\nIf it wasn't obvious before, it's obvious now. JFK is here because he regretted the Vietnam war.\n\nJFK relaxed and his gloom was gone. He then lead me to the final area of the cemetery, the section that was designated for vets that died in the Middle East. From Iraq to Afghanistan, they were all here. Unlike the Civil War and Vietnam War vets, these guys were a different kind of rowdy. They argued amongst themselves, not who were tougher or who won the war, but about why they were at war. Some of them argued that the war was necessary as the middle east became more volatile. And the others argued that they shouldn't have been in the middle east to begin with. The debate felt endless as each of them tried arguing over each other.\n\n\"Us millenials do like a good argument\" I said with a slight smirk.\n\nSome of these guys' faces I recognize from other units, but one face stood out the most. My best friend Jack. I had almost forgotten he was buried here as well. How could I forget this guy. He took a bullet for me and died on the streets of Afghanistan. The apparition walked towards me.\n\n\"You motherfucker, I didn't know you're working here\" Jack said to me then turned to JFK and saluted. \"Pleasure to meet you Mr. President\"\n\n\"At ease son. Well I guess you guys have catching up to do. So I'll leave you to it\" JFK left with his usual charistmas smile beaming at us.\n\n\"We have a lot of catching up to do\" I told Jack.\n\n\"That we do buddy\" He replied. We sat on that field for hours talking about everything and anything until the sun came up.\n" ]	1
	[WP] The vessel, first of its kind, zipped past Pluto in an instant. As it reached the edges of our solar system a message appeared from the void saying: Warning, you are leaving the tutorial zone.	[ "Alf stared at the message, the glass panes of the Misled (Awful name, in her opinion) fogging up with pale breath. The tutorial zone? Every insect, every fish, every beautiful animal on the surface of her home, Earth- a mere test? She was virtually alone in the vast expanse of the stars, save her fifteen or so coworkers belowdecks who were in a forced coma. She herself piloted the starship hooked up to life-preservation gear. The message blinked four times, then disappeared. The strange friction holding the Misled stopped, and shot forwards like never before. Alf fell back, short blond hair falling around her pale skin. Luckily, pads were there to save her IV and prevent bruises. The glass was designed not to break, but not at this crazy velocity- would it survive? All her worries drifted away, however, as the starry matter fell away like a great curtain. They were now hurtling through a blue sky, not unlike Earth's beloved one. They flew past green fields and golden wheat, slowly descending all the while. Alf looked around, frantic- and found the two buttons she was looking for. Her skinny hands pressed the panels gently until the gear fell away and a shout of surprise came from the gallows of the ship. Her friends were awake now, at last. As Alf landed in a purple-tinged meadow filled with strange flora, she felt at home. Jess, a friend of hers, came above to see the sights of strange-plumed animals gallop in the air above, majestic wings carrying it about. She signaled for the crew to come out, and as Alfie Evergreen stepped outside of the ship for the first time in days, the grass lost its purple hue, turning to a hideous gray. The sky turned brown as if filled with dirt, and the noble animals above became a mere shower of dust. \n\nThey'd killed this newfound civilization." ]	1
	[WP] You wake up from a coma being the only peron to be on this planet. You must follow the traces of humanity and what happened to them.	[ "Slowly, carefully, my eyes open. The light is blinding, ceiling is bright, stinging and immediately causing a headache.\n\nHowever, I force myself to keep them open. My neck feels stiff, I can barely move my head. Felt eternities later, I am able to inspect my surroundings. Everything is white, the world though covered in a blue filter, as if my eyes had been closed a long time.\n\nWhere am I?\n\nMy smelling senses come back next. The steril scent burns in my nose. A hospital.\n\nWhy am I here?\n\nAs my body starts to ache, I try to remember. Slowly, I rewind my memory. An accident? Maybe. Probably a car accident. That’s likely.\n\nI press my shoulders back and straightened my back. Though it hurts, it feels good.\n\nWho am I?\n\nMy thoughts are slow, as if I’m trying to identify them through thick fog.\nIf I’m here because of a car accident, I’m probably just an ordinary guy.\n\nWhere is everyone?\n\nI shoot up. Pain flows through my body, stinging, but I ignore it.\n“Hello?”\n\nMy throat aches from the single word. I haven’t spoken in quite a while, apparently. How long was I asleep?\n\nI look around again. No soul in sight.\nWell, I’m in a single hospital room. It’s logical no one is here.\n\nHesitantly, I place my bare feet on the cool floor. It takes a while, but eventually, I stand, even though I feel dizzy and dissociated.\n\nHeading toward the door, the world feels as if it’s spinning around me. That’s probably normal.\n\nI turn the door knob and finally, open the door, catching a glimpse of the corridor.\n“Hello?”\n\nI ask out into it, hearing my voice echo through.\n“Hello?!”, I exclaim now, slowly feeling panic welling up inside me.\nWhere are they?\n\nI decide to look for them myself. Through the corridor I wander, opening all doors I come across to look inside.\nStill, no one.\n\nI start yelling again, inside slowly realising it being of no use.\n“Where-“\nLoosing my breath, I frantically start to fasten my pace in which I pace through the corridors. My footsteps echo loudly, and being the only noise, they feel unbelievably loud. Hectically, my movements become more erratic.\n\n“Help!”\n\nThe dizziness returns to me, forcing me to stop my exploration and lean against a wall.\n\nI feel myself hyperventilating.\nI’m alone. Hell, I’m alone. All alone. That’s not possible. This is a hospital. There needs to be someone here!\nUnless...\n\nWhat if no one is here at all?\n\nMy glancing becomes hectic again. A phone. I need to call someone. Anyone.\n\nWell, if I’m in a hospital, shouldn’t there be some kind of nurse room? They should have a phone.\n\nI pace back a few steps, remembering having seen one just a second ago.\n\nOnce I reached the room, I look for a phone.\n“Phone... Phone... Phone...”, I start to mutter passively.\nWhere is it? It should be standing right here.\nWhile noticing my muttering grew louder, I open cupboards, push away paper sheets, not caring if they hit the ground or not. I was alone, why should I?\n\n“Phone... Phone! Hell, where is the phone?!”\n\nThey have to have a phone!\nThe room looked awful at this point, I had to be careful to not slip on one of the various files and sheets on the ground. \nThen, in the corner of my eye, I see something reflecting the light, hitting my eye.\n\n“There!”\n\nI rush over to it, phoning the first number that came to mind. Maybe it’s the only one I still remember.\n911\nMy breath shallow and shaky, I wait for the beeping to stop.\n\n“The number you chose is not available. Please-“\n\nI drop the phone onto the ground before it could finish the error message. It shatters into millions of pieces, loudly ripping the silence apart. \n911 isn’t working.\n\nI’m alone.\nNot in the hospital, in the US. Hell, probably even the world, if it continues like this. \nI sink down, leaning onto the nurse’s desk, until I sat next to pile of shattered glass.\n“help...”, I mutter, growing a headache as my thoughts become to much for me to handle, “Help!”\n\nI hug my legs, covering my face with my knees.\n“Help!”, I cry out, hot tears of despair running down my cheeks, “HELP!”\n\n——————\n\n“Doctor! Thank god you’re here.”\nStevenson, the assistant of the doctor entering the room, nodded gladfully, handing the chart to the attending physician.\n\n“Stevenson, what’s the urgent issue?”\n\nThe assistant bit his lip and first pointed at the chart, then out the glass window.\n\nThe observational room in which they stood had a door immediately leading to the subject.\n\nThe doctor skimmed through the pages on the chart.\n\nMeanwhile, his assistant summed up the current situation.\n“He was in an artificial coma when they brought him in. We lowered the meds, and he almost immediately woke up.”\nStevenson shrugged.\n“He was like this since then. Thought it was just confusion at first, you know, needing time to recover from the anaesthesia.”\n\nHe stepped toward the glass window, watching the young man sitting against the wall, occasionally screaming. The sounds were deafened by the walls.\n“It’s been 23 hours, and he’s completely unresponsive.”\n\nThe doctor pushed the chart onto one of the residents standing around in the room. It was quite crowded, everyone wanted to hear about the urgent case of insanity that caused such baffled physicians that they called the overseeing doctor. And truly, he was world famous, only called to the most exciting of cased.\n\nNevertheless, he stepped next to Stevenson and looked at the man in front of him.\n\nThe patient was rambling, screaming, crying erratically, sometimes jumping and throwing none- existing objects through the room.\n\nThe doctor nodded, deep in thoughts.\n“Well, it’s a good decision you brought me into this case.”" ]	1
	[WP] You're cleaning out your computer when you notice a file with an unfamiliar extension. Curious, you open it. As it runs, it downloads thousands of new files named after everything you've ever head of. Turns out the world is a simulation, and you've just gained access to the source code.	[ "I opened the file, and scrolled through thousands upon thousands of folders. Tree_textures12.java\nHumans_Male_America_1991.java\nI opened the file, it was a human object to instantiate for males born in 1991.\nI browsed the methods of the Class, after MUCH scrolling, and there it was.\n\nI studied the different Classes for some time before I finally decided I would try an edit.\nI went back to the directory.\nCtrl+F, main.\nI opened main, and scrolled past all the boring bits, like Trees.pain(); and found my constructor.\nHumans_Male_America_1991 max_darrens172836 = new Humans_Male_America_1991();\n\nI went to the top of main();.\n\nIf( max_darrens172836.isVisible() == 1 ){\n\nHumans_Females.lust() = true;\n\n}" ]	1
	[WP] You can bring one other person into the time loop with you.	[ "\"When I woke up this morning, I didn't really think to myself 'Hey, let's go to Switzerland!'\"\n\nJackson crossed his arms and tried to glare as much as he could while squinting and blinking at the bright headlights shining into is face from the green pickup truck idling in the middle of his apartment's parking lot. Between the lights and himself stood the grinning figure of Jackson's former roommate, exiled time-traveler, and general pain-in-the-ass to all who ever met him. \n\nHis name was Zeke. \n\nZeke was as annoying as a person could be when they have the ability to loop time in order to find the exact way to bully or convince you to do whatever they want you to. He wore a classic leather jacket that was straight from an eighties dance video, acid-wash jeans, and a handful of piercings that never seemed to be in the same spot they had been the last time Jackson had seen him.\n\n\nJackson knew this, which is why he made it his personal mission in life to be just as irritating to Zeke as Zeke was to the rest of the world.\n\n\"I got a line on a private jet, man! We can be there in like, eight hours!\" \n\nJackson blinked slowly and tried to wake his mind up enough to deal with this. \n\n\"I have work.\"\n\n\"So?\"\n\n\"Most people work to make money, Zeke.\"\n\n\"I'll figure something out. Gimme your phone. I'll talk to your b-\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"C'mon! Look, You gotta understand-\"\n\n\"Zeke, do you remember what happened the last time I went with you?\"\n\n\"Well, we met that chick with the green dress and-\"\n\n\"No, before that.\"\n\n\"The car chase? Look, man, I'm sorry about the damage, you know that. I've even got a line on a nice Miata to replace-\"\n\n\"No, before that.\"\n\n\"Uh, the thing with the Steam cards and the Ukrainians?\"\n\n\"No. Well, yes, but no... the other one.\"\n\n\"Look, that explosion was NOT my- Ok, it was only like... thirty percent my fault, at best! And insurance covered it, so you're not homeless or anything!\"\n\n\"Zeke...\"\n\n\"Aw, man! Just let me explain! Look, I know the last few loops haven't been, ya know, that great or whatever, but I got this one. Trust me.\"\n\nJackson pounded his fist against his own forehead a few times.\n\n\"Look, just come with me to Versoix-\"\n\n\"Where?\"\n\n\"It's the north part of Geneva.\"\n\n\"...in Switzerland.\"\n\n\"Yes!\" Zeke grabbed Jackson by the shoulders. \"Will you just stop for one second and let me explain?\"\n\nJackson groaned in a way that only a man woken up at two in the morning for the stupidest of reasons could manage. It lasted at least five seconds.\n\n\"Fiiiiine.\"\n\n\"Ok, so we hit the airport! I loop us a nice jet. We hit Geneva, I mean Versoix, well, kinda the same thing... then I give us a fourteen hour loop where we can eat whatever we want and we-\"\n\n\"WHY?\"\n\n\"For their annual chocolate festival.\"\n\nJackson blinked at the eager, overly-excited face of his former roommate.\n\n\"...I'm listening.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Out of nowhere you began experiencing every day twice before moving on to the next day, creating two separate timelines: Day 1 and Day 2. It's been 5 years since it started.	[ "Well, okay. The first thing I did was cheat the lottery. I kept a normal life on my first days, and made sure to watch the 10pm Powerball drawings. Then, on my second day, I’d invest in a few ‘random numbers’. Rags to riches, and all that.\n\nIn my first life, I’m well enough off, second class life suits me. In my second life, I’m a billionaire with a want for nothing. In my first life I’ve got a girlfriend, we suit eachother well. In my second life, I’m single, but there’s a girl out there that’s loving life.\n\nIn my first life, I join the army. I feel the need to help my country. In my second life, I’m learning martial arts because I can.\n\nAs it turns out, when I die in one life, I still live in the other. In my first life I got struck by an IED, and in my second life I now work to prove the existence of an afterlife.\n\nIt’s not ‘heaven’ or anything, but it’s not bad..." ]	1
	[WP] You've been playing a stellar game for a couple days now, playing as an alien species. It's going pretty good until you discover earth in-game and make contact. Later that day on the news they announce that first contact has been made with a species exactly the same as the one in your game.	[ "I was always jealous of my Ben, he was rich enough thanks to bitcoin believe it or not to get anything he wanted, including all the AAA games he could get his hands on, while I was usually stuck with a knock off. This time however, Ben was enjoying himself so much he had to share, and hacked out a pirated version of the game for me. That really got me excited, see, Ben was an extremely professional gamer when it came to this kind of game, in that he valued numbers and knew how to get them. His monstrosities spread like a plague, devouring the galactic civilization, turning entire species into slaves that couldn’t so much as think about rebelling without a bomb planted in their head going off, and when they died, they were made into food for the others. After seeing such a gruesome playstyle I wanted to play but make a better world, a utopia on every planet, prove his ways wrong, but the numbers just didn’t amount. In any game I play my first run is always the nice guy, the scientific victory, everyone’s friend, so I knew what I was doing, so I decided to expand my domain and get more people involved to provide the resources I needed to best Ben. In our travels one of the scouts reported a new species on a blue planet. I had a small chuckle at the Easter egg, a the human race was right here, but I suddenly felt bored and looked at the time. Gosh, 8:20 already? No wonder! I’ve been here for hours! Thinking it’s high time to get dinner going I quickly make a diplomatic contact and solve a few world problems like world hunger to get on humanity’s good side and quit the game. The next morning I flick the news on as I’m making breakfast, I wasn’t play it much mind until I heard the word ‘Cosmarians,’ the name of my species. I ran to the TV, but I knew it before I even made it to the sofa. Tall, silver-scaled beings with four arms and an air of confidence yet kindness, like an older sibling who would look out for you by my own design. I watched with slack jaw as the reporters showed them feeding the hungry, ending wars, uniting countries and helping with infrastructure all before my eyes! All the humans on the screen were acting as though they had been friends their whole lives, even though the news outlets stated they arrived mere hours ago. I flipped through some channels and they were all showing the same thing, this was either real or an over the top prank. I decided to check up on my game, and was greeted with similar messages. ‘Earth hunger solved, allegiance increased! ‘Earth wars ended, allegiance increased!’ And so on. I needed a second to take everything in. Had I just saved the world? Was this really under my control? Could I come out as the hero? Would my species recognize me? So many questions, so few answers. I took a few breaths and decided to check up on the rest of my empire. Nothing much to see, which made sense as to my society a new ally was a weekly occurrence. Deciding to look for a way to prove who I was I started searching the game for anything that could help when I heard a scream from the TV. I turned my head to see a camera pointed at the sky, looking directly at a ship I’ve seen once before, the work of a madman was apparent with its cruel yet elegant design. The ship’s front was a massive steel skull that was quite literally armed to the teeth. A cloaking device prevented you from seeing anything else but I knew the name of the ship, ‘benevelant manslaughter.’\n\nPart 2?", "My spoon clattered on my floor, freshly freed from my gaping maw. If it could my jaw would have hit the floor, on the television screen meeting the president was the CuddleBugs. A CuddleBug is a mixture of a teddy bear and a butterfly, small cute teddy bear body with butterfly wings and fuzzy antenna. I'd know the adorable little creature anywhere because it was my custom race in Star Searcher: Search for the Edge of the Search.\n\nI ran into Star Searcher a little while ago, some random torrent I grabbed because the title was so odd. I figured it would just be some indie developer that cranks out a thousand games a year, believing I might get a couple hours of comedy out of it, before never touching it again. What I didn't account for was Star Searcher being the most in-depth space simulator imaginable.\n\nThousands of Planetary societies simulated from the tribal stages to space-faring races, with the ability to tweak every policy from Diplomatic Relations to Crosswalk Maintenence. That isn't even touching on the frankly ludicrous amount of options I had in the race creation screen, everything from the element they breathe down to their flavor palate. I didn't want to put that much work into it so I just decided to use the drag and drop option to make their appearance and have everything else generated from that.\n\nI made the CuddleBugs as mostly a joke, a species that looked like a bunch of girl cartoon vomited it up. But I figured I'd keep playing them until they died off for fun. My CuddleBugs started off as a small tribe in a river valley, and from there I got to live their full history. The first kingdom of Lotsahugs. The rise of the Emperor Snugglepaws and his eventual death at the battle of Cupcake Ridge. The years and years of Fleufal Systam, which was basically the Feudal System with a sunnier name. The Great Sleepytime a plague which decimated the island nation of Angeltown, and it's subsequent industrialization. Millennia upon millennia of history building up until they eventually broke the Hoppsybop Continuum and reached Faster The Light travel. At this point, the joke was riding high and I saw no reason to stop it, the problem was I have a sick sense of humor.\n\nYou see, while the CuddleBugs might look like the best children's toy of 2005 on the outside. I decided to make their insides the most vile and destructive I possibly could. CuddleBugs valued deceit and domination over all things. Their signature move being to purposely disable part of their ship and send a distress call to a new species they'd discover, then they would play the sweet and innocent victims of an attack by another nearby species. They'd ask the planet for help and then have them go to war with the other species until both sides were nearly decimated than the Gigglepie Fleet would arrive on mass, and with their Battle Huggers they would wipe out the remaining forces until there was no one remaining being extra careful to ensure no one fled to warn others. Then they would erase any remnants of the former species and set up colorful happy looking colonies to lure in more potential victims.\n\nTheir favorite targets were underdeveloped species, where they would 'benevolently' share the gifts of FTL and Advance Space weaponry so that the species could 'defend themselves' against the evil horde that had chased them to the system. This went on for centuries as they gobbled up more and more of the galaxy, wiping out some species before they even had a chance to move two lightyears outside of their home systems. This lead to the formation of the Happy Time Imperium, an empire of multicolored death and destruction that spanned half the known galaxy. By this point, the rest of the space-faring communities of the galaxy had found out the truth about the CuddleBugs and had collected together under a single banner to wipe the cuddly menace from the galaxy.\n\nThey were made up of about a few dozen different space-faring races though five species served as the majority of their forces. The Sentient Slimebals of Gizzigaida, what had once been a race of peaceful religious nomads who joined the fight after their homeworld was 'cleaned' by the CuddleBugs, though on the outside they were mostly giant masses of stinking slime. They were considered the kindest and most charitable race in the galaxy. \n\nThey were joined by the Reptillians a race of reptile poets who'd inscribed much of the beauty of the galaxy to paper, even if their poems sounded like just angry gnarled hissing. They joined the alliance after they realized most of the wonderous people and places they had written about were now gone because of the CuddleBugs. \n\nFollowed by the TerraBots, a race of sentient terraforming robots whose only goal was to terraform planets to be as comfortable as they could be for the inhabitants, often times bring them back from the brink of ecological collapse. They joined because of the unsustainable colonies the CuddleBugs liked to set up where the entire planet was made to serve a single purpose, that purpose usually being to make some form of candy or chocolate even if the plants and farms destroyed all the natural flora and fauna of the planet.\n\nNext was the Steve Collective, a half religious order half hivemind of people that all consented to be joined as one mind. All members take the name Steve to match the name of the founder. Though they appear to lack individuality and that they have been homogenized into a single voice their mindscape holds the individual minds of all in a paradise like a dream state. They joined the fight as the collective took in more and more refugees of the CuddleBugs and saw the terror they inflicted.\n\nFinally was GrumbleBugs, a slave race created by a CuddleBug science time to serve as cheap labor for the Imperium. They looked like CuddleBugs without the wings, and if the teddy was taken out of the bear. While they looked like lumbering monsters compared to the CuddleBugs they were actually just as sweet inside as the CuddleBugs were on the outside. In a bloodless Rebellion, a group of GrumbleBugs managed to escape and join up with the alliance to one day free all the GrumbleBugs still locked in bondage.\n\nThe Alliance tries it's best to fight diplomatically, and only rises to force in defense, but it was still annoying to my game. Because of the benevolence and kind souls of the various races they were able to convince the many races of the galaxy about the dangers of dealing with the CuddleBugs and traveling in their space. This had slowed what had been a mighty march across the galaxy down to a crawl as most 'disabled' CuddleBug ships were simply shot down when they first appeared. With the contacted species turtling up until the Alliance could arrive to fight off the fleet. \n\nI honestly thought it was time to start a new game until I discovered Earth. Earth was a planet that fell in the wild zone, space not contacted by the alliance since most species were still underdeveloped and the Alliance didn't feel it was right to elevate underdeveloped races before they had the time to discover the mysteries of space travel by themselves. A scruple that the CuddleBugs most definitely didn't share. I thought it was a fun Easter Egg that it was included in the game, and since I needed an ace to start fighting back against the alliance why not try recruiting humans to do it?\n\nSo instead of the usual strategy, I actually sent an envoy to the planet. Five of the cutest CuddleBugs of the Imperium. They approached the leaders of the Earth with an olive branch of friendship and a plea for help. They spun tales of how their evil opposites the GrumbleBugs had gathered up a group of allies from icky slimes, scary lizards, Terror Bots, and a poor group of brainwashed dummies to attack them. They begged the Earthlings to aid them in fighting back the meanies with a gift of faster than light travel and special 'friendship weapons' that were powered with love, in actuality they were powered by unstable dark matter crushed into a heart-shaped stone. The earthlings ate up the story however and a small band even joined the 'Friendship Five', as the humans named my envoys, on an adventure to convince the other species of Wild Space to fight back the meanies.\n\nAnd that leads us back to today. I watch as Winky, Pinky, Gibby, Jibby and Grandpa FriendBear spin the same tale to the people of earth on live television. Horrifying them with pictures of living Slimebals. Hurting their ears with the 'battlecrys' of the Reptilians. Showing footage of the Terrorbots 'destroying' the industry of a planet and people being 'overtaken' by the Steve Collective. Finally, they showed a picture of the gnarled GrumbleBears and the public ate it up. I thought about warning everyone but just a glance of Twitter shows they already have overwhelming support, there's even fanart of the 'Friendship Five.' The Five are currently picking out a group of youngsters to join them on their journey to find more allies for Earth. I just sit back down at my computer and look at the screen and wonder. Do I really want to take the next turn? " ]	2
	[WP] Selling your soul to the devil isn’t as simple as it seems. You are an overworked attorney representing individuals looking to get out of their deals.	[ "Third client today... Christmas is always bad, but this year seems to be particularly busy.\n\n\"So, Mr. Griswold, explain to me why I should help you mediate your contract termination? I'm familiar with the terms that the Fir Corporation gives to their new, underlings, shall we say. Otherwise, you wouldn't be seeing me.\"\n\n\"I need to make this Christmas the best it has ever been! Help me break out of my contract with my current company and I'll be forever loyal to the Lucius E. Fir Corporation! The CEO is such a terrible person that I'm willing to sell my soul to Satan himself if it means I can leave there and get the best tree for Christmas and...\"\n\n\"Mr. Griswold, let me stop you there for just a moment. I know about the sign on bonuses, but I need to check something. What is the name of the CEO of your company?\"\n\n\"It's a Peal, or a Beel or something... I just call him Chrome-Dome when he isn't looking so....\"\n\n\"Oh? Would it be a Mr. Beal Z. Bub by chance?\"\n\n\"That, sounds right?\"\n\n\"Ah, in that case, it makes this conversation simple.\" An Org chart is pulled out from a folder sitting off to the side. \"You technically already work for Lucius. See, this is how The Corporation works. Starting here at the top, if you follow this path you'll eventually get to Mr. Bub. If you would like to renig on your current contract, you would be barred from seeking compensation. If you would like the signing bonus, you would not be allowed to sign another contract with any of the subsidiaries you see here for 666 days from the date you last set foot in one of their facilities.\"\n\nMr. Griswold's face goes white. \"S-s-so, where would I be able to go if I decided to do that?\"\n\n\"Oh, I hear central Australia is a good place at the moment. You said you'd be willing to sell your soul to Satan himself, so spending some time in hell might not be a bad stepping stone.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You’re Schrodinger’s cat, and you’re VERY confused right now.	[ "At first, it doesn't feel like anything. It's the absence of breath, of touch. The absence of feeling his body alive and moving. The absence of emotions. There is no sound except the voice in his head. It narrates his thought process, hazily. It sounds like a recording being slowed down and stretched, echoing through a tunnel and coming to rest in ears that are smothered by a blanket. So faint, so slow. \n\nThen the voice speeds up. It clears. The words grow faster, gradually, before finally reaching a moderate speed. As the sound grows, so do emotions. Emptiness turns into a slight confusion, which turns into fear, then panic.\n\n\"It's dark. I can't feel anything. Oh, where am I? Where am I? I can't feel my heartbeat. I can't feel my blood. I've never realized how much I need to feel my blood. Oh please, where is it? Where is it? Where is it?\"\n\nThe voice picks up speed, and so do the emotions. Panic becomes bewilderment, which becomes screaming in his own head. It grows faster, and faster, until it hits it's breaking point.\n\nAnd then it feels like everything.\n\nIt's so much breathing that there are no breaks to exhale, only inhaling with no rest. It's every sensation he has ever felt before being pressed into his skin at the same time. It's so much blood, and muscle, and meat that it feels like his body is overflowing, a mess of flesh spilling out endlessly into the expanse. It's every emotion in every possible combination all crushing his heart under their weight. \n\nIt's the voice in his head, so fast it becomes one continuous, shrill noise.\n\nEverything and nothing can't exist at the same time. Everything swallows nothing, and turns it into something. Nothing swallows everything, and turns it into nothing. One consumes the other, and the victor is only determined by the context in which the meal is taking place.\n\nBut context can't help him now.\n\nIt cycles, endlessly. \n\nNothing. Everything. None of it. All of it. Never. Right now. No. Yes.\n\nDead. Alive.\n\nHe takes solace in the momentary transitions. The few seconds where the area is grey, and both beasts sit with their forks and knives poised politely over their plates, waiting for the moment to dig in to the other. In those moments between, he can think. \n\nThe voice in his head reaches a volume that is understandable, and he spends those few precious seconds thinking, begging, \"Please, someone open the fucking box.\"", "A box, what the hell is happening now those stupid philosophers better not be up to their stupid talks again\n\nAND THEN SUDDENLY YOU'RE DEAD AND ALIVE THERE IS DARKNESS AND LIGHT AND ALL YOU CAN THINK OF IS WHAT YOU ARE, YOU ARE DEAD AND ALIVE IN A BOX UNTIL IT IS OPENED INFINITE AMOUNTS OF WORLDS, POSSIBILITIES, COLOURS OBJECTS CONCEPTS INCONCEIVABLE TO MANKIND FOR WHAT LIES IN THE BOX THAT YOU ARE IN IS UN EXPLAINED AND CANNOT BE EXPLAINED AND ALL THAT EVER WAS IN THE BOX STARTS TO DISAPPEAR and Schrodinger, your bastard of an owner opens the box, and theres a live cat walks out, stupid philosophers." ]	2
	[WP] You are a cult leader with thousands of followers. You don't actually believe in the Dark Gods you claim to be the prophet of. You just like the money and power. One day you find out those Dark Gods actually exists, and they've been taking your prayers and offerings very seriously.	[ "Holding my arms above the stone altar I intoned the final blessing of the sermon. \"Hail Lilith the Black Rose, Goddess of Hell whose darkness and lust have brought forth the Legions of Hell. Accept this gift of blood sacrifice so that Satan's offspring may rule over the Dark World throughout eternity. Omen!\" The cowled figures before me repeated my words and made the sign of the Infernal One before turning expectantly towards the sacrificial altar.\n\nSister Hantu raised the jagged blade I had purchased at the Baltimore Comic Con and plunged it into the bleating kid's throat. The baby goat had been tied down over the stone platform so that he was lying on his side. I closed my eyes as the blade tore through his throat spraying blood across the closest cult members. \n\nThose who had been \"blessed\" with the gift of blood cheered like the psychopathic morons they were. I turned towards my sanctity as they gave each other high fives. \n\nThe ritual sacrifice of an innocent animal was the most disgusting part of our weekly rituals. Sadly the Cult of Lilith had certain expectations. We were supposed to be Satanic and nothing said evil like a ritualistic blood sacrifice. \n\nThe Silicone Valley billionaires, the movie stars, rock stars, and trust fund entitled freeloaders who formed the first two rows of the congregation expected nothing less. In exchange for a bit of blood shedding and a vicarious thrill they donated generously to The Dark Temple. As the High Priest of the Cult of Lilith, I lived in a luxurious mansion in Beverly Hills. Those members of the congregation who could not afford to contribute at the level of the mega rich found other ways to serve. Some provided security. Others provided domestic services. One of them did my taxes. \n\nSister Hantu, whose real name was Sally, was a particularly special find. Who would have known that this attractive young blond woman had a thing for killing animals? Not only did she enjoy the slaughter but the blood letting really turned her on, so much so that she enjoyed getting naked to receive the repeated blessings of her High Priest. \n\nIt was a good life and if a few animals had to be sacrificed to keep the idiots happy, what difference did it make if they were slaughtered for a ritual sacrifice as opposed to being killed at a meat processing plant? \n\nIt was with some relief that I closed the door of the Sanctity behind me. As I pulled off my purple robe that had been garishly decorated with gold and silver thread in Satanic symbols, a sultry voice interrupted me.\n\n\"Nice sermon.\" A lamp clicked on. Seated in a semi-reclined position on a sofa was a dark haired beauty whose perky breasts were outlined by a tight fitting black dress whose slit hem showed off a pair of sensuous legs.\n\nI unzipped my trousers. \"Are you here for a blessing, my child?\"\n\nThe woman frowned. \"What are you doing?\"\n\nI fumbled for my belt. \"I'm going to give you my blessing. Would you like to receive it on the sofa or would you prefer to be bent over my desk?\"\n\nThe woman gestured and my zipper zipped itself back up, painfully catching my manhood in the process. \n\n\"What the Hell,\" I howled as I struggled to unzip the zipper. \n\n\"Exactly,\" purred the woman. She rose from the sofa and approached me as I continued struggling to relieve my aching privates. \n\nA crimson painted fingernail stroked my cheek. \"I am Lilith, the Black Rose, Goddess of the Underworld.\"\n\nI groaned as the zipper finally came unstuck. \"You're nuts lady.\"\n\nAn unseen force slammed me against a bookcase causing dozens of Satanic volumes to tumble to the floor. The woman's eyes glowed red. \"YOU WILL RESPECT ME OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!\"\n\nI panicked and began babbling. \"Forgive me oh Mistress of the Dark, I did not realize it was you! Praise to the Infernal Regions for your coming. How may this one serve you?\"\n\nI fell upon the floor to grovel at Lilith's feet. \n\n\"The Day of Armageddon draws nigh and your cult will have the honor of leading the way by launching a series of terrorist strikes across this country!\"\n\nI quailed. \"Armageddon? You mean the End of All Times? The War between Good and Evil?\"\n\nA shapely foot wearing a stiletto heel painfully gouged my neck. \"WORM! Do you know of any other Armageddon? Assemble your following. Use your worldly treasures to arm them. Starting thirty days hence, your cult will strike these targets!\" \n\nA parchment appeared before me written in the blood of innocents. My heart sank as I began reading a list of targets. Included were the names of at least 5 Catholic Cathedrals in the United States, FEMA headquarters, the CDC in Atlanta, and CNN studios in New York City, Los Angeles, and Washington, D.C. There were also several power plants, water treatment facilities, and for some reason a Burger King in Dallas. \n\n\"Your will be done ...\" I paused. The Sanctity was empty. \n\nThe door opened as Sister Hantu entered the room and stripped naked. The poor woman was confused as I scrambled out the other door leading to my mansion above the basement. Waving away a uniformed chauffeur, I climbed into my limo and raced away. \n\nWithin 30 minutes, I found myself in the confessional booth of the Church of the Good Shepherd. \"What is it my child?\" asked the priest behind the wooden screen. \n\nI took a deep breath. \"Bless me Father for I have sinned ...\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "As the sun dipped low behind the pines, evening followed closely behind Johnathan Lamant as he ascended the steps of the watch tower - As he always did at this time. The old fire watch tower had served as a powerful conduit for his message, a tangible architecture to support his vision. The symbolism of the tower was the anchor of his following. It was the sanctuary that connected the mortals to the immortals - The light to the darkness. \n\nWell, that was his pitch anyway. It had won him the devout following of nearly 800 people here in the isolated communities of the Rockies.\n\nJohn unbuttoned the wrist of his sleeve as he climbed to reveal the brand of 'The Watch' - A crude drawing of a fire tower inked into the inner forearm. It was a sign of devotion and trust. It meant you had proven to be a valuable asset to the group, a level of achievement reserved for his 'lieutenants.' \n\nAs John reached the top, he circled the overlook until he faced his congregation. For seven years he had cultivated the crop of peoples in the surrounding communities into believing that he had the insight to lead them into the safety of the infinite. That he was chosen by The Dark Gods as The Shephard for their lost sheep.\n\nIt had brought Johnathan Lamant the power and wealth to do as he pleased when he pleased. That was different now. As John looked out over his sheep, he felt the brand on his forearm burn into him as fresh as the day it was imprinted.\n\nWhether the Dark Gods existed before or after he began is congregation, they are here now, and they are looking to their Shephard to bring them their sheep.\n\n", " Between the goats blood on the walls, the red curtains, and every flickering light it’s amazing that nobody has realized there’s a cult here.\n\nI mean, if your average person was walking down a average hallway in Building 38 on 5th and Mason, saw red light from under the door crack, heard ominous chanting, and smelled goats blood, they’d call the police right?\n\nTo be fair, I’ve got some of the police in my cult. Blue uniforms splattered with red--it makes a pretty sight. Maybe that’s why no one’s bothered to stop us.\n\nWe meet every Thursday in what was formerly a pencil manufacturing warehouse, and host prayers to our dark lord Bael, and me, his first servant. \n\nTonight's meeting went about as all meetings go-- we chanted a bit, drank a little bit of blood, I bit into a heart severed from the flesh of a ram (actually a large cake pop, painted red), cut our symbol into the forehead, accepted offerings (preferably in the form of cash, though we do take checks, and as of two weeks ago, debit and credit cards), chanted some more, and called it day.\n\nThen I, first servant of Bael, master of the eternal darkness, changed out of my robe, kicked my feet up with a whisky from my private stock, and counted the money.\n\n8124 dollars and 11 cents. Not bad, but less than I prefer for a standard meeting. The “festival of the black moon” is coming up soon, I have to remember to do some extra vitrol about how there will be eternal rewards for those that reward Bael today, and eternal punishment for those that cheat him out of his offerings.\n\nJust then, the doorbell rings. If it’s the cops (after all the time?) I have cameras to let me know, incendiaries to cover up the evidence, and a escape tunnel. Always be prepared.\n\nBut it’s not the cops--it’s a well dressed, handsome man with dark sunglasses. He looks directly at the hidden camera, and waves jovially. Did he miss the meeting? He’s not in the robes. More likely he’s someone who’s heard something, and his curiosity sent him here. I should ignore him--but that suit looks expensive. Well, if he wants a show, I’ll give him a show.\n\nSo I put my robe back on, hide the whisky, prep the dry ice, speakers, and mood lights, and…\n\nAs the man enters the room, smoke billows from the floor accompanied by pulsing red light. There is a strange howling that seems to come from everywhere at once, then a hooded figure appears out of nowhere, and stands silent, solitary, and unmoving even as the lights, screams, and smoke fades away.\n\nNot bad eh? It took me years to perfect, but if there’s one part of this game I’m good at, it’s the dramatic entrances.\n\nThe man doesn’t seem impressed though. He has a wry smile on his face, and eyes that somehow seem to penetrate me through those sunglasses.\n\n“Not bad” he says. And then “I’m Bael”.\n\nThis is somewhat surprising, but I recover quickly, and in vibrating mystic tones.\n\n“So you think you know the truth? But you are wrong. Bael is in all of us, his power is in every nightmare, every scream and every drop of blood. Bael is the all-destroyer, and he’s in all of us.”\n\n“Cool. And true, more or less, but I’m actually the actual guy. Here, I’ll show you.”\n\nThen, there is a rumbling, and a thousand tiny fissures appear in the room, from which spurts thick hot red blood.\n\nNow I’m not sure if this is some sort of cult-leader turf war, or what, but if there was ever a time for hidden incendiaries and a quick escape, it’s now. A button up the sleeve, and I turn and run as with a WOOSH, fire and blood mix together.\n\nExcept I’m not running, I’m...rotating?\n\nAnd as I turn to face Bael, he removes his sunglasses, revealing hollow sockets, and fire within.\n\n“I’m very disappointed in you.” He says.\n\nThen pain tears through me, and I’m screaming. Louder, shriller than an of our sacrifices. The scream goes on and on until I sink into the ground and the world goes black.\n\nWhen the cult returns next Thursday, they find their hall of worship burnt to cinders, and their leader and mass of robes and viscera in the center of the room, surrounded by burnt dollar bills.\n\nA few of the members, those who had joined to feel empowered, to feel special, for the risque feeling of it all, dart away, drawing their hoods over their faces, but more stay. They stay and chant their dark chants, and pay homage in blood to their leader who made the ultimate sacrifice for his faith, who ascended to join the dark lord Bael in the black sun.\n\n(r/StannisTheAmish)", "Most school janitors were unassuming, hardworking, diligent folk. Usually they were reaching their retirement with adult-aged children already. However, Mr Pereira was not one of these humble men. He thought life had dealt him a bad hand from a young age, with his involvement in gang activities barely slipping under the radar of the law enforcement. Slipping just like that first kid, Britney, who slipped on a puddle of puke that Pereira hadn't cleaned while on his smoke break. It was at that moment when Pereira reasoned he had a chance of making more money than the peanuts he made per month.\n\nBritney wasn't badly hurt, but her friends had caught the incident on film and would have posted it on the Internet. She begged Pereira to help. One stolen phone later, the job was done. No one would ever suspect a janitor who came into a room alone, right? But there needed to be an explanation, something so outlandish that no one except the desperate would believe.\n\nAnd so, straight from the pages of tomes forgotten, Pereira told Britney of Dark Ones who were forgotten by mankind, forever entombed within the nearby graveyard, and whose powers were only granted to a select few. At first, of course, Britney didn't believe it. But it was a thought planted into the young girl's head, and when that gaggle of girls complained of an insanely difficult test coming up, Pereira knew where the teacher's answer sheets and wallet were. Distracting the teacher on a wild goose chase, he soaked the answer sheets in a little blood and placed them conveniently in the girls' desks. Their belief was sealed, and further enforced through more outlandish favours. From cheating to stealing to murder, everything could be done by the whims of the Dark Ones. Or so Pereira claimed.\n\nEven the teachers were in on it at some point; one teacher's desire to get an annoying colleague out of the way of promotion was fulfilled by shovel. Shovel to the head, shovel in the ground. And that was to say nothing of the money donated, embezzled, stolen from the devotees of this schoolwide cult. To Pereira, nothing that they asked for couldn't be settled by the skills he had learned on the streets, and the best part was that he left no trace to those who didn't look. Hell, they should have made him the Principal already.\n\nThe cult had been running for five years now. Five times four hundred students per year was two thousand students under his dark grip. And though Pereira thought today would be nothing out of the ordinary, he knew not that he had awakened the true Dark Ones.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe superintendent of the district was on his monthly tour. He did not notice the occasional suspicious red footprint on the floor. He did not notice the illicit packs of cigarettes lying around. Pereira was high-strung throughout the day, waiting for Superintendent Charles to pick up something, for he had an extra knife in his belt just for him. It was the same knife used in his cult rituals, those which he had used in front of the freshmen to ritually sacrifice their frustrating fellows. To him, however, it was naught but a standard steel blade with weird inscriptions.\n\nIt had been one long day of inspections, but finally the sun was setting and the students had nearly completely left from the school. Charles was one step out of the school, before he whirled around and slowly walked to the janitor's closet. Pereira, watching from the corner, was increasingly confused and worried before he felt himself chokeslammed into the lockers, Charles' eyes glowing blue fire.\n\n\"Amateur. You think you can summon the Dark Ones with simple offerings of money and blood? OUR money and blood? What use would eldritch forces have for those?\" Charles laughed in his face, dragging Pereira's limp body to the \"ritual table\" and tying it in place.\n\n\"And your ritual table is one of those classroom desks which have been vandalised on for 5 years already. Look, the pentagrams carved everywhere! So amateur.\" Charles chuckled. As the door opened, a group of four students crept in, but froze in terror as they saw the silhouette of their prophet was much larger than it should have been.\n\n\"Welcome, students.\" A girl screamed as she realised the voice of the most important educator in the district. \"No, do not worry, children, for I am here to destroy the Heretic!\"\n\n\"This man has extorted you without giving you anything... truly special! He has given you nothing but parlor tricks and assassin services. Nothing that a true Dark Prophet can offer! The Dark Ones have sent me on this day to purge the impostor.\" Pereira squirmed in terror, trying to untie the ropes to no avail.\n\n\"The Dark Ones do exist. They have offered services to this school longer than it has existed. So know this, students; they do not like competition. But they do enjoy an offering, and fear is the best seasoning for their meal.\"\n\nCharles drew the blade from Pereira's belt. \"Ooh, a relic. I'm not even going to ask how you cheated, lied, stole your way to this most sacred blade. But one thing is for sure, it is going into your heart.\"\n\nPereira screamed, the way traitors and cowards do, as Charles channeled the power of the Dark Ones into his mortal shell, and plunged the blade into the False Prophet's chest." ]	4

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