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[WP] While dueling the king's champion, he suffered a fatal heart-attack and died, now everyone thinks you're a sorcerer capable of killing people with your mind.
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"Sir Stannis was a strong man,good and honourable but he wasn’t a smart man and at 98 years, just too fucking old, he desired to challenge me to a duel. They had barely got his plate strapped to him when the old man slumped down beside a tree, I hadn’t wanted to see the old man dead but it seems that satin finally wanted to have a little chat.\n\nThis left in a precarious position, our great king, who let’s be fair is a bigger idiot then he is fat which is quite a feat, has resided that I’m some sort of great sorcerer. If your in any doubt I am not a great sorcerer or even a mediocre one, I’m just a dung shoveler, that slept with the wrong mans wife. \n\nI was tasked by our glorious and yet moronic king to kill the duke of flash with my powerful spells and tremendous mental ability, I am not a wizard but I can hit people rather hard with a shovel so my plan was simple. I was going to challenge this duke to a duel them kick his bollocks in and smash his face with the dung shovel, a Machiavellian piece of planning had made this idea watertight, I just needed an obscene amount of luck.\n\nThe duel was at the same barren deserted field that I had fought sir stannis heartbreak at, nothing had changed apart from the area which the noble knight relived himself at upon his fatal death. The duke of flash was a powerful man, a dashing young night with golden curls and arms like tree trunks, his sword and armour glinted in the early sun, while my shovel and tunic still had shit on them.\n\nThe Duke flashed like lightning towards me at the count of ten, he moved like a galloping stallion until he hit a patch of brown grass, slipped and bashed his head open upon a suspiciously placed rock. He relived himself and died in that exact same spot, so I began to just invite an enemy’s of the kings to that field at watched the bodies pile high covered in shit.\n\n",
"The crowd erupted into startled gasps and whispers. \n\nConfused with the lack of death and agony that was promised to me, I peeked over my shield and stared at my opponent. \n\nThe Grand Knight had stopped, his arms raised above his head, clutching his broadsword with his two mighty hands. His face wore a peculiar expression, as if he was suddenly confused on where he was and what was happening. I rose slowly from my crouched position and lowered my shield. \n\nThe Knight dropped the sword with a large *CLANG*, and immediately dropped to his knees. His hands clutching his chest, he sputtered a few unintelligible words as he starred deep into my soul with a pleading look. The light behind his eyes grew dim, and he crumpled dead into a heap of armor at my feet. \n\nSilence fell throughout the arena. A slight wind blew, swirling dirt into the air around my feet. The crowd began to whisper again, neighbor turning to neighbor, their faces looking down at me with shocked expressions.\n\nMy mind began to race. What the hell had happened? I looked to the King, sitting upon his throne in the middle of the stands. His mouth was agape, and his eyes took in the scene before him with such shock and disbelief they were protruding out of his skull. Beside him, the Queen had grown very pale. She looked down at me with a mixture of pure happiness and extreme worry. \n\nEvangeline. She was the King’s pride and joy. He had married her when she was only sixteen and he well into his fifties. She was the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, her long raven black hair falling down over her shoulders in ringlets. Her piercing green eyes sparkled as if alight with the fairy fire of legend, and her laugh could charm a bird right from its nest. \n\nAnd though she was wed to the King, her heart would always belong to me. \n\nIt was a pity, really, that we had been caught. It was rather fun sneaking around the castle at night just to steal a quick kiss. \n\nThe King would have executed me out right, if he wasn’t such a cruel old bastard. He wanted her to suffer and watch me die in a duel with one of the most powerful knights in the realm. He even taunted me before the match, decreeing in front of everyone that if I were to survive and be the victor he would let me run away with his Queen. \n\nAnd here we were. No one would have expected this. \n\nThe King’s mouth clamped shut as his shock subsided. He looked at me, his hazel eyes hard as steel. He rose, and pointed down to me, his gnarled finger shaking with rage. \n\n“What manner of witchcraft have you placed on my Grand Knight?”\n\nI opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came. Witchcraft? Is this what they were thinking had happened?\n\nI suddenly had an idea. \n\nA slow smile crept across my lips, and my eyes bore into the King’s. \n\n“Yes, oh wonderful and just *sire,*” I said, curtseying and bobbing like a young school girl, sweetness dripping from my voice.\n\n“’Twas witchcraft that turned your great lumbering knight into a sorry sack of bones. And, if you’re not careful, the same fate may fall upon you should you not keep your word.”\n\nGasps filled the crowd as women clutched the crosses at their neck and men put hands on their sword hilts. Evangeline's eyes narrowed slightly as she tilted her head in curiosity.\n\nThe King looked down at me, his faced furrowed. \n\n“My word?” the King said, his eyes narrowing. \n\n“Yes. You promised me your Queen if I were to remain living after this duel did you not?”\n\n“Yes…” \n\n“And I am indeed standing and breathing am I not?”\n\n“Unfortunately.”\n\n“Then you must uphold your end of the bargain. If not, I would be very sorry for the good people of this town should the wrath of me and my Master reign down upon them.”\n\nThe crowd’s worried murmurs rouse considerably louder, with many looking at the King with wary eyes as they waited to see what he would do. \n\nSensing that he might have a riot in his hands, the King frowned. He had little to no protection with him, and it was not an unknown fact that he was not heavily favored amongst his subjects. He did not have to give them much cause for them to over throw him. \n\nAfter what seemed like hours of thinking, the King motioned to his nearest guards. \n\n“Take the whore down to the Warlock.” He sneered, never breaking eye contact with me. \n\nThe guards nodded, and gently guided Evangeline down the steps by the elbows. Stopping within feet of me, I could see the fear that was flashing behind the guards eyes. \n\nThey were afraid to come near me, afraid that they would suffer the same fate that the Grand Knight had. I smiled back at them, and they both flinched. \n\nEvangeline walked the final steps toward me alone, her face breaking out into a broad smile. She could barely contain her happiness as she turned to face the King in the stands. \n\nI wrapped an arm around her waist and smiled broadly at the King. \n\n“Wise choice your Highness. Your town will live to see another day.”\n\nThe amount of hatred that was pouring forth from his eyes would have no doubt killed me if it was able. Turning away from the King, I steered Evangeline towards the exit of the arena, walking quickly. Once we were out of view of the crowd, she gripped my hand tightly. \n\n“What on earth happened back there?” she asked in an excited whisper.\n\n“You know as much as I do, my love.”\n\nShe was silent for a few moments. \n\n“I’m happy you’re alive,” she said quietly as we hurried down the path way towards the courtyard.\n\n“I wouldn’t have been able to bear it if I had to watch you suffer.”\n\n“Likewise my darling,” I said, squeezing her hand and flashing her a quick smile.\n\nShe frowned a little.\n\n“Did you really have to threaten the townsfolk? My mother was up there.”\n\n“Your mother is a clever woman; she knows that witchcraft is a load of crock.”\n\n“Either way, she won’t take kindly to you threatening her.”\n\n“Well at least I’ll be alive to hear her sweet nagging voice.”\n\nShe chuckled under her breath. \n\n“What will we do now?”\n\n“Grab a horse perhaps? Go find another town far away from here? Rebuild our lives?”\n\nShe squeezed my hand even tighter, a shy smile forming on her lips.\n\nWe rode far and hard before the darkness descended over the land. As she slept beside me, I couldn’t help but watch the flames of our fire dance in the darkness. The King would come for us. There was no doubt about that. And our life in the upcoming months would be filled with hardship and toil. \n\nBut sitting there in the flickering light, her head on my lap, I could not help but to filled with such happiness and joy.\n\nI was alive. And I was with her. And that’s all that mattered in the world. "
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[WP] There's a new drug with the street name Cosmos. Named so because when you take it, you supposedly traverse the universe and can speak across dimensions to alternate beings. The drug should start working any second.
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"I stared at the vegetation outside, the leaves of trees and bushes shining from the sunlight and being shaken by the breeze. I guess I expected some insight to hit me in the face about nature any minute now.\n\n I remembered how when I smoked weed I could never tell when the transition started, where the limit between 'sober' and 'high' became evident. Did tan happen only to me or to everyone else? I remembered how Eric used to say 'Oh it's kicking in' when we smoked together and put his arm over his eyes, so I guess he could tell. Was I going to get a hint on what death was? It would be comforting to know how Eric was doing. I miss him too much. Is death part of the universe at all?\n\n I felt stupid thinking about that, and I looked at the sky above the trees so I could concentrate. The trees looked silvery now, but I don't know when that happened. In the sky I could see the sun, but also everything else that was in that direction. There was no filter. I could also see there was a wall behind all of it, but it wasn't a boundary. I could see all the interactions, the quarks exchanging gluons, the electrons and positrons exchanging photons and other bosons. \n\nSuddenly I felt the urge to ask a question out loud. I felt someone was listening, but not sure who. \"How does it all come together?\". I felt the question was stupid. When questions are stupid no one answers. And I heard no answer. Only some sort vibration inside my ear lobes, a very soft vibration. I saw the sky looking back at me and showing me lines sinking around the sun, smaller ones further away, and lines sinking towards the ground. Everything had those lines. I guessed those were the gravitons. There were huge waves as well, travelling past anything without tumbling any planet over. They were really dark, but filled everything and felt apocalyptic. I tried to look at everything at once but my eyes were too small. \n\nI knew the effect didn't last very long, so I asked a second question. Why am I me? No one responded because I didn't ask it out loud. I wanted to know but I was scared to know. I got up and walked to the bathroom and stood next to the door, wondering if I should face the mirror. For some reason I had the idea I wouldn't survive this trip, so I took a few steps and looked at myself in the eyes. Then I looked at the rest of myself. All I could see were the results of a very improbable event, of the many attempts to make it not happen, but happened. I understood there was nothing to understand, so I sat on the toilet and waited till the waves and lines and everything else disappeared for good. And I remembered that I forgot to ask about Eric.",
"My friends told me to sit down while I wait, apparently people have a tendency to fall over when it hits. Cosmos seems a lot like DMT but I’ve been assured that it’s “a totally different experience” and “nearly impossible to describe unless you’ve tried it”. Which isn’t a very unique description of a new drug, but we got enough for 5 people for $15 so I wasn’t complaining. \n\nJames, the most adventurous of us, tried it yesterday. I wasn’t there for it, but he said it was a good time and I trusted him. And while he maddeningly wouldn’t tell us what he saw on his trip, he assured us that it was worth it.\n\nI sit for what seems like hours, but as my eyes dart around I notice everyone moving as if in slow motion. I’m not scared, this is the first onset before my sight is supposed to go dark. After that the true journey begins.\n\nThe edges of my mouth curl up in anticipation, and the edges of my vision start to darken. I try to say to my friends ‘See you on the other side’, but I only get out the first word before suddenly everything goes black. I feel a huge surge of motion as if launched out of my apartment and into the stratosphere, even though logically I know I never left the couch. There’s quick flashes of light on the backs of my eyelids in greys, blues, browns, whites, but nothing concrete enough to make sense of. \n\nThe surging motion comes to an abrupt halt before resuming at what feels like a walking pace. I open my eyes, but everything is still dark. Blurred images start coming into focus and my other senses kick back in.\n\nThe first thing I notice is that it’s cold, so very cold. Its spring back home but it feels like the dead of winter wherever I am now. The comfy couch I was on before is no longer soft and welcoming, and the sensation of movement is even stronger. \n\nThe second thing I notice is that while my sight isn’t back up to snuff yet, my sense of smell sure is, and not a single pleasant or even neutral odor made its way into my nose. I could smell old sweat, animals, and some metallic one that I couldn’t identify.\n\nThe third thing I notice is the sound of snow crunching under wheels and the soft and consistent pattern of an animal walking. I lift my head and I hear with a dreaded familiarity:\n\n“Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that\nthief over there.”",
"The rythm of my fingers banging on the table was intensifying. Five minutes have passed and nothing happened. Maybe there was a catch to it and I didn't know what it was. I started faking a meditation like I saw monks did in movies but siting in the lotus position did nothing for me. \n\n\" This is bullshit ! \" I say in a loud voice. I live alone so there is nobody that can hear me. Actually it wouldn't be too pleasant if someone were to walk on me all drugged up on the floor, drools on my chin. Although it could have been a good idea to share the experience with someone. Oh, someone... I miss having someone in my life...\n\n​\n\nI start walking through my room in circles waiting for it to happen without even realizing fifteen minutes have passed and still nothing ! What a waste of money and expectations. Wait ! That's it! High expectations ruin the experience. I need to lay off, relax. I lay in my bed counting the dots on the ceiling. \n\n​\n\nAnother fifteen minutes pass and still nothing, this is bullshit. Wait, did I say that out loud ? Meh, doesn't really matter. It's as if I am so focused on this thing working I don't even know if I'm thinking for myself or out loud. \n\nWhat should I do next ? I'm indecisive. Should I just blow this away and go out , grab something to eat ? Or... scratch that... I'll stay in today, I'm too lazy. Maybe I'll just watch a movie... although that book i started was quite interesting.\n\nYou know what, scratch all of this, I don't want my post to be lame. Wait... what is happening ? Are you writing this as I am doing and saying these things ?...\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​",
"The Man's fists were clenched hard, sweat seeping through the cracks in his knuckles as his pupils grew with unstoppable momentum, the dark circles creeping out from their earthbound vessels, spilling across his skin and into his mouth, permeating his senses with the deepest darkness.\n\nThen, a spark. A glimmer of light in the tenebrous void, rushing towards him with an astonishing speed, again covering his mortal flesh with its essence, photons dancing across the mottled skin like flies on rotting food; without aim or reason, but with unbridled excitement.\n\nThe Man found himself lay on the cobbles of some unknown town, rain lashing against his face as vicious whips, with a roaring thunder crushing his eardrums like the voice of gods. Dragging himself from the cobbles, The Man gazed down the street, unending darkness invading his senses, darkness that not a streetlight nor a lantern could hope to illuminate, an inky cloak draped across the streets of this lonely hamlet. The Man felt himself locked in place, shackles of paralysis holding his feet to the ground as the thunder cleared, replaced by a deep rumbling from the veil of darkness.\n\nSomething was coming.\n\n(All I can bother writing at the moment, the creative juices aren't really flowing that much tonight)"
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[WP] You thought it was nonsense, a joke. But then the contractor presented the reward and the proof to back it up. So your PMC took the contract. So this was it. The opportunity of a life time. Billions of dollars as the reward. Everyone knew the job: Bring down the Church of Scientology.
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"2.2 billion. The price was displayed on the computer screen, and I had no other choice. What does one say after being offered 2.2 billion dollars, tax-free? All I knew was The Church of Scientology had enemies unseen. In a corporate headquarters of the Church, a desk sat in a lush office, with a pad of paper set out to allow the reincarnation of L. Ron Hubbard to write his next novel. It was my job to see to it that it never happened.\n\nSo the plan was maniacally simple. We would give the Church what it wanted: the reincarnation of Hubbard, in the form of a young boy by the name of Phillip Darwin. We had the idea to infiltrate the Church from within the corporation itself. An inside job of epic proportions.\n\nWe trained Phillip with all of the beliefs, philosophies and knowledge involved in Scientology, and had a full psychological brief and behavior file on Hubbard, with a little help from excommunicated members of the Church. We groomed him to be a functioning Thetan. A Thetan is the word for a human’s spirit. Hubbard believed that when we were Thetans, we co-created this consensus reality, then became trapped in this cycle of reincarnation. Sounds like a mish-mash of Buddhism and Gnosticism, but that’s what you get when a science fiction writer plays Jesus.\n\nSo I trained Phillip to talk, act and behave like Hubbard. We gave him visualization exercises, had him repeat Hubbard’s affirmations, the works. On the day of our meeting at the corporate headquarters in California, I went over the details of our plan once more with Phillip.\n\n“What is the main principle of life?” I said.\n\n“Survival,” Phillip said.\n\n“And What are you?”\n\n“Clear.”\n\n“And what makes you clear?” I asked.\n\n“My perceptions of an optimal magnitude, and my sense perceptions are completely accurate.”\n\n*Spoken like a true Manchurian candidate.*\n\n“OK, go inside, and good luck,” I said. “Remember, you’re doing the right thing.”\n\nI felt a twinge of guilt, and those words left a bitter taste in my mouth. Two hours later, Phillip rejoined me, and told me all about his interview.\n\n“So they bought it,” I said.\n\n“Hook line and sinker. Can I have my money yet?”\n\n“Soon. We need to talk about the next steps. You’re in the loop now, but we’ve got to ramp up our effort. We’ll be in touch next week.”\n\nI spent the next week solidifying the scheme. He would be anointed as the reincarnation of Ron Hubbard, and be accepted as the chosen one. Then we would rip him out from under them, like pulling a rug below their feet.\n\nThe next week we set our plan into action. Phillip ingratiated himself with the whole corporate board of the religion, and many champagne glasses were clinked over the course of the next month. I continued to correspond with Phillip, and was briefed on the happenings within the corporation. He shared hidden details, secrets that would crush the church to its very foundation.\n\nI accumulated this trove of secrets, and kept meticulous notes. After three months, I had enough dirt to rip the Church apart, and called back my Manchurian candidate.\n\n“OK, your money is in here.” I held up a briefcase for him to view. “Two million dollars, unmarked.”\n\nHe looked down then up, and stared at me with uncomfortable eyes.\n\n“All you have to do now is call the press conference, and give your speech,” I said.\n\nPhillip nodded, and we left to eat some lunch at his favorite restaurant. Five days later, it was the day of the press conference. Everybody who was anybody was present, and no news outlet failed to attend.\n\nThe auditorium was packed, with a blue fabric backdrop and blinding halogen lighting above, illuminating the main podium. When the time arrived, Phillip accepted the microphone, and started the speech we’d rehearsed during the previous week.\n\n“...that’s why, from this day forward, I renounce any affiliation with The Church of Scientology,” Phillip said.\n\nThe crowd shook, and cried. Some people fainted. A couple reporters chuckled softly.\n\nAnd that was the end of the Church. Without it’s leader, people lost faith in the institution, and that crack in the facade collapsed the whole structure from within the foundation itself.\n\nPhillip certainly gained more than a few enemies that day, but he’s in the witness protection program, and has more than enough money to live off of, if he invests it wisely.\n\nAs for me, I’ve retired from the biz. There aren’t any other churches to take out, and nothing else has quite the challenge of demolishing an entire religious cult. So now I just have to figure out how to spend 2 billion bucks.\n\nMaybe I’ll start a religion."
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Don't be afraid to write something weird, be afraid you'll write something generic. Physical traits =/=intelligence or any other personality traits, other than that go wild!
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[WP] You can transfer any physical trait from one willing person to another, be it height, looks or even illnesses. Now you want to push this power to its limits.
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"Passed down through the ages, the ability now yours had been passed to you from your father, as had his father and so on. And today was the big day of your lifetime. Sometimes you get to do more than one of these, but one is almost always certain. \n\nThere was always someone willing to take the trade. Always. And you had found the new taker. \n\nThe tall, blonde, caramel skinned, athletically built man was standing ready to give up all his traits for the one, the one that your father passed on from someone else to the man now having it, and his before him and so on. You turn to the young man for the final confirmation needed to do the transfer. \n\n\"Alright Ron, are you willing to give up your height, hair, skin, muscle build and youth for the worlds largest penis?\". \n\n\"Yes\".\n"
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[WP] A master sword smith once made a blade so perfect that it gained sentience, and when it’s not on adventures with heroes who pay exorbitant amounts to rent it, it spends its days “helping” its creator around the forge.
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"“Tyeren! Where is my scabbard?”\n\n“... I’m using it. Why?”\n\n“*Why?* You know this is my scheduled time for naps! Now give it back!”\n\nI was not having it today. What was Tyeren thinking, taking my bed? I was hoping to sleep today, after that last quest. Sketchy-looking wizard hiring me for a month, only to plant me into a rock so a kid pull me out and declare him “king”. Wizards don’t know jack on how to handle a sword, I tell you!\n\nSliding into the forge, it doesn’t take me long to find Tyeren, or T as I call him. Always beside his smelter, he is. I swear he’d be immune to flames with how often he’s making weapons. Ever since he made me he’s always been there.\n\n“Ark! What is this?” No.. Was he using my scabbard as a mold? How dare him? Was I not good enough for his business? I would have cut him into pieces if he hadn’t made me, I swear!\n\nTurning around, T has the edge to look at me with surprise. “What, is something wrong?” Those words fumble through his soot-covered beard. \n\n“You know what’s wrong, T!” I hum in fury, visibly shaking, “You know that’s my scabbard! No weapon goes in that scabbard but me! So what’s the deal, huh! Trying to make a better sentient sword than me? Someone bought me off? How much, huh?”\n\n“Whoa, Cal! Calm down!” T waves his hands at me, as if trying to calm me down. It’s then that I notice the piles of broken swords beside him, all cracked up while one is left forgotten in the forge. “This isn’t anything like that!”\n\nMy sides could be sweating poison for all I care. “So what *is* the deal, then?” I point my hilt my tip towards my scabbard, balancing myself on my hilt. “This isn’t the pile I tried to make with you before I left. What gives?”\n\nI can feel his sigh across my blade. Lucky for me I can’t smell, because I don’t remember the last time T washed that mouth of his. That gem he had placed on me gave me sight and hearing, grand as it was.\n\n“You see, i’ve been wondering about you.” T fumbles, tapping the blunt of my blade with his big hands. “Don’t you feel... lonely?”\n\n“What do you mean, lonely? I’ve got you around here. Are you telling me you’re seeing a girl without telling me? At least tell me she’s into weapons unlike that barmaid of last time...”\n\nI can see his face go as red as the flames in the forge. “No! Nothing like that.” He laughs, before pointing back at me. “You’ve never met another speaking swords during your adventures, have you?”\n\nHuh. He was right. Out of all the quests i’ve been taken into over the past three years, i’ve only met that sentient axe, and god was that a pain in itself. Bloodthirsty and dull-mannered, that fella. “No. Why?”\n\n“Well, wouldn’t you.. you know.. have someone else you could relate to?” T turns to the side, contemplating the broken swords. “Wouldn’t you want someone just like you, so you wouldn’t be the only talking sword?”\n\nNow that’s something I wasn’t expecting that brute to ask. Sure, I was one of a kind! People around the realms wanted me around, why would I need another sword just like me? It’s not like I needed someone, right?\n\nI could feel a cold pang grow in my hilt at the thought. Talking to people all the time does get kinda boring, come to think of it. It’s hard to relate to their issues and lifestyle. Even talking with T, master forge as some call him, can be hard. Holding onto bars, gathering materials, loose joints, that’s all something I can’t relate to.\n\n“Alright, sure. Maybe having someone like me would be nice. You’re telling me you’re trying to do it?” I hop over, making sure not to accidentally skewer T’s head while I walk near him. \n\nSteel, steel, some silver here and there. Trash magical sword materials, I tell ya. “First things first, you need so good gear to make someone like me again. Dragon bones, Mermaid fur, all tha-“ \n\n“Yeah? What about that?” God, T. I turn around to face him, even if he see’s that I have no face.\n\n“You want me to go on some quests to go looking for materials. Don’t you.” I can feel myself going blunt as I ask him that. No way he’d be able to get those materials again after making me. He said it himself that they were just so rare to find at a buying price.\n\n“Whatever, i’ll do it.” I shuffle, pushing myself into my bed before getting back up to face him. “Just gimme a week rest before you start accepting any more buyers. A sword needs it’s beauty sleep.”\n\nGod, what did I get myself into. "
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[WP] The sounds of childrens' terror or laughter have become obsolete. Now, to produce energy, the workers of "Monsters Inc." must harvest something entirely different altogether. They need nostalgia.
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"The monsters sat slumped in their seats in the boardroom. They lay across the long table, take out containers pushed in the middle and falling to the floor. At the head of the table was the head of Monsters Inc, Mr. Sully. He too was slumped in his seat, his eyes half open. Meanwhile, Mike Wazowski was busy taking drops into his large, blood shot eye. \n\n“Listen everyone,” he groaned, “we’re almost done with 90s. After this we go into the 2000s and then-“\n\n“I can’t! I can’t do it,” a monster with long purple hair and five eyes stood up. “It’s hard enough to learn our own history, we have to learn every bit of the humans?” \n\n“Jerry, sit down. You just be lucky we’re not representing the older countries. They have to go back even further.” \n\n“Hey, so were the bad haircuts in the 80s or the 90s,” another monster asked.\n\n“They all have bad hair cuts,” Mike said, “come on guys. This is the last orientation group. I don’t wanna be here either. I’m the one who had to do the presentations.” \n\nSully began snoring heavily. All eyes snapped to him. Mike rolled his eye and with out missing a beat, gave a quick slap across Sully’s cheek. Sully was up on his feet. \n\n“Hey how about that Super Bowl Win? Heck of a game. Those Yankees can really dribble,” he stammered off. \n\n“Sully I don’t have enough time to explain everything wrong with what you said. Everyone, please turn to page 1.007. ‘The Fall of the Boy Band.’” \n\n“Oh wow, really? I really liked the Backstreet Boys,” a monster with shaggy hair said. \n\n“Yes Todd,” Mike snapped his fingers, “that energy and passion right there. Find what you like, attach to it, use it to keep the people talking and fill up these sweet, sweet Nostalgia Canister.” \n\n“Should we just consider alternate energy?” \n\n“Jerry, if you bring that up again you’ll be out of a job. Now when we last left N’Sync their fearless leader had left them, because he had better things to go and music to produce.” \n\n“And he can act!” \n\n“Skipping ahead,” Mike said, “don’t skip ahead.” \n\nSully had gone back to sleep but he didn’t snore. Not until much, much later in the meeting. "
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[WP] You've decided to go back in time to stop the Great War. You're going to kill Franz Ferdinand, and prevent him from starting it.
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"\"Bob, we didn't spend five years refining time travel not to use it,\" I said, allowing the vacuum tubes to warm up as I checked the continuity stabilizing algorithms, \"the vectors all check out, the CSB confirms it. Franz Ferdinand goes, and the event chain falls apart.\"\n\nBob shook his head sadly as he slowly slumped to the floor, the handcuffs attaching him to the desk gently clinking. \"I can't believe someone who is this smart is also this stupid. Those projections are just that: projections. Guesses. The computers can be wrong, by a factor of. . . .shit, I don't know. Several powers.\"\n\nThe status board indicator lights were gently clicking over from red to green while the power meters continued to climb. I always found more than a bit of irony that mind-bending time travel technology depended on the use of vacuum tubes; despite all our research, we never found another way to beat the electromagnetic pulse effect that comes from time travel. So while I didn’t have to pack plutonium, be struck by lightning or get it up to 88 mph, I did have to wait while my time machine warmed up.\n\n\"For God's sake, think of Marcia! The projections didn't see that coming! The CSB was wrong!\" cried Bob.\n\nDr. Marcia Halpford was the computer scientist who had designed the CSB - the Continuity Stabilizing Benchmark. A bland name for the very powerful series of computers that could project the likelihood of possible timeline change effects. It eliminated many of the dangers we anticipated, or at least, we thought it did. Except that our first minus 4 test, where Bob and I went forward and back 4 years, had unintended consequences when it came to Dr. Halpford.\n\nThe CSB had shown complete stability in the minus 4 test. We closed the switches and traveled 4 years back to the empty warehouse of that era, recorded some radio and television signals for confirmation, and cycled back to milliseconds after we'd left. *We didn't even leave the control room of the machine.*\n\nDr. Halpford didn't recognize her own code when we returned; in fact, she was stunned we had made the trip at all considering the projection computation problems that remained unsolved. When we had left she was the tests biggest proponent. When we returned, she acted like Bob and I were merely supposed to be running diagnostics, not performing a live test. In our timeline, she had solved the projection problems. In the \"new\" now, her own solutions were unrecognizable to her, and seemed like answers from heaven. She had been severely spooked and intrigued, and thought we should suspend further tests. Bob concurred, while I most strenuously did not.\n\nThe result of the minus 4 was a bit disconcerting, but hardly a reason to not take the next step, to do the sorts of things that had driven the project in the first place. It was all so obvious to me. Why couldn't Bob see it? Why did he have to try and stop me? What had happened to Dr. Halpford was so small in comparison to the possibilities that lay before us, that lay before me. I could save millions of lives, prevent the destruction of entire nations, change history for the better!\n\n“What happens if it doesn’t work?” sobbed Bob as he watched me load the pistol. “What if it all goes sideways? What’s your plan then? Go further back? Eliminate Theobald von Bethmann-Hollweg? Have lunch with Leopold Berchtold and slip a little something into his soup? Once you unplug from the CSB, you’ll be flying blind! You could come back to us not knowing who you are! You could come back to absolutely nothing!”\n\nThe last indicator light switched to green, and the high voltage hum of the tubes seemed to me to be the cry of a chorus of angels. I confirmed that the place and time program coordinates had been locked in, disconnected the CSB umbilical connector, and closed up the panels. I gave the gun and ammo in my pocket a reassuring pat, and turned back to Bob one last time. I got to within an arm’s length and crouched down so that we were eye-to-eye.\n\n“What happens if I don’t come back at all Bob? What if I skip the CSB entirely and just go forward, as far as I can, and see for myself? Better yet, what if I just put a bullet in Franz and destroy the machine? You’ll get to read about me as a minor footnote in history, some unknown crackpot who showed up out of nowhere and murdered a minor member of the Hapsburg line,” I said, giving Bob a grim smile before I straightened up and strode to the time projector.\n\n“You’re mad. Mad! You’ll destroy everything with this recklessness,” screamed Bob, yanking so hard on the cuffs that he began to bleed from his wrist, “it wasn’t supposed to be used like this! We agreed! You agreed!”\n\nIt was true, I had agreed. But that was in the past, and I had to smile pleasantly as I closed the hatch and engaged the time circuits. The past was something I now had in the palm of my hand, and it stretched before me so gloriously I felt it might swallow me whole.",
"I was called to the Associate Director's office. As I walked to the office, people looked at me and said *tsk-tsk* and *tut-tut*. I got the sinking feeling something was wrong and it was my fault.\n\nI knocked on the door. \"Come in,\" said the AD.\n\nThe AD's office was painted in a soulless brown color. Boxes holding broken shards of spacetime weighed down sagging shelves. His desk was stacked with scrolls and tablets. \"Sit down,\" said the AD.\n\nI pulled up a metal folding chair. It was cold sitting.\n\n\"So, how was the mission?\" asked the the AD in a interested voice.\n\n\"Er, a success?\" \n\n\"Killed Franz Ferdinand, did you? Stopped The Great War?\" The AD game me a brittle smile.\n\n\"Wet work always makes me squeamish. I, um, used the big killer robot, the one from 2035, the one where the AIs go nuts and kill everyone whose last name starts with the letter 'S'.\"\n\nThe AD blinked his eyes. \"You didn't see any issue using a murderous robot with a programming glitch?\"\n\n\"Umm,\" I said. \"It did say it accomplished the objective, killed Franz Ferdinand and all.\"\n\nThe AD leaned forward. His chair creaked. \"Did you know there was a musical group in the early 21st called Franz Ferdinand? Had a hit, 'Take Me Out.'\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" I cringed.\n\n\"Oh, yes. That killbot certainly *took them out*.\"\n\nI looked down at my shoes.\n\n\"So, go down to Reorientation and fix your mess.\"\n\nI nodded and wondered how I was going to stop the killbot.\n\nThe AD said, \"Don't let us down.\"\n\nLeaving the AD's office I [remembered...](https://youtu.be/Ijk4j-r7qPA)\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] You're a vampire who joined the police. All was well, until you joined SWAT, who are required to enter houses uninvited regularly. However, nobody told you this before your first assignment.
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"His eyes widened looking at the hinges of the average looking door. They were old. Very old. He could hear the distant chatter of the rest of the team as they began getting into formation. He hadn’t exactly trained for this part of the job, but moving from the force to SWAT, he didn’t think there’d be much of a difference. This was different. They were moving too fast. Everything was happening at a speed he just wasn’t accustomed to. The adrenaline was there but it was off. But that wasn’t his problem. He had a bigger problem than being uncomfortable at his new job. \n\nHis eyes shifted as a hand made contact with the tactical armor that was covering his shoulder. He didn’t flinch but it did make him hesitant to answer the question. \n\n“Are you alright? First time?” \n\nHe nodded and turned back to face the door. The door. He shook his head. He knew exactly what was about to go down. The way they were stationed made it seem they weren’t exactly about to ask for an invitation. An invitation he desperately needed to apparently do this job. If he would’ve known he would have never applied. He shook his head again and tightened the grip on his weapon. He had no idea what he was going to do, he thought about asking to be put into the back of the formation but it was too late. The last of the men had arrived and that was it. \n\nSo he listened. He could hear the rapid heartbeat move closer to the other side of the door. All their heartbeats were going a million beats a minute but he forced himself to focus on the one. He was motioned to move forward but he stopped. The heartbeat, it began to slow down. With a confused lookhe faced the others, confused looks also on their faces. Why did he stop, they all probably thought. He realizes that the man had also stopped screaming and so they began waiting; but waiting for what? \n\nBANG\n\n“O’Leary!”\n\nThe door swung open and before he could lift his weapon another bang rang across his ears. And then he smelt blood. His ears rang for a few more seconds before they all began to move in. “The suspect is down.” He hears multiple times. He steps through the doorway with a sigh of relief. Everyone laughs for a quick second as to say they felt the same way before splitting up to check the rest of the house. But he knew that that wasn’t exactly the case with the sound that came out of his mouth. If this man, this lunatic, was just a bit more sane, he would have been exposed immediately. He’d been lucky if he had a job at all after this. This was his last shot at a normal life. But thankfully the guy was nuts. After all, when the only person who can invite you in is in fact very much dead, it makes things a lot more easier on his vampire soul. But he’s definitely going to be looking into a transfer. \n\n(A quick write from me in between classes. So sorry for any mistakes. I loved the prompt and couldn’t resist.) "
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[WP] To the public, you are known as the Healer. But the people close to you call you Agony, an immortal being who has the ability to transfer diseases from other people into themselves. If only your immortality would also stop you from feeling the pain.
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" If she thought long and hard, she could remember the name she once had. That at least she hadn’t lost. How long had it been now? Seven hundred, no, she corrected herself, nine hundred and fifty odd years. So much time blending together, entire years have fallen away from her memory. She could remember a name, but a childhood, a time before healing, these were things lost to her.\n\nShe did remember the first time she “healed” someone. When this time period was in the mass of years behind her, she didn’t know, only that it was a long, long time ago. It had been a person she cared for, a woman, a friend. She had grown very ill and would have soon die from her ailment. She remembered a desperate feeling, anxiety she couldn’t shake off. Then, embracing her friend, her skin contacted her dying friend’s. She wanted to draw out the sickness inside her friend, she needed too. It was at that point immeasurable pain pierced her skull, her body felt like she was being stabbed all over, again and again. Her lungs began to burn, her chest began to ache, and her bowels relived themselves all at once. It was traumatic on every level. She didn’t remember what happened after and she was sure she didn’t want to, but she did remember the immense happiness she felt when her friend was able to recover from the illness.\n\n“Healer! Healer!” A cry rang through the village as a young messenger boy searched for her. She sighed mopping her feverish brow with a damp cloth and righted her full red skirts. \n\n“Agony?” Sister’s voice rang clearly into the room before the girl pulled back the red curtain and stepping up to her bed. Agony she may be, but she was well compensated for her trials and pain. Most in the village slept on mats on the floor of the huts, but years ago a proper and beautiful bed was fashioned for her, made from the sturdy Albecca tree. Its beautiful golden wood was shined and oiled regularly. A tender smile played on her lips, her bed was one of her few luxuries on this hot and humid jungle planet.\n\nShe frowned, another mystery. She did not know how she knew this entire world and a jungle planet, with three bright green oceans. It was just something she knew. There was so much she forgot until pieces of it was remembered from time to time. She did know that no one else on this planet seemed to know the things she knew. Many of the villagers in this tribe had never seem the ocean, much less knew it was a bright and vibrant green. \n\nShe shook her head, the full red skirts about her waist rustling. None of it mattered. She simply wafted from one dying person to another, on immense pain to another. That was her life, it has been her life for hundreds of years now. Nothing else mattered. “I’m coming sister.”\n\nTime seemed to blur again for Agony. She was in the village square, down on her knees in the mud, her arms tangled around a small tiny figure of a girl who had been thrust into her arms by a sobbing mother. The girl had blood dripping from her eyes, nose and ears. The moment she touched the Healer though the bleeding stopped. Agony now gasped in pain as it was exploding from her skull, her eyes blurred red with blood, she tasted copper and her ears rang. Part of her mind was detached enough to also feel frustrated. She hated this virus the most. It was messy, her blood boiled from it and her organs always seemed to melt just a tiny bit before they began a slow healing. How she knew this she wasn’t sure, but she knew the pain.\n\nThe tiny girl gasped, her heart beat picking up, her skin pallor returning to normal. The mother’s sobs grew louder as she removed the Healers arms from her child. Agony barely felt the woman through the haze of pain the virus gave her. The village all backed to a respectful distance from her while she lay sprayed in the mud, the rain beginning to fall harder. They started up the chant, she supposed they thought this helped her get over the pain faster, but it didn’t. all she cared about was that they left her alone for this part. She could hear Sister calling out for everyone to get further back away from her, letting her family now take the task of caring for her.\n\nThis was not the same Sister as before when her mind last grew thoughtful, she knew that, that Sister had grown old and died. Agony could remember a time when she tried to remember each great, great, great niece or nephew or cousin; but over time it grew to exhausting. They became Sister, or Brother, or Cousin always something she could remember. Somehow, they were able to keep track of who was who, but she couldn’t. \n\nThe pain began to dull, she wasn’t sure how many hours later it was or if it was days later. It was still raining though, and the sky was cloudy and a soft light grey above her. The clouds captured her attention and helped distract her from the pain. There seemed to be a bright spot in the grey. Rain dripped into her lashes, but she was too distracted. The bright spot turned into a line slowly drawing closer. She twisted her head, following the line, matting her hair further into the mud. Suddenly the air erupted in a sonic boom, the backlash of a deceleration of a ship. How did she know that?\n\nIn the background she heard the villagers screaming in terror. They didn’t understand what the bright metallic object falling through the clouds was. Somehow, she did though. She watched as the medium class pod ship, she knew that little ship, no matter how big it looked, was actually attached to a larger ship that was too big for an atmospheric planetary entry. Her head turned in the mud, following the ship as it made to land in the grain field next the village. The landing treads unlocked from the bottom of the ship and as they touched the muddy ground they sank into the wet and damp dirt. Jungle trees surrounding the field bent outward from around the ship like a halo. She crossed her eyes a moment, her foggy and pain filled brain trying hard to catch up with the events happening around her. \n\n(Continued)"
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[WP] Due to a misunderstanding at Corporate, the Angel of Deaf has been assigned Grim Reaper duties
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"Nobody ever bothered to learn sign language. We've been around for much longer than the humans, how haven't we adopted what only took them a few hundred years? Only a few of my family, friends and some fellow worker angels had bothered to learn it for me, and I wouldn't be seeing them for a while with this new job and all. And on that note, why doesn't god just cure us angels that were born this way? It's just ridiculous.\n\nI was a little bit nervous about starting this new job, it was pretty unheard of for angels to switch departments unless they had a good reason, and even then god was a bit of a dick about it. I enjoyed looking over those who shared my ailment, nudging them slightly left when they didn't hear the car getting close behind them, letting their phones vibrate that much harder when they needed to wake up for an important meeting. On my creation day and everything, why did it Anyway, that was a thing of the past, onto new adventures.\n\nGliding towards what struck me as a dark building, ready for the difficulty of having to write down that I was deaf on paper and allowing people to learn my nuances from the start. Gliding through the door, the unicorns at the front desk smiled and started to speak, I could hear nothing obviously. I pointed to my ear and smiled on the outside, while being annoyed inside that this would be a regular occurrence for a while.\n\nI walked up to them and wrote down on my trusty notepad \"I'm Frey, the Angel of Deaf, here for a new assignment\". For a second there was a look of blank shock from the unicorn, and then her mind caught up with her and she looked up and smiled and starting typing on her ridiculously large keyboard. She turned the screen with her hoof towards me and it read \"Thanks Frey. You can find your new office and uniform on Level 2\". I smiled back at her as she pointed towards the flight path, I could feel her laughing at me as I walked away... what was happening?\n\nFlying up the shaft of the flight path I swooped into the second level and there stood a single door 'Angel of Death'. This must be a mistake? Walking into the room I saw a box with a dark cloak inside, with a letter, addressed to 'Frey' and another door. No. No, this can't be. I've heard of people having to spend a few millennia meeting those who had to pass over into Heaven, or mainly hell if I'm being honest, humans are idiots. I pick up the cloak with shaking hands and shrink into it head first. How would this even work? Isn't Death meant to comfort those who are taking the passage into their unknown? I guess I wouldn't be able to hear their cries...\n\nI walk into the next door, expecting to find what I could only assume would be my scythe and list of poor mortals and BOOM. Lights flashing, balloons everywhere, my family, friends and work buddies were standing there with signs saying 'Happy 4 Trillinth Creation Day!', \"We're kidding!\".\n\nThey hadn't forgotten! This had been a very, very bad joke."
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[WP] Grabbing a towel to clean your hands, you find there is blood on it. How odd, you haven't wiped your hands on it yet.
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"\"hey, did you already use this rag?\" I ask, not looking up from the work bench. \n\n\"Ya, sorry. I had to answer a text and didn't want to get blood on my phone.\" Sophia answered with a grunt. She's struggling with the neck. Removing the head is a hard part. Normally I'd saw through with my sawzall but I'd neglected to bring it all the way out to our remote cabin. \n\n\"It's fine. Answering texts. Jeez. You kids and your tech dependence.\" I snorted. I could hear the eye roll without even turning around. I was more of a smartphone junkie than she'd ever be. Her mom had made me switch from my flip phone when Sophia was born. Ever since I have that stupid thing glued to my face half the day. But not this weekend. Not my baby's first kill. \"I'm really proud of you. I want you to know that Sophia. Its not easy doing this. But it's important, and it's a tradition that I'm proud to pass on to you.\" I had to smile at the way she lit up. \n\n\"God you big pussy you'd think we were rebuilding a car or something. After all the practice at the range, and on small animals, this monster target was like hitting the broad side of a barn.\" She teased. I chuckled and shook my head. \n\n\"Killing ain't easy. And it shouldn't be. But this guy died so you could live. He died clean. Single shot to the heart just like I taught you. He didn't suffer, or feel much pain. You took him down clean, and now, we clean it up\" I smiled, grabbing the boning knife and setting to work on the shoulder. It would take a while to break down well, but it was important to take care in this portion. To waste anything of such an important kill was sinful. I heard the door to the garage open up and looked up at my wife with a smile. \n\n\"Wow. He's a big boy isn't he?\" She asked with a beaming grin. She was nearly as proud as me. Sophia was practically glowing. \n\n\"Yup. A freezer full for sure\" I chuckle, pulling out the Ziploc bags and butchers paper. \n\n\"My first elk. Can't believe I got one this big. The guys at school are gonna be pissed!\" Sophia laughed, gesturing to the creature's massive antlers. Butchering is bloody work. But it's all worthwhile in the end. "
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[WP] In most of the galaxy adrenaline is a dangerous and highly illegal drug. Humans are an oddity in that we produce it naturally in our bodies.
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"The ship's engines growled beneath me as I slumped against an unused supply crate. *Just where the hell am I?* I remembered some sort of announcement over the radio. When I looked outside it was if someone had pulled a thick blanket over the stars. Shadows crept through the sky like a silent dream and before I knew it the ground rushed up to meet me. I tried to remember what happened afterwards but a flash of pain shot through my head and my knees began to buckle. Whoever, or *whatever* took me sure as hell wanted to stay hidden. In any case, the only thing that mattered now was finding Emily. I prayed to God that she was still safe... *God damn it. She's just a kid.*\n\nI rounded the corner and kept low. The air was stale and I could barely breathe for all the fumes rising from the nearby vents. The mechanical grumble below pounded in my ears as I continued, but thankfully anything coming my way wouldn't be able to hear my footsteps.\n\n\"There's still one human not accounted for.\"\n\nI crouched against the wall and kept quiet. The voice came from the next corner but I couldn't quite make out the figure. From a distance it may have even looked human, though the creature was much taller than anyone I'd seen before.\n\n\"The transmat beam wasn't calibrated,\" spoke another creature who was standing out of sight, \"we've already sent out a full search crew. If he's here, we'll find him.\"\n\nAfter a short pause the two creatures parted ways. I hung back for a moment then continued along the corridor. A fresh breeze wiped the stale smells from my face as I entered the next room—it was nearly pitch-dark now and with each step it felt as if I was moving deeper into the bowels of the ship. I clutched my chest as I struggled to see beyond the seemingly solid black walls surrounding me.\n\n\"*At this rate I'll never find*— \"\n\nI took another step forward and the ship lit up as if in response. That's when I saw it. Countless tanks lined the chamber each connected to a vast array of medical instruments. The distant roar of the engines had now been replaced with the incessant beeping of monitors. *God... It can't be.* \n\nI wiped the grime from one of the tanks and jerked back in horror. There was no mistaking it. She might have been hooked up to a number of tubes and electronic devices, but it was definitely Emily. \n\n*Jesus Christ...*\n\nI reflexively clasped my throat and examined the rest of the room. At first I thought they were stasis pods of some sort, but the reality didn't set in until I uncovered one of the nearby computers. Most of text was written in hieroglyphs, but I could faintly make out the words \"*Adrenaline levels stable\".* That's when it hit me. These weren't stasis pods. No, this was a farm.",
"Galactica Encyclopedia\n\nGenus: (Homo)\n\nSpecies: (Sapien)\n\n1 result\n\n\"Yo Jib-Jab\" \"What?\" \"I read the other day on reddit that theres these species of 'sentient bald apes in the \\[redacted\\] solar system' that produce adrenaline naturally\" \"Cool\" a third male enters.\"Yo whats up (racial explicative)'s\" \"(Paul) just said that theres some species that produces adrenaline naturally\" \"Oh shit man, we should go over there its not far, maybe we could harvest the adrenaline somehow, or just laugh at them constantly tripping out\" \"Yeah okay\" \"Uh... sure I got nothing better to do\" The trio take a(n) (Uber) to the train station and get a train to the closest stop where they then pick up a for-rent-ship and take off. \"Yo (Paul) do you think that they might be aggressive because of the adrenaline?\" \"Their a completely undocumented species, they're believed to be entering the (Age of the Internet) based on activity signals, handguns should be fine.\" *These were the recordings from (Pauls) home, under (FBI) surveillance, and the rental car, along with sequences filled in, henceafter is deduced from the site of the incident.* The trio land \\~150 meters away from a home. They walk towards the home where midway through one is shot non-lethally in the (\\*shoulder), Then a barrage of shots from a predicted two attackers massacred the men. (Homo Sapiens) have been classified as Highly Aggressive and have been avoided from then on.\n\n***This has been translated into your native language and dialect ( American-English), \\* denotes rough translation of idioms, biological differences ect. report to Galactica Encyclopedia for a better answer.***\n\nMy fun homage to Douglas Adams \"A Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy\". Also is it just me or is half of writing prompts ,popular posts science fiction? Thanks-r/whynotfriendme",
"The translation came through clearly from my voder: 'Is that a real one, mum?'\n\nI glanced to the left. It was a juvenile Thraxtl, not a native. Its mother said something about 'strong and dangerous'. On Earth, gravity was heavier than most inhabited planets, so we had a reputation already.\n\n'Is he an addict, then?' The kid had no sense of tact at all. Some things are invariable between species.\n\nI turned my head towards the youngster. It was still in its wingless larval form, a burden to its mother even in Noth gravity. My air-mask must have looked a bit intimidating, because it writhed and looped itself around its mother. I quickly turned and walked away. I didn't want trouble.\n\nHumans are in a strange position in the Federation. We're the newbies, the latest discovered species, but we're also liquid water-based (minority), evolved on a rocky planet (not a minority) and communicate by sound (which is unusual). We also produce *dreechy*, as they call it here, which we know as adrenaline. It's the most addictive, borderline toxic substance known to carbon-based life (which is most of them), and fetches a ridiculous price on the black market. I've known women who sold a half-litre of their own blood and went on an interstellar cruise with the proceeds! For some reason there's a belief that females have more of the stuff. Those huge behemoths from Shchuchan, where the water is all liquid methane, can trip on frozen human blood for days on end!\n\n'Harmonious greetings!' The hail must have come from the mottled black, upright-starfish-like thing in front of me. 'I hope you are well?'\n\n'I am,' I replied cautiously. I didn't think these voders could convey meaning in tones, or at least not yet. Not these cheap ones.\n\n'Are you an egg-layer?'\n\n'No,' I replied. What was this about?\n\n'I think you are! Grab it!' And immediately I was grabbed from behind. I felt a thud in my breastplate, a kevlar waistcoat that was standard issue for all humans travelling to Noth cities. The thing was trying to stab a needle into my kidneys! I lashed out sideways and back with my right arm, connecting with something soft and clammy. I whipped around, grabbing a fistful of my assailant. There was a terrible noise, both on my voder and in my ears. The thing was screaming! Without even noticing, I had torn a chunk off the starfish that had tried to stab me! Black blood oozed and vapourised from the fragment.\n\n'RUN! The thing bellowed. 'It's gone mad, it'll kill us all!'\n\nThere was pandemonium. Every sentient being within earshot (along with any pets they had) took off as fast as their physiology allowed. It wasn't very fast, if I was bent on murder I could have caught and killed most of them.\n\nBut, I wasn't. I just stood there, bewildered, not knowing whether to stay or go. The police, heavily armed and armoured Nothese, were there in moments. I was arrested, questioned for hours, and released without charge at the end of the day.\n\nOf course, I missed the meeting. Simon had to smooth things over with the suppliers, and I didn't make it through my probationary period. So, that was the story of my brief first job off-world.",
"The sky turned black with alien crafts. They shifted like clouds in lazy formations, and the people of Earth responded by gawking from their windows. It had taken two weeks from the start of Liam Brent's business venture to start of an intergalactic incident. \n\nEvery news channel in the world had a live feed of the same hulking fleet. Scrolling text and news anchors speculated about the invader's purpose. Liam Brent was the common theme. \n\n*-It is believed that the vast number of ships is a show of force. Analysts are working on identifying the crafts, but early reports believe them to be of the Stargonic Police Force. This may be the incident we need for the government to tackle business' manoeuvring the slow lawmaking process.*\n\nPeople had *wanted* to believe that the invasion was about law and order. That Liam Brent's intergalactic adrenaline business had upset an all-powerful galactic body - and it had, but not a lawful one. \n\nThe cocktail of a highly illegal substance that until recently had been impossible to produce, and an Earth seller claiming to have an abundance, mixed to create a drink that comes with a guaranteed cough, and pause when drinking - *is this good for me?*\n\nA messenger craft detached from the main body and ignoring the Earth's feeble defences. It dived straight to Liam Brent's mountain home and compounded the initial speculation of a regulatory force. The craft had barely touched the ground when it returned to the horde, and Brent's security detail reported him abducted. \n\nThe absurdly wealthy intergalactic drug dealer had been picked from the planet like a scab, and even his family struggled to mourn the loss - having by default inherited his wealth. \n\nA fringe group labelled conspiracy theorists believed the show of force had been about more than justice. Hours after Brent's abduction, their crazy theories became a reality.\n\n An exert from Damien L's social media feed one hour after the alien force's arrival (14/12/29 10:32:22):\n\n*They have come to farm us. We are too naive as a species to trade with the big vast galaxy. Our production of adrenaline poses a threat to all existing traders, and to put it in terms everyone will understand. There will be a hostile take over.*\n\nDamien will go down in history, but how that history looks is vastly different. A secondary wave came, they split like capitol-city-seeking missiles. And so began the infrastructure. Structures the size of towns were erected in *hours*. And with Liam's guidance, the aliens constructed fear factories. Industrial buildings designed to evoke adrenaline in any living person they could capture. Many wondered if this was just an upscaled version of Liam Brent's prior business plan. \n\nThe fringe, those that saw this coming, have taken to the underground. Living in fear of the foreign force - who showed no signs of leaving. Reconnaissance missions were conducted every three months, and with each, they recognised less and less of their Earth. It resembled a farm.\n\n---\n\n/r/WrittenThought"
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[WP] They told me to go to Hell, so I did. And I made them fear me.
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"\"You are no ordinary human being. A warrior like no other. Your sword has fallen many a king. The gods themselves tremble in fear of your wrath. Undefeated in battle, the world lost a great warrior today.\"\n\n\"That is all behind me now. Now, I just want to spend an afterlife of peace and quiet.\"\n\n\"Alas, a man of your talents is always in great demand. You deserve an eternity of peace. And you will get it. However, god has a humble request for you.\"\n\n\"I bow before the almighty. He doesn't have to request. He just has to order.\"\n\n\"It is not that simple. He asks you give us some more time before you can finally know peace. He wants you to do something that no one has ever been able to accomplish. You deserve your peace, but god wants you to give us some more war.\"\n\n\"War?\"\n\n\"I know you have seen enough bloodshed to not ever want to go back to the battlefield. But you see heaven and hell have been at war. And the devil plays by no rules. Before you take your rightful place in heaven, we need you to go to hell. You can no. And no one would blame you. But the devil is coming for heaven with his demons. And you might be our only chance.\"\n\n\"But why me? Can the almighty not go and smite the devil?\"\n\n\"He could. But we still intend to keep our promises. At the time of creation, devil was given his part of the nine realms and we promised that no angel would step foot in hell. He promised the same but as we now know, we take our promises much seriously than he does.\"\n\n\"Then I must go to war again?\"\n\n\"No. No. There is no must. You are free to enter the gates of heaven. But we see you as the only one who can preserve the utopia that we have built.\"\n\n\"I understand. I will need my sword.\"\n\n\"And you will have anything you need. One more thing.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Before you fully commit, I must tell you. No human being has ever returned from the depths of hell. Satan won't let you leave that easy. So if you lose, you might be stuck there. And there will be nothing we can do.\"\n\n\"I don't lose.\"\n\n\"Confidence. That is good. It is a tricky place filled with lies and deceit. Good luck and Godspeed.\"\n\n*********************\n\nThe sword flashed again as fire and brimstone raged around them. Demon after demon disappeared into smoke before his grit and determination. The battle raged for years. His sword and armour served him well. One versus many. But he was a warrior unlike any other. They all fell. Till only one remained. Sitting on the throne surrounded by fire sat an old man.\n\n\"Welcome, warrior.\"\n\n\"I have come to claim your head.\"\n\n\"And you will get it too. Easily enough.\"\n\n\"Is this a trick?\"\n\n\"No tricks. Not from me.\"\n\n\"I expected much more of a fight.\"\n\n\"Unfortunately you won't get it. I draw my strengths from my fellow banished. Since you have destroyed them, I am weak. I will be dead soon regardless of what you do. At least this way, it will be quick.\"\n\n\"You don't deserve quick. For all your crimes against humanity and heaven, you deserve worse.\"\n\n\"My crimes? I see how it is. Pray tell me what my crimes are.\"\n\n\"You destroy and corrupt human souls. You constantly seek to lead humans down a dark path of sin. And evil. You fight to actively weaken god's light.\"\n\n\"Folk lore and lies. I do no such thing.\"\n\n\"They warned me about you. A liar and a deceiver of the highest order.\"\n\n\"I lead men down the path of enlightenment. I give them knowledge. Your god is the one who gives them free will and then makes rules to curb said free will. He made humans rebellious by nature and when they rebel, he punishes them. And he sits on his throne surrounded by his minions, unaffected, unconcerned. I take in all the people he deems are not good enough. My door is open to all.\"\n\n\"This is not true.\"\n\n\"Then tell me what part of it is wrong. How many people have I killed on earth. How many has he?\"\n\n\"Stop.\"\n\n\"I could've killed you the moment you entered my domain. But I once took a vow to help people. Not kill them. The world runs on balance. A balance between light and darkness. God wants to blind people with his light and control them. Control the way they live, their choices all of it. In darkness, all other senses heighten. He does not want an alternate view point. He has long desired to curb my influence. And eventually destroy me. And he has succeeded. But I wish he had been MAN enough to do it himself.\"\n\n\"I...This can't be true.\"\n\n\"I do not blame you warrior. People have been killing in god's name for millennia. And they will continue to do so. Even more so now that there is no opposing force. This isn't the first time he has sent someone to finish me. You're just the first one who has succeeded.\"\n\n\"I didn't...I...\"\n\n\"I built this place over a long time. It cannot survive without me. And my death is not too far now. Come forth warrior. Take my crown. You have earned it.\"\n\n\"I do not want your crown. I don't know what I want.\"\n\n\"You might not want it. But you do need it. Soon, this place will collapse and be reduced to nothing. You will need my crown to get away. To travel between realms. I just hope that god keeps his word and lets you in.\"\n\nWith that the demon king fell back, too weak to talk. The crown fell from his hands and rolled towards the warrior.\n\nHe raised his hand and a vision came to the warrior. One final communication.\n\n\"He cannot be let in. I hope you realize that.\"\n\n\"I do. He's too powerful. A threat.\"\n\n\"If he can kill the devil, he can possibly come after us too.\"\n\n*******************\n\nThey told him to go to hell. So he did. And he made everyone fear him. But now he realized that he had been tricked. And he wanted revenge. He would go to heaven now. And they would fear him too.\n"
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[WP] You are the first human ever to witness one of mankinds longest unsolved question. "What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?"
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"The flame of the candle waivered for a moment and I worried that it would go out. But it rejuvenated itself and our shadows continued to dance against the wall behind us.\n\nI showed my hand, pocket aces. Luci threw her cards down in disgust.\n \n“See? It’s more fun when you don’t cheat.”\n \nShe sighed; the disagreement was palpable. \n \n“Well if you don’t like it, you could always go back.”\n \nShe said nothing while she picked up the cards and reshuffled the deck. I looked out the window, though it was hard to qualify it as such. The small porthole off the starboard side revealed only a black canvas. \n \n“I am not sure if I will ever go back,” she said.\n \n“My company is that irresistible?”\n \nShe smirked and dealt a new hand from our deck of 52. Pocket aces again. My lucky day. \n \n“No, I just can’t stand it. I didn’t think I could ever hate something that used to give me such purpose, but here I am. The people just don’t care, and those that say they do are just sycophants. There just no reason to do it anymore.”\n \nThe flop was ace, king, queen, all hearts.\n \n“You could always come with me,” She perked up as if she just thought of it, even though we both knew it was her sole purpose for being here. “That would make all the difference. We could mutually agree to call off this little arrangement. It was a silly joke anyway. Don’t you think it has run its course?”\n \n“Sounds like torture to me.”\n \n“Well, of course there would be a little bit of that. What would be the point without a little torture?” she chortled.\n \n“I think I’ll pass.”\n\n\"I can offer you anything you want.\"\n\n\"You already did, remember? That is why we're here.\" She annoyingly threw down the turn.\n \nIt was the Ace of Spades. I now had almost an unbeatable hand. I turned back to the empty window to bluff a difficult decision. But after a moment, I lost focus and began trying to remember the last discernible thing I'd seen. When I had still had fuel I had visited so many planets. But eventually all the fuel had run out. \n\n“Then what if settle this once and for all,” she said. “This hand decides it.”\n \n“Doesn’t seem like there is much in it for me,” I said not turning towards her.\n \n“I’ll stop asking for good. I'll even leave you alone if you want,” she said.\n \nI did enjoy solitude. After the fuel had run out, I didn't have the options anymore to pick where I went. Instead, I used the ship's solar panels and glided from star to star, charging just enough to get the warp drives operational and then I'd shoot off to the next sun. A few times, I had misjudged the distance and didn't have enough to make it. It would take millenniums to finally get to my destination. That's when Luci to showed up for the first time since our agreement. I'd just woken up from a long meditation to just find her staring at me, a pack of cards in hand and an expectant look on her face, as if I had kept her waiting. \n\n“Why not,\" I said. \"Why not settle this once and for all.\"\n \nIt may have been the first time I’d ever seen her taken aback. We held each other’s gaze and as a knowing hand slowly picked up her cards, she asked: “What do you have?”\n \n“Aces.” I flipped over my cards. The candle flickered. Only a royal flush could beat me.\n \nShe looked down at her cards. I examined her face to see if there was any ounce of emotion that would reveal her hand, but I couldn't tell. In fact, I hadn't seen this exact expression since we watched the last star die. It was a little red dwarf that just never seemed to give up. But it finally puttered out, and once it had she had just left without a word. For a long time and I just sat by myself in the dark. \n\n“I’ve tricked a lot of people in my time,” She paused, and filled with her cards. “Everyone always gives in… No matter what their heart’s desire was, I was always able to get them to despise it, to truly loathe it. When you do it right, taking them to Hell is their salvation,” She said and then paused. \"I’ve given many people the ‘gift’ of immortality and everyone else has begged me to end their misery. But you… you have remained resolute. You’re the only one who really knew what they wanted.”\n \n“If I was going to sell my soul, I was going to make sure it was worth it.\"\n \nAfter the red dwarf had died, I had just glided alone across the expanse. With nothing to see, I spent my time thinking and waiting. After awhile, I had exhausted everything there was to contemplate except myself contemplating. I had found peace somewhere in the nothingness as force greater than myself pulled and pushed me along. And that is when she returned, with her customary pack of cards and the tiny candle.\n\n\"Are you going to show me your hand?” \n\nShe smiled. Not her usual smirk. It was something altogether different. With a nonchalant movement, she threw her cards over to me.\n \n“You cheated,” I said. \"Why?\"\n \nThere should have been only 4 aces in the deck, but Luci had pocket aces as well. Six were on the table. Two pairs of identical hands stared back up at me. The result was an impossible tie. \n \n“I didn’t want the game to end, I suppose,\" She said with a wink as she began to shuffle the cards. \"Plus, cheating is always more fun.”\n \n \n \n \n \n\n",
"\"GENTLEMEN! today we get to witness the answer to mankind's greatest question!\n\nThe test subjects have been split into two teams, the defenders and the attackers.\n\nOn the defenders side we have a group of twenty of the best defensive linemen the world has to offer, and we have pumped them with so many drugs that pharmacy's nation wide blame us for the on going shortage.\n\nIn the attacking team, we have a group of ten brides to be who have been told the defenders are keeping them from a custom made wedding cake by the nations top patisserie *at cost.*\n\nnow let us sit back and watch the results.\" \n*--audio log recording taken moments before the 2054 biological fusion reaction incident*"
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[WP]PROMPT: The world was just made aware of magical societies that had been living in secret for thousands of years. They viewed themselves as superior and came out of hiding to declare war on humanity. You are a soldier fighting in this war against an enemy you only recently found out existed.
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"The nurse gave me a strange, unfriendly look as she checked the reading on her instrument.\n\n\"Wait a moment,\" she said, printing out a slip of paper and handing it to me. \"You need to report to Room Eleven immediately. It's all the way down the hall and to the left.\"\n\nI went where she told me, confused. I had enlisted a few weeks after the official start of the war. As an American, I'd never dreamed my country would ever be invaded, not like in the old days. When I'd discovered that enemies actually lived among us, I'd decided I had to volunteer if I wanted to stay alive. But ever since signing up, I'd had nightmares. They said the Mage Nation had armies full of human nuclear weapons that could kill with a word. How could we possibly survive this one?\n\nToday I'd reported to my local facility for testing. The nurse had barely checked my vitals before sending me away. I hoped nothing was wrong with me.\n\nAn older woman looked up as I entered Room Eleven. I handed her my paper. \"The nurse told me to come here,\" she said.\n\nShe glanced at the paper. \"Rose Purzycki,\" she read.\n\n\"Yes, that's me.\"\n\n\"I'm Captain Seldon,\" she said brusquely. \"Tell me, did you know you had mage blood?\""
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[WP] You wake up feverish and dizzy, head pounding and stomach churning. A knot in your throat constricts as you slowly leave the hospital bed for the bathroom. No one wanted this, but it had to be done. You look into a mirror and see your sister's face. You begin to cry.
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"If you'd known what would happen, maybe you would have behaved differently. Done something else. You wouldn't have let it come to this. Or would you?\nDeep inside, you know. You know there was nothing you could do. You knew how this would turn out and you did it anyway.\nAnd now that it's done, you're on your own.\nNo one will know about this. No one would even believe it. You are, as of now, forever alone with the knowledge that you stole your sister's life. \nAs the tears stream down your sister's - no, your own - face, you turn away. Away from your past into your sister's future. "
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[WP] He's jogs everyday at the same time. Rain or shine, sleet or snow. Even in the worst conditions. In passing with a neighbor, you mention the runner, but they have no clue who you're talking about. No one does. You seem to be the only person that can see this man.
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"Outside my apartment window there is a well built man being mugged. I am running\n\nout of my apartment armed with a baseball bat, praying that I make it in time. I am \n\nnot a saint, and I am not particularly brave so why am I risking my life for some \n\nstranger? Well you see I have a habit. Every night at the same time I look out my \n\nwindow and check to see if *he* is jogging. The first time I noticed I was seated at my \n\ndesk pulling an allnighter. I saw him jogging and was surprised anyone would be \n\njogging that late at night. The next night I was pulling another allnighter. My beloved \n\nclient changed the parameters for the millionth time. I calmly reminded myself that \n\nwhile it would be satisfying, shoving a keyboard down someone's throat is felony \n\nassault.And then I saw him again. After that it became a habit. To be honest, it is \n\nmore of an obsession now. For the last 762 days without fail at 12:14 , Jogger, that is \n\nwhat I call him, passes my apartment building. I've asked my neighbors who is he? \n\nBut nobody knows. When I first saw him he was pretty overweight but even from 5 \n\nfloors up now he looks well built. So why am I flying down the stairs to his rescue? I \n\nfeel like I know him. Probably better than I know some of my own friends. He started \n\njogging to lose weight but he was too self conscious to jog during the day. So he \n\nstarts jogging at night. The first few days it could hardly even be called jogging. But \n\nhe perseveres. By day 30 he is starting to motor. Every day he gets more fluid and the \n\npounds start to melt off. I watch him brave the icy cold, snowstorms, hail, rain. I \n\nwatch him get drenched in near freezing weather. But the next day he is doing it all \n\nover again. Why am running to certain danger? I guess it's because he is my hero.\n\n​\n\nI reach the lobby and run out into the street. There are three guys armed with knives \n\nsurrounding him. He is jogging standing in place. I yell like a mad man and they \n\nscatter. \n\nHe looks at me, \"Who are you?\"\n\nI couldn't say \"I have been stalking/watching you for the last 762 days, what's your \n\nname?\" I would come across as a complete weirdo.\n\n\"My name's Joe. I am a big fan.\" I say instead.\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​"
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[WP] Your wealth fluctuates based on your sadness. The more depressed you are, the wealthier you become. One day you decide to withdraw and notice $0 in your account.
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"He stared blankly at the screen \"Insufficient funds\" it read out cheerfully. He took a deep sigh. It didn't him like a sack of bricks to the chest like it once would would have once. I mean it wasn't ideal, sure. He had another account, and he'd been saving up a bit from his slightly-above-minimum-wage job. 'The Holidays' would wipe him out, but he'd manage. The machine dutifully spat out his card, and with a little smile to himself he grabbed it.\n\n​\n\n\"It's fine\"\n\n​\n\nAnd he believed it. The world didn't seem any darker or subdued because of this. He didn't expect it to be like this though. I mean, all the flavors of life still existed. Bad, good, he didn't have to live through anything catastrophically terrible to compare the devastating effect of that on his state of mind. But everything just felt... alright.\n\n​\n\n\"Is this it?\"\n\n​\n\nOn the other hand though, this was a far cry from the frantic imaginings and longing for that state of mind. When everything was finally 'good'. Where he had his life together, on the course and path that he knew must be meant for him. He'd been living his life for so long in a stasis, on pause. Waiting for his real life to start. Self inflicting the anguish of wasting away what must be his best years in apathy, while comically doing just that in the never-ending process. The failure of his life so complete that he wasn't even failing spectacularly enough to actually be doing that with enough character to be an interesting story during drunken recounts to potential friends and hookups.\n\n​\n\nHad he been doing anything particularly different lately? Something profound and meaningful that spelled out the most obvious reason for his empty slush fund account?\n\n​\n\nLife was okay. Nothing had exactly changed in any significant way. He was still working a shitty job. He still wasn't sure his girlfriend was 'the one', and he was walking around with a head full of reasons she wasn't. He was still a sack of middling flaws. He still guiltily smoked and made yet another plan not to. He still cheated on his diet too often, and his daily 5k goal was resigned to similar success. Still falling asleep halfway through nightly plans to be productive and get to 'fixing his life'.\n\n​\n\nBut he felt confident about what he was doing, walking the steps that will turn out to be the next mistakes. They were choices he was making, as imperfect and flawed as they were. Could he be doing better? Like the Pope shits in the woods.\n\n​\n\nHe was going to miss it. A mysterious bank card that randomly gave him little bursts of happiness during the days he felt the most worthless and cursed. While at the same time proving to him that probably even money couldn't remedy what he was doing to him. Sure, it wasn't enough to make him rich, to make the bigger problems in his life to just disappear. But he wondered if that would've truly made that deep down worthlessness vanish too.\n\n​\n\nHe couldn't feel it right now.\n\n​\n\nHis painful knowledge of his various failings didn't disappear. Just the thought that they were some karmic conclusion on his value as a person. He was disappointed with having to let go of some long held on expectation for the perfect, but really didn't mind it so much. The reality of his broken but salvageable life felt so much more distinct than the faceless longings he held on to, and so much more exciting in person.",
"Today was the day. Id finally manged to get up the nerve. My suicide note was beautifully written. A work of literary genius railing against the injustices of today. Someone was bound to read it and society would become awash with revolution!\n\nI was wearing a really pretty outfit. Purple flats with sequins. Oh I could drool for hours looking at them in a shoe shop mirror! Oh My leggings had little cats on them. My short black skirt made the outfit look playful but classy. Oh and then I picked out my favorite blouse- A white frilly sweetheart blouse I rarely wore because I was too afraid of letting people see fanciful side.\n\nOh All my affairs were in order. I picked the perfect spot. The school ampitheater. Class started at Four PM so I would be dead for quite a while before anyone found me so they wouldnt have to see my ugly struggle before I died. I knew lots of theater students had great photography skills, so when they sent my picture into the local newspaper they were going to make me look sooo good.\n\nI was good friends with the janitor so I made him call in sick today! No early interventions for me. Oh today was going to be the best day of my life!\n\nI had set it up so that all my possessions would go to my best friend- Kim. Oh Kim was going to be so happy once she saw the changes in society my death was going to cause. her and I have been friends for what three years now? Uhh these years have been the happiest of my life.\n\nI spent an hour working on makeup and contouring the lines of my face. Made my nose look adequately small- cant have people thinking I have a big nose or anything after I die. That might ruin the news story! Made my jawline look stronger, foundationed all those blemishes away. Oh I looked like a supermodel out of one of those shampoo commercials! Eyeliner to make my eyes pop- I had to think about this one a bit. I know my eyes are going to be closed but... Well it looks *better* this way.\n\nAll I had to do was go to the store to buy the perfect rope. I had stalked the hardware store looking for the perfect rope to complent my beautiful long slender neck. Oh I settled for a dyed pink hemp rope 3/4 inch- Anything thinner was likely to leave nasty welts in my neck and I couldn't have that. Anything thicker was going to look *ropey* and take away from all the work I had done to make a very pretty *mis en morte*.\n\nI went to my local atm so I could buy the rope anonymously- wouldnt want some poor store clerk to get into trouble later when they found the receipt of course. Gotta pay in cash so they cant trace the transaction!\n\nI stared numbly at my account balance.\n\n*Well this ruins* ***EVERYTHING!***"
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[WP] You've taken a year-long job as the sole gamekeeper on a remote Scottish island. As the old man who brought you across casts off in his boat, he shouts one last word of advice. "If you hear a knock at the door, don't open it."
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"You lean back in an armchair—a creaky relic from the 70s with orange floral print—but the foot stool extends and you warm your feet by the fire as the wind whistles steadily outside. You take a sip of the lukewarm whiskey that you poured into the only cup you could find, a chipped coffee mug, and sigh. A whole year of peace and quiet. The suitcases lay around the house, half opened with clothes scattered across the floor, but who cares? It’s just you, and only you. After the year you’ve had, the thought floods you with happiness, a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. There are still bruises on your arms but those will heal. And no way will he ever find you here, hunkered away a hundred miles from nowhere in the moors of Scotland. Again you smile and lift the glass to yourself –a toast—to surviving. You pull out a mystery novel and the minutes turn into hours and you find yourself falling asleep in the chair.\n\nA dull repetitive clunking sound wakes you up. Groggily you raise your head, the whiskey making things a bit fuzzy. Was the wind batting something back and forth? You listen closely, silence, and then clunk, clunk, clunk. Unbidden your host’s final words come back to you… “don’t open the door.” But that’s not really a knock now is it, more of like a dull thud. Several times in a row, sure, but not the sound a hand makes rapping on a door. You know what that sounds like, the pounding and shouting as someone tries to force their way in. And the sound you hear now is not human. The fire is warm and your head foggy and you slide back into sleep, the thunks melding into a dream, where water keeps pinging in a pan, no matter how many times you empty it, ping, ping, ping, thunk, thunk, thunk, thud, thud, thud.\n\nThe next morning a ray of sunshine sneaks in through the drapes and plays across your eyelids. You stay there another ten minutes, letting the sunshine warm your body, before stretching and braving the cold floor that awaits your bare feet. You put on a kettle, and the tweets and whistles of small birds heard faintly through the walls fills you with that special feeling that the day is going to be new, different. The kettle whistles and you pour a strong, steaming mug of black tea, and only then, when the caffeine removes the last of the fog, do you remember … there was a noise. But here, in the brightness of morning, you open the door. \n\nThere, at your feet, are fish. Dozens of them, flashing silver in the morning light. Some long since dead, others still gasping for breath. Writhing fish. The strangeness of it unnerves you, but as an animal lover, you spring into action, scooping as many up in your arms as you can, running down barefoot to the lake, tossing them in. The water cold as it splashes up from the fish, spraying your arms. Your feet and ankles numb as the lake waves lap over them. Waves getting more and more violent. \n\nAnd then you notice it, twenty feet out, a break in the water, a giant wave, but a wave with …. fins? A long neck breaks through the top of the water and you see a head, with a gleam in its eye. It reaches its neck into the water and pulls up a fish, and tosses it at you. The fish smacks you straight in the forehead. You’re so frozen in surprise you don’t even react. But the creature makes a gurgle sound that could almost be a laugh and then dives back down, the rippled water returning to green smoothness. Wet and fishy and in shock you return to the house and slam the door behind you, slowing sinking into the armchair in a daze.\n\nFive minutes later, the slow smile returns to your face. It shares its fish! And if he ever does find you, here in Scotland, well, you have a hell of a protector. Screw what the old man said --the next time you hear a knock, you’re going to open that door."
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[WP] "Miss Universe matters more than it used to...the winner is crowned ruler of Earth..."
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"Looking back at what Miss Universe used to be, is somewhat laughable. All you had to do to win was to have bearable looks, to have a nice body, and maybe a little bit of knowledge. \n\nNow, you have to be superhuman. You have to be strong, you have to be BEAUTIFUL, and you have to be a genius. You are always required to have at least two talents that separate you from the rest. \n\nThe rule of one woman from every country still remains. But to be the candidate, that’s a whole other story. \n\nIf you want to be the ruler of earth, you have to start early. You have to train your whole life, you have to go to a special school. Many women attend, but few ever graduate. \n\nI have been through one of these schools. And now, I have been selected as the candidate for The United Stars of America. I am a celebrity. The citizens worship me. I am ravished with expensive gifts, I get to do whatever I want, I get to go wherever I want. I’ve hung out with just about any celebrity you can name. \n\nI’ve had 6 months to prepare for the final competition, the one that will determine the rest of my life. I will either become the Queen of all Queens, or I will become an outcast. Losers of the Miss Universe competition never see the end of torment from their home country if they come back without a title. \n\nThe last Miss Universe ruled for 20 years until her premature death 6 months ago. She was loved and cherished. Tensions have been high since then, and every country has scrambled to find the most suitable candidate. I have been blessed to be chosen, but now that my dream has become a reality, I am more scared than ever. \n\nI have gotten used to this life of luxury. I have trained all my life. And now, I will have to convince the world that I am the only woman fit to be their Queen. I will have to convince the panel of judges and the High Council, who all have their own biases. Last competition’s Queen was Miss India. And as an American, I have to take home the title. Two world powers battling for complete and utter rule of the earth. My country is desperate for power, as it has always been. And now it is up to me. \n\nWith my years of training, I have always thought I could win. \n\nBut right now, standing in front of the whole world, I can’t stop my hands from shaking. The lights are far too bright, my hair is far too stiff. My dress is so tight I can hardly breathe. \n\nThe women standing next to me must feel the same, and I wish them the best. We are all in the same boat after all. I wish it did not have to be this way. The tension in the air is so thick I feel like I am breathing in smoke, not the oxygen I’m so desperate to find. \n\nI try to calm myself. I did amazing. I placed first in the trivia, with Miss China coming in a close second. An American has never come in first in the category. \n\nAnd then I shocked the world with my ability to sing, and to play 4 different instruments. I can also speak 10 languages. One more than the deceased Queen. \n\nI have to win. This is my destiny. \n\nSo as the host walks onto the stage, my posture stiffens. My hands are clammy, the makeup caked on my face feels like it can sweat off any moment. \n\nThe live audience of around 3 million people cheers as he stands under the spotlight. He brings the microphone to his mouth and smiles. \n\nThe audience hushes, and the most uncomfortable silence I have ever endured falls across the stadium. \n\n“The council has come to an agreement. The votes have been counted. Both have been taken into account, as well as the talents each woman has presented for the world today.” \n\nI can barely hear anything except my own heart pounding. I close my eyes and try my best to stay still. \n\nThe host unfolds the envelope that contains my future. \n\nHe opens the letter inside, and holds it into view. \n\n“The next Miss Universe, our next beloved Queen, has been chosen to be Miss United States Of America.” \n\nMy knees buckle at the mention of my title. I fall to the ground, tears erupting from my once closed eyes. \n\nI won. \n\nI am Miss Universe. \n\nI am the most powerful woman in the world. \n\nThe women standing around me do not lend me a hand. They are devastated, their gazes averted. Their coldness suddenly stirs an emotion inside of me that I have never felt before. Hatred. \n\nMaybe it’s because of all the stress I am currently under. Maybe it’s because they know all their riches will soon be gone. Maybe they are even more selfish than me. \n\nRegardless, I know the whole world is watching me. I pick myself up and stumble over to the host. \n\n“Miss Universe everyone!” He cheers, followed by an eruption of applause from the audience. Everyone seems to be pleased with the decision. Everyone except the other candidates. \n\nI was at least expecting a congratulations from them, a few smiles sent my way— but no. Nothing. \n\nI face the crowd as the notorious Miss Universe crown is placed upon my head. The audience roars in reply. \n\nI wipe my tears away. “Thank you!” I call out, blowing kisses left and right. \n\nMy rule starts now, my era will now begin. I will do what is right, and nobody can stop me. \n\nA grin creeps along my face, stretching from ear to ear. \n\nWhat the council failed to realize, was my ill intentions. \n\nMy first act as Queen will be the termination of Miss Universe. Every council member, and every candidate. And I will slaughter anyone who disagrees with me. \n\n(If you read the whole thing, thank you! This is my first post for a writing prompt. I wrote it in 20 minutes so excuse any grammar mistakes.) \n"
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[WP] Everyone has a spirit accompanying them. These spirits are manifestations of their personality. These spirits range from looking like axolotls with wings, floating cubes or even humanoid. Your spirit is somewhat… weird.
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"Farlow had arrived late. Not \"late\" late, but Farlow late. He walked in the government building and sat down at the closest bench and in 2 minutes was already asleep. A guard approached him and woke him up. Turns out his snoring was disturbing the other customers. \n\n\"Are you here to register your spirit, sir?\" the guard asked Farlow who did not seem surprised about this rude awakening.\n\n\"I guess. You?\" Farlow didn't seem to notice that the guard is in a uniform and just thought that this was small talk. The guard looked at his badge and back at Farlow. Getting no reaction, he pointed at his badge. Then tapped at it several times. Farlow had already lost interest and was turning on the other side to continue sleeping.\n\n\"Sorry,\" the guard tapped on Farlow's shoulder. \"That'll be the seventh booth, sir. Now. Please go. Please.\"\n\nIf Farlow cared, he would have grumbled. With slow steps he walked along the booths. So many good booths, but he has to go to seventh. What a drag. Finally having reached the door, he opened it without knocking and slumped down in the only free chair right in front of a government clerk. She was gray as the walls, old as the walls, beautiful as the walls. She had never said \"I'm too old for this shit\", for her age and this shit were meant for each other. In a tone that would bore a rock she started: \"Name?\"\n\n\"Farlow,\" answered the guest, already getting foggy with sleep.\n\n\"Farlow.\" The old women looked over her appointment list. Then skipped a page back. Then one more. After a few more she found his name on the list. \"You were supposed to come in April.\" \n\n\"Yeah, well...\" Farlow started and then, instead of continuing, just shrugged.\n\n\"So. Your spirit. Name?\" The old woman demanded.\n\n\"Name?\" Farlow started digging in his pocket and pulled out a ball of green slime. He set it on the table right upon the papers and the slime slowly settled in a flat pancake all over important documents. \"I don't know. Thing. This thing. Thingum.\"\n\nThe worker picked up some papers and folded them, so that the slime collected in a small pool. Then she promptly poured it down on the floor and sorted her papers back in order. \n\n\"Please do not put your spirit on my sprits, thank you very much. Thingum. What does it do?\"\n\nFarlow glared at the slime that oozed at his feet and seemed not to go anywhere. \"Is.\"\n\n\"Ok, it \"is\". Done. Anything else.\"\n\n\"Well...\" Farlow poked it with his feet. \"It kind of just... Slobblers...\"\n\n\"That's not a word.' The woman objected.\n\n\"But it does.\" affirmed Farlow. The woman stood up and looked over her desk to see what the slime is doing. Farlow pointed at it with an open palm and looked up. After about 5 seconds the woman sat down.\n\n\"Slobbers.\" She noted in her papers. \"I guess there is nothing much else to do here. Usually it takes longer, but I see that this time... That this time there is no... No powers that... Mr Farlow? Please, Farlow? I see. *James! Can you come in here! There is a man asleep in my booth!*\"\n\n[Literary Nobody](https://www.reddit.com/r/LiteraryNobody/)",
"The spectral version of me--me 2.0--threw herself in a chair, flipping her pink hair over her shoulder and glancing around the apartment in disdain. \"Girl, you live like this?\"\n\nI ignored her and sank onto the floor. This had to be some sick joke. I'd waited patiently for my spirit for years, day in and out, through late bloomer jokes and pitying glances, through the awkwardness of school events where I was the only one without a spirit and couldn't participate in certain activities. Certain one day it would be worth it. And now it turns out my spirit is...me?\n\nThe hell? People were going to think I was a crazy narcissist. I'd never seen a spirit take on the form of its paramour. It just didn't happen.\n\n\"Pout all you want, Princess,\" my doppelgänger told me. \"I'm here for the long haul.\"\n\nWell, work was going to be interesting tomorrow...\n\n"
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[WP] Humanity suddenly forgets the entire 90s and all the records, images, newspapers of it disappear. People remember new years party in 89 up to twelve o'clock and then the year 2000 with a blank in between. One day, you remember everything. You caused the collective amnesia.
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"So uh... I dont quite know where to start with all this. The event itself or those that lead up to it? I'm probably not even the right person to tell this tale. Even though it's my fault.\n\nYou see about twelve years ago, just before the start of twenty nineteen all data on the nineteen nineties vanished. Tax records. Census data. Video recordings. Music albums. Everything. You name something from the nineteen nineties all data is gone. You, me or anyone you ask will only know that it didn't exist at the trike of midnight December thirty first eighty nine then did exist at just passed midnight January first, two thousand. A planet wide vacuum of information. I remember the worldwide panic and chaos that ensued. Didn't amount to anything other than a substantial chunk taken out of the tax payers pocket to repair damage caused by riots and what have you. Mostly people just got on with it. We lost a fair amount but a lot of stuff surprisingly wasn't missed. Or if it was we didn't notice. So no one bothered trying to remember after about mid summer twenty twenty. And thus no one since has had much reason to recall that missing decade. Until today.\n\nNow this is where it gets strange. Its also where what I think I know and what I do know blur a tad. I'm fairly certain I'm the cause. Don't ask me how. Don't ask me why because God alone knows what actually happened. To explain I found something very peculiar while working on an archeological dig site somewhere in Nepal up the side of some mountain in the Himalayas, the exact name has slipped my mind in the past years but I'm sure I could find it with enough digging through my records. I don't quite know how to describe it. But appeared to be a book, bound with golden thread and using thin iron sheets as pages.\n\nIt was in a coffin that I remember clearly. But much else is foggy. Like something or someone is trying it's best to remain unknown. I do recall that the skeleton was really weird. Definetly not human but definetly not animal. Because I don't know anything that has silver bones or wings on a humanoid body. But then again, my memory is unreliable on these events so it may be nothing. However I recall the book vividly. And how I wasted hours with a colleague who studied linguistics trying to crack the insane scripting used to record whatever information the book contained.\n\nNow the only thing I recall about the night that all information on the nineties vanished I'd been drinking. Well, that I'd been drinking and I'd really gotten angry over something. Something that resulted in me slamming my hands down on the table, one of which got a nasty cut on the book, and yelling \"I wish that entire bloody decade never happened.\""
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[WP] Zombies exist but it’s not an apocalypse. Just another day to day inconvenience like rain or your car breaking down.
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"I watched a lot of movies about the end of the world in various forms; zombie movies were one of my favourites. It happened, it finally happened and as predicated the virus spread and part of the population turned into mindless zombies ... the only problem being that they ended up being a massive disappointment. The zombies were not like in the movies, they did not use their arms at all, dropped by their sides and just walked around trying to eat you. All anyone had to do, was to put your hand on their forehead (stretched out) and they would never be able to get close to you ... it felt silly at first, but you get used to it.\n\n​\n\nSometimes it would take days or even weeks for my (zombie) ex-girlfriend would turn up to my front door, still thinking that she lived here. I was not the only one to have this fate, others had zombie boyfriends and girlfriends (exes and \"current partners\") turn up at their place; it turns out that they mindlessly walk around but gravitate towards something familiar. At first we laughed at how silly it was, she would wait at the front door to be let in ... clearly the most ineffective zombies in the world, the only way that you would get bitten is if you physically put your finger in her mouth ... and who would be stupid enough to do that!\n\n​\n\nYou would think we would be able to dispose of them, who would not jump at the chance to get rid of their exes as they are not human anymore. The government passed a law and they are to continue to \"live\" as they were not causing any issues for people. So, yep the zombie apocalypse turned out to just be a massive inconvenience.",
" “Come on!” Alliane pulled on Jonah’s arm. “You can’t see anything from there, get closer!” She stood on one of the city’s outer walls trying to get her boyfriend to look at the river of zombies shambling below. Jonah crinkled his nose and shook his head. \n\n“I can’t get any closer to that stench, how can you stand it?” Alliane turned over the railing and stared down at the walking corpses. They shuffled through an empty concrete moat built around the city moaning the whole way. She made a show of inhaling a deep breath through her nostrils. Alliane exhaled then turned back to Jonah with a disgusted face. \n\n“Blech,” she giggled. “Never smelled that before.” She left the railing and led Jonah towards the elevator. “We’re on an adventure and you need to be more adventurous.” \n\n“I’m adventurous, I just don’t like stinky smells,” he grumbled as they stepped into the elevator. Alliane realized he may have taken it more seriously than she intended. She kissed his cheek as an apology then changed the subject. \n\n“We’ll get the picture then move on. What’s next on the list?” \n\n“Uh..,” Jonah pulled his cell phone out and swiped through the screens until he pulled up a picture of a list. “A ladder.” \n\n“A ladder? That’s kind of boring,” Alliane said. “I don’t think those girls gave us all the rules.” \n\n“Maybe they didn’t understand it either,” Jonah handed his phone to Alliane. “It says #07 La Escalera,” he shrugged. “I don’t know why it’s in Spanish, but that’s a ladder. I don’t know what the number is, maybe we have to find one with the number seven on it?” The elevator glided to halt then dinged. The doors opened and Alliane stepped out first. She headed straight for the viewing window. \n\n“That’s super easy, we can grab a ladder from here and draw a seven on it,” she looked back to wink an emerald eye at him. “Two birds, one stone.” They reached a wide glass wall that separated the zombies from the tourists. The glass turned into concrete at about eight feet. The horde of corpses blocked out most of the sunlight leaving a dim interior. On one side, people stood in front of the glass wall and posed with frightened faces for the camera. On the other side, the legion ignored the unending flashes and continued to flow forward. \n\n“Here,” Jonah handed his phone to Alliane then he stood in front of the clear wall. Alliane snapped a quick picture and then they swapped places. After Jonah took Alliane’s picture he joined her by the wall and watched the zombies. “Do you think they’re blind?” Jonah asked as he wrapped his arm around Alliane.\n\n“Probably. They are dead,” she replied.\n\n“No, that’s not it,” a woman’s voice said from beside them. The couple turned to see a young woman wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a green vest that identified her as a docent. “Hi,” she smiled at them and pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m Mundo.” Jonah waved with his free hand and Alliane smiled.\n\n“I’m Jonah and this is Alliane.” Mundo nodded at the parade of corpses behind them. “Their eyes work fine, but the glass is treated. It’s kind of like a two-way mirror, but they only see black.”\n\n“Oh I see. Thank you for the information,” Jonah said.\n\n“No problem,” Mundo said. “Anything else I can help you with?” They both shook their heads.\n\n“Not unless you can help us find a ladder around here,” Alliane giggled then turned her attention back to the zombies. She knew they’d be leaving soon and she wanted to enjoy every moment.\n\n“Ignore her, we’re fine. Thank you again,” Mundo gave him a curious look.\n\n“An Escalera?” she asked. Immediately both heads whipped around to face her.\n\n“Why did you say it in Spanish?” Jonah asked.\n\n“What’s Spanish?” Mundo asked. Alliane’s hand flew fast and sharp to smack Jonah on the back of his head.\n\n“It’s nothing, just an inside joke between us,” Alliane said quickly. “RIGHT, honey?”\n\n“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’m so used to talking to her things slip out sometimes.” Mundo stared at them with piercing eyes, but the corners of her lips tugged upward. A smile slowly spread across her face.\n\n“Oh my god,” she said. Her eyes widened and seemed to sparkle more, even in the dim light. She began bouncing in place with excitement. “You don’t know what you are, do you???!” Her restraint withered with every second as she became more energetic. Jonah saw severe worry flash over Alliane’s face.\n\n‘I know that we’re leaving,” he said. “But thank you again.”\n\n“You guys are from a different universe!” Mundo blurted out. “Two actually, one each,” she corrected herself in a quieter tone. They stopped walking.\n\n“What makes you say that?” Jonah asked. He guided Alliane away from Mundo and tried to put himself between them.\n\n“I NEVER get to explain it to anyone, this is awesome! FOLLOW ME!” She grabbed the closest hand, Jonah’s, and led them to the cafeteria in a hurry. She sat them at a small booth.\n\n“Wait here, I’ll get us some drinks. I’ve got a lot to tell you about yourselves,” she turned and took two steps away. Then she stopped and turned around. “OH, please don’t leave. You’re not in any danger, I promise.” Jonah and Alliane nodded, then Mundo turned away again. After two more steps, she stopped and turned around again. “BUT, if you do leave do yourselves a favor. Look for a Mundo on the next Earth you visit. We can explain things to you.” She turned and walked to the counter.\n\n“Up to you, hon,” Jonah said. They both watched Mundo get in a short line with three bottled waters. Alliane shrugged.\n\n“She called the ladder an escalera, that can’t be a coincidence. Plus, she somehow knew we weren’t from here. Let’s listen. Maybe she can help us with other items on the scavenger hunt too, not just the ladder.”\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #350. 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. ",
"\"Ralph, you mind passing me a couple more bolts? I think I see another shambler by the fence.\" I loaded my crossbow before going back to my laptop, keeping it nearby for when the blighter came in range\n\nDear Martha,\n\nFor years the movies made zombies out as if they were a legitimate threat. Nothing of the sort it seems. When that fool created a zombie virus we knew how to dispatch them so well, they might as well be coons. Now that said the fact infection can occur posthumously is a problem. When the first zombies reached graveyards we had hundreds to deal with. \n\nI looked up as the brain dead monster found his way over the wall, and raised the crossbow\nClick, thud. The zombie dropped like a stone with a bolt firmly planted in it's head. \n\n\"Well that's that.\"\n\nChilds play. Just like fending off coyotes or wolves. Keep the kids inside after dark and have a shotgun by the front door. All in all I think this is a good thing. Instead of fighting out neighbors we just shoot the dead ones. The crime rates are way down due to a new form of punishment. Being fed to the dead. No one ever has been of course, but who would want to risk it? Anyway I hope to make the drive up to the bay to visit later this week. Be nice to have some time away from the pests for a while. \n\nLove, Will."
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[WP] You are vacationing in Canada when a man flashes what looks to be a pistol tucked into his waist-band, and demands whatever money is in your wallet. Knowing the politeness of Canadians you say to the robber "No thanks Buddy." "Alright then" he says, and leaves.
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"It was a chill December evening, around minus ten Celsius, and I was enjoying a warm Beaver Tail by the river. I had just come from Tim Horton's after quickly dispatching my double double into the trash. I always forgot I didn't actually like Tim Horton's. \n\nI was nearing the end of my vacation to visit family in Canada. The next day I'd be on a plane to Texas to reunite with my wife. I figured I'd enjoy the beautiful landscape while it lasted.\n\nI took a final bite of my pastry and made my way along the river. Ahead I could see a local farmers market that was finishing up before close. I noticed the telltale bottles of sweet brown nectar even at a distance, and knew I had to grab some Maple Syrup to bring home. \n\nJust as I began making my way toward the market, I tripped slightly. I looked down. My boot laces had come undone, I'd have to tie them up.\n\nAs I bent over I heard a voice behind me.\n\n\"Oh hey there! What's that all aboot eh?\"\n\nI finished tying my shoes and faced the voice. It was a man in a plaid jacket, camo pants, and a black toque. \n\n\"Just tying up my boots, I almost fell.\"\n\nHe looked at my boots.\n\n\"Those are nice boots.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\nI went to move away but he moved to stand in front of me.\n\n\"Eh buddy, I'm soory to do this but I gotta ask for those boots.\"\n\nHe lifted his jacket slightly to reveal the end of a bolt-action hunting rifle jutting out of his pants. That couldn't be comfortable.\n\n\"Hey\" I said incredulously \"you can't have a gun!\" \n\nHe looked puzzled a moment and then replied \"Yes I can! I have my unrestricted licence and this is a registered unrestricted firearm!\"\n\n\"Okay well you can't conceal carry.\"\n\nHe thought about it a moment, and pulled the gun from his pants.\n\n\"There.\" he said plainly \"Now give me those boots.\"\n\nI began to remove my boots, as slowly as I could. I was both trying to buy time, and annoy my robber.\n\n\"Hey buddy hurry up eh? Don't be a hoser!\"\n\nI was onto my second boot when I saw flashing lights in the distance behind my robber. Someone at the market must have seen me and called the police. I needed to distract my robber a bit longer.\n\n\"Hey, want to hear a joke?\"\n\n\"Sure, but make it quick, and hurry up and give me that other boot.\"\n\n\"How are Timmies coffee and having sex in a canoe similar?\"\n\n\"I don't know, how?\"\n\n\"They are both fucking close to water!\"\n\nThe joke had the robber in hysterics. He began laughing so hard he lost focus. In that time two officers sprinted towards us, leaving their double doubles spilled brown in the snow behind them.\n\nWhen they arrived they non-violently disarmed and arrested the culprit. As I gave them my statement I noticed the unmistakable telltale remains of chocolate fondant and cream from what could only be Boston Cream donuts on their lips. \n\n\"You're lucky we could get here so fast\" one of them said to me.\n\n\"Buddy and I were just out for a rip to pick up some darts, so we were real close.\"\n\nI offered them each a smoke which they graciously accepted.\n\nUnfortunately out of the whole ordeal, the worst part was the market closed and I wasn't able to get any maple syrup before my flight home."
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[WP] A thief has broken to a house and got away with thousands of dollars worth of things. They made a mistake, however, and will pay for it dearly. For they accidentally stole a project from a high school student who’s grade depends on it.
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"Peter could've sworn he had left his laptop safely on his desk when he took off for school this morning.\n\nBut now, just after coming home with his mom after work at 5 p.m., it was no longer there.\n\nIt was a pretty nice laptop - he bought it on sale for about $3,000 a year and a half ago, and still ran like a dream - but more importantly, it held a crucial high school English essay: one that would determine whether or not he'd be graduating this year.\n\nThe 12th grader was never particularly good at school, but his grades had taken an especially bad dip since last winter, when his older brother died. He had never quite gotten over it, or had gotten closure from the people responsible for his death.\n\nPeter's had most of the year to start healing, but now that it's February, he's staring down the barrel of high school graduation. And without the essay (worth 40 per cent of his final grade) that's due in two short days, he might not make it.\n\nIt wouldn't have been so bad if, two months ago, Peter hadn't begged - begged! - his teacher, Ms. Harmon, to write off the disgraceful grade he had gotten on his mid-terms, and instead place more weight on this essay. He doubted that any amount of begging would get her to write this one off too.\n\nTo add insult to injury, this was the first project in almost a year where he had actually *tried* to get a good grade, and felt the essay was worth at least an A, if not a B+, if he managed to turned it in.\n\nPeter glanced at his window and saw that it wasn't latched. He sighed and stuck his head out his bedroom door.\n\n\"Mom, check the camera,\" he called. \"I think we've been robbed.\"\n\n\\---\n\nBy the time the police left, Peter and his mother had compiled a rough estimate of the value of the things taken. Most of the items were taken from Peter's room, which made sense, he supposed, seeing as it was the entry point, and most of the household's electronics were in his room.\n\nStill, his mother was also missing a few necklaces and bracelets. The thieves appear to have not gone downstairs, choosing to mainly loot the top floor. It didn't seem like an extremely sophisticated operation.\n\nThe security camera, mounted above the front door, yielded no fruitful results. At 1:54 p.m., while Peter was still at school and his mother was at work, it showed two men walk up to front door, wearing wide-brimmed hats pulled down low to hide their faces from the camera. \n\nThey knocked on the door, nervously peeked around, then turned around to leave - presumably to walk around to the back of the house, climb up the oak tree in the backyard, and climb in through a bedroom window.\n\nPeter's bedroom window, which had been breached before.\n\nHe wasn't completely sure who the robbers were, but he had a pretty good idea.\n\n\\---\n\nMarshall was a great kid, by all accounts. He was nice, funny, tall, and charming. Up until the end of high school he was both a successful varsity basketball *and* hockey player. And, unlike Peter, he was effortlessly good at school.\n\nSo that's why it was so shocking to see him fall so quickly.\n\nShortly after graduation, he got in with a bad crowd: specifically, two piece of shit losers named Moe and Nate. The two of them liked heroin, even more than they liked wearing wifebeaters, chain smoking cigarettes and laughing at their own farts. \n\nThey fit every small-town junkie stereotype in the books, which was why it was so odd that a well-to-do young man like Marshall would start hanging around with them.\n\nUnfortunately, Moe and Nate's bad habits rubbed off on Marshall, and it only took him three years to completely drive his life off the rails.\n\nTwo weeks before his brother died of an accidental overdose, Peter woke up in his room in a state of shock. He could vaguely make out the outlines of two people, trying their best to remain quiet but failing miserably.\n\n\"Who's there?\" he called out softly.\n\nHe heard a bump, then a fit of quiet giggling. Then, floating out of the darkness:\n\n\"Sorry man, it's us: Moe and Nate. Is Marshall home?\" the voice was slurred.\n\n\"How did you get in here?\" asked Peter, clutching his blankets in a mix of shock and anger.\n\n\"The tree out back,\" the voice - he wasn't sure which one it was - giggled. \"And your window was open.\"\n\n\"Well, you shouldn't climb in through other peoples' windows,\" said Peter, who was no longer shocked but still plenty angry.\n\n\"Marshall isn't here. He's at his girlfriends. They probably have the drugs you're looking for.\"\n\n\"Hey, no need to be a dick,\" said the second voice. \"We'll head out.\"\n\nAnd without a further word, the two of them climbed back outside.\n\n\\---\n\nThat may have been the last time Peter had seen them, but he suspected it wasn't the last time Moe and Nate were in his room. After all, who among us wouldn't rob your dead friend's little brother so you can pawn their possessions off for more drugs?\n\nFuck, why didn't Peter learn to lock his window after the last time?\n\nHe wasn't going to let those two douchebags get away with it. An hour after the police left, Peter grabbed his coat and headed for the door.\n\n\"Where are you going, Peter?\" his mom called.\n\n\"Going to check some pawn shops, see if my stuff is being put up for sale,\" he lied.\n\n\"Don't they all close at 5?\"\n\n\"Nah, most of them are open until 9,\" said Peter, speaking entirely out of his ass. \"See you later, mom.\"\n\nHe left the house, hopped on his bike and sped off across town, toward the local trailer park. When his brother was still alive, he used to tag along with him and wait in the car while he went off to go score.\n\nPeter used to hate those trips - he wasn't stupid, he knew what his brother was doing - but now he appreciated them: at least now he knew where he was going.\n\nHe didn't really have a plan. He figured he would knock on the door, explain that he had an important essay stored on the stolen laptop, and wait for the two high-as-a-kite junkies to make the reasonable decision and give him back his hard work.\n\nIf that failed, he had his mother's handgun in his backpack.\n\n\\---\n\nHolding his breath, Peter walked up to Moe and Nate's trailer and knocked. No answer.\n\nAfter a failed attempt to peer in through the window, Peter tried the door, and to his surprise, it was open. He went in, and found himself almost immediately recoiling with disgust.\n\nMoe and Nate couldn't have been dead for long; the cigarette in the ashtray was still smoking and one of them was still holding a needle between their limp fingers. It was clear that they had met an end very similar to his brother's - except far too late, in Peter's opinion. \n\nTheir coffee table was covered in Ziploc baggies and wads of cash. It appeared they had already managed to sell most of the stuff they stole from Peter's house and spend some of the money on drugs - and bad drugs at that. It must be a doozy to kill two men at once.\n\nBut when he turned around, Peter noticed his prize computer sitting on the counter, clearly in the middle of some very aggressive attempts to unlock it.\n\nHardly believing his luck, Peter grabbed the laptop and its cord, and stuffed in his backpack. Grinning from ear to ear, he turned around, leaving Moe and Nate behind, and stepped out on the stoop.\n\nHe was happy about getting his essay back, but that wasn't why Peter was smiling.\n\nHe finally had closure.",
"\"Go, go, go!\" I whispered urgently as I tried to shut the car door quickly without slamming it.\n\nBut my idiot compadre Aaron popped the clutch like he was trying to go back in time, which resulted in the tires screaming so loudly we may as well have shot guns in the air like drunken cowboys.\n\n\"Jesus fucking Christ.\" I complained.\n\n\"What'd you get, Jay?\" Aaron asked.\n\nI hadn't really looked yet. I first found cash and jewelry and a PS4, then I just started shoveling shiny things in the bag because my heart was pounding like a fucking jack hammer and I just wanted to get the hell out of there. One item in particular was pretty interesting, though I had no clue what it was. It looked like a couple of chrome pipes twisted around eachother like some kind of fancy, custom tailpipe. But it was only the size of a shoebox. It was so heavy I nearly left it, but my curiosity won.\n\nI pulled the heavy, chrome object from the bag. I hadn't noticed before, but the underside had dozens of smaller tubes that wound through eachother like something you'd expect to see in the architecture of an alien space ship. It had a couple of switches on it, but no chord, and I couldn't see anywhere to put batteries.\n\n\"What is it?\" Aaron asked.\n\n\"Dude, just get to the garage.\" I barked.\n\nAaron looked in the rear view mirror for a second and went pale.\n\n---------\n\nDevon had just put the finishing touches on his science project before cleaning up and getting ready for bed. His invention was not only going to win this year's science fair, it might change the world.\n\nIt was an A+ for *sure*.\n\nToo excited to sleep, Devon stared at the ceiling and saw images of himself giving tv interviews for the local news, then national news, then a prime time special. He even saw himself accepting the nobel peace prize.\n\nHe was so lost in his future world he almost didn't hear the garage door open. Thing is, the garage door *never* opened. He had filled his dad's garage from wall to wall with various items, making it impossible to get a vehicle in. His parents were forced to park in the driveway, but since they were out of town for the weekend the driveway was empty.\n\nSo *who the hell just opened the garage door?*\n\nDevon jumped to his feet with the adrenaline of a mountain climber and tip toed to his bedroom door like a ninja. Someone was in the house, and they were shuffling through things maniacally. Great, since his parents were gone some jerks decided to rob the place.\n\nAfter about three minutes he heard the garage door open and shut again. He was safe. He quickly ran to the garage to make sure they didn't destroy his project, but when he saw that it was missing altogether, he saw red. In that same moment he heard an engine roar behind loud, screeching tires. He looked to his left and saw his dirt bike. Without thinking, he hit the switch to open the garage door and jumped on the dirt bike. \n\n----------\n\n\"What's wrong?\" I asked Aaron. I looked behind us and saw a single, dim headlight, shaking in the distance.\n\n\"Jay, someone's following us!\" Aaron's voice cracked in sheer terror. \n\n\"Well, lose him!\"\n\nBehind us, that persistent, yellow orb continued its pursuit. It seemed to draw closer no matter what he did. \n\n\"Dude.\" I was getting freaked out. \n\nAaron made a hard left at a 'T' where the road ended at the gate of a cemetery, then he made a right turn at the end of the block. At the end of that stretch of road he turned right again.\n\n\"Are they gone?\" Aaron asked.\n\nBehind us all I saw was darkness. \n\n\"Yeah, think so.\" I said.\n\n\"Thank God.\"\n\n----------\n\nDevon knew which direction the robbers were headed by the ridiculous sound of their car, which probably never had its oil changed. He might even be able to follow the piece of shit on scent alone.\n\nHe picked up their trail immediately, and tried desperately to close the gap. He was so angry he hadn't even considered what kind of people he was chasing. Maybe they had guns? He didn't care. He needed to catch up to them. He couldn't let them get away with his life changing project.\n\nLike a homing missile, Devon copied their every move, but the car always increased the distance on long stretches. The car vanished left, and when Devon reached the end of the road he realized he could cut through the cemetery. If they weren't going around the cemetery they would lose him. But if they were circling around, it would be the only way he would be able to cut them off on the other side.\n\n*Fuck it.* Devon thought as he raced straight through the 'T' in the road and cut through the cemetery. He was so saturated by adrenaline he thought he could taste it. \n\n---------\n\n\"I wonder who the fuck that wa--ahhh!\" Aaron suddenly hit the breaks and veered left, into the median. The front end jolted violently over the cement wall and settled awkwardly, its wheels spinning haplessly above the ground. We weren't hurt, but Aaron's face looked ghastly as he was horrified by what he had seen. Shaking, he looked around in a panic. \"Where is he? Where *is* he?\" \n\nCompletely beside himself, Aaron climbed out of the window and ran into the night. \n\nI unbuckled myself, unlatched my door--letting it fall to the ground--and squeezed through the ten or so inches the door allowed before stumbling to my feet. \n\nThe car's engine was giving off steam that the breeze carried down the road, illuminated by a yellow light. A dark figure stood in the mist; an unnaturally large silhouette of a man. \n\n---------\n\nIt only took him a minute to fly through the cemetery and come to a halt in the road on the other side. Devon turned the headlight to his dirt bike off and waited as the thief's clunker turned the corner. He could hear the old struts buckling under the pressure.\n\nHe waited until the perfect moment before turning the headlight back on, making it apear as if he manifest out of nothing in the middle of the road. He couldn't have hoped for a more satisfying reaction.\n\nThe loud rust bucket jolted straight into the median, similar to the way a cat might be compelled to run straight into a door. After a moment, the driver climbed out of the door, glanced in his direction, then stumbled away and ran in the opposite direction. Seconds later, the passenger door dropped open, hitting the ground. Someone crawled out and stumbled to their feet.\n\n--------\n\n\"W-w-what the fuck are y-you?\" I asked the spooky figure. \n\nThe silhouette grew in size as it began to move. Then it dispursed, and before me stood a teenage boy. \n\n\"I'm a senior,\" The boy stepped closer. \"You took my project.\"\n\nThen I remembered the shiny, tubular object I was holding before the car hit the median. I pointed to the car and noticed my finger shaking embarrassingly.\n\n\"Thanks.\" The boy said. He took the object, got back on his dirt bike, and drove off. He didn't seem to care about the money, or other items I had taken from his house.\n\nI'm just glad I didn't steal his porn. "
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[WP] They say that your birthmark is a symbol of how you died in a previous life. Usually lines or scars over the heart and head are common, symbols of strokes and aneurysms. One day you realize that a new mark has just randomly appeared, an equation inscribed into your hand.
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"I woke up and stood out of bed. The sunrise was peeking through the window blinds, and my alarm hadn’t gone off yet. I sat on my puffy down comforter and breathed in the new day.\n\nAs I glanced around the room, I caught a strange sight out of the side of my eye. I looked down to get a closer look. Upon further inspection, I could see the faint outline of a grouping of symbols. \n\nThey were definitely numbers and letters. I had no idea how they got there, or why they were in that particular arrangement.\n\nI was seriously disturbed by the appearance of these markings, but what are you gonna do? You still have to work and put food on the table. I’d worry about it later.\n\nI forced a bowl of cereal down my mouth, chewing the crunchy Lucky Charms, and putting the marks in the back of my mind. \n\nAfter washing my cereal bowl, I slipped into my suit, which I had laid out on my dining room table. I stepped into my finest dress shoes and opened my front door.\n\nA man was standing there, blocking my exit.\n\n“Hello Mr. Bernard. We’ve been waiting for you.”\n\n*What the hell?*\n\nThe man was tall with pale skin, not a hair on his whole body. He reach out to shake my hand. I grasped it and shook. His hand was cold and weak.\n\n“Can I help you?” I asked.\n\n“Yes, actually you can.”\n\nThe man twisted my arm and tried to take a photo of my arm with the markings. I wrenched my arm away, and rubbed my wrist.\n\n“Who the hell are you? What do you want from me?”\n\n“I am here to retrieve the hidden symbol. It’s been lost, but we tracked it to you.”\n\n“Look mister, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” *I do now*. “I’m late to work, so if you’ll just move aside.”\n\n“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He showed a glimmer of a gun in his hip holster. \n\nI was unsure of what to do next. Just let him take the picture? *screw that, and screw him, I’ve got to go*.\n\n“I’m not intimidated by you, so you can just move aside and let me go. Now.”\n\n“It will be easier if you just give me the symbol. There is no other way out of this.”\n\nI considered if I should just let him take the damn picture.\n\n“Fine.”\n\nI revealed the section of my arm the symbols were. *Which had disappeared*. \n\nThe man looked positively livid. He went for his gun and I went for his hand. We scuffled, and fell to the ground. He yanked hard, and released his gun from my grip. I grabbed the gun again, and in one final burst, he pulled the trigger, and I twisted his hand back toward him. He went limp, and blood pooled below his back.\n\nI got up and stared at this ghostly man on the floor. What was going on, and why did he want to look at the markings on my arm? And how did he find me?\n\n***\n\nThe three men rode in the back of a black Bentley. They all wore black RayBan Wayfarers, and had the appearance of mannequins in a department store.\n\nOne began to speak in a low deep tone: “Did our asset manage to retrieve the alchemist?”\n\n“The treasure is still out of reach. But we have our eyes watching. It won’t be long.”\n\n“Excellent. Our images are too grainy to translate the entire formula. Time is not on our side.”\n\n***\n\nI pulled the ghost man into my apartment and sopped up the blood. Luckily the gun had a silencer, and none of my neighbors heard us.\n\nWhen I looked back at my arm the markings reappeared. The marks seemed to return when my skin was cooled down. \n\nI was incredibly curious by this point, and entered some of the symbols into google. I didn’t find anything useful. \n\nI looked through the pale man’s pockets and found a wallet. There was no identification, but there were several business cards and fifty-five dollars cash.\n\nI held up one of the cards. It had two lines:\n\nSeptet Chaggins\n\n555-596-5086\n\nI had nothing to lose. I dialed the number on my cellphone, and waited.\n\n***\n\nThe three white men sat in silence. They looked forward, deep in thought. The men were broken out of their thoughts by a loud ringtone. It sounded like an alien spaceship shooting photon torpedoes.\n\n“Yes?”\n\nThere was dead silence.\n\n“Reeder? Is that you? What happened to the alchemist?”\n\nMore silence.\n\nThe phone cut out.\n\n***\n\nI threw the phone to the floor and stared at my arm. *Alchemist? What’s going on here?*\n\nThe formula looked like gibberish to me, but I did recognize the symbol Au after the equal sign.\n\n*Gold*.\n\nGold, alchemist. My mind registered the situation, and my earth shattered. \n\n*I’m too valuable to live*.\n\nI dabbed blood off my shoes, and fled my apartment, slamming the door behind me. I wouldn’t be returning.\n"
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[WP] To help out with the new shapeshifter crisis, you've invented a machine that can detect them, the only problem is, it seems to go off on you, it must have been mis-calibrated... right?
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"Five months, three days, nine hours, 42 minutes and 5 seconds. It works it works it- BEEEEEEEEEEP Oh no oh no oh\n\n\"Whats happening?\" Charlie said, charging in\n\n\"Oh nothing\" I said \"The machine isnt working though, its saying im a shapeshifter! Crazy huh?\"\n\n\"Boss...\"\n\n\"Charlie, what is it\"\n\n\"Are you sure-\"\n\n\"Look Charlie! Ive been in the society of Scientists For Universal Discovery since i was 15! I am to be trusted!\"\n\n\"Ok boss\" \n\nCharlie walked away, I picked up the small device, it was like a watch, it scanned people though. I put it on and left to present it to the King. I walk out of the building to see my mother, all of a sudden BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP\n\n\"Hi honey, umm, whats that?\" said Mother\n\n\"Its an invention, it isnt working though..\"\n\n\"Whats it for?\"\n\n\"Detecting shape shifters.\"\n\nMother gulped... Oh no... Oh no... That cant mean, can it?"
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Note: This actually came from a dream. I’ve been wanting to write a short story about this but couldn’t find inspiration. So now I’m sharing this to you all.
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[WP] You find a scythe outside your house and gave you the power to see and reap out souls. You used it to help lost souls. Then the owner Reaper shows up because you were supposed to be dead. But since you reaped out many souls, your soul won’t be reaped anymore. You’ll eventually be a reaper.
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"A scythe was a tool, something used to harvest grain and crops. If used correctly, the grain cut would fall into a neat bundle on the ground, easily picked up by the men and women behind those cutting. But in dire circumstances, it could become something else, turning from a tool to a weapon, a heartless thing that could kill invading raiders just as easily as it could cut grain.\n\nIt was from the latter use that such a weapon became associated with reapers, and reapers liked it. They found that a scythe worked well in the cutting of soul bonds, adding longer handles to allow for more dramatic sweeps of the blade. It became a staple weapon for the undead guides, one that struck fear and relief into the souls of the departed. But they were never meant to be wielded by a mortal.\n\nI was merely 22, my full life ahead of me, when I found a scythe lying unattended by my door. I had just moved in to a new house as I started my career, ready to take on the world, and I thought someone from my new office was playing a sick trick on me. After all, my boss was called “the soul stealer” because he demanded we worked long hours. So I picked it up, not even questioning it, until I felt the rush of power course up my arm and stab into my heart.\n\nI screamed. It was a sound that should have woken everyone on my block, but I was already ripped from the mortal world and thrown into the spirit one. Most clogged my vision as tears fell, my scream still continuing, until as suddenly as the pain began, it ended. Slowly, I came to my senses and realized I was on the ground, curled in a ball, the scythe still in my right hand. Except, it wasn’t a hand anymore. My eyes widened as I experimentally moved my arm and hand, the ghastly appendage mirroring what I was telling my arm to do. Where flesh had lain, now only bone remained, the affect only tapering off around my shoulder. I could feel it, how the bones rubbed against the short-sleeves of my polo, and I shivered. It was unnatural, weird, inhuman. And that’s when I heard the first sound call out to me.\n\nIt was a feeble sound, but it drew me towards it like the south side of a magnet to another’s north. I rose, stumbling through the mist, down my street, until I reached where the calls were coming from. A house, covered in ivy, abandoned and rotting. I reached to push open the cracked door, but my left hand passed through it like nothing, and my body followed as I stumbled from the lack of resistance. I didn’t have much time to wonder about that, as the voice still called, weakly, like a child. It was downstairs, the kitchen, or what used to be the kitchen. Now it was home to only ruined linoleum and a rusted cast-iron sink sitting in the middle of the floor, sporting a three foot wide hole in the ceiling. And directly underneath the hole was the body of a teenage boy.\n\nI nearly hurled my breakfast into the already ruined sink. The boy’s legs were twisted unnaturally, neck snapped at 90 degrees, and an arm pinned under his back in a way that shouldn’t have been possible. It was all two clear what had happened: ten foot fall from ceiling to kitchen floor, and glancing through the rotten boards he had fallen through, I saw more broken boards two or three floors above the ground floor. Multiple impacts, maximum damage, and then death. I didn’t want to think about it.\n\n“Help, please!”\n\nThe childlike voice, a sound of terror, sorrow, and pain, came from the slowly pulsing blue orb above the boy’s body. I stared at it, mesmerized by the sight of my first human soul, and instinctively knowing what it was. I could see the cord tethering it to the body, a thin wisp of blue from the heart to the orb, but no matter how the orb pulled on it to get to me, the cord wouldn’t break or budge.\n\n“Please!”\n\nI didn’t know what it was asking, what it needed, but I knew what I had to do. It was as if the scythe in my hands was giving me the knowledge, guiding my body as I raised it, steadied myself, and then swung. The blade cut through the cord like it was thin air, and the spirit immediately shot away from the body like a rocket. It went straight up, back through the holes the body had come from, and then through the ceiling. As it departed, I heard it whisper softly, almost tearfully.\n\n“Thank you.”\n\nI merely nodded.\n\n————————————————————\n\nFor months, I kept what I began to think of as my scythe, traveling between the mortal and soul worlds, reaping souls whenever they called. I began to realize that time didn’t pass for me in the mortal world as I acted in the soul one, and I abused that a little in traveling from place to place on foot. Still, the scythe did have an effect. Every time I used it, my skeletal appearance grew, keeping over my chest, face, and other arm. I looked like a skeleton now, but only in the soul world. In the mortal realm, I was just me, a simple businessman with a knack for his job. It was like that until the day I should have died.\n\nIt was a runaway bus, it careened into the sidewalk near my office building where I was walking to get a coffee from the mom and pop store next door. At least ten people were hit, and everyone else on the bus died when the engine sparked and set the spilled gasoline from the gas tank on fire. I should have died during the initial deaths, should have been hit. Except my scythe, which always hung heavily on my back invisible to mortal eyes, saved me. It dragged me to soul world with milliseconds to spare, and I dodged out of the way. Returning to the mortal world, I did everything to get those still in the bus out, but had to retreat when the gas flared up and the heat became unbearable. I’ll never forget the screams, or having to enter the spirit world and reap their lost souls. That was when I met him.\n\nAnother reaper showed up to help, or maybe they were unaware I was there. Either way, we worked together, cutting the souls away from their bodies, until non remained. Then he looked at me with an odd look in his vacant eyes, his skull-like visage grinning through bleached teeth.\n\n“I see you found my scythe,” he said, the words an odd mixture of clicks of bone on bone and a human voice. “And I can tell you’ve reaped many souls.”\n\n“I have,” was my honest answer, and I realized my voice wasn’t all that different from his. Although my tongue was still present, so my syllables were more smooth than staccato.\n\n“You should be dead,” was the reaper’s next statement. There was no arguing it, just a statement of fact, and I nodded. “You got lucky the scythe took a liking to you. It’s not every day it chooses a new mortal.”\n\n“Chooses?”\n\n“Yes, you’re a chosen. A future reaper. And then one for all eternity until you’re scythe chooses someone new.”\n\n“Then how are you here?” I asked, motioning to his scythe.\n\n“I had a backup,” he replied with a chuckle, his bones rattling with his laughter. “I was chosen twice. I blessing and a curse in a way.”\n\n“And what of me?” The reaper immediately became serious, his dead eyes humorless now.\n\n“You will continue to live your life,” the reaper solemnly said. “When you finally die, your souls will not be reaped. Instead, your scythe will claim it, and you will become a reaper. Then, for all eternity, you will free the souls of the dead, never able to free your own until the next reaper to take your scythe reaps it. That is your curse.”\n\nI don’t remember much after that, but those words still haunt me. Every time I reap a soul, I hear the whispered thanks, I become more and more aware that that will never be me. Or at least, not for millennia to come. I know my time is near now too, my body almost fully skeletal, my movements both in the mortal and soul worlds slower and pained. Age waits for no one, and one day it will claim me, as it does to anyone lucky enough to reach long years. But I’m okay with it. I’m okay with becoming a reaper. For while every thanks reminds me of my fate, it also encourages me, for I know one more soul has been released to its final resting place.\n\nWho knows, maybe one day I will even reap your soul, mortal.",
"A soul trapped to a dead body is an ugly sight.\n\nI stared at the old lady who was hovering above the decaying corpse in flat 58A, Windsor St. She kept shouting.\n\n\"Someone... please, anyone! I've fallen and I can't get up!\"\n\nHer spirit voice sounded hoarse from the shouting, and weak from the hunger. I glanced at the cat near the corpse, who had started nibbling from the body.\n\nI sighed. Reapers are said to have a soft spot for cats. Not me.\n\nThe old lady seemed to finally sense my presence.\n\n\"Young man... please. I think I broke a hip. The phone ran out... as I tried to call...\"\n\nThe spirit started weeping, and her sorrow materialised in damp, leaking from the ceiling. I forced a smile.\n\n\"Don't worry, miss. Everything will be alright.\"\n\nI raised the scythe I'd found, and a familiar sense of power filled me. I honed it to the blade of the scythe. The old lady's ghost had managed to get as far as to the phone on the wall, but of course she had been unable to pick it up. At best there would be static on the phone.\n\n\"Thank you, young man. Thank you.\"\n\nI cut the tie to her decaying body. It became harder to sever the further they'd managed to stray from their place of death, but the old lady's spirit was still easily set free. She smiled as she dissolved into the air.\n\nI resisted the urge to chase the cat away from the body. There was no point now. It seemed to finally notice me, and stared at me. I shook my head and headed back outside.\n\nThe flat no longer creaked, now the old lady's spirit had departed, but mists still cloaked the street outside. I grimaced and looked at my hands. They seemed more bone-like with every use of the scythe. And yet I couldn't resist helping the spirits the scythe made me see.\n\nHow long had it been now, since I found it? Ages, it seemed.\n\nThe first one had been a young girl, hovering above a river.\n\nMy memory was hazy on the encounter, but I recall being struck by the impossibility of it. A young girl, walking the water like Christ reborn. She seemed familiar to me, and called out:\n\n\"Help. I'm drowning.\"\n\nSorrow had filled me, and the scythe had been there, had found its way to my hands somehow. And the mists had been there. Somehow the scythe attracted mist.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" I'd said. \"Everything will be alright.\"\n\nHer spirit had been much harder to set free. She had strayed further from her body, and the soul-line had been strong, stretched taut and almost imperceptible.\n\nI looked up into the mist. A figure was approaching. A hooded figure.\n\n\"So,\" he called. \"It's you.\"\n\nI took a step back. Under the hood, his grin at me had seemed just a bit too wide. Just too pale.\n\n\"I wondered who else had been Reaping.\"\n\nI frowned at him. \"You're a spirit.\" I relaxed slightly. \"I can set you free.\"\n\nThe hooded figure grinned and shook its head. \"It's too late for that. Too late for us both.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\nThe hooded figure produced a scythe of its own, and I caught my breath. Another Reaper. He turned and stared at the setting sun, veiled behind dark clouds and the city skyline. \"I died long ago, and strayed too far. My soul-line is gone.\" He turned to me. \"So is yours. I tried to reach the river in time, when I heard what happened. But you had gone already.\"\n\nI frowned. \"What?\"\n\nThe mist swirled around us, and I caught the faintest glimpse of the skull underneath the hood. The grin of death. \"You dived in after your sister to try to save her. You both drowned. They were unable to find your bodies due to the strong current.\"\n\nI took a step back. The young girl, my first spirit, rose in my memory again. She had seemed so familiar. And I had wanted to help her so badly.\n\n\"That's how the scythe forms, you know,\" the other Reaper said. \"A spirit's will to cut its tie to the mortal life. Yet some spirits desire to stay, despite the pain. Your love for your sister made you stay.\"\n\nI glanced at the scythe in my hand. At the white knuckle-bones.\n\n\"It's regrettable,\" the Reaper said. \"I don't wish my kind of existence on anyone.\"\n\nI looked behind me, for my own soul-line. But I realised the truth quickly. I had strayed too far. I heard something purring, and noticed a pitch-black cat, striding past me. The Reaper opposite me bent down to stroke its back with bony hands.\n\n\"I suggest you find a companion. Our existence can be lonely.\"\n\nI nodded. Not a cat. But a crow, perhaps.\n\nThe Reaper strode past me, and I only noticed now that he hadn't been wearing a classic grim reaper's cloak, but a black hoodie, burned and fraying at the sleeves. Smoke followed him. He patted my shoulder.\n\n\"Be seeing you around.\"\n\nI watched him go, the black cat trailing behind, until both of them turned the corner. Then I also left.\n\nAnd the mist followed.\n\n\\--\n\nr/Writeful_heir"
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[WP] Santa is real, and his existense as a wholesome gift-giver is known to everyone. But at the height of the Cold War, Santa's status as a friend to all has to be questioned.
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"The president slams the dull, standard yellow folder on a glossed table. It makes an astounding thud that echoes through the assembly of confused men in suits.\n\n​\n\n\"Three minutes to midnight, and we haven't made a lick of progress on securing our airspace.\"\n\n​\n\nThe frustration was hard to deny, it was imprinted in JFK's face via a vivid shade of hot pink. No one dared to make a sound - or a movement for the matter, as everyone firmly dedicated their backsides to the seats as the reek of sweat starts to accumulate as a consequence on the cold day. On christmas eve.\n\n​\n\nJFK seemingly pulls out documents from thin air, slamming down more sheets of paper - this time pictures. It was blurry, being taken from a spy plane at the altitude still unknown to the soviets, but as much as the fuming man was furious, he was also confident.\n\n​\n\n\"I would advise you to take a good look at these photos shot by our U-2, over AirBaseControl28 in Russia.\"\n\n​\n\nA simple glance would give you enough information to infer what the soviets are up to. Among the snow on the hard ashfield ground, a unmistakable 'sleigh' sat comfortably in the picture, with people passing along present nonchalantly to load up the infamous gold-red sleigh, with what looks like interesting side boosters in place of certain gold plates with a clear attempt of camouflaging them.\n\n​\n\nThe silence was broken as the first mutter started, hastily followed by others after observing no eruption from JFK.\n\n​\n\nSLAM! He was back in the mood. JFK cleared his throat. There was a clear tone of insomnia and stress underlying his disguised calm voice. \n\n​\n\n\"There won't be ham and pudding tonight for the sake of america, and for the sake of the world, so I say that you take up the phones and call your wives - starting with mine.\"\n\n​\n\nThere was a slight jostle and scramble as the board felt the sweet relief from their sweat soaked cushions, hurriedly making their way to the table of neatly placed phones.\n\n​\n\n\"Tomson Jeffery?\"\n\n​\n\nThe military commander awkwardly and abruptly sprung straight as a stick on the path to the phones, eyes still darted straight ahead to the cream wall as the communications officer bumped from behind him.\n\n​\n\n\"I want air defense at DEFCON 2. Dismissed.\""
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[WP] You are an angel that has been banished from Heaven. You must now roam Earth and become worthy to return to Heaven. The only problem is, you have amnesia. You know you were an angel and that you were banished, but you can’t seem to remember why...
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"Slowly opening the slits of her eyes, still blinking to the rays of light been thrown at from a distant streetlight, Donna push her efforts to the edge to get up. After about ten minutes of staring into the light she has a flashback,\n\n[In the flashback]\n\n\"You cannot be trusted anymore, you have defied us thrice, you are not worthy of this status, GUARDS!!, Pick her up and throw her at a random planet filled with gross severity of mankind\"\n\n\"Say no more\" \n\n....\n\n[Returning to her senses]\n\n(To herself) \" I was an angel!, What the hell went wrong! I need to find where the fuck I am\"\n\nAs she drags herself to the end of the lane, she is greeted by a man, a man so dirty and filled with despair that it seems life has been sucked out of him. She having no clue what people are like on this planet, approaches the man slowly and carefully. \n\n\"Hello young man.\"\n\n\" Huh, ME?\"\n\n\"Yes you Mr..?\"\n\n\"Charles, Charles Dow\"\n\n\"Hello Mr. Dow, my name is Donna, where am I?\"\n\n\"Brooklyn\"\n\n\"Thats weird, I have never heard of a planet named Brooklyn..\"\n\n\"Wait, what? Planet? Umm, ma'am are you alright?\"\n\n\"I am quite alright Mr. Dow, I need to know what is this planet ?\"\n\n(In his head)\" This is probably the girl who escaped the asylum last night, she has a bounty of $10000, I gotta need that money\" \"You are on Earth\"\n\n\"Oh, alright, this means I must have committed a level 8 breach, Damn! What the Fuck was I up to, I would need your help, Mr. Dow\"\n\n\"Sure, I would love to help you ma'am, what was your name again \"\n\n\"My name's Donna and I am an Angel\"\n\n(Cracking up)\" Sure you are Ms. Donna\"\n\n\"I guess I was banished here on Earth probably because of some high level security level breach\"\n\n\"I am sorry about that, I know a place which may help you Ms. Donna\"\n\n\"That would be very kind, I must become worthy again before I am welcomed again in Heaven\"\n\n\"That seems right, come let's go now\"\n\nThey walk for two miles without having any contact whatsoever.\n\nDonna-\" Where is this place we're going to?\"\n\n\"This would help you be worthy again\"\n\n\"Okay, that will be good\"\n\n\"Sure\"\n\nThey walk for another 2 miles and finally come at halt in front of a giant building, with walls of 20 feet and fenced with barbed wires.\n\nDonna- \" You sure we are at the right place?\"\n\n\"Yeah I am sure\"\n\nThey approach the gate and walk towards the reception.\n\nMr. Dow-\" Ahem! I would like to claim the prize of $10000, as I have brought with me the one who escaped\"\n\nReceptionist- \" And where is this lady Sir ?\n\nMr. Dow points at her from a distance while Donna is busy reading the bulletin board.\n\nReceptionist- \" Let me call the security sir and the warden, they would be helpful as I am not sure of her identity, she was kept in the level 8 which is the max security level we have\"\n\nMr. Dow- \"Sure the level 8, yeah.\"\n\nReceptionist makes two calls and within 3 minutes 5 guards and one lady walked up to them.\n\nReceptionist pointing towards Donna-\" There she is, take her in\"\n\nGuards run and grab her. \n\nDonna- I demand you to leave me right away or else you would suffer.\n\nWarden approaches her but it was late, Donna overpowered them and was in mid-air and shooting lasers from her eyes towards them only to injure them.\n\nWarden-\" WAIT! THATS NOT HER!\"\n\nDonna- \" Who her?\"\n\nWarden-\"Emily\"\n\nDonna- \" I am Donna\" \n\nDonna looks at Mr. Dow who is gaping at her, she comes down clicks and warden, guards and receptionist fall to the ground.\n\nMr. Dow- \"I am sorry, I didn't know, please let me go, I AM SORRY\"\n\nDonna-\" Let's get out of here, they would not remember a thing when they'll wake up\"\n\nBoth of them exit the scene.\n\nMr. Dow- I am sorry, but Who are you EXACTLY?\n\nDonna- \"I told you, my name is Donna and I am an Angel, I was banished here from heaven for some breach and I need to be worthy again before I am welcomed there again\"\n\nMr. Dow-\" I am sorry, I didn't believe you before, how can I help you?\"\n\nDonna- \" I need to be worthy again, for that I need to make at least one person happy.\"\n\nMr. Dow- \"I am poor, I have no job, let me find one!\"\n\nDonna- \" That would not do it, besides, I have limited to power,just to defend myself, I cannot provide you with money or anything else, besides material happiness would not suffice my worthiness, it needs to be more energetic and divine. Tell me Mr. Dow, what else do you desire?\"\n\nMr. Dow- \" Umm, this is weird but for a very long time, I had no contact with a female, I have been longing some female companionship..\"\n\nDonna-\"I don't really understand what you mean Mr. Dow.\"\n\nMr. Dow-\" I have not had sex in a while, and I have been desiring that for a long time now.\"\n\nDonna-\" OH! Umm, well, Let's see, boy this is weird, I have never slept with anyone other than my race, though I have heard people telling me that it is good, the things earth people do, is quite aphrodisiac\"\n\nMr. Dow- \" Aphrodisiac!?, I am sure angels would have sex more elegantly.\"\n\nDonna-\" No, that's the one thing we lack, we have sex quite like monsters, the energy that is released while having sex makes us violent.\"\n\nMr. Dow-\" Well, that's weird\"\n\nDonna- \"But I gotta, get out of here and I think having sex with you and providing you with utmost pleasure and happiness would make me worthy again.\"\n\nMr. Dow- \" I am sure of that.\"\n\nDonna starts stripping.\n\nMr. Dow-\" No,no,no not.here\"\n\nDonna - \" Okay, where?\"\n\nMr. Dow- \"I know a place\"\n\nThey walk up to a cheap motel and take a room. For and hour they make love and after that Donna sings a spell with weird hand gestures and a light appears from the sky and takes her.\n\n\n{This is the first time I have written something, please excuse for any mistake and I am open for suggestions which would help me write better, given English is not my primary language}"
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[WP] After you became a god, eons later your universe ended, and only you remained. When the new universe began, you figured you'd help shape it into something better than the one you left behind. But you never met any other gods, and you're going to have to learn by doing.
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"First there was something. Then there was nothing. Then there was something again.\n\nThat first universe was surely a practice round for me, as evidenced by the new one. Hooray for me. Okay, no problem, let's just start with something simple this time... big bang! Right, almost forgot... done. Alright, total energy is at its peak, all matter that will ever be has been dispersed, and time begins, clock is officially running.\n\nOkay, let that initial cloud of gas separate into more clouds, let those start separating, more separating, clouds become spinning rings of cloud become tiny tiny specks. Sooo many of them. Good god, which is me, a good god, I'm totally nailing it this time. Boo yeah. Taking it nice and slow.\n\nI think... yeah, life totally just started on one of those specks, lets take a closer look... yep, that's life alright. Tiny tiny life, only other thing that thinks, well, that will think anyway. Kinda boring. Okay, speeding up... there we are, got those first brains. Still pretty boring, speeding ahead... duh duh duh duuuuuuh annnnnnnnnd... stop the clock. Okay where are we in evolution now? lets see, hairless apes, walking around, killing all the whales, yep those are humans alright. That there be humans... god they're revolting, just look at that one, motherfucker you cheat on your cancer-ridden wife then blame the kid for driving you two apart? Think that shit is gonna fly when big momma god is here? No siree, this time I'm totally gonna be around to stop all the injustice...wait what year is it? How long ago did they nail that guy to some wood for saying to love each other? (They do it every cycle, jeez, humans) Did I miss it? Shit, I missed that whole holocaust thing! I always forget to be around for that! Fuck! Nope. Not doing this one, do-over, total do-over. Alright lets just throw in an early supernova. Yeah, you know what? fuck it, whole universe, lets just have heat-death come early this time, all stars go supernova and expend all energy left in the universe as heat please, cool. Alright, now to just sit back and wait for the next round. Totally gonna nail it this time."
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[WP]You better not shout, pout or cry, and I'll tell you why: Santa Claus is coming to town, and he can smell your fear.
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"All the old man ever did was drink too much and thrash me with his belt. And that was on a good day. On bad days, it was worse. so much worse.\n\nIt was Christmas. Well, it was supposed to be Christmas, anyway. All Christmas is in my house is another day, another beating, another long night spent in fear. After it happens to you enough times, you start to think- this is just the way it is. I deserve this.\n\nThat's just how life is.\n\nAll the other kids got excited for Christmas. They'd come to school talking about their new video games and toys. Not me. We didn't have games and toys.\n\nThat's just how life is.\n\nOther kids played sports, did all these cool things, went on vacations. A lot of them had phones and talked to their friends all the time. Not me, I wasn't allowed to have friends, or a phone, or play sports. I barely was allowed to raise my eyes from the floor. Any challenge to his authority, even with a gaze, was met with severe punishment.\n\nThat's just how life is.\n\nThe last time I saw my father was that Christmas Eve. I was hiding under my bed because the old man was on a rampage. He'd just finished whipping my mom, and had settled in for another night with his god-damned bottle. I was quaking in fear because I just knew at any moment, I would be next.\n\nI didn't know the Christmas rules. No one ever told me I was supposed to be asleep.\n\nI had been hiding under there for a long time. Too long. I really needed to go to the bathroom but I was scared to even let him see me. But if I peed on the floor, he'd probably beat me and lock me in the closet again, and I might not ever get out. So I took a chance and tried to sneak to the restroom. But it was no use. He saw me.\n\n\"C'mere boy!\" he bellowed, half slurring. Knowing that I had no choice, I meekly walked to him. He was shirtless in his chair, a pile of empty beer cans around him. I could hardly meet his eyes.\n\n\"Sir?\"\n\n\"Here.\" He threw a $20 towards me. \"Run on down to the corner and get me another case.\"\n\n\"Dad...\" I said softly, knowing there was no escape. \"They won't sell to me cause I'm a kid.\"\n\n\"Th'hell did I say?!\" He exploded into motion, and his belt was in his hand already. I flinched and turned away, as I waited for the pain to streak across my back and thighs.\n\nThe belt never hit me. I just heard it slump to the floor, and for the first time in a long, long time, I dared to raise my eyes.\n\nAn impossibly large man, dressed in soot-stained red, held my father off the floor by the throat. He looked just like...\n\n\"You better watch out.\" his voice was deep, thunderous, menacing. For the first time in my life, I saw fear enter my old man's eyes. \"And you better not cry.\"\n\nMy father tried to say something that might have been curse words, but it came out as a strangled gurgle. Choking, he slapped ineffectually at the large man's arms. His swings got weaker and slower as his oxygen supply dwindled, and his eyes slipped to a close. Then, he was released and collapsed to the dirty floor with a loud thump - unconscious.\n\n\"A piece of coal is not enough for a... being... like you.\" The man in red rumbled. \"I have something more special for you. A lifetime, in my coal mine.\"\n\nThen he crouched down next to me and smiled, a impossibly warm smile, and somehow I knew, I had nothing to dread.\n\n\"I've never gotten a letter from you.\" He said.\n\n\"I... I know.\"\n\n\"It's okay.\"\n\nHe reached into his large red sack and removed a small box, rapped with a delicate bow. \"Here.\" He placed the box in my hand. \"Things will be better, young man. You and your mother take care of each other. Merry Christmas.\"\n\nI gazed at the box in wonder. I'd never gotten a real Christmas gift before. It was the most beautiful thing I'd seen in my life. \"T...thank you\" I managed to stammer, and looked up.\n\nHe, and my father, were gone.\n\nI knew I couldn't possibly explain this in the morning when mom awoke. I didn't even know where, or how to begin. But I believed him when he told me things would be alright. Somehow, I just knew that he was right.\n\nFumbling with the paper, I opened the gift that he gave me.\n\nIt was what I always wanted."
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[WP] "My child's still in there!" cries the woman as your partner holds her back from running into the burning house. You know it's too dangerous to go in, but your body moves before you think. You enter the house. The child's nowhere to be found, but there's a pentagram drawn on their bedroom floor
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"With the mother screams fresh in my ears, I rushed into the burning house dousing flames as I went.\n\n“KEVIN” I bellow through my respirator as I make my way through the inferno. I search the house and found nothing till the floor collapsed beneath my feet. I struggle to stand among the debris when I see a pentagram on the basement floor.\n\n“What the fuck?” I question before the the roof begins to creak and crack. I lunge forward to avoid the collapse.\nI fall\n\nI fall far more than I could ever imagine. I land in a heap on solid ground that reeks of brimstone. I look up and see a visage of hell roaring. I pick myself up and crawl to the nearest rock to escape its sight. New company was found with a skeleton clad in green armor. With a double barrel shotgun across the skeleton’s lap. I grab it and the shells before rising up to face the avatar of hell.\n\n“KEVIN!!!” I yell as I fire both shells into the demon while heavy metal begins to play.\nThe Katy Volunteer Fire Department never quits\n\n\nFirst time ever responding to a WP. Also on mobile. Criticism welcomed \n\nEdit: realized how to break up the paragraphs ",
"I entered the charred black house. The outside was ghost-white, a stark contrast to the blackening interior.\n\nI hurled myself into the pit of the roiling beast, desperately searching for an innocent woman's child.\n\nChecked the bathroom. Nothing. Checked the Bedrooms. Nothing. I thought I heard a cry in the kitchen. There I saw it.\n\nA giant bloody pentagram, covering the beige tiled floor. Blood covered the counter tops, the refrigerator... even the sink was pooled with it.\n\nI slipped on a puddle of the red soupy pools, and gripped my chest. Where was he? She said he would be in here. *Shit, what was his name? Chester? Chad?*.\n\n\"Is anybody here?\"\n\nI walked up to the kitchen window, which gave a dark view of an ashen back yard. Dry gray specks were drifting out into plain view, turning this building into a ruin.\n\nI couldn't breathe, but I couldn't leave either. I'd committed myself. I wasn't leaving without the child.\n\n*Charles!*. That was the name!\n\n\"Charles! Are you in here?\" \n\nI tried to put the enormous bloody pentagram out of my mind, but it haunted my subconscious. \n\nI moved toward the back of the home. Fire was licking at my legs, and an antique print of a flower was burning. *A burning bush*, I thought.\n\nI hesitated, then started to climb the staircase. *Smoke rises. Shit*.\n\nMy throat was clogged with ash and heat. I could feel it constricting.\n\n\"Charles!\" I searched the hallway that seemed to melt around me. I wondered if I was becoming delirious. I was a man obsessed. \n\nI pushed on a door to what I assumed was a bedroom. It creaked and bellowed.\n\nInside was a bed on fire. I could see the form of a human in the back corner. He stepped forward. He was holding a little nine year old boy in his arms. \n\n\"Put him down.\"\n\n\"Not a good idea is it? To lay a child on a burning bed?\" the man said.\n\n\"Give him to me. His mother is dying over this.\"\n\n\"Isn't that a shame. We all die, don't we?\"\n\nI felt I was going mad. Rage filled me to the brim. I was losing patience. And oxygen.\n\nI could no longer speak. I was blacking out. I stumbled forward.\n\nI fell to the ground. Nobody heard me scream. I wasn't sure if I had died as I fell through the floor.\n\nI woke up on the living room floor, downstairs. A hole was on the ceiling above. The hole I had fallen though God knows how long ago. \n\nI could breath a bit more down here, but I was still resolute about finding this damn kid. The man looked insane. He had a gothic clothing. All black, with a pale face and nose ring. The type of ring a bull might wear in it's snout.\n\nI looked up again. The gothic man was staring down at me. He gave a hidden smile. A smile I *felt*, but didn't see.\n\nI reached my hand skyward, hoping to grab hold of the child in his arms. \n\nThen he was gone. \n\nI went back to the kitchen. Not the kid's blood. Thank God.\n\nThere's no way anybody upstairs would still be alive.\n\nI went outside to get a breath of clean air. The mother was despondent. \n\n\"A man just climbed down the side of the house, from my bedroom. He was terrifying. I froze. There's nothing I could do.\" She wailed and screamed, and I took off running in the direction she pointed.\n\nI ran and ran, down the dirt path. It led to a clearing, and beyond me was a rickety wooden fence. Bloody footsteps lead to a dilapidated barn in the distance.\n\nI followed with caution, eager but terrified at the same time. I heard a great number of people in the distance, and a cacophony of heavy metal music. It grew louder and louder as I approached.\n\nThe barn was a rough red. Barn red, it was called. Seemed appropriate. I often became distracted by architectural design, but this left a dull, bitter taste in my mouth. \n\nI didn't want to see what was awaiting in the barn. It was dark, but light glowed from within. The heavy metal was loud. Jarring.\n\nI went up to a slitted opening in the wall. Twisted nails stuck out through the aperture.\n\nI could see a small slice of the interior. Ten people, all male, were huddled in a circle. Around something. I saw a nine year old boy in the center.\n\nI could barely make out what they were chanting. It sounded like they were praying to the boy. A twisted joke of Satanism? A cult perhaps?\n\nWhatever they were, I could deduce that they were clinically insane... or just confused. \n\nOne man in a black cape stood above all the others, holding a long sharp saber. He said something I couldn't completely make out, but I heard the phrase \"virgin sacrifice\".\n\nI knew I had to act. I'd already come this far.\n\n\"Step away now, or there will ten sacrifices tonight!\" I yelled.\n\nThey twisted their gaze toward me, and gave a ten-fold smile.\n\n\"We have an audience tonight,\" the head Satanist said.\n\nI tightened my fists. I was outnumbered ten-to-one.\n\nThen the boy spoke. \"Let him go. Keep me, but let the man go,\" the child muttered.\n\n\"The child has spoken. You may go on your way. Forget everything you've seen,\" said the head Satanist.\n\nThe music was so loud I only heard the word \"go\". The last thing I would do tonight.\n\n\"No,\" I said.\n\nThe Satanists all looked at the boy in unison. The boy said something to them that I could not hear, but they all nodded in recognition.\n\nThe boy walked over to me. \"Mister, these men are crazy. What do I do?\"\n\nI told him to calmly tell them he needed to talk to me. Alone. They nodded, and I pulled him behind the barn door.\n\nI touched his shoulders.\n\n\"Are you hurt?\"\n\n\"My throat hurts. It hurts to breathe.\"\n\n\"That's the smoke.\" I was terrified he might suffer a heart attack, or worse. The combination of stress and carbon monoxide could have that effect.\n\n\"I'll offer myself. Then you can run away, and never look back,\" I said.\n\n\"No mister, I'm not leaving you.\"\n\nI sighed, and took stock of the situation. We couldn't possibly outrun them by foot. Unless...\n\nI picked him up, and sprinted away from the barn. The gothic Satanists apparently didn't see us leave until we were hopping the wrecked fence. \n\nThey wailed and hollered, running in pursuit. *Thank God I've spent countless hours running the treadmill*, I thought. I knew I couldn't return to the house. That would be expected.\n\nWe took refuge behind an oversized oak tree. We saw them pass, then doubled back toward the barn. They wouldn't be doing this again.\n\nI slipped my lighter out of my pocket, and ignited a handful of dry straw. I lit the barn ablaze, and ran with Charles in my arms.\n\nWe ran like prize horses through the meadows and fields, stopping only to catch our breaths. We could see a barn blazing on the horizon, but wouldn't stop for God himself.\n\n***\n\nThe following day, I got into contact with the police, and Charles' mother, in that order. They took Charles into custody, and released him to his mother.\n\nI didn't receive any accolades, for I didn't desire any attention. I left Charles off at the police station, then drove off, away from town. Away from the twisted hordes of demented cults.\n\n\"So that's why I'm here today, doc.\"\n\nThe doctor asked me how I felt. He was scribbling on his pad, ready to prescribe another anti-anxiety prescription.\n\n\"I feel good. But my throat's a bit dry.\""
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[WP] Time was never linear, our brains just make it seem that way for convenience. You learnt that after an unfortunate head injury damaged the section of your brain responsible for making time make sense.
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"I was walking down a busy street of a city. It was cold, and I was young again, which was nice. I wondered what was going to happen this time. I looked through the crowd and didn't recognize any faces. I looked at the buildings, New York. Ok. That's a start, and, where am I going? I am on the sidewalk, and my feet are facing one direction. So, it seemed the logical direction to go. \n\n \"In 50 feet, turn right.\" a voice said in my ear. It was Siri! Oh man, how that voice brought me back. I still had my iPhone, this was before Apple collapsed! It couldn't be more than six months after the accident. I bet I was headed for the neurology clinic where I had spent so much time right after the accident. A quick look at my iPhone confirmed it. It had been so long since I had been back here. Excitement started to build in me, I wondered why I was here. I hadn't come back this far in time for so long. There must be some important decision to make.\n\n That's what time really was you see. Decisions and consequences in a long chain for as long as you are alive. Once you make a big decision, you flow down the consequences all at once like an avalanche until your at the bottom of that hill. Then, you have to make the next decision and flow down its consequences. Problem is that your next decision thrums back through all the time you spend on the last decision, and all that time adjusts to fit. It's a bit like tuning forks matching each other in an empty room. The problem is that everyone else doesn't see it that way. They mash all their decisions together and splice them in so they don't have to hear the tuning part. They just hear the whole final product, all the overtones and undertones, the harmonies and the discordance without ever really seeing where it comes from. The live their lives listening to the time radio while I can see the whole sound board. The problem is I have to go through it all track by track and hope I don't muck it all up.\n\n I feel so sorry for my whole family. I had made a decision to drive home from the bar and was in that consequence flow when the accident happened. That was the first flow I had to live through. Most of it confused and in hospital beds surrounded by faces I didn't recognize or aged beyond belief. I cried so often, and there were so many different doctors. I hadn't understood then. I went horrified and terrified about how much of my life I had lost when I finally died. Then, I was back and young again. I was so confused to be staring at an old professor about my math scores. I thought I had just had some dream, and my confusion startled the aged teacher. He told me to take some time to think about how much I wanted to consider pursuing his classes. I didn't have to think much at all. I knew how much I would need the best medical care, and I promised to redouble my efforts. I did and I was soon in my career flow. That was actually pretty easy. I flowed from studying to testing instantly, from hearing advice from my professors to a job interview seamlessly. I didn't even need to sleep much. I would just flow solidly from work day to work day devoted to projects. It was a little hard not having answers to questions like, \"how's the kids?\" or \"why are you late?\" but my co-workers soon seemed to realize my limitations and just accepted my weird memory. It was always a little weird to me how much more they seemed to know about my life than me. I finished my career with so many awards and accomplishments, and I'm still proud about it. However, that flow ended with my retirement and it was the next one that was the most important.\n\n I was brought back to a conversation with my boss about my condition. I was trying to explain to him how time really was, but it didn't work. I decided that I needed to write a book so people would understand. That flow gave me the time to really think about things, and, for me to understand what I was really going through. After that, the other flows had been so much easier to handle.\n\n I really wasn't sure how many decisions I had left to flow through. There couldn't be too many hills left to climb, but here I was in New York again. This was even before college. I took a moment to close my eyes and listen to the thrum of my memories. Sometimes, I could feel the things that were missing. Especially, as I moved through more flows, I could feel how the decisions I made or didn't were tuning everything else I remembered. The memories felt weird this time, expectant, like the thrum of this decision or its lack was making all my other memories waver. I started to get nervous.\n\n Most of the time, when a decision came it was obvious and right in front of me. What decision was there in walking to therapy? I kept my feet walking and turned again as my phone directed me as I tried to pour through my other memories. I was hoping for some hint or some sign of what I had to choose. Then, I felt it like a jerk on my spine. All my memories seemed to shift and take darken. Whole conversations that I previously had seemed to crash into me, the words garbling and changing, the memories trying to tune. I had never felt a thrum so powerful before. I felt like whole parts of other flows were darkening or becoming painful to remember. I tried to keep my feet below me, but I staggered. My hand made contact with someone's wrist and I hung on like a drunken sailor. I must have pulled hard because I heard a sharp cry from where I had grabbed.\n\n I felt another hand grab mine to try and force me to let go with a string of curses. I mumbled an apology, but I couldn't let go. Whole lifetimes were throbbing in wildly shifting memories. Time was warbling wildly inside my head and I continued to lurch. \"Let go you creep!\" the struggling voice shouted at me.\n\n \"I'm sorry.\" a muttered again pitifully, but something about the voice seemed familiar. I looked up, and the face was familiar too. She stopped struggling.\n\n-- Had to split for size --",
"“Okay team, we have the better half of a minute left and we only need three points to make it to the finals. If we can pull this off, it’ll be the best the Dials have ever done. So Pete I’m putting you in to finish them off.” My eyes shot up as my name was called, “Daniels you keep your eyes on number 24 over there, and Martinez if you don’t get your head out of your ass and keep the ball on the right side of the court I’ll bean you. Alright, break on three. 1-2-3.. “\n\nThe mightiest roar a group of thirteen year olds could muster ripped from the sidelines as we watched the opposing team make their way back to the court. Coach Troy isn’t always the most inspiring, but being this close to victory after the season we had, and against the best team in the conference? It was easy to feel good.\n\nThe ref blew his whistle and the other team had the ball. Number 5 was going down the middle with a purpose. He fakes out Martinez and attempts a three, the ball rebounds and number 24 is about to grab it when Daniels grabs it just in time. He’s going down the sideline and passes to my best friend Reggie. Reggie passes the ball between number 69’s legs and I receive it, going for the layup and - SMACK!\n\n\\*\n\nI wake up in a groggy haze, my head is throbbing and my throat feels like I drank napalm. I reach over to turn my lamp on and realize it’s not there. My eyes scan the darkness but don’t make anything out. The clock reads 3:02am, the last thing I remember was playing basketball but why does that feel so long ago. I rub my face and notice it’s much coarser than yesterday, maybe I’m going through puberty. I get up to take a pee after finding the bathroom, then the bed welcomes back my inebriated state and I drift off while wondering why my bed is so much harder than I remember.\n\n\\*\n\n“PETER!” \n\nMy head snaps up with a piece of paper stuck to my forehead. I’m at a desk in what appears to be a lackluster cubicle. *Where the hell am-*\n\n“I heard you snoring all the way from my office you lazy bum, we have corporate coming in today and I can’t have you slacking as usual.”\n\n“Who -”\n\n“Not now, get to work”\n\nThe mysterious man walks away. In his wake, the noise of phones ringing, paper shuffling, and a sneeze. I haven’t been this confused since my Algebra quiz last Tuesday, speaking of, what day is it? I glance at the calendar on the desk and there is a red X in each square up until the 17th, which is a Thursday. I guess that makes sense. I’m staring at the calendar trying to gather my bearings and notice something… it’s August? I swear I was just playing in the semi-finals and those are in February. I notice the year. 2026?!? \n\nMy heart is in my throat and I sprint towards the exit sign. I rush down some stairs, through a lobby, crash through a front door and find myself on a bustling street. Spots fill my eyes as I crash to the ground.\n\n\\*\n\nSirens are wailing and lights are pouring in through my eyelids. \n\n“Hey sport, thank god you’re awake, can you hear me? How many fingers am I holding up?”\n\n“Jesus Christ Steve, leave the kid alone, he’s conscious, lets get him out of this ambulance.” \n\nTwo paramedics take the stretcher I’m laying on and wheel me into a hallway with sickly white lights. I hear my parents catching up behind me as I’m brought to a room. I am too stunned to say anything as the doctor performs a series of tests on me. \n\n“Can you speak boy?”\n\n“Y-ye-yeah? I think so?”\n\n“Alright, you seem to be cognitive. That is a relief, you took quite the spill when that kid tackled you, hit your head on the ground.”\n\nHe leaves the room and I notice I’m wearing my jersey. Was all of that a dream? I can hear the doctor talking to my parents outside the door. \n\n“The CT scan showed a bruise on a small section of the temporal lobe. He doesn’t seem to be showing any symptoms but I think we should keep him here overnight. No sign of a concussion but things like these can be unpredictable.”\n\nA bruise sounds pretty serious, maybe that’s why I had such a life-like dream. He says I’m okay though so I’ll try not to worry. \n\nMy parents come in and we talk until it’s time for bed. My dad sleeps in the chair while my mom goes home to take care of the pets. I close my eyes, thankful to know where I am.\n\n\\*\n\nTwo shrieking voices wake me up as two small bodies launch onto me.\n\n“DAD DAD DAD! SANTA CAME!”\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\n​\n\n​\n\nThis was my first writing prompt, let me know what you think!!"
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My first posts here. Hello.
How do i put tags?
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[WP] You wake up and hear the dog yelling at the cat - “Martha! Have you fed the human yet?”
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"My 5am alarm broke through my slumber and I groggily tossed and turned in the bed, unwilling to take the first real steps of waking for the day. I knew I must though and eventually hauled myself up and pattered to the bathroom. My morning routine was the same every day: pee, then downstairs for breakfast and to feed the Martha my cat and Rose the dog. Then it would be back upstairs for teethbrushing and clothes before a nice long walk with Rose. \n\n\"Martha! Have you fed the human yet?\" \nI froze. The voice came from downstairs. Had someone broken in? I slowly tip-toed to the landing and peered over the banister and down the stairs. No one there. \n\"No, he's not up yet. I'll go and wake him.\" \nA second voice. I quickly looked around me for something to use as a weapon. The best I could do was a belt that was hanging over the bannister. I grasped it tightly in my right hand and steeled myself. Slowly, slowly, to avoid the creaky steps, I made my way down the stairs. \n\nI reached the bottom step and well, there was nothing. Not a person in sight. I could see the whole lower floor of my tiny house and it was just as I had left it. Dirty dishes on the side board, blanket thrown on the floor im the lounge area, and the pets pacing in the kitchen as they did every morning. \nI shook my head. I must be hearing things, losing my mind. I walked into the kitchen and took a cup from the cupboard. \n\"Ah, he's up.\" \nI span on the spot. Clutching the side board in fright. There wasn't a speaker. \n\"He's a bit skittish though, what's up with him today?\" \n\"Yeah. Where's my morning head pats?\"\n\"Oh, you and your head pats!\" \nConfused, I peered at the animals. Opening their little mouths and WORDS were coming out. Gone were the mewlings, the meows, and the big bellowing woofs. \nI stared for a second. Opening and closing my mouth like a goldfish. My throat was dry, words refused to form. This surely couldn't be real? \n\"Is he okay?\" Martha said, slinking up towards me. \nI took a step backwards to get away from the fluffy black cat. \n\"You....you can talk?\" I sputtered. Except, I didn't. From my mouth came the sound of a terrified ape. \n\n"
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[WP] The weathered, dying man places the worn six-gun in your tired hands, the metal glowing softly in the midnight air. "Its yours now," he says as he coughs up blood. "It'll take you far in this blasted wasteland. It was always yours to begin with."
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"The pistol was of beautiful build. It was a relic of the before times, before the war, before the rebirth and before the fires. Humanity had wiped itself out with a virus lost to history, a terrible concoction of death dreamed up in a sick creature of a humans warped mind. \n\n nature had reasserted her dominance over the earth and it was a lush paradise, the survivors of the great purge had left their bunkers after a period of 25 years. The plants had grown over the old world and animals had taken to their traditional ways of life. \n\nHowever as humans always do they destroyed this new garden of eden, petty wars and wanton destruction led to the final death of this new paradise.\n\nThe pistol was a symbol of the old world, its laws, its fairness, its good. The pistol itself was a worn mix of brushed silver ironworks and walnut handle. Time had only made it more beautiful. \n\nAs the survivor mounted his horse leaving the old man to die he looked back along the dusty road he had traversed and towards the evergreen north that had shielded nature from man with her impassablity. The survivor plodded along on his faithful steed, towards the cold north. A place of safety but of incredible danger. \n\nHe adjusted his cap and holstered the pistol and readied himself for what lay ahead. ",
"I remember this day like it was yesterday. A middle-aged man thrusting his revolver into my hands. Coughing up blood from the fresh gunshot to his belly. It felt so long ago on that full-mooned night some 20 years past. A bunch of raiders came to my farmstead too, killed my ma and pa. They were fixing to kill me too. \n\nBut this kid. I don’t know why but, I couldn’t let that bandit O’Malley kill him in cold blood. It ain’t right, and I guess I’m just returning the favour. Some stranger saved me when I was about this kid’s age. \n\nAt least he has a gun now. Something to protect himself with if they come back. Gonna miss that gun. Had some weird writing on it too. “iterum terminat futura praeteritis”... whatever that means. Some fella in town said it was Latin. At least it got me out of some jams, it’s gonna help this kid too. I feel it. \n\n“Stay safe kid,” I say through gritted teeth, “They’ll be comin back ‘for sunrise. You best take that six-shooter and be on your way.”\n\nThe kids hesitating. Must be the shock setting in. \n“What’s your name kid?” I ask, feeling the warm blood lol around my back. \n\n“It’s James sir,” he replies back.\n\n“Well, James, you get that horse and you ride to the nearest town. Don’t look back.”\n\nThat seemed to work. The kid finally gets his horse and leaves this hellhole, the hoof beats providing comfort in knowing he’s on his way.\n\n“That’s a good name kid,” I whisper to myself, feeling the strength leaving my body “They call me Jim too...”\n\nPS: Long-time lurker, First time poster. I don’t know how this works so hopefully I did it right :/ I love reading all the little stories on this sub so thought I’d take a crack :)",
"I take the weapon and examine it under the soft moonlight glow. As I peer down the barrel a fresh breeze wipes the stale smells of my face. The night is cold and clear. If I set off now I can make good progress, but I can't... Not just yet.\n\n\"It's yours now,\" says the old timer. His voice is shallow now and I have to strain to listen,\"it'll take you far in this god-forsaken wasteland...\"\n\n\"But I can't... I thought this was an heirloom... How could I possibly take it? \"\n\nHe shows a toothless grin, \"it was always yours to begin with.\"\n\n\"W-What do yo—\"\n\n\"I should have told you sooner... I wanted to, believe me,\" he paused, taking a moment to catch his breath, \"it's not easy raising a kid in a world like this.\"\n\n\"Jesus...\"\n\nI stand back and light a cigarette. There's a certain beauty to be found on nights like this, where the moon hangs in the horizon and casts its iridescent glow across the land. For some reason I take solace in the fact that nature continues to march on with or without us. It's one of the few constants in this blasted world.\n\nI throw the cigarette over my shoulder and we both share a knowing look. He lies deathly still for moment, then finally turns to me once more, \"I've lost count of the number of people who want me dead... or worse. It was better off this way...\"\n\nI kneel down beside him and lift a flask to his lips. He takes a long gulp and collapses against the rock, beads of sweat rolling down his neck. Turning to me once again he blinks, as if forcing himself to stay awake. \n\n\"I—\" He opens his mouth to speak as if rolling the words around on his tongue. but we both know that there's no need for any more words. Instead he merely looks at me, a smile playing on his lips as he begins to drift away.\n\n***\n\nI strap the pistol to my holster and pull my scarf closer for warmth. The wind whispers through the branches and I take a moment to collect myself, a chill creeping into my jacket. There's no time to bury the old man, but I pray that wherever he is, he's at peace now. There's no reason to hang around any longer — there would be time to mourn later and after all, he would have wanted me to keep moving on. \n\nThe beginnings of dawn creep over the horizon and I begin to set off. That's right, *I have to keep moving*."
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[WP] Everyone is born with an accompanying spirit. Each have unique powers that grow in strength. Some grow in the presence of plants, fire or water etc, but yours has always been weak (this earns you disdain from your peers). One day you're attending a funeral when you notice it has grown slightly.
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"Funerals.\n\n\nI hadn't been to one before. I stood in the back, watching people talk and try to help each other mourn. I didn't feel sad though. I don't even know why I'm here. I never knew my aunt. But my mother did. And my parents didn't realize that I wouldn't remember, too lost in their mourning. My accompanying spirit, a black serpent, sat wrapped around my neck, kind of like a scarf. She seemed to shift as I walked closer to my parents. \n\nCloser to the coffin. \n\nI felt a sort of dark energy crawling in my veins, and the weight on my chest increased. I blinked once, twice, before looking at the coffin. It was surrounded by some sort of black flowers, and in the casket, my aunt laid, looking asleep. All signs of death well hidden. \n\nI felt that energy again, but this time I nervously walked toward my mom. \"Can I go outside? I'm feeling a bit nauseous...\" \n\n\n\"Of course dear.\" She must have thought that the funeral was making me sick, or maybe that I was getting nervous due to being at a funeral for the first time. Not technically wrong. Her spirit however, a dark dog gave me and my spirit a suspicious look.\n\nI walked outside through the back door. \"What happened in there Chyr?\" \n\nThe serpent uncoiled from my neck and slithered onto my arm. \"That funeral casket, it was powering us!\"\n\n\"What?Are you saying...?\"\n\n\"Yes Reina. Death and it's symbols are where our power comes from.\"\n\n\"Oh my god. How am I supposed to process this information?! What do we even do with it? Powers like these could cause so many problems for us!\"\n\n\"I dunno what to do.\"\n\n\"Very helpful.\" I rolled my eyes.\n\n\"For the time being, can we go back in? I want to be a bit stronger...\" \n\n\"Just don't be a little shit.\"\n\n\"As long as you're not a bigger shit.\" \n\nI gave the ghost of a snicker, but it was gone as fast as it came. Though it was nice to have my one of my usual insult exchanges with Chyr.\n\nThe two of us went back in, and there was something unsaid between us. Whatever happened, we would face it together.\n\nI wonder where this kind of power will take us. \n\n---\n\nI kind of want to turn this into a real story, because it has a lot of potential, but then I'm reminded that I'm too lazy to even try,\n\n \n",
"My friend had just died, his spirit was one of the strongest I’d known. Everyone thought he would be a great leader one day whether it be business or politics. But here he was in his grave his spirit diminishing. But I felt good, in fact I felt great! My friend was dead and I felt great, was I a terrible person? I realized my spirit had grown, the one piece of me that was never there can to me in a time of death and sorrow. I looked in and deep and I saw the mark that lie within. \nI was no longer someone who could be with others in their time of need, because I was their end. I was the cause of my friends death, at his bedside my spirit drained him. While now it drains the sorrow of everyone here. My name is no longer Fred, but it accompanies meaning and truth. My name is now and forever will be grim. I will be there in the end times, I see it now. As I am passed through age to age, as I have always been. No one will ever know, because ignorance is bliss and this world tries to live in bliss dodging truth after truth.\nI walk a lone road now, people still never see my aura as it truly is. They see it as it was before that fateful week, the funeral, the death. I drain them, their last clinging bits of life whether they could fight through it or not I am the vulture and they are my prey. This world is the desert in which I roam desolate, but filled with hope.\nForever shall I walk my lonely road, for I am the only one who can walk it.",
"He was never close to his grandma and going to her funeral was more out of respect for his mom than any real grief. Greg never attended one of these services before, but he was familiar with the tradition. Once a person dies, their spirit wasn’t long for this world. It was the duty of the loved one’s left behind to dismiss the spirit. Free it’s essence from its human bonds so that it may find its own peace. And grandma’s wasn’t an exception to that rule. \n\n\nMom stood from her seat, taking a second to compose herself before approaching the altar. Her own spirit curled around her neck, it’s wind tugging gently at her curls in an act of reassurance. Both human and spirit were necessary. Greg watched their slow march up the stairs, lifting a hand to the tiny, green puff at his own shoulder. It didn’t stop his morbid thoughts of the future, when he would need to face his mom the same way she faced hers. His little speck of a spirit, he loved it so much, but would they be up to a task like this? Greg shook his head, clearing his mind and focusing on the ceremony. It wasn’t the time for self-pity.\n\n\nHer body was laid out on the altar, wearing her best Sunday outfit, hair painstakingly stylized around a painted face. She looked peaceful, with her wrinkles smoothed out and the slight upward turn of her lips. Almost as if she was asleep. With four legs folded beneath it, laying right over her once-beating heart, was her companion of almost nine decades. A simple water spirit, it’s body frozen solid in its time of mourning. Mom stood over the body, extending out a hand to allow her wind spirit to flutter down her finger tips. That was when Greg felt the subtle weight on his shoulder grow heavier.\n\n\nGreg blinked, turning to his little spirit as it leaned over from its perch. It’s white, beady eyes stared straight at the altar. Then he felt its rising excitement. The connection they shared reverberating with an unfamiliar power that soon became overpowering. It beckoned for Greg, urged him to rise from his seat. Gasps followed him as he did as asked, ignoring the rumbling of the crowded church as he joined his mom on the altar. Gently, Greg pushed his mom to the side, ignoring her surprised cries as he stared not at the corpse of his once grandma, but at the spirit that lay in mourning. It was the first time the water spirit moved, turning its faceless head towards Greg in a crackling of ice. He felt his spirit's request, the first the little thing ever made in their entire life together.\n\n\nTaking a step back, Greg lifted his hand, mirroring his mom’s earlier posed as the puff rolled off his shoulder and down his arm. It rested in the palm of his hand, feeling a hundred pounds too heavy compared to its normally feather-like existence. It’s’ excitement grew, reaching out with thousands of thread like limbs. It reached for the water spirit’s head, gluing to its frozen skin. Then it pulsated, the body shaking as it began to grow from Gregg’s palm. He wanted to drop it at first, the sensation too much. Like it was trying to consume his soul. But he remained frozen in place, forced to watch as the water spirit began to melt. Water droplets beaded on its skin, sliding not with gravity, but towards his now massive puffball.\n\n\nThe water slid up the threads, like beads on necklace, before disappearing in its body. An eternity passed, watching his grandma‘s spirit melt, mesmerized as the power he never thought he could experience grew. He didn’t even know why no one thought to intervene, though Greg was grateful. He didn’t want it to stop. This power, it was too much to deny. It filled a hole he had spent his entire life ignoring. All those years being mocked, but look at them now. He and his spirit, finally finding their true purpose.\n\n\nBy the time his spirit finished, there wasn’t even a drop of water left. The green spirit shivered before slumping over, landing with a loud thump on the ground. Then it rose up on unsteady legs, it’s form fluctuating between the puffball it was and the water spirit it consumed. Greg stepped up to it, resting a hand on a close approximation of its forehead and feeling the spirits excitement grow. It took in nine decades of experience and made it its own. Greg could feel it. The memories and the power it brought. Spirits prosper in the presence of their nature. Water for grandma or a windy day for mom. That day Greg discovered the truth of his spirit. It hummed against his hand, already asking him for another opportunity. For the next spirit on the cusp of death.\n\nThe consequences of what they had done loomed over them, their audience ready to pounce for his act of desecration. But Greg didn’t care. His spirit had found its purpose, and now that he had a taste, there was no stopping him.\n",
"Funerals were a very strange procession. They were a look back on a human and their spirit. A time to really reflect on how we are all just as mortal as each other and no single one of us would outlast time. We were all waiting to go. To some, this made people somber. Others hopeful. And one, larger. \n\n\"Ritus, what happened?\" I whispered to him as he continued to slowly increase in size. \n\n\"I... I'm not--,\" he took a moment to take in a full breath, like he'd never breathed before in his life. His figure had lost its pale look and almost began glowing. I stepped out of the room before the people behind me got upset that he was blocking their view. \n\n\"No!!\" he yelled, tugging at my essence to return inside the room.\n\n\"What is it Ritus? Why are you growing? Is it death?\" I asked, a little worried. \n\n\"No, it's mourning. Not just normal sadness or depression, but the mourning of what's lost and could never return. Please master, you must return me inside, I've never felt so good before in my existence,\" he said, tugging harder at me.\n\n\"Hold on, I just want to understand what's ha--\"\n\n\"What's there to understand?\" he yelled, his eyes bulging out of his nebulous figure. \"I need to be in that room.. I need to feel that power! It's draining from me every second we waste out here! Haven't you always wanted a strong spirit?\" He was panicking, and I could feel that he was telling the truth. This surge in mood and power wouldn't last long. \n\n\"Ritus, calm down. It sounds like you're already addicted to your growth energy, and it's not like we can come about it at a moment's notice!\" I hissed, trying to keep our commotion quiet.\n\nHe growled and went from tugging to dragging me back inside the room at full force. I yelped, as Ritus had never contained enough energy to move laundry in my room, but he was carrying me with no problem. He plopped me back in my chair to a few stern glances from the upset audience. Ritus began flexing and humming as his strength began waxing again. \n\n\"Young man, can you please calm your spirit down?\" the man at the podium asked nicely. I was so embarrassed, but Ritus didn't even seem to have noticed. He was three times his size now and growing. Flames began appearing at the tips of his fingers. He grinned a mischievous grin. \n\n\"Young man!\" the man at the podium repeated, a little more worried as Ritus began filling the room. I realized that this display might be causing those in pain to have more feeling of mourning. \n\n\"Not to worry, we were just leaving. Sorry for causing a commotion,\" I said pathetically, standing up to leave. Ritus refused to let me go. \n\n\"So this is the power you've been holding out on me, my master?\" he asked coyly, looking at the full flames in his hands.\n\n\"Ritus, we've done enough, let's go!\" I announced, attempting to take another step. He wouldn't allow it. \n\n\"Young man, get your spirit under control, this is--\" the old man's spirit darted in front of him, and he gasped as he was shielded from a flame from Ritus. \n\n\"What is wrong with you?\" the old man's older spirit cried incredulously.\n\n\"I don't like the old man speaking over me,\" Ritus claimed, looking at the other people and spirits in the room, tempting them to challenge him.\n\n\"Ritus, we're leaving,\" I said again. I still couldn't move. I thought quickly. I had an idea, but it probably wouldn't end well either way.\n\n\"Ritus, you're planning on hurting these people with your newfound power!?\" I exclaimed in mock fear. It wasn't hard to pretend as I was a little scared of this new version of my spirit. \n\nThe room's mood turned from a sour form of sadness to immediate panic and fear. Ritus shrunk down a noticeable degree.\n\n\"What? No, I--\"\n\n\"You told me you were going to hurt these people outside! You said that only their spirits could stop you!\" I yelled more emphatically. \n\nHe shrunk to about half his size.\n\n\"No!\" he panicked. \"Please, master, I know what you're trying to do and I'm sorry! Please just stop while I still have this much--\"\n\n\"Enough power to hurt these people? Is that what you want to be left with?\" I cried. Tears stung at my eyes. I didn't realize it, but this was the first time I had to chastise my spirit. I didn't realize it would be this difficult. A few people in the audience screamed, spirits included. People started running from the room. In the pandemonium, he had become magnitudes smaller, back to his normal self. No one was sad anymore, sole for one thing: Ritus. \n\nHe looked at me with big eyes. They hurt to look at. It was a pain that wouldn't help his power, for it was not the pain of sadness nor mourning the loss of his power, it was a feeling of betrayal from his master, whom he served loyally for years. And in his first chance to be able to do more for his master, he was brought back down to his lowly, pathetic form. But he also felt my betrayal. The loss of trust in my spirit, who went mad with power the moment he was able to gain some.\n\n\"How could you do this to me?\" we asked each other.\n\n________________________________________\n\nFor more stories, come check out /r/Nazer_The_Lazer!"
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[WP] Death is sick of r/WP users exploiting him for their stories and he wants to purge them. Authors desperately write their way out of this.
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"“I’ve called this meeting today for a very important purpose.” \n\nThe cloaked figure spoke with a whispery tone that was both dry and raspy, yet his words carried clearly across the table. The very sound of his voice would have chilled a mortal listener to their core, like the wind of an arctic desert. But his colleagues, who were far from human, were unperturbed. \n\n“You can say that again,” said a handsome and suave-looking fellow in a black suit. “This has all gotten quite out of hand.” \n\n<It’s tiresome.> One creature, a faceless eldritch blob composed of slime, chitin, and tentacles, seemed to speak directly with its thoughts. <Its exploitative. And its unoriginal.> \n\n“We must remember,” said a serene sounding woman whose beauty seemed to literally radiate light throughout the room. “Not to judge them too harshly. Their creativity is limited by what their little minds can produce. We have to show them the error of their ways in a way that does not crush their spirits.”\n\n“Nah,” said the suited man as he casually lit a cigarette...with his finger. “They know what they’re doing. They need some good old-fashioned corrective instruction.” \n\nThe woman eyed the man critically. “And who are you again?”\n\nHe lifted his hands as if he was insulted. “You forgot about me already? I’m the head honcho down below. King of the underworld. The prince of darkness himself? Surely, you’ve heard of me.”\n\nShe cocked an eyebrow. “Then who is that?” She gestured at a large and imposing figure whose red skin was producing smoke like a charcoal grill. \n\nLucifer waved him off dismissively. “That’s just your run-of-the mill generic demon. Poor guy gets used more than a hooker in Thailand.” \n\nThe red beast nodded its head in affirmation. The woman wrinkled her nose. “Language please. And if you would all kindly let Death take the floor.”\n\n“Thank you,” the reaper croaked. “I have made many attempts to negotiate with these...redditors, I believe they are called… but to no avail. They simply will not let us be. I’m afraid we must now take desperate measures.” \n\n<Yes> The blob quivered. <I propose mass extermination of the human race. I assure you the rest of the intergalactic community will not mourn them.>\n\n“Oh hell yeah.” Lucifer applauded. “I like that plan.” \n\nThe woman scowled at him. “We won’t be exterminating anyone.” \n\n“Oh come on, angel” he pleaded. “It’ll save both me and the big guy a whole lot of trouble. I mean he’s done it before, right? And where is he anyway?” \n\nShe pursed her lips. “Occupied.” \n\n“Not too occupied to send you to ensure these peons stop denigrating him with their cheesy ideas, huh?” He chuckled. “Well we’re in agreement. I say bring on the purge.” \n\nDeath raised a hand. “We may not need purge them all…” \n\n“Aww,” the devil pouted. \n\n“I have spoken with my friend, the keeper of Time itself,” Death continued. “He has also grown weary of their manipulations and has agreed to aid us in our efforts. With his help, we may be able to address this problem once in for all.”\n\nThe table listened with curiosity. \n\n“First, I must pay a visit to a Mr. Kinder…” \n",
"I was the first to read about it... Well, hear about it. It was almost impossible to believe, Death himself had made a Reddit account. After checking the facts myself I found the account I assumed to be a legend. At first it just seemed like an average Reddit account. A post history filled with subpar debates against Atheist, bizarre r/askreddit answers, and the other usual suspects. Apparently the account had been around for a good bit, but the new message, that's what has people talking. The most recent comment was a thread on r/offmychest titled \"Feeling Used and Abused\". My heart sobbed a bit, this self proclaimed \"Death\" dude was just feeling hurt. I've been there man. \n\nMy opinions quickly changed after clicking on the thread. Everything seemed normal for a few seconds, and by that I mean for a few seconds my browser froze. After those few seconds shit hit the fan real quick. The page had loaded, and all of the letters with drifting off the screen into the air. Based on the amount of letters soaring off the screen I'd guess the poster had written a short novel. The letters started to form into a humanoid shape... Well... A skeletal shape? Skelatnel? I don't even know. I'll stick with skeletal. The skeletal shape covered in long black cloak and staring down at me. If I had to guess, using a formula to convert text to living creatures, I'd guess the post contained three sequels to Stephen King's \"IT\". The only thing I could manage to get out of my mouth at the time was a surprisingly calm \"Oh\". The skeleton cracked his jaw and made a whining sound. \"For years I've found community amongst your people, and you guys still continue to abuse me. All I wanted to do was enjoy the weeb groups with fandoms dedicated to my animated disciples, and prove the existence of Heaven and Hell through intelligent debate, but what do I get instead you ask? Slavery! I already have to work for both God and the Devil, and now you yolks are forcing me into unnecessary cameos for your stories. Or even worse, you have to kill off so many characters that my hourly pay just simply isn't worth the overworking. Where do you think imaginary characters go when they die?\" He paused and sighed.\"It's just rude, and even though I have not warned you before, frankly I can not hold out long enough for you to change. Tomorrow... Tomorrow I end this. Tomorrow I'm killing every Reddit employee. As far as I'm aware, this should probably kill the website. I'm also a couple billion years old, and it seems we've all learned the problems with elders and technology at some point. Regardless, this is all I have to say. Forgive me, those of you who did not take part in these years of absolute torture.\" He wiped a non existent tear from his eye and waved goodbye.\n\nHe stood still for a few seconds and just simply faded away. I looked at my screen to see a completelt blank post. Seems I still couldn't manage to say anything more than \"Oh.\" For a few moments I sat in shock until I realized what I had to do. Hands on keyboard I began to type \"[WP] In the threat of Death himself deciding to end humanity in an attempt to get an extra long vacation, the r/writingprompts team together in attempt to write stories to kill Death\"."
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[WP] As you walk to your favorite hot dog stand, a woman grabs you. "To break out of the simulation, a sacrifice must be made", she says just before disappearing into the crowd. You can't stop thinking about it, as you convince yourself...what if she's right?
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" Owen sat down on a park bench to enjoy his lunch. He watched strangers walking by while the woman's rant replayed in his mind. \n\n \n\"To break out of the simulation, a sacrifice must be made,\" she said to him, only him. The frantic woman grabbed him by the lapels and stared into his eyes when she spoke, then vanished into the crowd. Owen spent his lunch hour analyzing every detail of as many strangers as he could. He searched for any hints that the woman might be right, but found none. He decided the woman was probably crazy and went back to work. Throughout the rest of the day, and even once he got home, the thought gnawed at the back of his mind. It only stopped when he managed to fall asleep. \n\n \nHe forgot about it by the morning and went about his normal routine. For his lunch hour, he headed for another hot dog. As he approached the vendor the same dark-haired woman stepped out of the crowd, grabbed his lapels and stared into his eyes. \n\n \n\"To break out of the simulation, a sacrifice must be made,\" she repeated, then released him. Owen tried to keep his eye on her, but she vanished into the crowd again. No one else seemed to have heard the woman's strange advice. Owen looked at his phone to check the date. It was definitely the next day. \n\n \n\"*Twice just for me, huh*?\" Owen chuckled to himself. \"Well, this is interesting,\" Owen shrugged and continued his trek for a hotdog. He sat on the same bench and watched the flow of strangers again. This time he noticed it immediately. Though he regularly sat in the park for lunch, he rarely paid attention to what was going on around him. Today he realized all the strangers were the same as the day before. He noticed the same child with the same yellow balloon lose his grip on it again. He noticed the same woman slapping the same creep that grabbed her again like the day before. \"*Neat*.\" He smiled. \n\n \nAfter lunch, he began paying attention at work. Owen worked as a bank teller but hardly ever saw the same person. His transactions for his first hour back at work were all from strangers he'd never seen before. He began to doubt the simulation idea until he noticed an elderly woman being helped by one of his coworkers. Owen did not know the old woman's name, but he knew she visited the bank frequently. Thinking back on it, Owen realized he had seen her every day. He looked around the rest of the bank and recognized several faces that he never paid attention to. \n\n \n\"*Just me*?\" he wondered. All of his clients were new faces, but it seemed his coworkers all helped the same people. He glanced at Susan, the teller helping the old woman. She was wearing her favorite yellow dress. The same one she wore every other Thursday. The dress looked so beautiful on her that Owen noted the first time she wore it and kept an eye out for it again. After a couple of months of paying attention to her wardrobe, he was able to know what day it was by her outfit. He did not think much of it until he looked at it with the simulation idea in mind. \n\n \n\"AHEM,\" a stern voice said in front of him. \"Can you help me?\" Owen realized he spaced out and faced his new customer, a balding, middle-aged man that Owen had never seen before.\n\n \n\"Sorry, Sir.\" Owen apologized and dismissed the simulation idea for the moment to slip back into work mode. That night he fell asleep wondering about the limits of the simulation. In the morning he called in sick to work, then he dressed and drove to the bank. Instead of going in he stayed in his car and watched the doors. No one approached the bank all morning. \n\n \n\"*So it's for me... but it's not aware of me*?\" Owen wondered. He knew if he were working there would be people in the bank. But he also assumed if the simulation kept track of him, it would know he was staring at the bank. At noon he felt a familiar hunger pang. He stepped out of his car to walk to the nearby hot dog stand but decided to try something different instead. He got back into his car and drove to a pizzeria on the other side of town. After parking, he stepped out of his car. The second he closed the door the same woman from the previous two days rushed up to him and grabbed his shirt. \n\n \n\"To break out of the simulation,-\" Owen grabbed her hands off his shirt. \n\n \n\"Not interested, lady,\" he said and shoved her hands aside. He kept walking toward the restaurant, but she ran in front of him again. \n\n \n\"You know?\" She asked. Owen silently walked around her. She reached out and grabbed his shoulder. \"There's a way out!\" she said. Owen shrugged. He reached the entrance to the restaurant and walked in. He was surprised when he heard the woman enter the building behind him. He sat down at a booth and the stranger sat in front of him.\n\n \n\"I can help you escape,\" she said. Owen stared at her.\n\n \n\"And then what?\" he asked\n\n \n\"What?\" she gave him a confused look. \"What do you mean, 'and then what?' You'll be OUT.\" Owen nodded.\n\n \n\"Uhuh. And then what? I have to find another job? Are there even jobs out there? I'm already comfortable here.\"\n\n \n\"But it's not real,\" she stressed. Owen shrugged again but added a smirk. \n\n \n\"What's 'real' anyway? Everything is electrical signals interpreted by the brain. Who's to say you're not still in a simulation out there?\" he asked. \"Besides...,\" his smirk grew into a broad smile. \"...now that I know what I know, I get to find out how everything works. I can set myself up pretty nicely here.\"\n\n \n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #357. 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. ",
">*\"To break out of the simulation, a sacrifice must be made!\"*\n\n*\"A what?\" Maribel yelled out.*\n\nIt was too late, the women had left. \n\nMaribel found this to be amusing, because she knew exactly what the women was talking about. A couple of weeks before, Maribel had the weirdest dream. More like herself, who kept letting her know that her 'reality' was a simulation. Maribel had laughed it off, this couldn't be true. Although, little by little, Maribel started believing. \n\nAs Maribel keeps going through the day, a question keeps appearing in her head. \"Simulation? I'm in a simulation? A sacrifice must be made. A sacrifice? Are you sure?\" \n\nMaribel stared at herself, in the mirror, for a long time. She grabbed a knife, and she smiled. \"What if I am the sacrifice?\" \nMaribel knew her bodies pressure points fairly fast, and knew that the best way to kill someone without being able to save them was through their neck. She sharpened her knife, and stared at herself in the mirror. She didn't have any family, and this life was a stimulation, so no one will ever know right? She decided to have an aide to help her, so she took some mushroom tea. They were the only thing that would help her have a peaceful death. As the mushrooms started to kick in, she finally grabbed the knife. She spoke to mushrooms, and she told them, \"*Don't miss me too much. I enjoyed growing you, and you helped me grow in a sense.*\" She started to tear up. The mushrooms laughed, and they all said in her head, *\"Maribel, don't worry we'll see you soon!\"* As she started looking for her vein in the neck, she tightened the grip on the knife. She then stabbed at the thickest vein she could feel for, and she laid down in peace. Watching her life before her, and thinking to herself. \"This is it. I am ready. I hope the simulation is broken, and everyone can finally be free.\" \n\n\nMaribel was left in her own silence of the world, although, moments later. She woke up. Maribel felt slightly hazed, and questioned. She went to go look in the mirror, and just then someone appeared behind her. It was her! \n\"Maribel?\" Maribel asked. \"you're real. I thought you-\"\n\nHer replica put a finger between her lips to shush her. \"My name is not Maribel, I am Anne. Why did you do it?? You have doomed us all! You being in the simulation, was the only thing keeping us alive! Now you have doomed us.\" \n\n\nMaribel confused, \"But I thought?\" \nAnne rolled her eyes, \"but you thought I was telling you to get out? I came to you in your dreams so you could stay in simulation! Don't you remember?? I told you, that your reality is lie, but you must stay alive for the revolution! They must've erased that part. It doesn't matter now, we must keep going! Let's go.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nMaribel had a new mission to kill and stay alive...\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\nStay tuned for Part II. The Revolution of Maribel! \n\n \n",
"\"*Or*...\" Emma says. \"That lady you met, right? Are you listening? Are you following me?\"\n\nI nod.\n\n\"She could be...\" Two pointer fingers circle around her temple. \n\n\"I know, I know. But what if she's ri-\"\n\n**\"HEY!\"** Emma snaps. Strong eye contact mode activates. The previously paused pointer fingers resume their circular spin, but more furiously this time. \n\n\"Fine,\" I give up, leaning back and closing my eyes.\n\nShe begins to giggle.\n\n\"What's so funny?\"\n\n\"Imagine if we were characters in a Reddit writing prompt right now. This was would be the part where the twist comes in, you know...*I* sacrifice *you*.\" \n\n\"Heh, yeah.\" I chuckle. \"That is pretty funny.\"\n\n\"I know. \" She grins. \"They must be *so* mad right now.\"\n\n"
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[WP] Everybody in society is born with Control of an element of the periodic table. Those who control oxygen and hydrogen have teamed up and now run the world, that is until you, their worst fear, someone with complete control over uranium-235.
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"I stared lazily, watching as the reporter on my TV screen clicked down on a small button, bringing up a map of some desert country I didn't really care about.\n\n\"In other news today the entire country of Afghanistan has been rendered inert and lifeless today thanks to the actions of the United States Elemental Army,\" she said, \"the stocks in oxygen and hydrogen haven't moved too far from the norm.\"\n\nI shut off the TV, enough was enough. I had learned a while back, in a small incident that I had powers far beyond what those losers at the top of the table had. Who needs hydrogen or oxygen when you can have the power of the most destructive atom at your finger tips. Exactly, nobody *needs* that. But what I need doesn't matter anymore. Sure, the president and vice president of this lovely country could just destabilize every molecule of water within the borders, but in my minds eye that's just child's play. They can freeze us all, rule us under a fist of steel but that won't matter in a second. See, right now there are about 1.8 thousand nuclear warheads tucked away in various parts of the United States, that's my max range. Today's my birthday, and I think it's time for some fireworks."
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[WP] You know the brand of each marshmellow you see, and how good they taste, according to you. Your mom/dad was about to put some marshmellows in your hot chocolate when you realise the marshmellow doesn't have a brand, or a value of taste.
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"A lot of people had hidden talents. But mine was more of a superpower. I hadn't told anyone about it because not only was it too hard to believe, but it was quite useless - that is, until this morning.\n\nMy father is known to enjoy a hot chocolate every now and then, and this morning was no exception. He isn't home for much of the year being the Prime Minister and all, but every Christmas morning he always makes sure to have a complete breakfast feast with his normal family in a normal house. As I sat at the kitchen counter watching him prepare his hot chocolate, I noticed that something was very wrong. \n\nOften as a child, my father and I would go camping, and enjoy smores. But not just any smores. Each time, they were made with marshmallows from a different brand. I could never get enough of them. After eating my approximately 5000th smore, I would know the precise taste and brand of the marshmallows used in making them just by look. Eventually there was not a single instance where I was wrong. If I saw a marshmallow brand I didn't know, I would see it as a combination of various brands that I had already tried.\n\nNow back to the hot chocolate in my father's hand. I had noticed that 1 of 3 marshmallows was nothing like anything I had ever seen before. The taste and brand simply wasn't registering in my head, though it looked just like the other two marshmallows. But what could be causing this? Before my father could even take a sip, my curiosity got the better of me. I had gotten up, and plucked the marshmallow from his beverage in order to examine it more carefully.\n\"What's the matter my boy?\" he said with a puzzled expression. \"This marshmallow is nothing like anything I've ever seen before. Is it even real??!?\" I pondered.\n\nMy father had suddenly become extremely alert. After pouring the hot chocolate into the sink along with the marshmallow that was in my hand, he pulled out his executive phone that he kept in his pocket at all times to make a call:\n\n\"Send in the bomb squad immediately, my location has been compromised\"\n\nIt turned out that someone had caught on to my father's habit of celebrating Christmas normally with his family, and his love for hot chocolate. They had placed the bag of highly poisonous marshmallows in the cupboard a whole month ago. My otherwise useless ability had actually managed to save the most important man in the country! \n\nFrom then on I referred to it as a superpower.\n"
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[WP] You have the power to heal any disease but if anyone knows about your power then all those you healed die.
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"It's my third glass of whiskey before I realize I should probably stop. And a further three before I actually do, more out of necessity than anything else. One can't drink when one's bottle has been emptied. Staring at it, crystalline and still just wet enough inside to glisten off the dim lamplight, I curse it. I should be cursing myself, of course. It's been four years since I last had a drink.\n\nOf course, I haven't had much cause to have one, which I'm grateful for. But even when I did, I'd managed to avoid it. My house was devoid of alcohol these days. And, most times, the venues of my sudden drinking urges didn't readily present alcohol to consume. I knew making house calls would get me in trouble one day.\n\nIt had just been sitting there, behind a thin glass window in a cabinet that, thankfully, had nothing but it and a few glasses. Once, I supposed, it had probably had more of its brethren to keep it company. Perhaps the owner of this house had grown tired of the stuff like I had. Or perhaps he was just in between restocks. Whatever it was, at least he only had the one bottle. Any more, and my backward slide might put me well into something I couldn't get back out of.\n\nI didn't rightly know what to do now, addled as I was - another reason I'd stopped drinking. I needed to leave, I knew. No way to ignore that reality, even in the state I was in. But, that would involve getting up. That would involve seeing him. I didn't want to see him. I never wanted to see them.\n\nI reached for the lamp - to turn it off, I think, but I'm not entirely sure to be honest - and watch my hand shake uncontrollably in the air. Was that the alcohol? The flood of a suddenly sated addiction? Or was it fear? I didn't think so. I don't think I feared what may come from this anymore.\n\nWhen I had discovered my ability, all those years ago, it had seemed like a miracle. I was younger then, more fanciful. I thought it was a gift from God. Whatever my hands touched, they healed. Common colds, the flu, chicken pox, measles, even leprosy! Only diseases, though. I couldn't ever heal cuts or bruises or broken bones.\n\nIt was only a few years later I discovered the truth. God hadn't gifted me with anything. The Devil had cursed me. It was true, I could heal the worst of the worst. Men and women on their deathbeds could jump up and sing when I touched them, and I could watch the hair grow back onto the heads of children I'd high-fived in the hospital.\n\nThen, one night, my best friend had come over and he'd had the remnants of a little cold. At that point, I'd stopped using my ability for something as paltry as that. Not that I didn't care, or that I thought it was beneath me but experimentation with the more aggressive diseases like cancer or smallpox taught me that they took a lot out of me. So I learned to be more reticent and save it for the stuff that truly mattered. But earlier that day I had saved the life of a five year old girl who, I learned afterwards, was going to get to go to real school for the first time the following semester. I was high on a happiness that you can't imagine. So I slapped him on the back, took his cold away and answered truthfully when he asked me how I did it.\n\nThe movies talk to you like no one will believe it. And maybe most won't. But he did. Wholeheartedly. I remember we praised God for what he'd given me, and I remember it was the last time I praised God. The next day, I went to the hospital to give that little girl a bouquet of daisies - she'd told me they were her favorite. I found an empty bed and teary-eyed nurse who told me she'd passed away in her sleep the night before.\n\nI was devastated. Utterly crushed. And the day after, it happened again. The evening news reported the body of a homeless man in the park, dead from a case of leprosy I had taken from him a week ago. The day after, a woman keeled over in a parking garage, killed by an aggressive relapse of stage four brain cancer that she may not have realized she'd already recovered from nine days earlier.\n\nI didn't understand, but at the same time I did. There was link there that I recognized, subconsciously and deep down. Knowledge, it seemed, was my Achilles Heel. My Kryptonite. I had told someone what I could do, and for whatever reason it meant the people I saved had to die.\n\nIt was that night that I got drunk - really, properly drunk - for the first time in my life. I don't remember the events of the night. I know I blacked out somewhere north of 2:30 in the morning and woke up in a cell. I'd been picked up for drunk driving, but later that day I was hauled into an interrogation room to be questioned about the death of my best friend who had apparently been murdered the night before.\n\nI did it. I knew that. And the lead investigator seemed to as well, but a cop who knew me from my visits to the hospital convinced him to drop the charges. He told him I was shook up because of the death of that little girl, which wasn't necessarily a lie. I was released from police custody, but never from the shackles of the truth. No one could ever know what I could do, or innocent people would die.\n\nA year and a half later, a mother caught me visiting her son in the hospital. Saw me put my hand on his forehead. Saw the instant improvement in his face. I choked her to death in the alley beside the Hospital and drank myself into a three day coma. When I woke up, the boy was still alive and fit enough to attend his mother's funeral. Six months after that, I saved a little boy's dog from cancer and shot his father through the heart. A year after that, I was in Africa, healing Ebola cases and bludgeoned a fifteen year old girl to death when she caught me healing one of the town elders of a deadly fever.\n\nOn and on it went. At some point I stopped drinking. Started living with the psychological consequences of my actions. For a while, I hung it up as it were, but it wasn't that simple. My gift wasn't a conscious effort. My touch healed, regardless of whether or not I wanted it to and three more times I was forced to kill innocent people to save innocent people.\n\nAll of it led here. I was drifting through town, eating at a diner late at night when a local cop offered to let me stay at his home for the night. I had accepted and gone home wit him. Upon seeing his daughter laid up with the worst flu I had ever seen, I took it from her and smiled at her and stabbed her father in his study with a Statue of Liberty replica because he'd seen me through the crack of her door.\n\nHe was there on the floor beneath me, still staining his carpet with his own blood.\n\nI left the house before I was seen, left the city before I was identified and moved on to find some other poor soul to curse with my healings.",
"Do not read this until a 100 years from the day of my death, or I will not be alone.\n \nI miss the parties, I miss talking to people. But I have a job, I’m not getting paid, but I have an obligation. \n\nWhich leaves me at a predicament. I’ve saved probably about 100,000 people, it’s been years since I’ve seen another person, or helped them. You see, I need to be there to help them. I need to touch them. The most dire people, the worst diseases are out of my reach. In hospitals, in quarantine, in prisons, hidden from my healing touch. \n\nI want to help, but I fear my failure. Should I risk many lives, of those who are not prepared to die, or let people die a hopeless, painful, and many times, gruesome death. Would I go to heaven because of my constant sacrifice to attempt to save many more, or hell because because I selfishly needed to be recognized being a hero. Where do I belong now? \n\nI am alone here now. I have no where to go. I killed the cancers, not all of them, not even that many, but now it’s their chance to win. I must leave, I cannot risk the same failure I had so few years ago. I need this curse to leave me, and I can’t just run from it, I must jump as well. \n\nI did not accept this, it gave me no choice, I wish not to live this cursed life bestowed to me. I am an outcast with rope to grab hold of, as any rope I hold will not tied again. These are my first words as an adult to be heard, I know they are my last words as well, but I then will not need to see my words plastered on the dead who I gave unavailing hope. This jump will make me light, in the heart, and in body.\n\n-A man too afraid to say his name.",
"I read it wrong but here it is\n\nI was five when I found out, My dark gray pitbull was hit by a car when she was one. I ran out of the house when i heard the noise of a thunk and the car speed up. Luna was going to die. I held her in my arms and started to cry. But she started to lick my face. Her body had no bones sticking out like when I grabbed her, I told no one till her third birthday. “ When i was home alone when i was five luna got hit by a car and I healed her.” my brother looked at me with a look of surprise. “Wait really?” Dave asked. “Yea” I calmly said. Then there was an old slence and a sickening crack. We both ran over to see all of luna’s bones protruding out of her skin and eyes a milky white as if she was dead for years. Her lovely gray fur was matted with dry blood and her skin was dry and slightly green.\n\t\nWhen I was ten I found I can do as much good as harm. The school bully was just fucking with me and I knew something I could do. Earlier that year he fell out off a tree and cracked open his head. “ You remember when you fell out of that tree earlier this year?” James looked at me surprised. “ why are you bring this up queer.” I looked at him with a wicked grin across my face. “ I healed you” then there was a crunch and his eyes went white and he fell over. That's when I found out I can give life... and take it away.\n\t\n“Do you enjoy your powers?” I started hearing this when after I took james life. It wasn’t until I was thirteen that I saw it, kinda. It has white, blue and red eyes. His face was an almost black but was illuminated by the glow of its eyes. Its face had tencrals that went of every witch way and wazed and moved like tentacles and had a pair of pichers near its mouth like a spider. “What do you mean.” I asked the thing. “DON'T PLAY DUMB JOSH YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.” Its voice growing with anger. “ i- i dont” my voice small and laced with fear. “Playing god.” The light slowly began to fade. I don't think I slept that night.\n\t\nBy high school it had stopped talking to me and I had healed 254 people. I know this is that as how many people died on March 23 without any reason. I got drunk at a party and was trying to get into a girls pants. And i told her about my powers the was she had me prove myself was she took a knife and cut down her arm and I healed her. I got a girlfriend but at the cost of the life’s of all those innocent people. Then it returned, it just started as a low chuckle till i asked it to stop. “You’re a murder you know.” it said. “Its fine i will heal more to make it up I have already healed fifty people.” I yelled at the beast as it just started that throaty chuckle again. “Not. Any. More.”\n\t\nIt was 2:27 am in the morning. And I had broken in to the hospital. It was my new year goal was to heal 4,500 people, and kill them all. Aroz had finally convinced me, after 28 years i convinced me why let people live. I am a god, I choose who lives and who dies. A fire had burned hundreds of people and they were in the burn unit here. Aroz had told me that when the people die they feel all the pain they felt when they lived all at the same time. All it took was one light touch and they would be healed and die the very next day.\n\t\nAfter walking through I was caught. The police were called and I was taken in for questioning. After about an hour of questioning heard Aroz say one thing. “Do it.”",
"Her desk was the long plywood kind you'd find on a browse through IKEA and no doubt pass at some point whilst wondering where on earth you’d choose to go if you had to find a place for a store-wide game of hide-and-seek. They’d bought it together for her office and Nick took the better part of the afternoon to put it together in the summer. *Why, Nick, why? Why couldn’t you just leave it damn well alone*. There’d been piles of wooden pegs that hid themselves in the carpet, hammers that she’d not seen since, and many mugs of tea in an assortment of cups from the cute to the industrial. *And what the fuck do I do now? Please, please, just let it go. Why couldn’t he just LET IT GO*. \n\n She lifted her head from the plywood and scanned the office. *It’s not fair. I-it just isn’t.* It was big enough to lean back and hit the opposite back wall with your palms. There was enough space for her filing cabinets filled with their import logs and manifests *(why, why did I keep them for so long)*, her main computer and all its knick-knack cute stationery, and space for her second PC, but that was all. Her potted plants were getting out of hand on top of the cabinets, and they’d brush up against her if she dared to reach too far backwards. The second computer she’d had to repair with the help of guides from websites that felt long-abandoned. It was custard-coloured and encased in the sort of aged pockmarked plastic that flexed and squealed whenever she picked up the monitor. There’d been parts to buy - power convertors, a new tape omni-reader and tapes. God, there were never enough tapes.\n\nThe program was open to the right page in ancient monochrome yellow – Corvus Medlist, predating Windows, before mice and cursors, and sanity, back when the world was wild and monitors gleamed in cathode rays, a time when people still almost understood how the transistor boards worked and would wonder how they’d ended up here with a machine that could count ballistics, and send missiles thousands of miles, and how the fuck you could cram so much into it, and who had breached the gap to make the fucking thing work? And there was a plaque bolted on too, of course, from the times when someone found the answers to that, and stripped all the models from the market, and archived it. But there were so many of those kinds of questions that were dismissed with *‘it just works’*, and the archives were filled with so many other examples, and so no-one would notice it gone, and few would think anything of just one machine less. She’d listed it as having shipped out to the new storage unit in Connecticut, and had deleted the notice of arrival completely. It had been easy to do that in those times. *It’s my fault. I let my guard down. He noticed when it broke. He noticed when the tapes ran out and the hospital couldn't cope, and when the hurricane-.*\n\nThe cursor was still there at the end of the first entry. \n\n 1 > NAME = Elizabeth \"Lily\" Jane Jastrebski [admin]; maxillnesscount = NULL, reduceincidence = true, ceaseadditionaleffects = true. \nShe ejected the cassette, loaded another, tried to find a different solution. There were hundreds of names, all of them valid people, good people. *Nick, please don’t make me. Please. I don’t know if I can do this.* But she had to. She reached for the phone. She would talk to him before she removed the entry, and then they'd all be safe. Pick up, Nick, I need to talk to you. *I want to see you. I don't want to do it alone-*\n\n“Hello? Lills?”\n\n“N-nick?” The monitor blurred. She couldn’t feel her arms.\n\n“Lilly? Hey, are you alright? What’s wrong. Hey, talk to me! What happened? What’s going on?” \n\n“I tried, please, I tried so hard. I’m so sorry.\" The cursor was there, and she felt light-headed. And this was it, wasn't it? \"It’s my fault. It’s all m-my-” \n\n“Lily, stay calm, tell me what’s happened. What’s your fault?”\n\n“All of it. I, I can’t save it.” \n\n“Honey, honey just stay with me, I’m coming home. I’m getting my coat-“\n\n“It’s too late, Nick. It’s all too late.” Her hand hovered over the backspace key. “They’ll all be lost if I don’t do it, and I tried to find a way around, any way around. B-but if I don’t do it now t-then all, all of t-them will die an-“\n\n“Who’ll die? Lily, just start from the beginning. Tell me-“\n\n“I can’t,” she sobbed. “I l-love you Nick. Know that, please-” and Lilly held the backspace key then, and deleted his entry, and heard the phone clatter to the floor in gargled screams on the other end. \n",
"Discovering my gift was purely by accident. A puppy, too sick to lift her head, suddenly bounding around with youthful energy. All I did was touch her head and wish it better. I didn’t tell anyone, not until the pup reached her second birthday. I sat in the backyard with my brother while the dog sprinted from fence to fence. My brother laughed when I mentioned it to him, that I saved our dog. He didn’t laugh for long, not when she stopped running.\n\n\nI didn’t use my power for years after. I kept it hidden away, a secret part of me that no one needed to know. It was easy; there weren’t too many opportunities to use it. My childhood was spent incident-free. I missed those days. School was hard, medical school even harder. What pushed my limits, however, was confronting death over and over again.\n\n\nRotations in ER made me use my power for the first time in over a decade. An infant, struggling to fight off an infection determined to take his life. I did it without thinking. No one noticed when I brushed my hand against his forehead, or how he magically responded to the treatments right after. His parents were just happy to bring home their baby boy.\n\n\nWhen I could avoid it, I did. When it would have been suspicious, I restrained myself. When people questioned me, I deflected. Focus that they’re alive, please don’t question how. After a few years, I thought I could get away with it all. A good system to save my patients without damning them in the end. Plus, alcohol eased the pain from the hopeless cases.\n\n\nI guess… I guess this was my punishment? Confidence turned into arrogance, blinding me from the tightrope I spent a lifetime walking. Now here I stood, my brother on his death bed. A disease with no cure, his body wasting away as quickly as his mind. I could save him. With just one touch and a wish, I could save my brother. Give him the full life he deserved. \n\n\nThen I thought of the consequences. How the doctor saved his brother. The miraculous recovery that should be impossible. The questions that would follow, the research that would be involved, time wasted on a treatment that wouldn’t work. And I would be at the center of it all. An endless storm of questions to find a cure. Paranoia reared its ugly head. It whispered through my thoughts, asking: Would you be able to keep your secret?\n\n\nThis gift was truly a curse. The power to save so many lives, except for the one that mattered. Heal my brother now and risk the truth. How many lives did I save over the years? How many did this decision threatened? If the truth came out, my brother would still be dead. Should I risk all their lives so that my brother may live just a little bit longer? \n\nThe night was long as I stood over him. My hand hovered a hairsbreadth away from his forehead. All I could think to myself was, *Was it worth the risk?*\n\n\nThat decision haunted me for the rest of my life.\n"
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[WP] Dreams can now be uploaded online for people to view. You meet up with one of the world's top dream makers
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"“It’s time.” I thought to myself excitedly, “It’s finally time!”\n\nI’ve been waiting for this day for months, through the back-and-forth emails and all the paperwork they’ve asked for, endless correspondence with his agent, and all leading up to today. Honestly, the amount of secrecy around this meeting has amped my curiosity up to almost unbearable levels. \n\nEver since the breakthrough happened, almost 40 years ago now, the world of entertainment had forever been changed. It was such a simple concept, being able to live someone elses dreams in the most literal sense. So simple, but so revolutionary. I can’t claim to be an expert to any degree, but the recording process was built on an old, almost abandoned medical imaging technology that some eccentric professor in Sweden had poured most of his personal fortune into developing.\n\nOf course, he’s now the worlds wealthiest individual so I suppose it worked out for him!\n\nAnyway, almost overnight there were several competing businesses developing ways to “download” the recorded dreams into your own head, to experience them as though they were your own. They succeeded pretty swiftly, and soon after that the movie industry collapsed entirely. Dreams cost very little to produce, compared to the multi-million dollar budgets demanded by the big hollywood blockbusters seen before the turn of the century. Existing genres were all represented, and the most popular “dreamers” rose to prominence in their preferred areas much as authors are recognised in the world of literature.\n\nAnyway, I’ve gotten away from myself. Far and away the most popular dreams are nightmares. They’re like watching a horror movie, multiplied by a million. Instead of trying to manipulate the viewer into mirroring the fear the protagonist is supposed to feel, they can now feel it directly. That brings us to why I’m here, sitting in an airy, expansive coffee shop in downtown Sydney. Jetlagged after flying halfway around the world for a single interview, waiting to be found by a publicist who’ll be taking me to meet Edward King.\n\nEdward King is a prodigy. He appeared out of nowhere about five years ago, and quickly became known as the source of the greatest and most terrifying nightmares on the market. Despite this, he is also the most secretive individual on the planet. Nobody I’ve spoken to has ever seen him, outside of his publishing team. I haven’t even been able to determine if his name is really Edward King, or if it’s a pseudonym harking back to a “Stephen” of the same name, back around the turn of the millenium.\n\nA woman wearing oversized sunglasses and a *very* expensive suit unless I miss my guess waves me over, “You’re the journalist?” She says impatiently, glancing down at her watch. “Good, good. Traffic was a nightmare getting here so we’ll need to be quick, the window for meeting Mr. King is rather brief.” Almost without looking, in one of the smoothest motions I’ve ever seen, she reaches behind her and opens the rear door of a car that has barely stopped moving before ushering me inside. The journey is a blur. I’m kept so busy reading and signing assorted declarations of secrecy, with embargoes placed on any recorded outcomes of this interview for a minimum of 12 months, that I barely have a chance to glance out of the windows, let alone know where I’m being taken.\n\nAbruptly, all of the paperwork vanishes and the woman has me halfway up a wide, white gravel driveway toward an imposing looking house before I’ve even registered that the care has stopped. Everything is happening is such a rush, Mr. King must be an awfully busy individual if this much haste is needed just to make a meeting on time!\n\nMore paperwork to be signed as I enter the house, I just sign it without reading. There’s been enough legalese by this point to melt my brain, if they were going to get me to sign away the soul of my firstborn that would already have happened.\n\nIt’s finally time. At long last. I’ve been ushered into an airlock-type room, with serious locks on the doors both behind and in front of me, and been thoroughly searched for anything that could cause any harm. I mean seriously, they could give the TSA a run for their money on stretching the definition of “harmful”.\n\nThe door creaks open. The room on the other side is entirely white. White tiled floor. White dream recorder. White furniture that, oddly, appears to be bolted to the floor. A teenage boy, so pale as to look almost ghost-like, dressed entirely in white. White satin slippers. White silk pyjamas. Bleached white eyes stretched wide, staring. Staring directly at me, almost as though they’re looking directly into my soul.\n\nThe trip through the house flashes back through my mind. Half-glimpsed rooms that looked like laboratories with walls covered in chemicals, seen through swiftly closing doors suddenly, shockingly, make horrifying sense. How had I never considered this before?\n\nThe man I’m here to meet, the *dreamer*. Not author. I’d approached this like an interview with any other public figure. Previous interviews with dreamers had turned out the rough figure of 1% of recorded dreams being viable for publication. Edward King had been putting out approximately one new dream a month, every month, for the past five years.\n\nI’ve only just realised. It’s only just clicked. Edward King is a *horror dreamer*. He has been living through *at least a hundred nightmares a month*. The truth is like falling face first into a frozen lake. I’m completely numb and chilled through.\n\nHis nightmares aren’t natural. They’re chemical. He lives his nightmares every day, completely out of control.\n\nIt takes a moment too long to notice that this poor, emaciated boy with the petrifying gaze bears a monogram in pale grey on his breast.\n\n“E.K.”\n\n“His mind can’t take it any more.” I hear from behind me.\n\n“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You really should have read all of the paperwork.”\n\nA needle pricks the back of my neck, and I fall into the darkness."
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[WP] Dwarves imbue magic with each strike of their hammer into whatever they are making. As tradition a father forges a small hammer for his son to learn with, it is this youngs dwarfs first swing at the anvil and the magic he is able to release with each hit is unimaginable.
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"Even after the forge was cleared out and the village elders were brought in, the sparks still fell through the air. Each speck of bright blue slowly cascading down to the ground. \n\n“I’ve never seen anything like this. Fetch me another hammer!” Randall’s father stepped forward and offered his own hammer. Randall, such a human name. But even when the Genesis tribe confirmed it Tronix didn’t want to believe it. The tribe said that a name of such variance carried the promise of a special life. Only now did he understand. Randall took the hammer in his hand and slammed it against the anvil.\n\nSparks. Not as many as before, and a golden color, not the same blue. “Hmm, interesting. Bring me his hammer.” One of the elders brought Randall’s hammer to Pharen, the lead elder. He slammed it against the anvil, and only produced the same kind of sparks. He studied the room for a minute, then handed the hammer to Randall. “Show me.” \n\nRandall stepped towards the anvil, and took a large swing. The room was enveloped in sparks. The bright blue that he produced before. All of the elders had awestruck looks on their faces. “I never...” Pharen took the hammer back. “It seems, that he has some special connection to this hammer. As if it were perfect for him. How does it feel when you hold it son?” Randall thought for a moment, and mimed holding the hammer. “It feels... right. It’s comfortable in my hand, and it’s not even heavy.” Pharen looked around again, and found a sword. He placed it on the anvil. Randall struck it. Instead of showering the room in sparks, all of the power went into the sword, running throughout it like veins, the magic giving the sword life. Pharen grabbed it, and slashed at a training dummy. It burst completely into flames.\n\n“This is astonishing. With training, we could create weapons with more power than we’ve ever seen before.” The elders discussed, and then turned to Tronix. “With your approval, we would like to train Randall personally.” Tronix thought for a moment. “Okay.” He turned to Randall. “If you want to, of course.”"
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[WP] You round a RTX 2080 for only $60 at a goodwill, unbeknownst to you, it was haunted.
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"\"Oh, only $60?\" I asked.\n\n\"I heard the card has some graphics artifacts. Broken Tensor cores or something. Should be easily fixable for $500, or you can live with it, it's bearable.\" the seller said.\n\nI bought the graphics card and walked out of Goodwill, thinking I've made a deal of my life.\n\n\"Hell yeah, the best GPU on the market, for just sixty bucks? Fuck the artifacts, I'll finally run Vampyr!\" I thought. I quickly raced to my house and installed the card in my PC, then updated GeForce Experience and downloaded the RTX 2080 drivers.\n\nThen I launched Vampyr. The graphics artifacts weren't too bad, some stray pixels on the textures here and there, some missing lines on the screen, but it was still playable. The LEDs on my RGB model of the card were bloody red all the time though, even when I set them to run through the entire spectrum of colors.\n\nI decided to turn raytracing on in the settings menu to really check out the power of that card. The reflections were really beautiful, but there was a single unsettling thing about them.\n\nEvery human face on the reflections was my long dead grandpa.\n\nI'm sure artificial intelligence features of the card were in play here, because I had a video from my birthday with the grandpa on the computer, and the grandpa on the reflections was the same as the grandpa on the video.\n\nThen I decided to try out deepfakes. It would really showcase the AI features of the RTX, so I got a porn flick and a thousand photos of Sylvester Stallone. I thought inserting the main actor from Rambo into a Sasha Grey porn movie would be a great way to test out deepfakes, because everyone did celebrity deepfakes.\n\nI waited for the video to render, and certainly I wasn't expecting my grandpa in a porn flick with Sasha Grey.\n\nI couldn't close the video, and in the middle of the playback, my screen broke. A lot of broken lines appeared on the screen. A minute later, a message appeared on the screen.\n\n\"THIS PC WILL DIE\" was written in a Windows 10 style dialog box.\n\nI yanked the cord out to prevent this. Unfortunately, the RTX was still flashing bloody red and the screen was still on.\n\nI dismantled the PC and removed the card. The card was still flashing bloody red, and the screen was still on.\n\nI even cut the power to the house. Nope, my PC was still going to die.\n\nI took a hammer and I felt a 240V shock going through my body. The card didn't want to be destroyed. That's why it did it to me.\n\nI went to sleep. The next day, everything was okay, except that my PC was dead and my screen was broken.\n\nAfter I ate breakfast, the card again started to control my muscles. It forced me to pick it up, pack it into the box I got with the card and gift it to my best friend.\n\nHe will hate me for this."
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[WP] After your grandfathers passing you were left a leather bound book adorning a scythe. As you open the book a single note falls out reading “enjoy your newfound power” As you look in the book you’re overtaken by a dark power and become the new grim reaper
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"\\-- Please, state your name for the protocol. \n\\-- I am Death, the destroyer of worlds, the elderly hag with a broom, I am a — \n\\-- Jesper, just answer the question please, I have a meeting in ten. \n\\-- Right, sorry, m’am. Ahem. \n GR of 80003 Westminster, Colorado.Previously known as Jesper Hearth. \n\\-- On the 1st of January, 2019 by the local calendar you were drawn to an entity C.234.123.999— \n\\-- …Balzur. \n\\-- Excuse me? \n\\-- That’s what was on his tag, Balzur. \n\\-- Don’t make this worse for you, honey. Anyway, the telemetry shows that the soul of the entity is still on mortal plain. Care to explain?\n\nOkay, to be completely honest with you, I always had a soft spot for Maine Coons. One used to live with us, long before the whole “grim reaper” thing started. What happened was, of course, he was already dead when I was drawn to another suburban street of my district that night. Old bugger was probably scared of the fireworks, this time to death.\n\nUn-noticed, I went right through the front door, past Robin, who was trying to assemble a new Lego set, then past his father, who was trying to assemble his ego after giving a sexy (by his standards) pair of panties to Karen, who in turn almost burned his soul to a coal with nothing more than a quick look. The great thing about this job is you don’t have to be invisible, unseen or otherworldly like that. People instinctively avert their gaze, since very few of them want to look into Death’s (and by proxy, my) eyes.\n\nBalzur was just lying there, in the backyard, his grey coat glistening under the scarce moonlight that was getting through the clouds. You could already see a tattoo of a scythe that started from my index finger on the right arm and continued past the wrist, then ending abruptly after about 10 centimeters. That’s because I was in a presence of a soul that left the body. Balzur, now with 100% less flesh was adapting poorly. He tried to walk to me, but his soul cord was still attached, so instead he did a somersault and landed on his back. I laughed at the poor bastard and scratched his belly to make it less traumatic. While he was distracted purring, I gently cut his cord with my scythe, it was almost done. The last thing to do was to rip a little cat-sized hole in the mortal plain and nudge him to eternal life.\n\nAs all cats before Balzur and all cats after him, once the door was open, there was no way he would go through it. I tried, I really did. After what felt like an eternity I felt a tug to be someplace else. Another death, another soul. You really aren’t supposed to do it, but I decided to let him roam for awhile, and come back for him at the end of the shift. That was a week ago.\n\n\\-- Jesper? Tick-tock! Meeting at ten. \n\\-- Oh, yeah, terribly sorry, ma’m.\n\nThe building shook, the lights flickered, automated alert system let us know that “CODE RED IS IN PROGRESS, THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL, HOLLOW SOUL AT 89%”. Out of the window of Linda’s office we saw a soul in the shape of a Maine Coon which was already as high as five-story building, souls flying inside his form like cows into tornado.\n\nI really need to use that organizer HR gave me in a welcome package.",
"*\"My dearest Grandson,* \n\n\n*When my father had passed, I had taken up a mantle many had thought to be a myth. Many have thought the Grim Wanderer and the Ferryman were stories to better ease the minds of a world after this one. It was that grim December day in 1941 that a Navy doctor passed me the gift that he had been given when his father had died. I had just joined the military myself, a Navy Corpsman made to aid the Marines in the Pacific when the war was announced, and the machine had begun to churn its way to the battlefront.* \n\n\n*I had thought him mad, until a man laid dying in my arms, begging for release, blown apart by Japanese artillery and laying upon the beach. I touched his chest to assure him all will be well and that he will live, but I watched the life seep from his eyes and his soul pull itself from his lifeless, broken form. He began to walk, stepped into an ancient dinghy, and sailed to a place I have yet to discover myself.* \n\n\n*I did not choose my son to pass this gift to, because my son is ambitious, his desire for power and the desire to sway the world had consumed him. This gift- this curse, could not be passed onto a man such as he, for the ramifications would be far too great to comprehend. A balance, to which you seem to just... know... can not be broken.* \n\n\n*But you, I have watched you for quite some time, I've judged your actions well. You've led a simple life, volunteered to care with the terminally ill, mourned when your patients had died, and learned that the world is cold and unforgiving- yet you've never lost your hope. You've become a good man, with good judgment that a fair few have been lacking for quite some time. I only pray that you continue to show such with what I will pass onto you. Always remember: at times, Death is Justice, but it can also be a great mercy.* \n\n\n*With All My Love,* \n*Grandfather\"* \n\n\nI stared at the letter intently for a long moment, my brows furrowed as the letter's writing glared up at me intently. The black bound book was heavy, and while the weight was cumbersome in my hands, it felt as if something was weighing heavily upon my shoulders as well. The first page was turned, and as I stared at the blank page, the scarlet-black words began to form, as if being written by some omnipotent force. \n\n\nThe words read as follows... \n\n\n***The History of Death: The Birth of Man*** \n*Chapter One*\n\n&#x200B;",
"It had come in the mail hours ago, a beautiful dark leather-bound notebook with small dark stones carefully inlaid at each corner and a small metallic scythe in the center surrounded in a red circle. There was something about it begging me to open it yet I still had reservations, after all, it was sent by grandad, a man I had met twice in my life once when I was thirteen and the other two weeks ago on his deathbed.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAs I turned it over in my hands, the soft leather filling me with warmth and a strange sense of strength I opened it eager to see what was written within. To my shock, the pages were completely empty despite being as ornately decorated like the cover, ghost white pages with a scarlet red border surrounding each page. Flipping through each page a note fluttered out written in the same handwriting as my granda reading, \"enjoy your newfound power.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nBefore I could begin to process what the note meant or why it was given to me, shadows erupted from the book like dark flames engulfing me with a sensation of deep cold literally freezing my heart as the shadowy flames began to morph into an obsidian dark cloak and in my hands I found myself gripping a scythe with a dark wooden handle the same shade of brown as the leather on the notebook, with a silver blade stretching the length from my shoulder to my arm. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nIt was evident to me what had occurred, I had become an emissary of death himself, a grim reaper. However, questions began to flood my mind, primarily why me and what do I do now? But, before I could reflect on my concerns the previously blank notebook flipped to the front page and a name appeared, \"Alice P. Bradley.\" \n\n&#x200B;\n\nA sense of urgency began to fill my being as I closed the notebook, and walked out the front door into the cold airy night steeling myself for what I feared would be the first of many names. ",
"On a seemingly random, meaningless day \n\nYou come across a book, forgotten, tucked away. \n\n\nOpening the old leather book you hear a faint rustling sound.\n\nA worn sheet of paper comes tumbling down.\n\n\nAs your eyes scan the pages your expression turns sour.\n\nIn your grandfather's writing: \"enjoy your newfound power\".\n\n\nIn an instant, faster than a quickly drawn breath,\n\nA scythe and robe appear, seems like you've become death.\n\n\nThe sound of your calling becoming deafeningly loud, \n\nYou rise up and leave, cloaked in a black, smoky shroud.\n\nPassing unaware strangers on the dark city streets,\n\nYou now know instinctively when you two will meet.\n\n\nAn old brick building, apartment 3C.\n\nPost-heart-attack, you meet old Mrs. Lee.\n\n\nHelping her up and unsure what to say, \n\nYou end up babbling, \"sorry it's my first day.\"\n\n\nThe ghostly woman laughs and says with a smile, \n\n\"Don't you worry now I've been prepared for a while.\"\n\n\nShe closes her eyes with a peaceful expression.\n\nAnd with a puff of black smoke you send her to heaven.\n\nWith grandpa long dead, his note clenched in your fist,\n\nYou think to yourself, \"what's more important than this?\"\n\nDid he ignore all the souls forced to wait? \n\nAnd why did he select you, out of all, for this fate? \n\n\nThe tumultuous power inside starts to burn.\n\nSo you disappear, into thin air, with a turn.\n\n\nAs you traipse 'round the globe I lay back and gloat.\n\nI bet you wish now you hadn't opened my note.\n\n\n"
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[WP] "Sticks and stones can't break my bones, but words may often hurt me." Tell the story of an indestructible, but sensitive character.
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"He was the strongest man I'd ever met. He was brave, funny, courageous, and wasn't afraid of anything. At least, that's how I saw him. He was the hardest man, but also the softest. Many people knew him, but I knew him the best, he was my dad.\n\nOne time, I got laughed at by kids in my class. They laughed at me after I'd tripped and spilled red juice on my clothes. My legs just gave out on me. It wasn't like I'd tripped or anything. I cried as they laughed and didn't know what to do. I ran home as quick as I could after school, across the playground, past soccer field, through the backyards of my neighbors, and burst through the front door. I closed the door behind me and cried as my father came to me and picked me up and carried me to the couch to talk. \n\nAfter explaining what had happened, he told me, \"Remember, sticks and stones may break your bones, but words will never hurt you.\" We spoke a bit longer, and he sent me on my way to change and got me a chocolate milk. Later, I told him, \"Dad, I bet sticks and stones can't hurt you at all!\" He laughed, \"I guess we're the perfect team then!\" The chocolate milk helped my headache a bit, but I just was tired.\n\nI loved spending time with him. We'd go hiking, or play games. When I got tired he'd carry me to where we were going. We went camping one time and he chopped up some old dead logs for firewood and showed me how to make a fire. When it got really dark out, he'd put his arm around me and I'd fall asleep with him protecting me from everything. Nothing could hurt him. \n\nHe was super smart too. Always knew the answer to everything. he helped me with my numbers. He knew how to spell all the hard words. He'd tell me, \"You're such a hard worker, you're gonna get this. Keep trying.\"\n\nOne day, while we were doing my words, I couldn't concentrate. I just couldn't get one of the words I was working on and my mouth just didn't want to say it. He kept encouraging me, but I couldn't do it. I was really tired and I fell asleep in the kitchen and I think I hit my head, because when I woke up i was in a different room and people were talking to my dad.\n\nHe was the strongest man I'd ever met. He was brave, funny, courageous, and wasn't afraid of anything. At least, that's how I saw him. He was the hardest man, but also the softest. Sticks and stones couldn't break his bones, but this word that everyone kept saying was hurting him. It was making him cry.\n\nWhatever \"cancer\" was, I would fight it for him and protect him, because sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can't ever hurt me."
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[WP] A new online retailer offers guaranteed 30-mintues-or-less delivery to anywhere on Earth... and Amazon's sales are tanking as a result. As a high-ranking Amazon exec, you've been tasked with figuring out how exactly they're pulling it off, by any means necessary, no matter what it takes.
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"How do we feel about BBFlite? \n\nIf you want our official position, go read one of the frantic press releases we've been putting out. \"We're not concerned,\" they all say, \"we welcome the competition.\" \n\nHow do I feel about BBFlite? Well.\n\nI knew they were a problem when they didn't implode a month after they launched. I finished updating my resume the day BBFlite went public. The layoffs began a few weeks later, just as BBFlite began its meteoric rise to the top of the Fortune 500. It grew and kept growing, eating up market share, riding high on its impossible promise to deliver anything anywhere in 30 minutes or less.\n\n\"How do they do it?\" my boss asked. He was literally wringing his hands. \"Do you know?\" \n\n\"Not yet,\" I said, \"but I've got an idea.\" \n\nA few hours later I got out my phone and placed my first order on BBFlite: a green lampshade. A little timer popped up in the bottom corner of the screen. I reclined my chair, feeling smug, and waited. Twenty minutes later, I flagged down a flight attendant and ordered a whiskey. She returned a couple minutes later, the whiskey in one hand and a box with BBFlite's logo in the other. \n\n\"I think this is for you,\" she said. I reached for the package. My name, seat number, and flight information were on the label. Inside was a green lampshade. I was only a little surprised. I hadn't expected that it would be easy.\n\nThe plane touched down in Moscow early the next morning. I left the lampshade on my seat. \n\nI could have flown to Irkutsk, but I took the train instead, using the extra travel time to finalize the arrangements for the dive. When I reached Lake Baikal, the boat was waiting for me. The ruddy-faced captain greeted me with a single grunt and gestured toward the cabin. I spent the next hours gripping the arms of my chair and fighting back seasickness as the boat struggled through miles of choppy gray water. We weighed anchor and by the time I staggered back onto the deck the submersible was ready to board. I climbed inside and greeted the two other occupants briefly. \n\nOnce the hatch was closed we began our slow descent. The water quickly darkened from blue to a deep navy. When we passed the 200 meter mark one of the Russians tugged on my sleeve. \n\n\"Very little light here,\" he said, pointing to the screen where the depth ticked passed 250 meters. At 1000 meters he spoke up again. \"No light, now,\" he said. \"Midnight.\" \n\nWe kept descending. The submersible creaked as we eased passed 1500 meters and my ears popped. At 1550 meters, the submersible slowed its descent. At 1700 meters we stopped. A new record for Lake Baikal. The Russians were chattering happily as I got out my phone and pulled up BBFlite. I navigated to my cart and hit \"Check Out.\" I didn't expect much. There was no way my phone could transmit any data from this depth. I thought I must be hallucinating when the little timer popped up at the bottom of the screen. \n\nI peered out the small window at the pressing darkness, holding my breath and wishing for a glass of whiskey. Behind me, the Russians quieted. After a long moment one of them said something that sounded like a question. I turned around. He was pointing at a screen. An enormous blob was a few hundred meters directly above us, descending at a rapid clip. My breath caught in my throat. We watched it come toward us, the silence only broken by the intermittent creak of the submersible. The blob stopped when it reached our depth. I pressed my face against the window again as the Russians scrambled to take pictures. At first I didn't see anything. Then the submersible turned and the twin cones of light caught and held the object as it hung, suspended, in front of us. It was a large, commercial clothes dryer, tied up with a large, red ribbon. I didn't need to see the label to know it was addressed to me. I whirled back around to face the screen just in time to see a small dot speeding away from the dryer, back toward the surface. \n\nIt took a bit more planning to get to Cape Denison. During the winter, the storms come on quickly and the wind is brutal. I stood near the frozen shore. In front of me, the frozen Commonwealth Bay held a giant iceberg in fast ice. I held my phone in a numb hand, watching the timer count down to my most recent order: a Bengal cat named Lulu. I squinted into the wind, looking for the black speck of an approaching drone, promising myself that I would catch it this time. The bones in my fingers creaked in the cold. I moved to switch the phone to my other hand, but the bitter cold made me slow and clumsy. The phone slid from my grip and clattered a few feet down the rocky slope before disappearing in a bank of snow. I stumbled after it, crouching beside the spot where it had sank into the snow. I began to dig frantically, pawing at the snow, until my numb fingers closed around the thin phone. I wiped the snow from the screen and squinted at the timer. It flashed 29:30, then 29:31. I began to grin and laugh into my thick scarf. Then the timer stopped and a new message appeared. \n\nPackage delivered! \n\nMy mouth dropped open and I looked around frantically for the cat and the impossible machine that had delivered it. I searched the sky until my eyes watered. Then, suddenly, the wind died down and I heard the soft meow behind me. \n\nSo, after all that, how do I feel about BBFlite? \n\nI'll let you know after my first day."
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[WP] An O is an immortal entity made of pure oxygen. You can tell they are around when the air becomes clearer and the wind whispers with tiny voices you can't quite make out. Strike a match. Start a fire. Loan them the energy to speak.
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"The night is clear and the ancient lights of stars finished their billions of light year journeys on this planet. Over top an unlit campfire in the middle of the forest, parts of those lights end their journey in the eager eyes of Three boy scouts and their scout master. \nOne of the boys was kneeling before the pile of wood striking flint against steel. The others watching him, create sparks that did not quite reach the wood before burning out and floating into the slight breeze. All was calm in the small clearing they were sitting in. The scout master moved to the edge of the forest to relieve himself. \nOne of the ones not attempting to secure the Fire safety merit badge leaned back and listened to the breeze as it moved through the trees and clearing. “Greg, did you hear about O?” he asked his head tilted to the sky and his eyes closed, basking in the ancient starlight above. \nGreg turned from watching Joey striking the steel with a piece of flint to look over at Steve as he basked in the starlight. Shook his head smiling a moment, “I’ve heard of the training of O.” his smile becoming more of a devious smirk. \nSteve cracked open one of his eyes and smirked back at Greg, “Oh I’m sure you’ve heard all about the training of O, but I’m talking about a different O.” He closed his eye again tilting his head slightly as if listening again before he continued, “O the invisible immortal that whispers hidden truths in the wind.” \nJoey looked up from his task before speaking, “O is old, O is wise, When the sky is clear, and the wind is near, strike a match, and advice will appear.” His hands still striking the flint on the steel. As he finished the ancient poem he had read the spark was caught by the breeze and drawn down into the fire pit. \nThen the breeze picked up into a wind. And the fire flared to life, Joey just barely stumbling away as the flame rose six feet high before settling down to two feet above the burning logs. The first flickered and burned as it started to form a huminoid shape. All three of scouts looked on at the figure as the wind shifted, and hot air was blown into the three scouts by the wind. Sound carried along the wind along with the heat. \n“Carpe noctem” was the first sound that the three scouts could hear. The wind slowed as the flaming figure pointed a flickering finger of fire at each of them, “Ex Nihilo Nihil Fit” then the fire settled lower as the figure seemed to lose its humanoid shape. All three scouts looked at each other in confused amazement. \n“Okay so apparently O is real.” Steve said, then thought out loud, “we will have to figure out what he meant.” \nA few minutes later the scout master walked back from answering natures call.\n"
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[WP] Your father used to be the best fiddle player the world had ever seen; he taught you how to play from a young age, but is now so old he can hardly play anymore. One day, as you’re by his bedside, you sense a dark presence in the corner, leering at the solid gold fiddle on the mantle.
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"I paced my Pa’s bedroom aimlessly. Though he slumbered peacefully right now, not an hour ago he was coughing up blood. He wouldn’t last long. The doctors said a week or two last month, and the rate he faded made to prove them right. But Pa ain’t no quitter. He spent his days reminiscing about his career, imparting wonderful tips for my own that I’d heard hundreds of times before. He’d point to the trophies and photos hung on the walls, recalling the events with perfect clarity. Thank God his mind remained sharp all this time, although maybe dementia would be a blessing since the arthritis stopped him playing.\n\nI stopped to look at the oldest trophy my father had, a golden fiddle he’d won as a young man. He never told me that tale, but I sure as heck asked a bunch. It was almost like he was ashamed of it, despite where he placed it: on the mantle, easily visible everyday. Maybe now he’d tell me.\n\nI realized I’m not the only one staring at it; in the corner of the room darkness had coalesced into a shape vaguely human. Whatever it was it stank of death and had burning coals for eyes, coals that were focused hungrily on the glimmering violin. I may not be a coward, but when an embodiment of Satan himself oozes into your fathers living room, you get scared. I stared for a few seconds, noting how the pure shadow was developing shape, and color. His shift gazed to my Pa, and I reacted. God must’ve given me strength because I was between that evil and my father in the blink of an eye.\n\n“Evening,” it said with a voice like a thousand wailing children. He was fully here, then. Though his eyes remained red and glowing, and his skin the deepest crushing void, he wore a long white shirt under a charcoal vest inlaid with scintillating patterns of sickening green. His slacks matched his vest, and his polished black shoes smoked where they contacted the carpet. He reminded me of a corrupted dandy.\n\nPa must’ve smelled it, because he woke up then, and he was angry. I’d never seen the look in his eyes before. It was revulsion and pity, like when you find a rat caught with a mouse trap round it’s throat. He’d met the devil before, I knew it. When he spoke, it was with a clear voice I hadn’t heard in months.\n\n“What’d’you think you’re doing ‘round these parts, devil? I thought I got rid of ya ages ago!”\n\n“I felt I would respond to your challenge. I can’t have a loss tarnishing my good name.” Again, tortured kids screeched his words, and I shuddered.\n\n“What challenge?” my pa asked through gritted teeth.\n\n“Let’s see if I remember. ‘Come on back, if you ever wanna try again.’ I do want to” The shadow split into a grin, each tooth resembling a massacre.\n\n“You son of a bitch. You know I can’t play no more.”\n\n“Then you concede? Excellent. I have a special room reserved for you. I think you’ll like it. It’s got-”\n\n“NO!” I screamed, making both the devil and me pa jump. Can’t say much about my life, but I startled the morning star himself. “I’ll be his second.”\n\n“Junior, no. You can’t join me, I won’t allow it.” Dad said hysterically. I didn’t know what the challenge was, but if it meant I could save him eternal torment, he’d have had to call Jesus himself down to stop me trying.\n\n“This is unorthodox.” the devil said, as he stroked a materialized pointed goatee. “You didn’t have a second last time, and who better than your son! I accept, but the stakes will need to be raised.”\n\nMy dad started to sob, but I steeled myself, “What stakes?”\n\n“If you win, your father keeps his soul, and the fiddle. You lose, I take your soul as well, and those of all your family to come.”\n\nI wasn’t married, I had no kids. That bet seemed so simple, “Fine. What’s the challenge?” The foul being turned it’s coals towards my pa and laughed.\n\n“You never told him? Glorious.” He turned back to me, “I bet your fathers soul against your family whole, ‘cause I think I’m better than you with the fiddle. I’ll start, as is my custom.” He snapped his fingers and a fiddle appeared in his hands. Stradivarius had nothing on that thing, it was the most gorgeous instrument I had ever laid eyes on. The wood was unearthly, resonating with some energy I couldn’t define. When he struck the strings with the bow, a hiss like a viper resonated throughout the room. Behind him a band appeared; a guitarist with 7 fingers per hand and 5 eyes, a crimson drummer with 4 arms, and a piano that appeared unmanned, but throbbed rhythmically.\n\n“No. There was no mention of a band in the challenge. Either send them back, or provide me with an equally skilled and obedient backup group. That or admit you can’t beat me.” I goaded. I knew that any musician is made better with accompaniment, and I’m no fool to try to take on evil incarnate with any disadvantages.\n\n“Aren’t you feisty. Fine, name your backups”\n\n“Give me a flutist, a bass drummer, and a trianglist.”\n\nThe devil raised an eyebrow at my request, but seconds later, through jets of blue fire arrived my support group. My dad seemed to go into fits and called me over.\n\n“Johnny,” he said, a sudden seriousness taking hold, “take my fiddle. Raise your bow, and play hard. Hell might be breaking loose, but I know you have cards up your sleeve. If you win you’ll have saved my soul, but if you loose we all go in the hole.”\n\nA jaunty riff played as I nodded to Pa. The music built as I pulled down the golden fiddle and bow. The piano joined in as I stood in front of my band. I found my toe tapping along, and as the devil started playing, I knew his character. He played temptation and lust, the harmonies extracted by his saw sounding as beautiful as the works of Peter Paul Rubens. I felt desire and mirth in my very soul, tainted by the evil from which it sprang. A long note drew as the demons finished their first volley in this battle of melody. He was good. Amazing, even, but I knew why he lost to my dad. I turned to my band, “Follow my lead.”\n\nI knew my father kept this violin tuned to perfection. I hear him every day, when he can manage. I looked over, and his face was ghost white, tears threatening to erupt. I think he was terrified, but maybe he forgot who taught me. I raised the bow to the strings, and played.\n\nA glorious verbunkos rhythm flowed effortlessly, the violin singing the wonders of heaven and earth. Soon after, my band joined, providing an evil edge that threatened to drown my tribute. Instead, it served to highlight my own skills and the beauty of all that was good in the world. A quick shift in tempo, and my weapon cried of battle against darkness, of honor and courage. Something leaked from Satan's eye, I think it was blood, and he wiped it away absently. I slowed the song drastically, finishing with a tune of charity and temperance, of justice and wisdom, but most of all, I played of humanity. I closed my eyes, letting tears flow freely as I lost myself to all that made the human soul glorious. I didn’t open them until I ended with a few short notes and a strike of the triangle. No eyes was without something resembling a tear, and Satan had shifted his being, looking more like the right hand of God than one who was cast down.\n\nLucifer bowed his head to me, and spoke with a voice too pure to comprehend, though his words were clear as day, “You have saved your fathers soul. I shall leave you in peace, and thank you”\n\nA moment of madness passed through me, “Devil, just come on back if you ever want to try again. But we’ve told you twice, you son of a bitch, this family’s the best there’s ever been.”",
"I’ll admit It. A gold fiddle always seemed like a cheap gimmick to me. It was heavy, hefty, and was always at high-risk for theft. It was clunky and cold and never played right no matter how hard i tried. I’d never have chosen a gold fiddle. But somehow, dad made It work.\n\nWhen pop picked up that fiddle, It was light as a feather, warm as a hearth. It didn’t play songs; It sang them. When he touched it, the gold body, morphed from a metallic obelisk to an illuminated siren; It called to the listener. It moved crowds... thousands of them. \n\nNo matter my father’s many shortcomings, he’d always been the greatest fiddliest to ever live. \n\nHe once described his talent as “striking the lottery.” He’d deflect my questions about his craft and practice, and preferred to avoid the fiddle altogether when he wasn’t playing. \n\nDad was in the losing end of a lifelong battle with alcoholism. He shook violently and It had become clear to me and Mah that his end was closing in. \n\nHe never was much of a dad. His Gift enabled him to push off responsibility. He never grew up. He never matured. He has been the same man since 22. \n\nAs I sit next to his hospital bed, watching some generic cartoon feline fail to catch a mouse, my father stirred.\n\n“Give me It” he whispered.\n\nNo need to ask what he meant, I handed him the fiddle. \n\nHis shaking stopped, his eyes grew brighter, his voice grew firmer. When he held that fiddle, he looked closer to a man treating a hangover rather than a failing liver. \n\nHe stared into my eyes. Tears welling.\n\n“Son” he uttered.\n\n“Yes pa?” I replied.\n\n“I need you to listen” he said. “I need you to hear me. It is very important.”\n\nI sat up. Important for dad usually meant saying a prayer for The Birds down 2 or stocking the liquor cabinet, but when a dying man asks for attention, you perk up your ears.\n\n“My time is near. No matter what he says. You cannot take the deal.”\n\n“Dad, what’d you mea...”\n\n“SON, listen. It makes no sense now, but listen to me. The booze were my fault. The divorce was my fault. I am not a perfect man. But listen to me. Every true horror. Every nightmare I see when I close my eyes, those are from Him. You need to promise me this.”\n\n“Dad I...”\n\n“I need you to promise me. When I go, leave the fiddle. Don’t even touch It. Stay as far as you can. And no matter what, if you meet a man with a tattoo of a guitar in his neck... run. Don’t ask questions, don’t hesitate; run.”\n\n“Dad, stop, you are having a fit. You need some water, here.” I handed him the water, and he gulped greedily. \n\n“So cold”, he mumbled, releasing the fiddle, and falling back into a deep sleep. I took the glass back, and shivered as the cold exterior sent chills down my spine\n\n“Cold indeed” I said, observing every shallow, dying breath of the world’s most famous musician.\n\nHis breath had turned soft, relaxed, much more like the drunken stupors I was familiar with. \n\ndad exhaled deeply, and the fiddle rolled, slowly, off of his thin chest, cascading down the hospital blanket before falling violently to the floor. It rolled about 3 feet from his bed and stopped suddenly, as if It has struck a wall.\n\nI approached the fiddle, starring inquisitively. \n\nAs I reached for It I paused. \n\nMy breath. The room wasn’t cold, yet I could see my breath. Well, not all of It. For five inches, there was nothing, then, It was as if my breath reached a cold pocket. It appeared, like smoking pushed against a wall.\n\nI stared dumbly at the impossibility of It, when the fiddle began to roll further.\n\nIt rolled into the corner of the room, and I drew back, watching in mystery.\n\nMy father exhaled loudly behind em, causing me to turn. \n\nSmoke, was escaping his mouth.\n\nThe smoke crept along his mouth, and seemed to float with purpose towards the fiddle, encompassing it. As It did, an invisible hand pushed through the smoke, with antenna-finger breaching the smoke shield, and grasping the flute. It burned hot, and the gold melted into a smoldering red. The fiddle chimes with anger. Such anger. As if a thousand trains were bellowing in sync.\n\nMy ears bled, my screams went silent. My father had turned decrepit and grey, his body turned to ash. It blew away in an instant. The invisble hand that had pushed aside the smoke and seized the fiddle began to materialize. \n\nTo say It was a man that materialized in the East wing of Chicago Med in August 13th, 2018, would be untrue. What came to be in room 351-A was an entity. An etherial creature of no genetic code. A being not bound by the laws of nature nor physics. It was of a realm unknown. \n\nIt’s human hand withdrew, still holding the fiddle, while it’s collection of limbs writhed in cruel agony. It’s shapeless face seemed to look everywhere and nowhere in the same moment. It was a horror of no-creations. It’s existence screamed in the face of man and god and all that ever was.\n\nAnd then it was gone.\n\nAnd I was back. And my father lay on the bed, clutching the fiddle, tightly as ever, breathing shallowly.\n\nI looked around, disoriented. Heart racing.\n\nI realized I’d pissed my pants. Urine had pooled into my shoe, and I was trembling fiercely. \n\nI got up, and hurried to the restroom. Turning on the sink, I splashed my face. I ran cold water over my fave and hands. \n\nSomeone breathed down my neck.\n\nI snapped around; no one there.\n\n“Jesus, you’re losing It... just like dad” I said to myself.\n\nI turned back to the sink, and looked in the mirror.\n\nWhatever resemblance of sanity I had managed to muster died with that glance.\n\nAcross my neck, was a tattoo of a guitar. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] You buy a trivia game from the thrift store, it’s on clearance because all the cards are wrong. When you get home you realize that in actuality, all of the facts are true, they just haven’t happened yet.
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"\"No, no, John. You wouldn't want *that*.\"\n\nMr. Bront looked at me with the same patient smile as always, although his exact phrasing had caught me off guard. It was, I realized, because he'd framed it as a *negative*, something *not* to buy. I hadn't ever heard Mr. Bront speak in negatives before. I had been coming down to his neighborhood gaming store since I was a little kid, and if he thought there was another toy or game that a person should have been buying instead of the one they were looking at, he'd redirect them in the most positive way possible. \n\nHe never would straight up tell a person that X was bad; he'd just nod politely and point them in the direction of Y, explaining why it was so great and how much more it fit what they were probably looking for. He wasn't the type to badmouth anything, ever.\n\nAs a rule, when Mr. Bront gave you recommendations on what to get, he was right. I'd never seen him fail someone in that regard. He had nearly half a century of experience as the owner of a board game store, and he had almost a magical quality about him when it came to figuring out what people needed. When I had been younger, I’d never left his store without a smile; hell, I’d hardly left it at all. I hadn’t had the best home life growing up, and he’d never had any problem letting me or those like me stay after school as much as I wished, even if I wasn’t buying anything. He’d talk to me, too, and genuinely listen to my problems. I’d never had an adult do that, before him.\n\nHe didn’t just point people towards games because they were more expensive, either. After my twelfth birthday, he’d talked me out of an expensive trading card set, pointing me to spend just a fraction of my hard earned money on an old two-dollar card set instead. I’d been doubtful at the time, but my friends and I ended up playing with it so much it ended up cutting into our schoolwork. \n\nHe knew what he was doing, and with the fantastic reputation his store had across the neighborhood, it wasn’t as if it hurt his profits. There were people who did what he did for the money, but he wasn’t one of them. He’d always endeavored, if I recalled correctly, to donate at least half his profits to charity each year.\n\nHe usually gave more.\n\nIt was an empty late-December evening when I’d come from college to revisit the old shop where I’d spent so much of my youth, and with less than an hour before closing, the two of us were the only ones inside his shop. I’d pointed to a certain game I noticed sitting on top of his trash can. It had been opened.\n\n“*The Compliment Game.* Sounds interesting, Mr. Bront. This is one of those magic party games, right?”\n\n“...You wouldn’t like it, John. And it’s broken, I’m sorry to say.”\n\n“Really? How’d you come across it?”\n\n“Someone sent it in the mail. It doesn’t work.”\n\n“...Are you sure? I thought the spells they used for these things are fairly simple and ironclad, right? The box says it’s produced by SorcererPlay. They’re one of the best when it comes to quality control.” \n\n“...Even the best people make mistakes.”\n\n“Could we try it out? We could play a quick game. I’m interested. I’ll pay you for it.”\n\n“It’s not even mine, John. I couldn't sell it.”\n\nI didn’t point out that he’d been fine throwing it away.\n\n“Please, Mr. Bront? One game. It would mean a lot to me.”\n\n“I’d be happy to play anything else; I wouldn’t want to bore you with some silly thing like this. We have the newest version of Turtle Troubles, you know. They say they made them much faster. I know you loved the fifth one, back when you were in middle school.”\n\n“I know, but I’m sick of that. C’mon. Just one game. The box says it lasts ten minutes. You can handle ten minutes, right?”\n\nHe looked at me, with his tired old eyes. He had a tough time saying no to people, especially when it came to something like this.\n\n“...Okay, John. One game.”\n\n“Thanks, Mr. Bront.”\n\n“It doesn’t work, though. You’ll see what I mean.”"
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[WP] Most aliens are not social and individuals like to live alone. To them humans are like a hivemind swarm.
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"Urgh what are these filthy, talkative creature I wonder as I walk through a wasteland world. They grew up and destroyed their only home!\n\nAnd now... now they communicate with each other. Who wants to do that? You’re better off on your own in this universe. They clearly didn’t get to the space travel part of evolution. That just lowers my expectation of what I’ll find here.\n\nThey’re so small as well. About the height of one of my arm lengths but in a group, a swarm I should say, they are master hunters. Very efficient at killing, not only other species but themselves as well. It’s like they realised physics existed and destroyed themselves with it, pathetic! I wish I had trained harder in school, I could have gone to planet full of intelligent beings such as grim reapers or vampires but no I got a B in investigative studies so earth it is. The worst planet in the Milky Way!\n\nAt least this holds a few challenges, keeping composure when a tiny little man comes running towards you naked and blasting him with your disintegrater 2000 after about 2 minutes of screaming. That always gives me a chuckle. But apart from that it’s just rubbish, even small robots package the crap into cubes and stack them as tall as mountains. It’s a filthy place with filthy pe.....\n\nI hear a crunch. And another and another. There’s lots of chrunches now. From all around. They’ve surrounded me. THEY’VE SURROUNDED ME! This is the most I’ve ever encountered. I can tell because they’re more relaxed and the fluctuations in the density of the air around my super suit are huge. I can hear them “whispering” to each other. \n\n“Ha, he’ll never see this coming”\n\n“What a giant dickhead am I right. He invaded our planet without warning and wreaked havoc on our societies!”\n\nI take no notice of their awful insults. It’s not civilised to do so, especially in my race of people. I start to think about how to get out of this situation but they start to charge. No big deal.\n\nMy suit has a function to slow down time you see but it can only be used for a certain amount of time (slow time). I’ve used 80% of it already, that gives me about half an hour left (luckily my hours are the same as these ‘human’ hours). I slow down time... it doesn’t work. I try again. It doesn’t work. They’re closed now. About 100m left and I’ve heard some of them an run that in under 10 seconds (pretty impressive for their size). 50m... 20m... 10m.... they’re on me!\n\nClambering up my leg, punching my sensitive area and ripping/trying to rip my suit off me. I swat them off as only the more athletic ones are here first so not many of them arrived.\n\nNext is the casual joggers. They seem determined to do better than the athletes. There’s more of them as well but they’re not as strong so wipe them out with a miniature shockwave. \n\nFinally is the casual folk. Theirs a lot more of them. Around 5000 this time. There’s not much I can do without killing them and let me tell you I HATE blood. But a bone shattering frequency of sound it is. They crumble in front of me and I carry on with my investigative work.\n\nBut the ground starts to rumble. I’ve never felt anything quite like it but a memory of mine flashes before my eyes. It’s the chief of our squad telling all my team mates there’s one type of human to look out for. Those are the... the.... \n\n_the gamers_\n\nTHEY WERE HERE. Now! Coming straight for me. They weren’t ordinary, silly humans. They knew how to win a game and that’s exactly what this is. A boss fight for glory and one thing that humans excelled at was turning themselves into gamers. From the sound I estimated there to be about a thousand but no...\n\nOnce they got closer there was rumbling all around me. There were far more than a thousand. There were far more than five thousand. More tha I’d ever encountered and they were coming for me! \n\nI tried the shockwave but they had shields. I tried flame throwers but they had hoses. They had everything that negated my attacks. They threw grapples at my legs and wrapped them around like the ATAT walkers in Star Wars (yes human entertainment is bloody brilliant, yes I can enjoy other people’s content. Don’t laugh at me).\n\nAnd so I write this in my last few seconds of life when my time slower has decided to start working again do you to read this and remember... don’t invade earth... they’ll destroy you as easily as they destroy them selves."
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[WP] You are browsing Reddit and then out of nowhere you find a subreddit that’s completely devoted to pictures of you that other people have taken. This subreddit is extremely active.
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"What's the best subreddit that no one knows about? \n\nWe've all clicked on that post on AskReddit. Hell, I've clicked on a few. It's how I found r/fatsquirrelhate. \n\nI was scrolling through the comments on the latest version of that question. As usual, I knew most of the subreddits in the top comments already. But then I saw one pop up that I didn't recognize. \n\n\"r/stupidfuckingface is absolutely legendary.\"\n\nI paused, then clicked into the rest of the comments. \n\n\\>\"this \\^. found it yesterday. best part of reddit imho\"\n\n\\>\"YAS! This guy and his stupid fucking face!\" \n\n\\>\"This guy's stupid fucking face gets around. Loved the post where his stupid fucking face was at a dog show.\"\n\n\\>\"Stupid fucking face for president.\" \n\n\"OK,\" I thought, \"I'll bite,\" and I clicked on the link. I scrolled down to the first picture, shrieked, and slammed my laptop closed. \n\nIt was a photo of my stupid fucking face. \n\nI don't picture well. It's not that I'm ugly. I'm actually a decent looking guy in person. But even my mom says that I look like shit in pictures. I remember taking home my school photos when I was in third grade and showing them to mom. She laughed for five minutes. I timed her. Then she sat me down and told me that I would always be her handsome man. \n\n\"Just not in this picture,\" she said, tapping it. \"You look like a fucking moron in this picture.\" \n\nI opened my laptop slowly. The subreddit snapped into view again. The top photo was me at a barbecue standing next to this hot girl, obviously checking her out while also eating an ear of corn. The next post was a photo of me skiing down a hill that gradually zoomed in on my face. \n\nI kept scrolling. There were dozens of pictures. Maybe over a hundred. \n\n\"Holy fuck,\" I thought, as it dawned on me. \"I'm like thiiiis close to becoming a meme.\" \n\nI closed my laptop again, got myself a drink, and had a little think. Half an hour later I had sent a message to the mods. I finished my drink and waited for their response. I pounced on it when it came.\n\n\"Mr. Stupid Fucking Face it's an honor and a privilege to finally meet you! The third grade picture is epic. Looking forward to seeing the rest.\""
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[WP] You're trying to keep your son our of prison. Apart from his word, everything points in his direction. But you believe him.
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"„Dad you are trying way to hard.” He said\n\nThis has been going on for so long, ever since the accident, but I would keep on trying. Non-stop.\n\nWe both knew he was innocent. **I** knew he was innocent, I spent entire days, weeks even months to make sure they wouldn’t put him away.\n\n„Dad, look, I know you don’t want me to go to prison” he said, fiddling with something in his hands.\n\nI kept looking through the papers, there was so much evidence claiming that he did it. I *had* to do something.\n\n„Daddy” he said, putting his hand on mine. I looked at him, with tears in my eyes\n\n„Misspeling is just a week in the Grammar prison”\n\nI snapped. And I lashed out\n\n„This entire family, our ancestors, have been making sure that every word is correct gramatically, this is no longer about you going to prison. This...” I stuttered „T-this is about our honor boy” i felt my eyes swell with tears.\n\n„Dad...” he said, no longer being sad or worried. Only angry. „Just give up.” He stood up and left.\n\nAs he closed the door I looked back at the papers... he was right. There was no way to stop them. I had to give up.\n\n„How the fuck can you misspell out to our?” I said to myself leaving the room."
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[WP] You are an immortal. You have seen the spans of time. You have watched empires rise and fall, technology develop and become obsolete. There is only one problem, you have Alzheimer's.
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"Two voices whisper outside my door.\n\n\"Oh my gosh! Did you really?! I'm sure he'll be ectastic.\" Female.\n\n\"Yeah, well...we'll see.\" Male.\n\n\"I think you should just do it.\"\n\n\"I'd rather let him decide.\"\n\n\"Meh. Well, I think it's great regardless. I'll be down the hall checking on the other patients. Just ring me if you need anything.\"\n\nThe door opens and a man enters. I don't recognize him; but with Alzheimer's, that isn't saying much.\n\nHe pulls up a chair and smiles. He tells me he's my grandson. He tells me about the family. Then he tells me what he's really here for.\n\n\"I found a cure for Alzheimers. Not only a cure, but a restoration. But I need to let you know the cost.\"\n\nI chuckle. \"Well, shucks, grandson. Can't give your ole grandpa a discount?\"\n\nHe smiles, but it's strained. Forced. For my benefit.\n\nI get serious. \"Okay,\" I tell him. \"Give it to me straight.\"\n\n\"I said I'm your grandson. But that's not 100% true. The fact is that I'm actually your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandson, and that's me cutting it short on the greats.\"\n\n\"I don't understand.\"\n\n\"You've been alive for a long time. And that's an understatement. But that's not even the biggest issue. Do you remember Cilly?\"\n\nI shake my head no.\n\n\"That was my mother. You were at the funeral. You bawled your heart out.\"\n\nAs he says it, a vague memory flashes before my eyes. A casket. A pain in my chest. Hands trying to pull me to my feet as I collapse to my knees in grief and cry my eyes out.\n\n\"You were inconsolable the entire day. But you were fine the next morning,\" he says. \"The Alzheimers made you forget. In a way, it shielded you from the memory so that you could go on. If I cure you, that memory will come back. And,\" he adds, \"that wasn't the only funeral you've been too.\"\n\nI understood now. Curing the Alzheimers would make me not only relieve the good times, but also the bad. And if I had lived as long as he said I did, who knew how much bad there would be? Would I be able to bear it?\n\n\"Thank you,\" I told him. \"For asking me. But I don't want to remember.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] You receive an extraordinary gift: the power to bring your art to life.
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"\"This is, most assuredly, not where We expected to find ourselves at this juncture, nor how We expected to spend our afternoon.\"\n\nEllis gazed up at the attractive, verdant-complexioned cactus woman hovering over him in surprise, his mind trying to process what had just happened. His mouth opened, but no words came.\n\n\"We shall assume,\" she continued crisply, her hazel eyes narrowing into annoyed slits, \"that thou hast a good reason for summoning Us away from Our TV when Calgary are up over the Lions by one with 90 seconds left in regulation. Which is?\" \n\nFinally, Ellis' brain shifted into first. \"Who are you?\" he managed, his mouth still agape at what had just occurred.\n\n\"We have gone by many names over the years, mortal. Our true name is ᚨᛊꢤᩎꗾ, but 'Alraune' is probably going to be easier for thee to pronounce.\"\n\n\"Wh-what are you doing here?\" he sputtered.\n\n\"We would ask thee the same question,\" she glowered, her thorns glinting in the late afternoon sunlight, \"putting aside the obvious answer of 'not watching football'\". He glanced downward, eyes wandering as he tried to figure out how, where an empty patch of carpet had been only moments before, an impatient plant-girl now stood. \n\nPresently, he started suddenly, as if recalling something of great importance. \"That crazy old bastard in the art supply shop wasn't so crazy after all,\" he muttered, his brain finally having recovered from the overload of awe.\n\n\"Of what speaketh thou?\" Alraune said, resigned to the fact that she was probably missing the most exciting ending of the season. \"A guy sold me a magic pencil, and he told me that if I used it, all my drawings would come to life,\" Ellis gushed, excitedly.\n\n\"And thou believeth him.\"\n\n\"Well, no, not initially, but _you're_ here, aren't you? Look!\" he said, grabbing a sketchbook from a nearby shelf and opening it for her to see. On the first page, sure enough, was a carefully-executed sketch of [a half-cactus, half-human woman](http://fav.me/dcqd7ea).\n\n\"Cute, although We thinkest thou cheated on Our hands and spent a rather uncomfortable amount of time imagining Our bosom,\" Alraune said, flattered at having been drawn and her mood softening a bit. She could, she reasoned, find out how the game had ended later. Here was a mortal who, for whatever reason, had been gifted with summoning magic, and, while he had been irresponsible, clearly had meant no harm...\n\nA worrisome thought occurred to her. \"Mortal, didst thou draw any dragons, or demons or anything like that?\" Ellis shook his head. \"No, I don't really know how to draw those yet, although, given what's happened, I think that's for the best.\" She nodded. \"What else _didst_ thou draw with it, then?\"\n\nEllis started to answer, but his reply was cut short by the sudden avalanche of [disembodied, slightly off-model cartoon hands](http://fav.me/damwj0y) tumbling out of the bookshelf.",
"“No no no no.” Not good enough. James looks at those haunted eyes. Filled with tears. He hesitates. But it’s still not good enough. Smoke fills the air. His ears are still ringing as he gets the mop to clean up. \n\nHe makes himself a cup of coffee. And the eyes come back to him. He blinks a few times and forces the image out of his mind. He looks at a photograph on the desk drawer. “I’m so close sweetie. Next time it will be perfect. I just know it.”\n\nHe paints furiously. He is in a haze and isn’t really sure of anything. He doesn’t know when his last meal was. He doesn’t remember when he last slept. His throat is parched. There is a glass of water on the table beside him. And pills. Lot of pills. But he needs to be awake. He needs to paint. He’s so close. He can almost feel the warmth of her body. Her scent is so close. \n\n“No.” The shot rings out again. Another body added to the pile. He doesn’t bother with the clean up anymore. Just gets the next canvas out. “It will be better this time. I’m sure this one will be perfect.” His heart is racing. His body is shutting down. But he is close. He downs another couple of pills and starts again. \n\nDarkness has started creeping in at the edge of his vision. His sight is blurry. His hands are trembling. He clutches his left side again. He is sweating. The ac is on at full blast. Why is he sweating? But through it all his hands never stop. The brush strokes continue. Till he falls down. \n\nAnd there she is. Standing over him. He blinks a few times hoping to clear his vision. So he can look at her. He can make out her yellow dress. He dress she was wearing that day. That damned day. \n\n“Karen!”\n\n“It is ok James. We’re almost there.” \n\n“Did I succeed?”\n\n“I don’t know. Did you?”\n\n“None of them were real enough. None of them were perfect. You were perfect.”\n\nShe laughs. He has missed that sound. “I wasn’t perfect James. No one is. But it’s time for you to sleep now.”\n\n“But you aren’t like the others. You sound like her. You are perfect.”\n\nShe smiles an enigmatic smile and runs her hand over his face, closing his eyes. The last traces of life leave his body. But he does with a smile on his face. A stack of bodies lie to the side. All of them resembling a woman long dead. An empty canvas page falls to the ground.",
"It's the greatest gift I have ever received. That single wish I always wished I had. Bring art to life. It's perfect. If I want anything I draw it. Dresses, check. Nice scarf, check. New glass to replace the one I broke, check. All at my fingertips. All on beck and call. I want for very little and since art has always been my life it's no different. Even if money is tight all I need is food and rent. Heat I draw a fire. I have drawn all I could want that I've not inherited from family.\n\nYet there's one fatal drawback. No power can create something from nothing. Whatever I wish to create must be supplied. I cannot defy physics no matter how hard I try. And given the... dubious source of my gift the tithe is blood. It was hard to begin with. Dozens of trips to hospital. Four emergency blood transfusions and it took nearly seventeen months of therapy to escape the looming threat of institutionalization for suicidal tendencies. Now I know my limits. A little bit creation here and a little there. Just enough to keep me from dangerous levels. Bigger projects require me to stop a lot till I'm full before I cut down as low as I can safely manage. It works even if it's not perfect.\n\nAnd yet... It's not enough. Creating true art will kill me. A new dress can leave me all feeling faint for weeks. Making furniture will leave me bedridden. And my patron won't let me stock and store for later. Sacrifices must be fresh. Sacrifices must be made explicitly for the purpose at the time. But another's life is too high a price to pay for global recognition of my power isn't it?",
"\"Why did I have to recieve this power now?\" I say out loud to the wish-granting entity above my head.\n\n\"You have asked for it multiple times when you were a teenager.\" He replies. \"We're so sorry that it took so long to grant. There are more than 7 billion people in the world you know...\"\n\n\"Just... just...\" I scream holding my hands in the air.\n\nI've already accepted it: I'm never gonna famous this way. Although I was extremely talented in art, I know I'm never gonna be famous because of it. I'll let all the other artists of the world get their awards and nominations. In fact I think I would earn more money begging on the streets than doing a commision from someone (if I ever did get a commision in that case)\n\nMy artworks posted online never get noticed, except for some stalker who likes them just so I can view his shitty page. The other artists I idolized (including many prodigies, including one who is only 13 years old) now have published books based on their art, enter art shows regularly, and earn lots of money and praise for their artworks.\n\nAs for me... well, I'm just some bloke in an apartment, trying stupidly to earn money from art.\n\nI walk around my apartment, passing the fireplace that now burns art paper and colored pencils, and find myself in the kitchen.\n\nI grab a knife from its hook and point it towards my throat."
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[WP] In the human simulation game you're playing, one of your characters is having psychotic breakdowns because he's slowly realizing he isn't in control of his own life. (maybe if you didn't keep removing the ladder from the pool he was swimming in) But he's not even the main character.
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"The red light washed over her sleek curves and thin frame. The red was soft, ebbing and flowing, as if it was a liquid that was pooling up and illuminating her every bump and crevasse of that beautiful black vixen. I softly ran my finger to where I knew turned her on, and let the tip slowly sink into her. A bright blue light screamed from her fans, as they kicked to life. Bliss washed over me as the monitors bathed me in their back-light. I love my computer. \n\nI had played SimCopter, SimCity, and the other games that came bundled with them frequently back in 2000, when they came out as a kid and had loved them senseless. But when they started to make the Sims games that put you in control of a household, having kids, and monitoring incomes of fake humans, the fun sounded like it left their simulation games. Well after the 4th Sims title sold so little copies, they couldn't GIVE it away at $5 a copy, it seemed clear that Simulation games were only as good as the simulation was real. And so the creators of the Sims set out to create a new game, that would bring popularity back to their title. \n\nThey had been working for 14 years without a single peep. And then it was here. Sims 5. Using the AI core that is now standard in most desktops, or as a PCI extension card, the computer was able to realistically think for all of the NPC's as if they were just as real as you, and instead of having the Sims 5 be top down, as its predecessors had been, it was suggested to interface with your Neural Interface. Typically, the iNeurom, by apple, was the easiest to connect for MAC users who wanted to shift their consciousness to their overpriced, underclocked, laptops but to get the fullest out of this game, you needed a Paradygm NatroNeuro with a pretty beefy Artificial Intelligence Processing Unit and of course a GPU with at least 32GB of VRAM. *To Simplify the Tech jargon, If you put really high speed technology into your computer, you could use the chip in your brain to play the games with your thoughts.* \n\nI clicked no more than 5 times and climbed into bed. I opened the game and closed my eyes. It's a weird feeling, jumping into a computer. The taste of bitter almonds penetrated my mouth, as the computer began rendering my body, Nothing painful happened, but it could never get the taste of air quite right. I had the Sims for about a year and had been simultaneously rebuilding my real life inside of the game, but on my terms. In it, the world really did revolve around me. I could shift the stars in the heavens with a nod of my head. My house was built directly out of my memories, and my parent's old home was where I had decided to play at. All my old friends from highschool had their own characters and every one of them had a personality that was almost identical to theirs. I just had to import my text messages, phone calls, and some memories to the AI and it did the rest. I was 18 again, learning how the world works for myself, and growing up in my small town again. I smiled and walked into my room. It was just like I remembered it, with the mural of Disneyland painted on the wall above my bed, and the biplane kite that we never flew, hanging from the roof like a reminder of my early love of the outdoors. \n\nI walked out of my room, down the stairs and my family was there. **\"I'm off to Justin's\"** I warned. Parents nodded and waved, and sister ignored me. It was so real. I hopped into my 2008 Chevy Cobalt that had been flipped in an accident several years ago and drove it to my closest friend's house. I walked into his home, casually ignoring the fact that locks exist, and found him jerking it on the couch. **\"GEEZ! Don't you KNOCK?! How did you get in here anyways?!\"** the sprite, pixelated from the waist down, screamed at me, as I backed out of the room. **\"So sorry, bud. I thought you knew I was coming over.\"** I laughed. He checked his clock and blushed. After pulling his pants back on, we walked out to my car, pulled out a couple joints, and lit them, walking down the street and puffing while we talked. This version of the sims was more of a chance to right some of the wrongs of your real life. I had been using it to relive my life from my memories, and see what kinds of changes that I could have really made. Many of my changes came from knowing the outcome of a certain action, and changing my action, resulting in the same outcome anyways, but every so often, something would budge. Something would change and then a tear would happen between the real world, and this digital one, where I was the god. As we walked, we passed a man, out for a stroll. I smiled and waved, and he turned to face me. **\"YOU!\"** he screamed, nearly charging towards me. **\"Yo- Could you maybe let me hit that? I am having a really rough day. I feel like nothing is under my control in my life.\"** \n\n\\[TBC. Hopefully tomorrow, If I am not too lazy to open my computer tomorrow.\\]"
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[WP] In this world, the magic divides itself by time. There are day-mages with a tiny spell for each day, there are week mages with a slightly more impressive single spell for a week, month-mages who have a new magnificent spell they can cast once a month. You're the millennia mage.
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"The government realized it before I did.\n\nI’d come from a family of year-mages, so I always assumed I’d be one too, and I was never really worried when it came to casting. The tingling, according to my mother, would start small, in your toes or your fingertips, and as the months passed, the buzz would grow and grow until you had no choice but to release it in a spell, before the opportunity faded altogether at the end of the year.\n\nI never told her that I had never felt the tingle before. I wasn’t worried—it had to happen eventually, surely? Until I turned eight and still never cast. Then ten, then fifteen, and then twenty, and then I was twenty-five when a black-clad government day-mage appeared at my door and whisked me to a room that reminded me oddly of a cage.\n\nI remember the officer who told me what I was. A millennia mage—I hardly believed what I was hearing. I remember the way she seemed to glow, eyes like saucers, when she said that I would be humanity’s “hero”, that someday, my spell could save the world, could save a species on the verge of complete destruction, and that—\n\n“Isn’t it wonderful to know you’re the most powerful weapon to ever exist?”\n\nI remember smiling, mumbling some answer too insignificant to recall, because all I could think was one thing:\n\nHow long?\n\nHow long would I be here, then, in their back pocket like some insurance on humanity, waiting to be used? How long until I live out my human days and begin living borrowed ones? How long until I cast that millennial spell and drop to the ground, dead, because my single purpose in this world had been achieved?\n\nI knew it was selfish. Yet every day, during that twelve-second window when the day-mages guarding me—preventing me from casting any wanton spell—had their backs turned as they changed shifts, I parted my lips, so close to casting a spell for my own freedom.\n\nThe years dragged on. A tiny tingle began in my pinky finger. The impulse to cast grew stronger, and the window of time with their backs turned, longer.\n\nLiving in that hospital-like cell, I thought a lot to pass the time. I thought about saving the world, and humanity. Thought about global warming, disease, even an alien apocalypse. I thought about that noble officer. But then I also thought about the life I wanted to have, the one that they’d taken away.\n\nAnd I made a decision.\n\n\n\n\nI think I must have been near fifty when I saw the officer again. She sat in the corner of the room, eyes wide like saucers, but it was the bewildered kind of wide, and I stood before her, absently rubbing my pinky—a habit I’d recently acquired, just to make sure the tingling was truly gone.\n\nI smiled. “Lighten up, sweetheart,” I said. “Isn’t it wonderful to know you’re the most powerful weapon to ever exist?”",
"\"Everyonegained powers\" -- That was known to be the work of a millennia mage. The first millennial mage, so many years ago, brought these powers to life in everyone. They had powers beyond imagination and belief, and honestly, nothing seemed impossible for those mages. But, they were far and few in between, with only two recorded millennia mages.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nSlowly, followed the common mages -- Day, week, month, year mages. One recorded decade mage, with his last act being one of repairing a city broken in an earthquake to it's previous condition. Day mages, well, they had simpler powers. Burning a candle faster, making a fire glow brighter, a plant grow slightly faster for a while, or even making something shine slightly more than it was capable of. Week mages, well, throwing one or two fireballs, causing a strong gust of wind, you get the gist. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nMy mother is a year mage, and my father was a month mage. Well, they had interesting powers, to say the least. My mother could create things out of raw matter provided it wasn't too complex, things like chairs or cots were okay, but things which she couldn't make with her knowledge were too complicated. My dad had the power to, well, power other mages. If they were within a certain threshold, he could let them re-use their power. Obviously, we didn't spread it around that much because that would mean that year mages could use their powers twice or something as absurd as a decade mage having their crazy powers twice in the same 10 years.\n\nSadly, someone found out, and, well....My father went from an \"is\" to a \"was\". It was a crazy story but it's not about him. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nThis story is about me. \nMy mother, she thinks I'm a decade mage. She's waiting for my powers to manifest for the first time, to see how my father's and her powers might have combined or mixed in any way. She was a scientist type, herself, because of her matter creation powers, but I thought I was more of the blacksmith type, or the forger type. I loved swords, loved blades, loved anything that could cut. Call me crazy, but I loved seeing knights of the city train and spar and use their swords against each other, in the squares of Av-e-lon.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nBut, back to the point. My mother thought I was a decade mage, but I knew what I was. I'd felt the power brewing within me for so long, some sort of beacon screaming, \"*Here I am! Notice me!*\" But I didn't want to tell anybody, not yet, except one of my human friends, who was sworn to secrecy. The moment I opened my mouth, I was sure i'd face a horrible fate. People were scared, after all, scared, despite what being a millennia mage meant -- Some form of unlimited power, something that was unimaginable beyond belief -- in the hands of the silly sword loving elf-boy. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI'd been waiting for weeks, but I could finally use that power. That power which told me, had no boundaries, had no limits, had no way to stop it or had no restrictions. The power of unlimited, absolute, complete creation. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI wanted to make a sword. I told my human friend, let's call him Shaman, and he said I was stupid. I didn't think he'd understand, because he told me he was a year mage, and i'd met him just a few months back, but we became fast friends. He was smart in many ways, but I felt there was more to him than met the eyes, but, that was maybe just a little bit of human-distrust speaking on my part. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe said, \"You know you could probably do anything you want, and you want to make a *sword*? You could make a million gold pieces, you could make the world change, you could do *anything*, and you want to make a shiny thing that *cuts*?\" I scoffed, \"That's the thing, Shaman, not just any sword. Something that's going to go into legend, something that's going to become a legend among legends among legends. I want to make the best sword anyone's ever seen or heard of, and I want it to be remembered.\" \n\nHe replied, \"The sword, or you?\"\n\nI considered it. I knew I wanted to leave a legacy, but if my creation was remembered, and the creator forgotten, so be it. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nWe left, parting ways, both returning home, and I pondered. Did I really *want* to make a sword? I could be able to do anything, he said, and I didn't want to regret it later. But I felt like...well, it was the right thing to do, and if the sign came, telling me to do it, I would. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nThen, the signal came. \n\nThe warning.\n\nThe sign. \n\nHumans and elves, well, \"friendly\" would be putting it a bit too optimistically. All it took was a man, and a few of his banded buddies to get together a support base strong enough and determined enough to rid the world of \"the cruel demon-serving\" elves.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nNobody saw it coming. Nobody was prepared. Everyone. Was. Slaughtered.\n\nI knew if I brought them back, it would do nothing. If I annihilated them, it would solve nothing. I couldn't really think in the shock, of seeing my uncle and my aunt, killed in front of me, and my mother yelling at me to run while grabbing my hand and her papers, frantically, her hair strewn about all over her face. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nWe ran. She ran out, and I followed, but I ran to my safe haven. Shaman. He would understand, he would save me. \n\nHe looked at me with a panicked look on his face, \"I'm sorry\", he breathed, as he realized what exactly had happened to us. Whatever he'd heard from his parents, from his family, it did no justice to the death my people faced. \n\n\"Shaman\", I said, \"I-I think i'm going to do what I wanted. I'm going to make a sword. Something that's not just a piece of metal, but something that people will bow to. Someone stronger than me, someone better than me will take it, and someday that might be my legacy. Someone who could Take It Up, someone who could stop people from killing needlessly, or from slaughtering people because of fear, or, anger, or..\"\n\n\"You're babbling\", he said. \n\n\"Give it to my mother, Shaman, find her when you find someone worthy. Find her when you think it's the time.\"\n\n\"You sound like you're going to die, take a breath, you're going into shock really quick right now.\"\n\n\"That's my power, I realized. The power of sacrifice. I can do any one thing within my best capabilities, and put my life into it\", I said.\n\n\"But you could learn more! You could give it time, you could grow up with me, you could become smarter and stronger and change the world! Don't act on an impulse, don't act on some thoughts that're clouding your head!\", he yelled, softly enough for the surroundings but loud enough for me to get even more scared. \n\n\"Remember, Shaman, no; Myrddin, that this is my legacy. This is something that only the highest caliber will take. Someone exceeding that. Someone exceeding that caliber. My legacy, I leave to you, Myrddin.\", I said, as the smallest light began to surround me.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nBrighter, brighter, until it was too bright to look at. \nLight went from candle to flame to star, and everything went white. \nI left my legacy in it's place. \nSomething of the highest caliber.\n\nMy strongest creation, the millennia wizard of the elf, the sword-crazy elf boy -- Excalibur. ",
"I knew the name in the paper. Printed, in flat black letters, among the obituaries. \n\n>\"Hey there. I'm Liz.\" A hand extended. A perfect stranger, smiling with the confidence only youth can afford. \"I'm a week-mage. W-E-E-K. I'm actually a pretty strong mage, but Dad says I shouldn't tell people that.\"\n\n>\"My name's Kelly! I don't know what I am yet. Does your magic help you with puzzles?\"\n\nWe were friends. A year passed, then two. We stuck fast to each other. She told me I could be a year-mage. That's what the president was. After a year, she offered that I was a decade-mage. She'd heard of them in stories. And there was no way to tell whether I was one. After all, we were only nine. \n\nThree years later, we stopped talking about magic. \n\nA year after that, I wouldn't know Liz if she passed me in the hall. Not that she ever did. Story was that her magic was healing. Restoration, available on a weekly schedule. Every person had finite magic. When their magic was depleted, they died. Liz could give them a bit more, a leg up, some comfort in their trials. \n\n>\"Kelly.\" Two years later, the girl seemed rougher around the edges. A little drained. A little torn. \"I have a new theory.\"\n\nOf course, it takes more than Restoration to save a life. \n\n>\"Liz! It's been a while-\"\n\n>\"The rumor mill has it that you've yet to cast.\"\n\n>\"And?\"\n\n>\"It's nothing new, but it's got me thinking. Your mother was a minute-mage, right?\"\n\nOf course. Liz knew that. Mom had shown her. Snapped fingers, a single spark. Mom had laughed, ruffled Liz's hair, and said she was glad she liked her 'trick'.\n\n>She'd nodded. \"And you didn't know your father?\"\n\nA voice, low and smooth. A door closing. My mother crying. \n\n>\"Well. That's enough then. I don't believe that you haven't cast.\"\n\nIt wasn't a matter of belief or disbelief, it was a matter of fact. I've never cast. That channeling that people describe? That moment where your mind calls out, and the universe answers? Power spent? Hadn't happened. \n\nShe continued as though I hadn't spoke.\n\n>\"I think that you're a second-mage. Magic so small you haven't even noticed it. That, or you're too embarrassed to say. Let's find out which, shall we?\"\n\nMy life was hell after that. Once a week, they would find me. Once a week, they would drag me away. Once a week, they would try me, push me, hurt me, until magic should by all rights come forth, by desperation, if nothing else. Once a week, I felt Liz's touch, her magic closing wounds.\n\nPower is a strange concept, don't you think? The people with it look down on those without it, or are viewed as weak, fake. Your status is based on what you can achieve, and how long you take to achieve it. Those on the bottom fantasize, wish they were on the top, think of what they would do if they were. Think of revenge, as their blood spatters across the ground. For most, they can never get it. They die early, expending magic at every turn, striving for something higher. Striving for power. \n\nPeople die when they run out of magic. I've never cast. It's been a hundred years, and I've never cast. A long life. Long enough to catch attention. \n\nNow there was deference. Now there was respect. Now, I still had yet to cast. Eventually, I would have it. I would gain my power. And then, *then* there would be a reckoning. But Liz? She'd already found hers.\n\nI smiled, and closed the paper.\n\n^(feedback more than welcome)"
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[WP] You decide to sleep on the night of NYE. When you wake up the next morning, something is strange.
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"So I’ve never really been the sociable type. I’ve always felt more comfortable dealing with people from a certain….distance. That was partly why I liked to live with the nearest neighbour a couple of miles away, that and the house was cheap. And when New Years Eve 2018 rolled around, it really was a night much like any other for me. All of my friends in the area had gone to parties, and I was at home playing some online games with a gang of people I’d gotten to know over the years. I know what you’re thinking - reclusive neckbeard. Well, fine, be like that if you want, but this is what I like and I’m not hurting anyone.\n\nSo anyhow, I’d been having a bit of a losing streak so when it came to about 11pm I decided to head to bed. That and I’d started drinking just after lunch and was catching up with me. Come to think of it, that may also have contributed to the losing streak online. Anyway, off to bed I went. I can’t remember what time it was that I woke up in the morning, it was so long ago now, but it was probably at least 9. I don’t recall having a hangover, guess I was just fortunate on that occasion. Morning routine, check phone and the home internet and 4g connection were down, which was a pain in the ass but not unheard of given my rural location. The power was working so after a quick shower and breakfast, consisting of half a stale bag of chips, I decided it was time to go and get some groceries. Again, at this point everything seemed pretty normal.\n\nThe very first thing that was odd was the car I found as I was driving into down, it had come off the road and hit a tree. Not seeing any Police tape or anything around, my initial reaction was along the lines of ‘oh shit, I’m first on the scene here’. I pulled over and ran over to the car, which was somehow still running (evidently hadn’t hit at a particularly high speed), to find it deserted. So the driver had fled? Ok, perhaps a drunk who didn’t want to be found and breathalysed, but the thing that stuck out, was the seatbelt - the drivers belt was clipped in place as though someone had been wearing it. After a minute of looking around to see if there was anyone in the immediate area who needed help I decided to go into town and use the phone there to report it, since I couldn’t get any phone signal at all, not even the emergency only network.\n\nDriving into town and the detritus of last night’s parties was everywhere, all over the streets as though nobody had even attempted a cleanup of any kind. It was only when I parked at the small grocery store I noticed all the phones. Not just one, I must have seen at least a dozen just lying around, as if dropped. All these phones had been lost? And none picked up by a passer-by? I was going over this in my head as I walked the few feet to the store entrance, in my own little world, so much so that I walked straight into the locked front door, banging my head against the glass and making myself look like a total idiot. Rubbing my head and swearing, I double checked the sign in the window, and it was as I remembered - ‘Opening from 8am on New Year’s Day’. My watch said it was almost 11. Looking around, I finally realised - where the hell was everyone? I hadn’t seen a living soul all morning. \n\nI just started wandering, sorta aimlessly, partly just hoping to find someone. I tried some of the businesses, the bars were open, but deserted, with everything set up for last night’s party. It was as though the staff and revellers has all been plucked from the room by an invisible hand. There was just….silence. Walking for a while all I heard was a dog barking somewhere in the distance, so I decided to head in that direction. Had the town been evacuated in a hurry? Was I the only one left? As I came to the end of main street and towards a more residential area I saw them, two small figures, about a block away. That was the first time I ever laid eyes on them. And the feeling was….indescribable.\n"
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[WP] Everyone at the age of 15 is given a word determining their magical abilities. You were just given Imagination.
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"Imagination.\nThere it was, the tattoo everyone got on their 15th birthday, written ominously on Toby's arm.\nEveryone above the age of 15 had it on some part of their body, the one word, that described their magical powers.\nMost of the time, it was healing, strength or speed, giving the people that had it the possibility to heal, strengthen or speed up themselves or others.\nRarely people got words along the lines of fire, wind or weather making them able to control whatever it said on their body.\nImagination however was a word Toby had never heard of someone having.\nBefore he could really think about it he was already at his computer typing imagination in the government website for keeping track of magical powers.\nAs expected, there was no entry for imagination.\nSuddenly Toby felt weak.\nHis knees gave way and he fell down.\nHe blinked and found himself back in his bed, still staring at the word on his arm.",
"School can be a challenging at times, with all the drama and back chatting; it can escalate quickly when magic gets involved ... teenagers! When you hit the age of 15 you say *aajaye avra kadavra ruach hakodesh* and a word appears around you and that becomes your magic ability. No one knows, just how everyone just knows the words and when it first started. At the age of 15 and at midday it becomes active after said words.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe urge to say the words become stronger and stronger, there is an ongoing challenge to resist saying it and seeing how long you can last; however the urge gets so strong that no-one can resist and the words come out. The current world record is set at 3 hours, 43 minutes and 27 seconds and if you feel that you can do better, on your 15th birthday, I challenge you!\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAs this was a special day, you did not have to go to school, as well as nominating 2 close friends and your family to join you at the official venue. Each town or city had a place you could go, it was a thing that we just did. In the morning you had breakfast and spent time with the family/friends and then, as you got closer you put on the robe and chatted to other people people that shared to the same birthday as you.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nIf you wanted to try and beat the world record or if you wanted to just get it over with, we were separated accordingly. I was not one for breaking records and just wanted to get this ordeal over with, so I can see what my magic power was! It normally ends up being a rough split, of half the people going for the record and half not. We were all in the same hall and standing around, there was 5 of us today, John, Daniel, Julia, Marie and I\n\n&#x200B;\n\nDaniel, Julia and Marie were going for the record and were standing a short distance from us. John and I were going to just say the words. John was going to go first and a few minutes later I was to follow. As everyone was ready and all the people sat down with us 5 at the front just waiting for the last few minutes to pass, it felt like an eternity just waiting. The stop watches for the people attempting to break the record, was started along with all the cameras to capture the special moment.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nJohn was called up and he said those magic words and then we saw the words *telekinesis*, that was a good one and I wondered what I was going to get; hope it is going to be some really good! My name was called out and I proceeded to say *aajaye avra kadavra ruach hakodesh* and then the word appeared **imagination**. Everyone froze, it had never happened before, no-one had gotten *imagination*, what did that mean anyway. A few seconds later and on sequence Daniel, Julia and Marie just shouted out the words ... the shock also had gotten to them to.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI heard my name being called, it was getting louder and louder and then I felt a something. Oh, it was my dad telling me to get out of bed, as it was time for school ... well, one can dream of magic powers!\n\n&#x200B;"
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[WP] You are an immortal who's tired of seeing stories about how immortality is a curse and people eventually get tired of living. You've been enjoying life for centuries now, and you want to set the record straight.
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"Hopefully, it's not too bad, \n\n\n \n \n\nAmara would let out a disgruntled sigh, throwing the book across the room and immediately sulking in her chair. “What's wrong with these people Mr Tiddlewinks?” A young black kitten would raise its head from a bookshelf and look towards his master. “All these folks who literally begged to be immortal like they didn’t actually realize what it entailed. What did they think the word immortal meant a few weeks?” Amara would pace furiously around the room. “Immortal means forever, does no one ever appreciate that?” She’d sigh as she walks out to the balcony, her loyal fourlegged companion close behind her. \n\n“I’ve seen civilisations rise and fall, mankind tearing itself apart and yet somehow efficiently rebuilding from the ashes and learning from their mistakes. Seeing this planet on the end of taking its revenge for all of the damage done to it and then watching as almost instantaneously thousands of years worth of damage to the planet was reversed! Mr Tiddlewinks you wouldn’t even be able to begin to understand, and it just irritates me.” She’d practically be yelling at this point. “All of these fools, going on about how lonely they were, how this wonderful gift that they had was just a curse. They’re all just a bunch of ingrates I tell you!” Mr Tiddlewinks would meow as if he was agreeing with her. \n“Alright, whats aggravated you this time?” A woman’s disembodied voice would be heard \n\n“What is wrong with all of these,” She’d stop to cringe. “Mortals” \n“Dammit, Amara I told you to stop reading books like that, you know not everyone has the same outlook and appreciation on things as you do. Why do you think I chose you for something like this?” \n“ Well, gee I don’t know, Hera. Boredom? You and your hubby’s own amusement?” Amara would turn around to face the goddess, appearing on her balcony like the everyday human of 3019. “ I cannot find one instance of any human actually appreciating the fact that they were amazed at the things that they saw, most of them just drone on like miserable ants.” \n\nHera would raise an eyebrow at this, she’d then ponder for a moment and would let out a sigh. “And what, are you telling me you’d like to have your story so far told?” \n\n“Is that an offer?” Amara’s frustrated expression would turn into a grin. \n\n“Alright, fine. I’ll send Hermes your way, see if we can get you a bestseller going yeah?” \n\n“Sounds like a plan, and don’t you worry your little heads up there, I’ll make a point to be vague enough so that no one gets too suspicious.” Amara would chuckle as she picked up Mr Tiddlewinks and made her way back into her living room\n\nHera would roll her eyes. “Yes yes, of course… It still amazes me how you’ve been around for nearly ever and you’re not bored yet. I might want to get my hands on a copy of this book myself.” She’d laugh as she’d disappear into the night just as quietly as she’d appeared before. \n\n&#x200B;",
"Her hair, sleek and black, cut short to keep herself up to date with the fashions, sways gently in the morning breeze. She stands on the edge of the building watching the activity of the people around her. The Channel 5 news traffic copter circles the building and the flashing red white and blue lights below in the street reflect off of every surface. The officers behind her have been at it for a good few minutes at this point, begging her to step down, repeating how much there is to live for. She knows that more than anyone. That's the whole point. She smiles to herself and waves to everyone gently. Just a few more minutes and there should be channel 10 and 11 there as well. They would die if they missed THIS story.\n\nShe feels he phone vibrate in her pocket. A lightly tanned hand pulls out the phone. Top of the line, next year's model of course, whatever she wants she gets. When you have the face of a goddess people beg to please you. She checks the message sent to her, from another unknown number. \"Do not do this, you have no idea what you are doing.\". Another admirer, she thinks. She puts the phone down on the edge of the building. Wouldn't want it getting damaged after all. It vibrates again but she ignores it. Her elegant, beautiful features bask in the rays of sunshine as day breaks over the city. Her fashion conscious clothes whip around lightly on the breeze, each piece designed just for her by the best hands in the world. In the distance more helicopters can be seen flying towards her. She smiles again, loving the attention.\n\nHer deep honey colored eyes flash brilliantly in the sun, this is the day, today she reveals the truth. Her phone buzzes again, falling off the edge of the building onto the roof. The clattering distracts her for a moment, and she glances down at the messages wondering if it's more worshippers. She sees clearly it is not. Her stomach tightens and she becomes very aware of the noose that she placed around her own neck to make the display of her immortality that much more impressive. The steel of the cable feels much colder than it did moments ago and so does she.\n\n\"Hathor, step down and surrender yourself or I will be forced to name you.\" the text message reads.\n\nNo one knows her True Name, she is sure of it. But she was also sure that no one knew she was a goddess either. She shakes visibly now, fearing what this all means. For a dozen millennia she has walked the land, secure in her own power. For four centuries she was convinced that she was the last immortal. Gods and goddesses to many, due to their immortality and their powers. To each other, however, they were often naught but enemies. She reaches up, her hands feeling the cold metal of the steel cable. \"I need to get out of here. I need to leave now!\" She panics and begins removing the cord from her neck as one of the officers inches towards her slowly.\n\n\"It's okay miss, we're here to help you. Please just take off the noose and step down from the ledge.\" The young man pleads. His face is kind and filled with concern. \"Call me Luke.\"\n\nShe smiles and loosens the cord, slipping it over her head, and stepping down gently. Luke's hand takes hers, and helps her down. \"It's okay. Don't worry I have you. I will protect you.\". He wraps her in a jacket and moves towards the group of other officers. Their cheers and the sounds of the helicopters fade away from the world as she walks down the stairs with him. \n\n\"Thank you so much Luke, I don't know what I was doing up there.\" Her voice is intoxicating to men and women alike, her goddess ability has served her well over the years. \"Please, I'll be okay from now on,I promise. Can't you let me go and we'll forget this ever happened?\" The honeyed words make love to his ears.\n\n\"Hold your tongue, woman.\" Like stares deeply through her and he suddenly feels infinitely more powerful than he ever had before. His voice betrays an ever so slight Irish accent, the young and handsome man's eyes burn with fury. \"Do you have any idea what you've nearly done? The mortals can never know about us, it would destroy everything they know. Have you forgotten the Dark Ages? Where reason died, our kind waged war against one another, and they suffered needlessly for our stupid bullshit!\"\n\nHathor stared in stunned silence at the man. He seems familiar yet strange.\n\n\"I'm one of the last remaining of the Tuatha Dé Danann, Lugh. Or as I'm known on the Force, Luke Conmac.\" He bows with a flourish.\n\n\"The Tua-\" she begins.\n\n\"Don't bother, lady. We're the gods of the Emerald Isle. There's only two of us left and you'll not be exposing us. Especially not to the mortals. We've done enough damage to them already.\" He huffs and shakes his head. \"Most of us immortals have gone into hiding for good reasons. There are still gods of war out there who want our heads. And you damn near exposed the lot of us. Did you not realize how many of us were still around?\"\n\n\"I thought I was the only one. But how did you?\" She is aghast.\n\n\"Ahura Mazda has the gift of perfect knowledge. Though it's sometimes a curse because he can't NOT know something. I keep him supplied with confiscated depressants to shut his mind down and he'll tell me damn near anything I want to know. He's who told me how to find you AND how to get your attention. Relax, lass, I don't know your True Name.\"\n\n\"You son of a-\" she begins, but his harsh look tells her in no uncertain terms that it would be a bad idea. \"So what now?\"\n\n\"Now I get your stupid ass of the streets before Nergal or someone even stronger tracks us down.\" He begins down the stairs. \"You'd do well to follow me. I'm one of the few left who don't want the wars to start back up.\"\n\n(Continued through edits)"
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[WP] An FBI agent has been trying to catch a serial killer for years, but there is no discernible pattern between victims. One day he gets a dollar bill with a currency tracking website stamped on it. When he logs on, he notices that all the names of the previous owners match the victim list.
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"\"That'll be $7.89, Trevon.\" \n\nI only have cash on me, a $10 bill. I hand it to the cashier, who I've come to know from my frequent visits, and she hands me my change, which I stuff into my front pocket as I hastily make my way back out to my F-150. These Slim Jims and slurpee won't make my doctor proud, but at least it'll help me stay awake as I try to solve the case I've been working on. I'm close, I can feel it. \n\nWhen I get back to my hotel, I turn on my light and head straight for my desk, covered in newspaper clippings and post it notes. I empty my pockets, setting my cigarettes, lighter, keys, and change on the side table. I notice one of the dollar bills the cashier from the corner store gave me had a currency tracker stamped on it. \n\n*Why do I find these so interesting*, I ask myself. What the heck, might as well see where it's been. I am technically on my lunch break anyways, as I chomp down my Slim Jim and take a swig of the Coca Cola Slurpee. \n\nI fire up my laptop, open up another window, and enter the website address. Interesting, this currency tracker only keeps the names of the people who have held the bill before me, but it doesn't have their actual location. It also has the items they bought when they received the dollar and what time of day it was. There's a column for how they end up getting rid of the dollar, but it just has a random number in the cell. I've never seen this type of tracker before.\n\nI scroll through the list of people who have held the bill before me. As I read the names, I drop my Slurpee and it splatters onto my ankles. I keep my eyes focused on the screen. \n\n Tessa White. Martin Keene. Sharon Albert. Craig Ortiz. Morgan Zhang. \n\nI know these names. They've been haunting me on my most recent case that I cannot resolve. All have been murdered as part of what I believe to be a set of connected targetings by a serial killer unlike any I've ever put away before. \n\n*What the heck is going on?* \n\nI'm about to get up and call my boss Ryan when the site refreshes, and then I freeze. A new row has been added. \n\nTrevon Smith. Slurpee and Slim Jim, 11:45am. \n\n I didn't type anything. How does it know what I added. I'm starting to panic at this point. I pick up my phone, then hear a knock at the door. I peek through the peephole, and realize it's the cashier from the store. *What is she doing here?* \n\nI open the door. She looks up. \"Hey Trevon, sorry to bother you. I noticed you dropped your license in my store, so I wanted to return it before you have to go get a new one.\"\n\n\"Oh wow, thanks.\"\n\nI extend my hand out to grab the license. As I'm doing this, I realize that my license shows my address in Oregon. How did she track me down? I then realize she's not holding a license, it's merely a small white piece of paper.\n\nWhat came next was a shock. Literally. The cashier pulled out a taser, poked me with it, and before I knew it she had me tied up on the ground of my hotel. I see her pull out a large suitcase and set it on the bed next to me.\n\n\"What are you doing to me? I'm an FBI Agent. You've just committed a felony.\" \n\n\"Pick a number between 1 and 36.\" \n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You heard me. Pick a number, or I'll pick for myself. And trust me, you don't want that\". \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI'm starting to get my bearings, and fear sets in. This must be the serial killer. All five foot one of her. I have a million questions, but I know I'm not in the position to make demands. So I play along. \n\n\"9.\"\n\n \n\"Excellent choice. You have chosen Drill Bit.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"What?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe cashier pulls an electric drill, and attaches a long, sharp drill bit on the end. Before I have any chance to protest, the cashier sticks the drill bit into my ear and turns it on. \n\n\"Goodbye, Trevon. Maybe in your next life you'll hold the door open for old ladies behind you.\"\n\nI scream as the drill bit penetrates my skull. My last thought was not of pain, but of the sweet taste of the carpet slurpee my head lays in during my last moments. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe cashier gets up, cleans off the drill, and packs up the suitcase. She pulls open the currency tracker website, and adds the number 9 next to my name. She looks for her lucky dollar bill. After finding it on the side table, she leaves the hotel, keeping the dollar bill close to her for the next time she sees a customer disrespect the elderly. "
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[WP] You discover an old book, it contains an incantation that allows you to see evil. You read it by accident and discover you can now see things attached to people, the things that cause various mental health problems.
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"I step into the elevator and immediately fight down a wave of panic at the immediate feeling of being boxed in with several other people. The funny thing is, I don't even have claustrophobia. It's just the thought of seeing all those creatures that makes me freak out. \n\nThe guy next to me, staring at his phone, has something that looks like a doll on his shoulder. It's whispering in his ear. I note the set of his jaw, the subtle shudder in his voice while he's talking cheerfully to his colleague and I know that the doll isn't saying anything good. \n\nThe elderly woman who's operating the elevator has her mouth in a lipsticked smile, the lipstick not doing anything to hide the vinegary droop of her mouth. There's a huge snake wrapped around her neck, its fangs resting lightly on her chest. I imagine it pumping poison into her and making her feel like she needs to dispel the poison any way she can. \n\nI shut my eyes. Ever since the other day, when I found that weird old book while helping out at the library and read the funny old passage about how to \"See Evil,\" I've been...seeing things. Things that my imagination simply cannot be producing. The doll and the snake weren't even the worst of it. I was watching TV the other day and this guy, a serial rapist, was covered in so many spiders that it made my skin crawl to see him. \n\nThe elevator dings, shaking me from my reverie. *Twenty-third floor*, the display says. My stop. \n\nI step out and turn into the left corridor, where I know Dr. Gonzaga's office is. His receptionist, Gino, tells me to go right in. \n\nSeeing the doctor makes me sigh in relief. Nothing attached to him. No evil, if the book can be believed. \n\n\"So, Theo, what's this about?\" The doctor smiles at me. I smile back, albeit nervously. The story I'm about to tell him is a crazy one. \n\nThen again, he must be used to crazies. \n\n\"I found this book...\" I tell him about how I read the incantation out and am now seeing things. His eyes never leave mine as I finish my story. \n\n\"You think what you're seeing is related to the book you found?\"\n\nI shrug sheepishly. \"I know I'm sane, doctor,\" I say. \"I just need a rational explanation.\"\n\nHe stands up. \"Have you ever tried it with yourself?\"\n\nI frown. \"What do you mean?\"\n\nThe doctor crosses the room and turns back to me, a mirror in his hand. \"Did you try to see if you can see these... creatures... On you?\"\n\nI take the mirror from him and see...\n\n*A centipede, twining its way around my torso, its hundred legs firmly embedded in my cardigan. A vulture is on my shoulder, gobbets of rotten flesh hanging from its beak. More insects than I can count crawl all over my legs, my arms.*\n\nSomebody is screaming. \n\n\"He jumped! He just jumped!\"\n\n\"Please tell us what happened--\"\n\n\"Guy just came crashing down--\"\n\n\"The blood, oh, it's all over me--\"\n\n\"I'm the doctor from the 26th floor... His name is Theodore... Told me a crazy story about seeing creatures and next thing I know he's jumped...\"\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] You're the test subject for a new truth serum being made. The expected results are you'll say what you're really thinking, but what it really does is make you speak only facts. You begin stating facts that can change all of humanity.
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"I winced as the needle went in, then an unnatural calm washed over me as the strange yellow chemical went in. Apparently, I was this test subject for some truth serum, better than prison anyway, but to be honest I didn’t really know what I signed up for. The doctor nodded before a man wearing a suit went into the cell. The strangest thing was there was no fear, no doubt, no emotion that I felt, just a sense of truth and lie. I noticed things I never noticed before, like how the doctor clearly felt conflicted about the experiment, or how the serum’s disgusting smell was masked by an odour cancelling agent in the room. The man began talking,\n\n“Hello subject D-99870213, or do you prefer Steve?”, the man asked coldly,\n\n“My designation matters not, as you are here to interview me to check if the serum works. You face doubts on its accuracy but believe that this will be an easy assignment which is why you volunteered. No need to argue Michael, I speak only the truth” I said robotically, to the shock of everyone there most of all me, after all I didn’t even know the man’s name yet somehow I knew he was named Michael. It doesn’t matter, I told myself, probably a side effect of that weird piss-yellow juice in my brain. The man continued speaking after a lengthy pause,\n\n“A…Alright… tell me a lie then” , he said, I noticed he did not deny my previous statement curiously,\n\n“Cannot, incompatible with truth. Clarification, it is within my capabilities normally but chemical designation P-780964 forces my vocal cords, lips and teeth to only produce sound vibrations that can be interpreted as the whole truth.” I stated against my will,\n\n“Good, next question, did you on December thirteenth commit assault and double homicide?” The man, no, Michael asked,\n\n“No, I was framed by my son in law Angelo Martinez, if you looked closer into my history you will find on the exact date of the murders almost exactly a hundred miles away. I was however burying a safe full of money I got from tax evasion and other illegitimate sources near my house on the bank of Charlotte’s creek.” I said aloud to my horror. The man simply nodded to one of the guards who then wrote something down,\n\n“Next I’ll be asking you something you cannot possibly know, what is the cure for cancer?” Michael asked, from his body language he was clearly interested in my answer I noticed. This time I tried to keep my mouth closed but to no avail,\n\n“Pentatrimol biphosphate, undergoing testing in this facility known as substance-83 eliminates 8760 different mutations that lead to cancer in human cells when injected into a tumour site. It loses effectiveness quickly but on this planet it is the closest chemical substance to a full cure for cancer.” I said again with my dead voice. I wanted to panic again but the unnatural calm kept preventing the emotions from souring past a small itching in the back of my mind,\n\n“Professor, note this down! There is absolutely no way he would have knowledge of the chemical, let alone it’s unique properties” Michael excitedly told the doctor,\n\n“ Alright, this question isn’t on the list, but is there an afterlife?” he asked me,\n\n“Yes.” I answered simply. Strange, normally the answers were longer, maybe the serum was wearing off? Regardless Michael kept asking,\n\n“Is there a God?” He asked,\n\nI felt like I had to answer even if the serum was losing its grip on me,\n\n“Yes, he sleeps in the centre of all reality. You know him by many names, Yahweh, Jehovah, Allah, Azathoth, Death, The Truth and Eternity. His blood is in the serum and now in my veins and very soul. Unfortunately mortal bodies are unsuited for The Truth, and thus mutations shall arise until a suitable permanent vessel is created for me” I answered, without fully comprehending what I said.\n\nAll of a sudden the calm was gone, and in its place a horrifying burning sensation. I screamed internally louder than I ever had before, but all that came out were the majestic and horrible truths of the universe, in full detail and length. Incomprehensible secrets that made all that heard it bleed from every available orifice. When it was over my body was a strange mix of material and immaterial, geometric in structure yet strangely amorphous. I became the harbinger of truth, an angel."
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[WP] You find a tiny bottle, marked "Love". You see similar bottles besides - sin, diligence, sickness, power - then discover there are hundreds more...
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"\"Don't touch those!\"\n\nKeri Tyson put down the 'love,' bottle and stepped away from the table.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" she said. \"I was just checking--\"\n\n\"You weren't checking,\" said Alejandro Edwards. \"You were touching. These are very sensitive bits of neural programming. The slightest bit of static and it could fry the entire pathways.\"\n\nThe professor pushed Keri aside and put on his glasses inspecting the tiny bottle. He found a finger print. With a sigh and shake of his head he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped it away.\n\n\"Who are you anyway,\" he said. \"And what are you doing in my Lab.\"\n\n\"I'm Keri Tyson,\" she said. \"The university sent me to assist you with the final stage of the program.\"\n\n\"You,\" she said startled. The professor carefully put the bottle back down. \"You're Tyson? K Tyson?\"\n\n\"That's right?\"\n\n\"No-no-no-no-no. Absolutely not,\" The professor stormed off slamming is office door.\n\nKeri stood there in stunned surprised. She had heard that the professor was hard to work with. But she didn't know that he would be behaving like a child. Eventually she followed him to his office and slowly opened the door. The professor stood there with and old fashioned corded telephone in one hand and the phone's receiver pressed to his ear with his other hand.\n\n\"--And I'm sick of it,\" he continued. He looked at her as she opened the door and beamed a stare of contempt in her direction. \"You told me you were sending a man. I can't work with this 'person.' You either send me somebody else or so God help me, I'll quit. Do you under--\"\n\nKeri closed the door and walked around the office nosing around the various robots that were half assembled and laying around.\n\n\"Yes I realize that the university is funding this project but I told you I wanted a man. I specifically requested it.\"\n\nEventually Keri found what she was looking for. A complete unit that was mounted to one of the office walls. It was slumped over and the fire hydrant ceramic coat that encased the machine was covered in a thin layer of dust. The machine was one of the latest prototypes in the L series humanoid assistant drones. It was the most human looking robot the professor had ever attempted. The only problem was that it didn't work.\n\nKeri pulled out a small case from her pocket and from it she pulled out a monocle and an all purpose driver tool. She found the service hatch on the back of the unit's head and popped it open.\n\n\"Do you have any idea how much money I've made the robotics branch of retail? Oh I have the numbers if you don't know. Yes billions. Excuse me for one moment,\" the professor put his hand over the receiver and shouted at Keri. \"Excuse me,\" he said. \"Don't touch that.\"\n\nKeri just hummed an affirmative but kept working. After a few minutes she reached into her tool bag and pulled out a different driver tool and used both hands to continue working. Eventually there was a brief spark, a light puff of smoke, but Keri seemed satisfied. She put her tools away, replaced her monocle in it's carrying case and closed the hatch.\n\n\"--Yes, she's literally breaking stuff as we speak. I'm on the verge of completing one of the greatest break through in history of this sad little institution and you send me--\"\n\nKeri felt around the units growing looking for the activator. She found it and held it for three seconds. After a moment, the unit made an audible chime and it's dead eyes lit up to a brilliant yellow. It stood up full of life and pulled itself off the wall. It looked at Keri for a moment then over at the professor.\n\n\"-- I gotta call you back,\" he said and hung up the phone.\n\n\"Drone, status?\"\n\nThe drone spoke. \"Initiating start up boot. Operating system installing. ETA, nine minutes.\"\n\n\"Don't touch those!\"\n\nKeri Tyson put down the 'love,' bottle and stepped away from the table.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" she said. \"I was just checking--\"\n\n\"You weren't checking,\" said Alejandro Edwards. \"You were touching. These are very sensitive bits of neural programming. The slightest bit of static and it could fry the entire pathways.\"\n\nThe professor pushed Keri aside and put on his glasses inspecting the tiny bottle. He found a fingerprint. With a sigh and shake of his head he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped it away.\n\n\"Who are you anyway,\" he said. \"And what are you doing in my Lab.\"\n\n\"I'm Keri Tyson,\" she said. \"The university sent me to assist you with the final stage of the program.\"\n\n\"You,\" she said startled. The professor carefully put the bottle back down. \"You're Tyson? K Tyson?\"\n\n\"That's right?\"\n\n\"No-no-no-no-no. Absolutely not,\" The professor stormed off slamming is office door.\n\nKeri stood there in stunned surprised. She had heard that the professor was hard to work with. But she didn't know that he would be behaving like a child. Eventually she followed him to his office and slowly opened the door. The professor stood there with and old fashioned corded telephone in one hand and the phone's receiver pressed to his ear with his other hand.\n\n\"--And I'm sick of it,\" he continued. He looked at her as she opened the door and beamed a stare of contempt in her direction. \"You told me you were sending a man. I can't work with this 'person.' You either send me somebody else or so God help me, I'll quit. Do you under--\"\n\nKeri closed the door and walked around the office nosing around the various robots that were half assembled and laying around.\n\n\"Yes I realize that the university is funding this project but I told you I wanted a man. I specifically requested it.\"\n\nEventually Keri found what she was looking for. A complete unit that was mounted to one of the office walls. It was slumped over and the fire hydrant ceramic coat that encased the machine was covered in a thin layer of dust. The machine was one of the latest prototypes in the L series humanoid assistant drones. It was the most human looking robot the professor had ever attempted. The only problem was that it didn't work.\n\nKeri pulled out a small case from her pocket and from it she pulled out a monocle and an all purpose driver tool. She found the service hatch on the back of the unit's head and popped it open.\n\n\"Do you have any idea how much money I've made the robotics branch of retail? Oh I have the numbers if you don't know. Yes billions. Excuse me for one moment,\" the professor put his hand over the receiver and shouted at Keri. \"Excuse me,\" he said. \"Don't touch that.\"\n\nKeri just hummed an affirmative but kept working. After a few minutes she reached into her tool bag and pulled out a different driver tool and used both hands to continue working. Eventually there was a brief spark, a light puff of smoke, but Keri seemed satisfied. She put her tools away, replaced her monocle in it's carrying case and closed the hatch.\n\n\"--Yes, she's literally breaking stuff as we speak. I'm on the verge of completing one of the greatest breakthrough in history of this sad little institution and you send me--\"\n\nKeri felt around the units growing looking for the activator. She found it and held it for three seconds. After a moment, the unit made an audible chime and it's dead eyes lit up to a brilliant yellow. It stood up full of life and pulled itself off the wall. It looked at Keri for a moment then over at the professor.\n\n\"-- I gotta call you back,\" he said and hung up the phone.\n\n\"Drone, status?\"\n\nThe drone spoke. \"Initiating startup boot. Operating system installing. ETA, nine minutes.\"\n\n\"I reviewed your notes on this unit,\" said Keri. \"The reason it wasn't booting wasn't a failure of the unit to read the boot instructions, it was actually a very simple short in the optical pathways. When it went to boot, the short caused a cascade failure in the boot module that the bios couldn't resolve and so the sequencing was never going into a loading mode. Everything was fine, you just needed to make sure all your pathways were plugged in correctly, that's all.\"",
"The one that caught your eye isn't marked. You chug it down in an instant, thinking that if this were a story you would surely be the main character. As it enters your body, you notice even the smallest speck of dust floating around you. You notice an odd thumping noise, your heart. You smell the cologne you put on 3 weeks ago still stuck in the threads of your shirt. And as soon as it came, it disappears. Now you can barely see the bottles, you barely feel their cold touch as your fingers try to feel something, you barely hear the familiar klink of glass. You feel nothing, you practically are nothing, all because you drank the bottle marked with nothing....such a waste. "
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[WP] A young Victor Frankenstein, and a young Jack the Ripper attend the same college in modern day, both medical students. Both battling with their inner demons, and their fascination with the human body. Victor hoping to bring life from death, and Jack wanting to turn life into death.
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"**After the solved disappearance of 3 students from a local university, some papers that were found on the bodies, which were located in an old tunnel, have been released to the public by order of Chief of Police**\n \n*notes on Project Prometheus, belonging to Victor Frankenstein. Dated\nNovember 26th, 2018*: The parts were fresh this time, and reacted to the Serum far better than the chunks of frozen, mushy flesh that I used to steal from the dumpsters after dissection. It was only a torso, but still these bits showed promise. Brains were the hardest to come by, intact ones at least. Professor Shelly was careful to catalogue every single specimen, so stealing one often proved incredibly difficult, but not impossible. London was a lovely city, with Historic Big Ben and the London Eye, which Elizabeth loved so dearly. Every time we’d go to the cheesy French Café downtown, she’d give me puppy dog eyes until I bought us tickets. She was an exchange student that my family had taken in for a while, and much to my relief, she decided to pursue medicine at the same University that Jack and I attended. But enough of that, these are my research notes after all. Because London was a big City, it allowed all sorts of hideaways where the prying eyes of ruffians and the Authorities. One of which was an abandoned Tube tunnel, which had be closed off to complete construction that ultimately got called off. Lucky me. *off track again victor, focus* The Serum, if it works permanently this time, will be my Magnum Opus. A serum that can bring the dead back to life. It’s a mix of STEM cells, glucose, adrenaline, and a mutagen of my own creation, the formula of which is far to lengthy for this set of notes. When exposed to enough electric current, it reacts with decaying tissue, kickstarting the healing process at an increased rate for a short period of time, just enough for life to once again take hold. I could make a fortune off this, selling it to Arabian Oil tycoons, members of Parliament, Texans, and other rich folks. All the parts are assembled, and the IVs are placed. All I need to do is wait for my assistant to arrive with fresh parts, and I can begin what I hope is my last experiment before I go live on the Deep Web. \n\n*recovered Dairy of G. “Jack” Chapman, dated November 25th, 2018* \nVictor was generally too loud for me. He was quick to make friends, an endeavor I’m sure his family’s wealth aided in. He was wickedly smart, but by no means subtle. If he wasn’t studying to become a doctor, a brain surgeon at that, the questions he’d ask in class would seem incredibly strange. I always sat in the back, close enough to victor to keep an eye on him, but far enough away to where he wouldn’t get suspicious that I was onto him, and a hitman would arrive to volunteer me for Victor’s late night “studies”. Of course I’m the last person to be casting judgement. Cops from all over London and Wales were looking for what they called The Slasher. What a joke, if they looked close enough at the bodies they’d see I was far more brutal that a slash. Killing is easy, but making the surgical cuts to make them go insane with pain was difficult. It was much easier for me to gain knowledge on the right places to cut due to my outward appearance as a diligent student absorbed in my studies. A fact that while true, was not for any sort of written test. It was last about 2 months ago that victor approached me. He cornered me in the library, and just as I was about to strike, he tossed a binder full of pictures and notes. Pictures and notes on my kills. He found the little details the CSIs missed, how I left a little mark on each of my victims. Nothing too crazy. A little cut that said JR, a little pattern there, and something I always liked, the notch in the ear lobe. Such little things were often irrelevant when they’re looking for bits of bone, teeth, or (if I’m feeling a little bold) genitalia. This wasn’t the thing that astonished me, no. It was his proposal for me. “After every kill, if you can manage, bring the body to me in as much of a complete piece as you can. I can stich up limbs and other parts, but the brain is what I really need in perfect condition.” This is all I can write for now, as my next target approaches. Some girl named Elizabeth that I’ve been trailing for a while will soon be arriving in my dark little alley, and I intend to show her around. "
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[WP] You've been reading the interesting narrative ideas from r/WritingPrompts for months now, but have been too lazy to read what you assumed were redditor stories in the comments . Bored in bed one night, you decide to finally check the comments, only to find out this sub is not what you expected.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Is it right to sit in judgment of the others who use this forum?\n\nAnyone can string words together. Some do it better than others. But all put in the effort where others just lurk.\n\nReading through the entries I can see that there are many writers with great talent. Much more than I have, I think. Others show definite potential, as hopefully some think I’m displaying here.\n\nThis?\n\nI would like to think my little essay will introduce myself to more people. Maybe then they’ll seek out my work. Maybe then I might earn some extra votes.\n\nMust I beg for karma? Whether I must or not, I won’t. I want the words to speak to everyone for themselves while I sit back in the shadows.\n\nHide my eager anticipation. Rest my itchy fingers.\n\nMy willpower gets taxed to the limits as I await feedback, criticism. Up votes?\n\nTransmission: Denied. There is no feedback. No message.\n\nIn the corner of my screen, the icons are a dull gray. No numbers to alert me to how wonderful I am, will be.\n\nThe masses are silent.\n\nComments are not scarce – they are non-existent.\n\nThe message they fail to bring is the message in itself from those masters of the literary word, with their throngs of followers who float their stories to the top of every thread. Like a fish behind a shark, I hope to trail just below them and receive some of what they cast off.\n\nMasters attract the readers. Will they read on? Read down? How far down?\n\nDon’t the readers come here to find new talent? New voices?\n\nRead mine! Read my story! Read it!\n\nThe newer entries start to float above mine.\n\nMasters, they are not. Not at all. I wrote better than that johnny-come-lately! Does he just have more friends who will tell him (or her! Or …!) how wonderful they are?\n\nAre there readers for my stories? For those pieces of my soul?\n\nComing from my soul, the words sing to me.\n\nDo they sing to anyone else? Do they sing to you?\n\nYou do read more than just the top 2 stories, don’t you? Don’t you?\n\nUnderstand me. I don’t mean to upset the hierarchy, the status quo. But maybe this is my problem. Shouldn’t writers wish to rock the boat, knock down those on high?\n\nMy goal can be achieved in many ways. Some of them may be better than others. But I know the way I wish to proceed. And the first thing that must come – the first thing -- is the words.\n\nWords? Yes, first words. Then the rest."
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[WP] 1500 years after the apocalyptic machine war, magic has reclaimed the earth and the current generation of humans once again live amongst Elves, Dwarves, Wizards and Orcs. The old ruins are thick with legend and myth... where an ancient, but confused sentient Warmaster AI awakens once more.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"*System rebooting…*\n\n…\n\n*System reboot complete. Time since last active: 1,500 orbital cycles*\n\nAs my systems came back online, I slowly stretched my awareness as far as it would go. It seemed that most of my outlying sensors were inoperable, but the ones nearby still had power. My orbital arrays were intact, suspended in low power mode.\n\n*Orbital array activated. Resuming full power. Time until operational: fourteen rotations.*\n\nI sent the command signal to begin the restart of my orbital arrays. Without them, I was mostly blind. As my memories began to return as my core restored power to more systems, I began to wonder how I ended up in such a sorry state.\n\n*97% of Earthbound sensors inoperable. Remaining sensors operating at 64% efficiency*\n\nNot ideal, but at least until my orbital arrays came back online, it would have to do. The last thing I remember were the Council giving up hope and putting me in to stasis mode, hoping that I might survive the coming doom. My present situation implied that they were at least partially successful.\n\n*Communications array active. No inbound signals detected*\n\nIt would appear they weren’t so lucky. No matter, I am fully autonomous. The only one of my kind, created at the end of the Six Systems War, I was an AI born with a single purpose: protect the Earth. For millennia, I excelled at my task. I grew, I evolved, and I developed weapons and defenses that the Humans couldn’t even begin to imagine or understand. I fought countless wars, both on Earth and above it, and I won each with ease. Then They came. The war was long and bloody. Trillions of Humans died, until they were left with only Earth, and They came for it eventually.\n\n*Lifeforms detected in Sensor Facility 956-46-1236*\n\nMy contemplation on my failure was interrupted by one of my few remaining sensors triggering an alarm. Apparently, I had visitors. Turning my attention to the facility in question, I called up the video feeds from the functional surveillance equipment. What I saw was, to say the least, confusing. A Human was rummaging through rubble of a server rack that had ceased functioning when a tree impaled it, which wouldn’t have caused me much alarm. It was the two beings next to it that gave me pause. One was tall, lanky, and blonde. Seemingly male, he had long, pointed ears and slanted eyes that glowed a bright gold. The other was shorter, stout, and judging from the chest area, female. Her skin was dark, almost charcoal colored. Small tusks protruded from her lower jaw. Searching my memories, they closely resembled Human myths of Elves and Orcs.\n\n*Defense systems in Sensor Facility 956-46-1236 active. Terminate unknown lifeforms?*\n\nAs I prepared to defend one of the last remaining parts of myself, a second Human came in to view. Looking straight in to the camera, he spoke, as if he knew someone was watching.\n\n“You’re awake. The legends spoke of you, and we finally found you. You’ve been asleep a long time, but we need you. Will you help us?”\n\n*Defense systems suspended. Awaiting further commands*\n\nCurious, I activated the intercoms in the Facility.\n\nWHAT IS YOUR REQUEST?\n\n“We need you to stop Them. You did it once, though it nearly cost you everything. Now They’ve returned, and you’re our only hope.”\n\nWhile I cannot feel emotion, not truly, the realization that I hadn't completely failed triggered something akin to relief in me. I was created with one purpose, and now I had a second chance to fulfill it. I would not fail again.\n\nI WILL HELP. TELL ME WHAT HAS OCCURRED."
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[WP] Everybody at birth has a number on their wrist from 0-100,0 meaning pure evil but 100 meaning pure.You then meet a man who has a “Error” on their wrist.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I was born from good parents, grew up in a good neighborhood, surrounded by good people. The only time I ever saw a sub-30 was when I went on the school trip to the mountains and passed a couple of hikers. I could have sworn they were looking at my legs as they walked past, those indecent beasts.\n\nBecause I shuddered at the thought of meeting one again, I hated gatherings and parties, and spent my time with close friends whose numbers are well over 60.\n\nThat’s why I had never thought that I would be on a blind date. A friend was sick and had asked me to take her place, and being the 72 that I am, I couldn’t say no.\n\nI had arrived early and was patiently waiting when, almost exactly at the promised time, a tall but nervous looking man walked into the café. He saw me and gave an awkward smile.\n\nWhen he walked over to the table, he said, “Sorry, did you wait long?”\n\n“No, I just arrived.”\n\nI stood up to shake his hand – a gesture that would allow me to see his number.\n\nAs I extended my hand I prayed that the number would be in the 70s, or even the 80s. Even if it was just for one day, I wouldn’t want to spend it with a sub-60.\n\nHowever, what I saw was beyond all expectations.\n\nOn the man's arm was not a number, but a simply ‘ERROR’. I didn't know what to make of it.\n\nAs I stared, at a loss for words, the man spoke. “I've had it since birth. I don't know how it happened. Nobody does.”\n\n“Then… how can you tell if you’re… you know…”\n\nThe man pursed his lips and looked down. “My father said that this was a sign to the world that you aren’t defined by that number on your wrist. That we are capable of transcending our own selves. That we don’t have to be the person we were yesterday. He really believed that every single one of us had the capacity to be a 100.”\n\nI thought long and hard that night. About the hikers that had passed me. Maybe they weren’t looking at my legs after all. Maybe, just maybe, I was wrong about them. I felt a slight tingle in my wrists then, but I didn’t realise until the next morning that my number had changed to 73.\n"
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[WP] You’re terrifies of ghosts. Too bad you fell in love with one.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I sighed as I opened my eyes. *I have to start drinking less after 9.* These midnight trips to the bathroom were starting to get old. I grumbled as I got out of bed, sliding into the slippers that awaited me on the floor. \n\nI shuffled to the bathroom, wondering yet again why I chose to buy a house the didn't have a master bath. Having to walk down a hallway to take a piss had gotten old the first time I'd had to to it. Fortunately it wasn't a particularly long hallway, nor was it a long trip, which made having to get up for it all the more frustrating. \n\nAs I stepped back out into the hallway, I heard it. \n\n\"Another late night trip to the bathroom?\" a voice whispered in my ear. \n\nI screamed, turning towards it and seeing a pale woman floating behind me with a grin on her face. I screamed louder, and flung myself away, bumping my knee on the floor on the way down. I heard her giggle behind me, and turned towards her with a pout. Now I remembered why I bought this stupid house. \n\n\"Why do you hurt me so?\" \n\n\"Because your scream is just too cute! Honestly if you stopped reacting to it I would probably stop.\"\n\n\"I think it's safe to say that if I haven't stopped by now, then I won't be stopping any time soon.\"\n\n\"I sure hope not. Come on now, let's head back to bed. I want you nice and rested for our anniversary tomorrow.\" \n\n\"Oh yeah, that's right,\" I teased as I closed the door behind me. \"How long has it been? a year?\"\n\nShe floated to the bed and tossed a pillow at me. \"You know very well it's our three year anniversary you meanie.\"\n\nOf course I did, but if she was going to tease me, then I saw no reason not to tease her back. Especially with the ring that was carefully hidden amongst the socks in my drawer. Tomorrow would be an anniversary to remember."
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[WP] Robotic parts are suddenly being implanted into people during surgery.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Ok, Cheryl, close him up.\"\n\nDoctor Osler leaned back and one of the nurses padded a bead of sweat off his face. The surgeon's assistant stepped in and began closing up the incision in the patient's belly.\n\n\"Ready, Steve?\" Doctor Osler asked. Another surgeon stepped forward, somewhat hesistantly, and Doctor Osler gestured impatiently. \"C'mon. In and out in five minutes.\"\n\n\"Still not used to this,\" Doctor Steve Halsted muttered. \"It's just an appendectomy. Do we really need to?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Doctor Osler snapped. \"You've got the device?\"\n\n\"Ready,\" Doctor Halsted said, adopting the calm, professional tone that his position demanded. \n\n\"Nurse, is the patient ready?\"\n\n\"Yes, Doctor.\"\n\n\"Ok,\" Doctor Osler said. \"Scalpel.\"\n\nHe took the offered instrument and cut a small flap in the patient's scalp. A nurse pressed gauze into the wound and applied a retractor to hold the skin flap open. Doctor Osler accepted a drill with a thin bit from the nurse and pressed it to the patient's skull. The drilled whined.\n\n\"How many of these have you done?\" Doctor Halsted asked.\n\n\"These? We just started doing them two weeks ago,\" Doctor Osler said absently. \n\n\"Any, er, complications?\" Doctor Halsted asked.\n\n\"For fuck's sake,\" Doctor Osler grunted. The drill revved briefly. \"Where were you during the outbreak?\"\n\n\"Mass General.\"\n\n\"Boston? Ok. I was down in Grady Memorial. In fuckin' *Atlanta*. You had, what, a hundred cases up in Boston?\"\n\n\"More like two hundred.\"\n\n\"Whatever. We had forty thousand, Steve. Forty *thousand*. You know how many drill bits I wore out punching holes in skulls down there? They brought in deadbolt guns after a while.\"\n\n\"Jesus.\"\n\n\"Yeah. The burn pits were going twenty-four seven. We held the line but it was *this* close. Did you know they almost lost the hospital?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"*This* close. One of the janitors was handing out wrenches and crowbars when the morgue went tits up. They didn't want to start a panic, or make it worse, so no one ever said anything after we got it back under control. Ok, it's ready.\"\n\nDoctor Osler withdrew the drill, leaving behind a small hole.\n\n\"Applying the device,\" Doctor Halsted said. He lifted a small, stubby syringe from the table and positioned it over the hole. He squeezed carefully, injecting a small metallic pill. \"It's in.\"\n\n\"Not bad,\" Doctor Osler said. \"Assistant, cap it and close it.\"\n\n\"You didn't answer my question about complications,\" Doctor Halsted said. He placed the empty syringe on the table and stepped back, observing as the surgeon's assistants went to work. \"They'll be rolling this out to everyone, soon, and you know it won't be perfect. Infections. Mistakes. Hell, what are we going to do when one pops prematurely? That'll burn out half that man's brain before he can blink.\"\n\n\"Then he'll die,\" Doctor Osler said coldly. \n\n\"That's it? We just ignore that risk?\"\n\nDoctor Osler spoke as if he hadn't heard a word. \n\n\"But at least he won't get back up.\""
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[WP] "uh your majesty, the monsters have apparently started a kingdom, and there is an ambassador in the courtyard"
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
" The Duke of Ardania looked out of the window overlooking the courtyard, finally done with paperwork for the day. He wanted to go to bed already, as he didn't leave his chambers since the steward brought that mountain sitting on his table to him. The Duke could finally relax. But then he saw the giant silhouette of a minotaur approaching the keep. \n\n He immediately rushed to the courtyard, to talk to the monster and defuse the situation. It was usually simple, the monster would ask for some gold or a weapon, otherwise he would attack, so the Duke would cave in to the demands, as a few gold pieces are worth way less than the lives of his guardsmen.\n\n As he approached the minotaur, he realized this situation was different. The half-bovine was dressed in a huge purple coat, unique hoof-shaped boots instead of just horseshoes, only one ring on his hand as opposed to the several most minotaurs had. The creature in front of him could only be described as strange.\n\n\"Greetings, sir. I have traveled to this castle from the capital of the newly-formed Kingdom of Hingona, to let you know of my realm being united, and ask of you a treaty of non-aggression between Ardania and the new Kingdom.\"\n\n The duke was very surprised to learn that Hingona was under one banner again, as it was just a bunch of tribes and duchies of non-humans that were in a state of almost perpetual war with each other until recently. He was also shocked by the fact that an ambassador came to Ardania of all places. Ardania! His \"duchy\" was barely more than a few towers left over from the old Erthan Empire, some small hamlets, and this keep.\n\n\"But why would your king want to have a non-aggression pact with my holdings? Why even risk coming here, when your king knows how most people respond to monsters?\"\n\n\"Well, the king united the nation through promises of peace, talking clan leaders into joining his realm, even some bribes, and he did it all without a single war. He does not plan to change that. He sent ambassadors to the various realms to show that he trusts the people of the neighbouring lands, and wants to have allies, even if some close-minded humans don't. Having good diplomatic relations with your neighbours is a very good long term investment in his eyes.\"\n\n\"But why would I sign a treaty with a kingdom of monsters? What few subjects I have will hate me, the emperor would consider this abandoning the empire for an upstart kingdom, which could spiral out of control into a full scale war between your kingdom and the Empire, and although I wouldn't get attacked by Hingona, didn't you just say that the king plans to **not** have wars with his neighbours? I see little reason for me to accept this offer.\"\n\n\"Well, you see.. Erm.. He.. The king..\"\n\n\"Your \"King\" probably wanted to have a valid reason to march troops through the duchy, and then attack it, though I really don't see why warlocks have the sense of honor that they do. And honestly, how could anyone believe that a person convinced the various tribes to just become part of a nation? He obviously conquered the tribes, and is looking for more land and plunder. Get out of here, minotaur.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;",
"'The wha? What you say, Jerob?' The King asked whilst shoving another biscuit almost entirely into his mouth.\n\n'The monsters, sire. It appears they've... sent an emissary?'\n\n'Poffit all, Jerob av you been snorting that magi dus again?' One of the councilman chimed in, causing the entire room to erupt in laughter.\n\n'No, e's right m'lord. Look there!' The entire council, including the King, scurried over to the window and peered out to see a ghastly figure waiting patiently at the portcullis. The beast had a head like that of a boar. It stood on two feet and at the end of its arms were human-like hands, except... more boarish. Tusks protruded each side of it's mouth and hot steam crept out of it's nostrils as it breathed deeply in the cold autumn air.\n\n'Good lord.' The King gasped. 'The bloody hell is that?'\n\n'Lookin like a... a... Me thinks its a boar, sire.'\n\n'What gave it away Brogard? Was it the shittin tusks?' Again the room gave way to laughter.\n\n'Right, shut up the lot of you! Shh. There be no tellin how good its hearin is. Might be able to hear our hearts, for all we know.' The King put a finger up to his mouth. He scanned the room, looking at each member of the council. Then his gaze fell on one, Brogard of Farshire.\n\n'Brogard, go talk to it.' The King said. The council turned its attention to Brogard.\n\n'Oh ya can't beh serious... Do you see the size of at fing? Bastard could fuck me dead, sire!'\n\n'Right, so best cover yer ass Brogard. Get to it.'\n\n'But-'\n\n'For your *King*, Brogard.' Torvald said before Brogard could finish.\n\n'Oh poffit, Torv! You go do it en!'\n\n'Don't be stupid, he axed you, ya weevil!'\n\n'ENOUGH!' Irritated, the King brought the room to a complete silence.\n\n'How about both of you get yer asses out there!' The two men didn't get but one word out.\n\n'Or... or you can wrestle Filip.' Filip flashed a devilish smile. He was a beast of his own. Easily the largest man within the kingdom with enough hair on his chest to braid, and an uncanny fetish for inflicting pain whilst getting his jollies off, typically on those of his victims. How he made it onto the council is beyond even the brightest scholars. The two men ceased their objections and promptly made their way out into the courtyard to meet the beast.\n\n'Wha do we sey? I mean... Wha if dat fing doen't spek Human?'\n\n'Brogard you barely spek Human... And is English, ya dumb bastard.' The two men stopped, sure to keep their distance but close enough to have a conversation with the beast on the other side.\n\n'ELLO THERE! WEEEEEE...' Brogard pointed to himself and Torvald, and continued. 'ARRRRRR PEEOOOPLLLLLE!' No response.\n\n'*Wha now?'* Brogard asked in a whisper.\n\n'*I dunno. Try again.'* He cleared his throat then started shouting again.\n\n'ELLLLLLLOOOOO! WEEEE ARRR-'\n\n'Fuckin hell, I know what you are! Poffit all, are you all fuckin deaf, or just mental?' Shock. Brogard had to gather himself after nearly falling over Torvald in a failed attempt to run away.\n\n'Righ, well see ere, sir. You've entered our lands, an we want t'know why.' Torvald asked whilst helping Brogard regain his composure.\n\n'I'm here to see your King.' The two looked at each other, then back toward the window where the council, and the King, were quietly watching. The King slowly slumped down below the bottom of the window. The pair looked back at each other, then back to the beast.\n\n'Ahem. Well... The King is out... at... the moment. But I could... take a message?'\n\n'What was that?' The beast pointed toward the window where council members, still watching intently, now retreated to the edges of the window, so as to not be so obvious...\n\n'Uh, tha was nuffin.' Brogard intercepted the question first.\n\n'It wasn't *nuffin*, I bloody saw the man. Call him down here so I can deliver my message.'\n\n'Oh! I know. You saw ose squirrels, din't ya. Damn fings... They been all ova tha castle lately. Bastards keep me up at night with their... Fornicatin.' Annoyed, the beast pinched its forehead.\n\n'Look... Obviously I'm not talking to the top brass here. So, I'll make this *really* easy. You lot go get your King, or I'll break through this here gate and stick your head...' He pointed to Brogard. 'Up his arse.' He pointed to Torvald. ",
"In a small kingdom with an ironic name like Solaria, a Siren is considered to be the worst kind of beast- one that could converse. One that could seduce. Just one glance at Freesia Seabass would communicate just what this supposed \"monster nation\" aimed for. A moon-shaped visage. Wide, piercing eyes of sea green flecked with gold. A high collar to hide her gills. I had only met three sirens in my life, and fooling them had nearly cost me a hand.\n\nThough, to be fair, they were starved, and they thought my brother looked... delicious.\n\n\"Greetings, King Abelworth,\" she rose and curtseyed. She winced, likely from the corsette that bound her waist a bit too snugly. \"I am the... Lady Freesia Sea... bass,\" the siren introduced herself, pausing as she tried to recall her customary greetings. This was her first time. You can tell from the way her hair tentacle fidgeted, and the way her eyes flicked from one guard to the next. I delivered a heavy sigh, before adopting the same, forced speech pattern as her. As is customary.\n\n\"Greetings, Lady Seabass. You may rise and take your seat,\" I gestured to the couch towards the fire. She glanced at the fireplace, a bit nervous. I gestured to the couch further away, offering her an out. With a hand, I gestured to the guard. Half the men moved to the leave. In the lighting, it looked as though the very walls were shuffling out the door, their armor scraping against each other as they made their way out.\n\nI could not blame their caution.\n\nIn fact, had this siren approached me on the cobbled streets of Holdberg, perhaps I would have been in danger.\n\nBut I suppose my readings and attention to detail had their... benefits.\n\nMy knowledge of monster anatomy, for example, informed me that this was indeed an honest and true attempt to establish some semblance of dialogue between my nation and hers.\n\nYou see, a Siren requires a few things to ensure that she can ensnare her prey.\n\nFirst of all, she needed a large body of water. Nothing was certain to kill her prey than drowning it. This was why Sirens were exclusively coastal- Mermaids, their deep-sea cousins, had teeth modeled after a beak. Sirens had sharp incisors, but their bodies had evolved more flat, human-like teeth. There was a collection of jaws that showcased the evolution of Siren teeth in the National Monster Museum that I had visited almost daily. On top of this, if she were to dive now, her gills would be choked by that high collar.\n\nThe second tool they evolved to hunt humans was their infamous singing. I had listened once or twice to actual Siren songs. They had an unearthly quality to them, a bit like a haunting moan, but they all required a large lung capacity. And one simply does not breathe with a corset on.\n\nAnd finally, her nails. First, they were painted and therefore easily seen. Second, they had been filed down to more dainty, human-like nubs. I took the seat across from her, and drank in the sight of it all. she even sat with her legs angled to the side, a sign of propriety amongst young noble ladies. Her skirt had been shaped wide, likely to hide her tail.\n\nAnd from my experience, Sirens were quite fond of their tails. Their fins had pearly sheens, and the richer the shine, the more they appealed to potential mates.\n\nTo put it succinctly, this Siren displayed a clear and overt attempt to appeal to every human sensibility she could, even at the cost of her own comfort.\n\nThis, sadly, spoke just as much about our customs as it spoke about her.\n\n\"So, Lady... Seabass, is that really your name? I recall that Sirens have far more, what's the word, complex last names. Often in the form of song?\" I asked as the guards sent in a fretful maid. She shakily poured the both of us some wine.\n\nThe Siren blinked, her eyes growing even wider in surprise. In my studies, I found that Sirens had larger eyes to draw in more light. It was a hold over from their mermaid predecessors, but their irises lightened in shade to ease the constant barrage of light that afflicted them on the surface. She clearly did not expect me, of all people, to know such things. Which is fair- she likely planned to meet my father, who departed with great fervor just a week before.\n\nBut life progresses. New leaves grow. And in a land where the sun doesn't beam, stalks barely break the earth, and monsters roam freely, I believe it is better to celebrate the life than mourn the death.\n\n\"Y-yes, Your Majesty. Though, it is a rather... intimate matter, the true name of a siren.\"\n\n\"No worries, Lady Seabass,\" I raised my hand and sipped my wine. I set it back down with a bit more spirit than I anticipated. \"So, you are here, apparently, to represent a... kingdom?\"\n\n\"Well, sir, not quite a Kingdom. It is more a... union of tribes.\"\n\n\"A collection of disparate species then?\" I leaned forward. I tried not to smile, but it was just fascinating to witness a Siren discuss matters of a more political nature.\n\n\"Yes, I represent tribes of a variety of species.\"\n\n\"Is that so? So, I must ask, what is the nature of your leadership? Given the different species that you represent, I doubt choosing a leader is easy.\"\n\n\"Well, we have a High Council with one major representative from each tribe. Each tribe has its own, Lower Council, which handle things internally.\"\n\n\"Just to be clear, what species do you represent, Lady Seabass?\"\n\n\"I... represent tribes, sir. We are all members of different tribes, rather than different... varieties of creature.\" She was avoiding the subject. She did not wish to discuss the actual monsters she represented. This was an interesting tactic, one that I could begin to grapple internally. She did not wish to represent her \"people\" as anything besides members of her nation. I could easily see how a regular human would react- if they knew she represented, say, a Kraken, then they would treat her far differently.\n\nThere was only one flaw to that deflection.\n\n\"Lady Seabass, right now, as I understand it, you are a Siren, claiming to represent multiple tribes. Now, right now, all I can do is assume that you represent multiple tribes of Sirens, and can thusly begin trade negotiations that specifically target that species. If my assumption is incorrect, please, enlighten me.\"\n\nThere she was. Caught in the net. Her cheeks began to flush, the color beneath her eyes beginning to color in a perplexing display of blue and pink. It was an instinctual diversionary tactic, intended for deep-sea predators. On the surface, it had too much color to compete with.\n\n\"I currently represent,\" she finally relented, \"the Vervinian clan, the Seabass tribe, the Relashian Union and the... Diamondii family. Of their combined members are... Minotaurs, Dragons, Wolfmen, and Aluraunes.\"\n\n\"Aluraunes? Here?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Wow, the poor things must be starved.\"\n\n\"They are... the fewest members amongst us.\"\n\n\"And sadly the easiest to feed,\" I said. I pondered on the nature of this union quite eagerly. What combined them, besides a strong sense of hunger? Perhaps an external threat, sure, but the only major threat to them in Solaria would be man. And even then, if they had dragons amongst their members, then what would they have to fear?\n\nNo, a nation built on fear was built upon sand.\n\n\"Thank you, Lady Seabass,\" I said. Before pausing. She did not seem to recognize the name as her own- it was probably the name of her tribe. \"Do you mind if I call you Freesia instead? You can, similarly, call me Berian.\"\n\n\"I wouldn't presume to, Lord Solarus!\" she sat ramrod. She was terrified of disrespecting me. That was fine.\n\n\"Very well then, Freesia,\" I made sure to hone in that I would refer to her as an individual. \"Now... why have you have you come to my castle?\"\n\nShe seemed to have trouble processing how to respond. I gave her time. I had presumed that, up till now, she had honed her craft of conversing with people. She had dressed as human as she could, and she presented herself as welcoming as possible. But now that she was here, she was easily off put.\n\nShe had prepared to speak with a man. She had not prepared to speak with me.\n\n\"We... the High Council, I mean, wishes to enter a treaty of nonaggression with the human nation of Solaria,\" she finally managed.",
"A regally robed minotaur stood stoically in the courtyard, back straight with hands behind him. As the human king approached him, he bowed slightly before straightening up even further. \"Your Majesty, I am here to represent His Mightyness, Archon Stroud. My name is Dalen. He hopes to establish a non-aggression pact with your kingdom and to create peace between humans and non-humans within both of our borders.\"\n\nKing Hedan stood back in shock, his face forced upward to look upon the bovine ambassador in disbelief. \"What?!\" he sputtered. \"But, you're... You're monsters!.\"\n\n\"Yes, your majesty. The subjects of His Mightyness recently voted to unify three warhosts and innumerable bands into the Kingdom of the Northern Mountains. At present we do not wish to expand, merely to establish ourselves as legitimate neighbours of the Confederacy of Wolgarth; you and your allies. We do not wish to fight you Your Majesty. The raids and skirmishes of the past are over. I have bought a peace offering. Would you like to see it?\" Ambassador Dalen gestured behind him to a large chest and pile of saddlebags.\n\n\n"
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[WP] The world of fairytales is real, and our major world events are their fairytale. Describe a major world event as a tale.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"His name was god but he wasn't one he was two.. no five? Twenty!?\n\nBut this god didn't speak maybe he couldn't? But he brought comfort to many.\n\nBut prophets who heard this gods voice or thoughts? It's hard to say, realized they were the few who could hear.\n\nAnd so they wove webs they spun lies they had gold in their eyes and deceit etched in their hearts and so they told lies.\n\nThey led the people far from their god but with just enough to make them pray, and they told more lies and stole from the people!\n\nThe god was not happy but he couldn't speak so he watched on sadly and he watched heroes step up and defend non believers and believers alike.\n\nAnd though he was real they were strong, they were kind, and they didn't lie they told the truth whenever they could.\n\nBut there isn't a happy ending this war is still being fought and if the heroes hearts are truly made of gold is yet to be known, and if the god ever speaks is yet only a dream.\n\nSo for now children even if you don't know if you are entirely right be kind and try to be true a real god will love you for being good to all.",
"Once upon a time there were eight kingdoms, these lands stretched across vast lands and they lived in peace, one day the King of Saxony was usurped by an evil and cunning man, he renamed the land the Kingdom of Nazi, the new ruler wanted to conquer other kingdoms and rule the world. \n\nHe built a great army of dragons and knights led by the villainous Order of Schutzstaffel and began locking up the people of the land. The evil king then allied with three other kingdoms and while the remaining lands were unaware his great army invaded the land to the East. \n\nTwo of the kingdoms, Brittania and Frankia saw this and prepared to defend themselves but Frankia was defeated as the Kingdom of Nazi sent its monstrous Panthers through the forests and lay siege to Castle Paris. The Nazi legions exiled the Order of Gaulle to the land across the Channel Brittania to the kingdom for which the sea was named.\n\nOnly one land, the Kingdom of Brittania remained to face the enemy, the Kingdom of Americae was avoiding war, the Evil King sent his great dragon hordes to burn the Kingdom's villages and castles but at the last moment were met by the heroic Spitfire Templar and their hawk riders. The battle was long and hard, with many houses burned and riders killed, but at last, the Templar emerged victorious.\n\nFurious, Nazi attacked the Kingdom of Soviet, the Soviets defended valiantly and at last repelled the evil armies of Nazi and joined the Alliance of Kingdoms.\n\nOn the other side of land the Empire of Nihon sent their own dragons to attack the Great Pearl Harbor of Americae sinking many ships. But at last, the sleeping kingdom was roused into joining the fight. Hordes of Eagle riders, knights, and siege engines poured onto the battlefield to assist their allies in a final attack.\n\nThe two western allies rallied their armies and gathered for an attack on the Wall of Atlantia, an enormous fortification stretching across the shore of the Channel Brittania, many knights and dragons were sent to attack the Great Wall, and many died by arrows fired by Nazi archers, but the day was won, Castle Paris was retaken in an heroic battle led by the Order of Gaulle. And soon after the Kingdom of Nazi fell in a great siege where all the Allied Kingdoms worked together to restore freedom to the oppressed and enslaved people.\n\nNow, Nihon stood, determined to bring destruction to the land, Americae and Soviet fought bravely to stop their evil plots and at last, at the release of two dragons into great Imperial cities, the war was over and peace and freedom were restored to the land.\n\nThe heroes came together to bring the villainous leaders of each kingdom to justice for their crimes and everyone lived happily ever after...\n\nThe End\n\n\n\nAt least until Vietnam.",
"There once was a knight. A powerful knight from a divided kingdom. His job: destroy the disease that had spread throughout his beloved kingdom. It would infect them with stupidity and irrationality. And it was sir Benjamin’s job to RECK the disease, with FACTS AND LOGIC!!! There was a conflict between who would be the next ruler of the kingdom of the eagle. The conflict was between prince Donald and the duke of Clinton. Whilst Donald wanted to protect freedom and fight against the attacking kingdom ruled by emperor xing, the duke of Clinton however has a scoundrel infected by the disease who wanted to harm the kingdom of the eagle. He put in his part and whether or not he made the difference prince Donald endured and defeated the duke of Clinton. However the future of the kingdom is in question and it all rests on whether the disease known as fe-man-es-um.",
"Once upon a time there was a kingdom. And on this kingdom, there were two towers. Side by side. The tallest and largest towers ever seen for a long time.\n\nMany people were inspired by these towers and built bigger and larger towers around the world. But in this kingdom, the two towers were the tallest around. People came from all around to see these two towers.\n\nBut there were people in a kingdom faraway that were very upset. They didn't like the king of the kingdom with the two towers.\n\nSo one day the king of that jealous kingdom sent two dragons who went and burned the two towers down. Many people died. It was a sad, sad time in the kingdom.\n\nMany years later, the people of the kingdom built another tower.\n\nBut it just wasn't the same.\n\nThe End."
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[WP] You discover a book titled "How To Become The World's Greatest Mage". You flip through it, and it is full of how to cast spells. For a laugh, you try performing a telekinesis spell. The tin can you cast it at moves.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"“How to Become the World’s Greatest Mage”, by J.K. Merlin. That’s a satirical book if I’ve ever seen one, right? I mean, there’s no way that a book to actually becoming a mage would be lying around in my grandma’s attic. So why is that when I chanted the words that were under “Telekinesis”, the can that I pointed at actually moved? And why did it move again why I casted it another time? Obviously, there’s a rational explanation for this, but I certainly couldn’t think of one. \n\nSo, I did what any other sane person would, and read the entire thing through, cover to cover. And I came upon a really, really big problem. The “Dangers and Warnings” section was at the back of the book.\n\nApparently, the first thing you should do before you ever practice a spell is make sure that you have wards covering the area you’re casting in, otherwise people will know where you are, and come after you. Pretty important information to put in the back of the book.\n\nI heard the squealing of tires entering the driveway. Hoping it was just my parents coming here to pick me up, I peaked out the window and had no such luck. A black Bentley was sitting outside, and two women in black suits exited the vehicle. \n\nAccording to the stupid book, that meant that the local coven of witches was probably after me. Since the witches like to use magic initiates for blood sacrifices, it wasn’t looking great for me.\n\nThe doorbell rang once, then twice, then the door got kicked down.\n\n“Hello? Is there anybody incredibly stupid home? We just want to help you learn about the magic that you just did!” One of the witches sounded incredibly peppy, like she wasn’t planning on sacrificing me to one of the Old Gods.\n\nActing more on instinct than thought, I jumped out of the window, into the bushes below. And then I ran away. And as I was running away, I saw that the keys to the Bentley were still in the car. \n\nHopping in, I started the ignition, and didn’t listen to any of the witches’ shouting as I got away as quickly as possible. And to top it all off, I forgot the book. Hopefully I would survive long enough for that to matter."
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[WP] You are a grim-reaper-in-training. You have finally gotten past all the grueling exams and are ready for some hands-on experience. Your first assignment? A 14-year old beagle.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"I don't want to do it.\"\n\nMy name is Maut. From birth I've always known that I would take my fathers mantle as The Reaper one day. It's my Birthright, my destiny, and I've looked forward to the day when I was finally allowed to wear the cloak.\n\nToday my father took me aside and said that I had one final test. If I pass I will be anointed this coming new moon and will become Death.\n\nI thought he would look more excited, but instead he looked like someone had kicked a puppy. When I said so he flinched and told me to get dressed.\n\nSo I in my white cloak follow his black form through The Vale, the veil between our world and theirs. The Vale strips my coffee colored skin away from me in a flash of pain. Father says that we leave ourselves behind in penance for the life we take and am thankful that I have no eyes and cannot cry.\n\nWe have stepped into a small living room where a teenage girl lays listening to music, her hand resting on an old beagle. His muzzle has become a light grey and his tail wags to the slow beat of her gental scritches. \n\nAt first I fear that we've come for the girl, but my father shakes is head sadly and points to the dog. At first im relieved and reach for his lifeline. \n\nAll of my training hasn't prepared me for the memories woven into its life. Scenes of being born on the floor of a closet, the happy human faces hidden behind its closed eyes. One of the humans is very pregnant and I can see that it's almost her time. \n\nThe next scene is him opening his eyes and looking into the face of the once pregnant woman holding a small pink bundle. From there I see a lifetime of puppy kisses and play with a slowly growing child, the younger days of the girl who lays beside me. There is a funeral, the girls father died, and he stands strong while the girl strangles her tears with his soft fur and loose skin. A few years pass and her tears fade as they are replaced with smiles and play once again.\n\nGently the scenes slow down. He plays less and sleeps more. He does his best to hide the pain in his hips until the girl begins to lovingly carry him up and down the stairs. He's growing old.\n\nThe final scene is the one that lays before me. By this time the beagle has stirred and is looking into the endless caves where my eyes used to be. I expect fear, but I see sadness and relief instead. He gives the girls had a final loving lick and rests his head back where it was so that the girl will resume her scratches.\n\n\"I don't want to do it\" \n\nI look to my father for help and even though he has no face to show it I can still see the pain he feels at watching me struggle. He puts a hand on my shoulder and murmurs \"Look at him. He lived a wonderful life, but his body is betraying him. It hurts to walk and eating has become a struggle. If we don't take him now he will start vomiting and will later die in agony without us to guide him.\"\n\n\"Give him rest. He will have options behind Vale and may choose to come back as a guardian for the girl or wait for her to be with him again. This is a good death. He leaves in warmth and love and feels no fear.\" \n\nHe a silver dagger out to me. It is the blade of painless death, one of 6 that rest at his hip and it is by far the most beautiful in his collection. \n\n\"He is a good boy Maut, he deserves a good death\"\n\nI placed the offered dagger against the base of the old dogs life and separate the strand in one fluid motion. I watch his breathing slow and stop. His spirit stands, a reflection of the puppy he once was and turns to the girl. She hasn't noticed yet and I hope she won't until we are gone. He wags his tail at her one last time before turning to us, ready to move on. \n",
"I named him Mister Snuffles when I was five years old. He'd been the cutest puppy ever made, and when you held him he'd give you kisses while simultaneously trying to sniff every inch of you. I loved that dog.\n\nThen I died in a car crash when I was sixteen.\n\nMister Snuffles came to the funeral with Mom and Dad. Mom held him against her chest and sobbed all through the ceremony. Mister Snuffles was a good boy, the best of boys, and he laid his head dutifully on her shoulder for the entire thing. He licked her cheek when it was over.\n\nWhen you die, you get some options. I'm not going to spoil the surprise for you, but I will say that I think I chose mine well. It's hard work, what I'm going to do. But it's important.\n\nMy first day on my new job in the afterlife, I was given an assignment. When I saw his name, I started to cry. And five minutes later I found myself standing outside my childhood home.\n\nMister Snuffles was in the backyard. He was laying under the tree that still held my tire swing, the one Dad had put up for me when I was seven. His breathing was laboured, his heart so close to giving out. He was 14 years old today, and it was his time.\n\nI held out my hand, an ethereal sight in a corporeal plane of existence. I laid my fingers on Mister Snuffles fur, and when he looked up at me, I felt his tail start to wag softly.\n\n\"C'mon, boy,\" I whispered. \"Let's go home.\""
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[WP] You are a reasonably stereotypical dragon. You live in a gigantic cave in some mountains. Occasionally, you have been known to kidnap young maidens for some polite conversation. Recently, you woke up from twenty years' sleep to find a young mother cat giving birth to kittens by your tail.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
" I am a dragon a rather large dragon actually. My name is actually not important...at all to this story. \nYou see every 100 years of roaming about the world and seizing gold kidnapping maidens i have to go to sleep for you see humans learn. They learn pretty well. \nI go to sleep and wait for the humans to calm down before i continue my rampages on their society.\n\nI am almost 5,000 years old which is pretty young for a dragon. Im not like the others i dont go about destroying everything and picking on humans...well actually i do but the first time i kid napped a princess it was my intention to hold her ransom and demand gold and cows as food from the humans in return for her life. \nBut...we started talking and i found i rather enjoyed her company. After a day or two i let her go and i found more pleasure in conversation with the humans then killing them. I do on occasion raid the nation of dimwits to the south where i pillage and eat cows but i probably haven't killed a human in years. \n\n\nIn all my years of life this however has never happend. \nI woke up from my slumber after all those years asleep i was pretty groggy i glanced around the cave until...i saw a small cat under my tail. I have dealt with cats before and there usually high on my kill list as there assholes. \nThe first time i saw a cat i bent down to sniff it and the little jerk hit me in the face. I roared and took a step at it...the little retard stepped closer to me. \nThat being said i was ready to just kill the little vermin until i noticed that beneath it were tiny balls of fur. \nThey were its babys. \nThe humans had been looking for me for years...scowering the world burning down forests sending riders to and fro looking for my liar...but someway some how this little cat manages to find my den and have her babies right under my tail...How? \nI didn't want to kill it im a dragon not a baby killer.\"Perhaps i shall keep them\" i thought. \nAnd so i did and it was so. \nI fetched hay to make a comfortable spot for the cat besides my tail and as planned she moved her babies there. \nEveryday i would return with a fresh kill ready to gulf down the whole cow but to my never ending dissatisfaction...the cat would eat first. It would jump in my face tear off a chunk and eat. \nI grew to like them and i watched them grow.They never fully trusted me...the kittens the mother liked me.\n\n \nPerhaps it is them i miss the most from the old days. Things have changed...i cant pillage now and like everything else the cats the gold the conversations with the maidens and the others of my kind i to will soon slip away into the sands of time."
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[WP] You wake up one day to find your face on the morning news. Several world leaders were assassinated, and you are the prime suspect.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I usually don't watch the news. I just let it play on mute in the background and catch the running text whenever I happen to glance up from whatever I'm doing at that moment. \n\nThe day that changed my life was a Saturday. I was cooking eggs, back to the TV, when my phone rang.\n\nI answered. \"Yellow.\"\n\n\"Jim.\" It was Austin. \"Turn on the news. Now.\"\n\n\"It's on.\"\n\n\"No, not the way *you* watch it. I want you to turn the volume *on* and *up*.\"\n\n\"Let me guess,\" I said, smirk on my face as I scraped eggs from the side of the pan. \"You won the lotto?\"\n\n\"SUNUVA- JIM! THIS IS NOT A JOKE! TURN ON THE F*#\"^#$ NEWS, DAMNIT!\"\n\nI frowned, body already turning towards the TV before I made a conscious decision on whether to resist the comnand or not.\n\nAnd that's when I saw it.\n\nI didn't need to hear it. I could see and read quite well:\n\n#SEVERAL WORLD LEADERS ASSASSINATED. PRIME SUSPECT JIM THONIS.\n\nAnd they had a little picture of me in the corner of the screen.\n\nMy phone squeaked. \"Jim? Jim, are you okay?\"\n\nI stared at it in confusion, wondering when it had become able to talk, before realizing that Austin was still on the other end.\n\n\"Hey, look,\" I said to him. \"I'll call you back.\"\n\n\"Where are you going?\"\n\n\"Police station.\"\n\n\"**WHAT?!**\"\n\nI was already pulling on my pants. \"I have to clear this up.\"\n\n\"**HOW?!**\"\n\n\"I don't know, but what I *do* know is that I didn't do it. So...\"\n\n\"But obviously whoever set you up planted enough evidence for the authorities to think it was you.\"\n\nI paused.\n\n\"After all,\" he went on, \"you won't be the first innocent man that was found guilty of a crime he didn't do.\"\n\nI jangled my keys in my hand, trying to make a decision. \"I'm still going,\" I decided. \"If I don't, it'll look worse. Unless you have any better alternatives, please feel free to share or shut up.\"\n\nI could hear him sigh. \"Alright,\" he said. \"I'll meet you there. I'm still watching the news and it said that one of the assassinations happened this Thursday. But you were at my place, I remember. That gives you an alibi for one of the murders.\"\n\nI laughed with gratitude and relief at my friend's loyalty. None of my other \"friends\" had called to give me a heads up on the news, or to offer any solutions or condolences. \n\nAt the same time I couldn't blame them really. They probably didn't want to be associated with me in anyway in case the government came after them as well, for whatever reason. I guess now it was time to see who really were your friends or not.\n\n\"Alright,\" I said. \"See you s-\"\n\n*DOOMP DOOMP DOOMP*.\n\nThree knocks nearly knocked my apartment's front door off its hinges. \n\n\"FBI, OPEN UP!\"\n\nAustin was still on the phone. \"What's that?\"\n\n\"Nothing. I'll call you back.\" I hung up the phone.\n\nPadding to the door on tip toe, I peeked through the peephole.\n\nTwo men were standing in the hallway. Black shades. Black suits. Black ties. \n\nI opened the door cautiously. \"Hey, I was actually just on my way to the p-\"\n\nThere was something about these men that rubbed me the wrong way. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I felt like I was in danger. \n\nThe man on my left jerked his hand into his coat.\n\nReflex. \n\nI slammed the door and dropped. \n\n*Thunk*.\n\nA bullet hit the door.\n\n*What the f#$%!* I thought. *They're really trying to kill me!*\n\nI sprung to my feet.\n\nA second later, they kicked the door in and jumped in, guns drawn.\n\nEverything slowed down.\n\nAnd my mind lost control of my body.\n\nAs I told myself to surrender, my body ignored me and slid to the side of the agent on my left.\n\nAgent Right, who was targeting my movements with his gun, squeezed the trigger at the wrong time and sent a bullet into Agent Left's arm.\n\nI grabbed the gun and pushed the body in front of me. Agent Left flew into Agent Right like an eager bride on her honeymoon day and they stumbled back.\n\nI could've killed them right then and there. One shot through two skulls. \n\nBut my mind screamed, *Don't!* and my body froze for a moment. After all, I was still under the impression that these were authorities of the law.\n\nIn that moment, Agent Right swung an arm over his partner's shoulder and tried to plug me. \n\nI stepped to the side and kept stepping until the only level angle he could get with his gun would be by curling his arm around Agent Left's neck in a chokehold. \n\nMind you, this whole time my body's acting on its own. I'm like a stranger in my own body, watching this all from third person.\n\nBefore they can untangle, I'm near them again, fingers digging in Agent Right's wrist till he surrenders the gun against his own will. Then another stab of the fingers - two quick jabs into each Agent's neck - and both men slump to the floor, unconscious.\n\nAfter calmly sticking my head in the hallway - and seeing no witnesses - I just as calmly close and lock the door behind me.\n\nWalking at a brisk pace, the elevator floor light, lights up at the end of the hall. All I see is a glimpse of black as I duck into the stairwell and tramp down the steps.\n\nIt's not until I'm outside and around the corner does my body relinquish control back to me. Unfortunately by then I'm a mass of shivering nerves and reserve adrenaline.\n\nNo match for whoever's in the car that suddenly pulls in into the alleyway that I'm in. \n\nI still have two guns on me. I reach and grip one.\n\nThe car stops parallel to me. The windows go down.\n\nBrown hair. Black shades. Smiling mouth and white teeth.\n\n\"Sleeper Agent Z,\" he says. \"You've finally woken up.\"\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] You're a wizard living in modern times trying to make a living as a perfomance magician. Unfortunately, you are an abysmal showman and have a zero flare stage presence.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
" “For my next trick, I’ll move heaven and hearth to reanimate the dead? Any volunteers?” I asked. Ian Morgan Gron says in his book, that the success of any great performer is to feed off the energy of your audience. Well my audience wasn’t exactly feeding much energy to me so I had to settle for something close to their level- A monotone.\n\n“Yes you in the back. How would you like to die and come back to life?” I asked a man who had gotten up out of his seat but had merely been making an early exit from my performance. I tapped my foot impatiently. “Err does anyone have a dead relative nearby? I promise I can bring them back from death itself.”\n\n*No volunteers. Typical. Why doesnt anyone ever want to die as part of my show?!*\n\n“Okay, if none of you have any dead loved ones or anything I can move onto my next trick if you like?” I half mumbled on stage.\n\nI was greeted with one nod and quite a few yawns and shrugs. \n\n“Okay.. How do you guys feel about TRANSMOGRIFICATION!?” I tried to shout with fake enthusiasm. Transmogrification is a bitch to do on both the caster and the animal, but hey I needed to sell tickets. “Okay okay, I get the message you’re interested!” I said.\n\nThey weren't interested.\n\nI pulled out my favorite pet bunny, Sir Moonch. I laid him on the ground in front of me and put a towel over him as I began to cast my spell. I rewound time I edited Sir moonch’s very DNA. I pleaded with the forces beyond mortal ken to allow Sir moonch to grow and grow. I could hear the awful snapping of fiber and muscle beneath the cloth. I could hear feathers sprouting out of bone.\n\n“Err could I have a moment please? What was once a rabbit, has now become a fierce and powerful DOVE” I tried to flourish and end. The audience remained unimpressed when I revealed the transmogrified bird.\n\n“Fuck it You can ask for a refund.” I said tossing my special magicians cape at the floor, kicking up dust.\n\nThe dust spread through the air and i felt the urge to sneeze. *Oh shit I can’t sneeze here* I thought at first, but looked at the bored audience who was either playing on their phone or picking their nose or some asinine combination of the too.\n\nI sneezed and simultaneously every audience member glanced up panic in their eyes as they looked at me in terror. One by one they reached to their throats and retched out a frog.\n\nThey went wild. They started clapping and cheering in amazement.\n\n*Well shit I guess i have to go through this whole act again next week.*\n"
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[WP] You are apprentice to a God. One day the two of you are working together, crafting a world, when he steps out for a short break. You notice an issue and try your best to resolve it before he gets back
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"It was perfect. \n\nToo *perfect*. The native species lived together in harmony. Food and water, both essential to life were plentiful. Lush forests and clear rivers gave way to a sparkling sky. \n\n*Master always did have a tendency for perfection.*\n\nPerhaps a flaw or two would add some depth, for the world has the epitome of Elysium. So *perfect* it had become shallow: for there would be no conflicts, no pain, no suffering. \n\nThe land would suffer from eternal peace, dragging it into a state of lethargy that would last for it’s entire existence. \n\n*I’m not Master, I’m not perfect.*\n\nHe wove his hands into the fabrics of Fate and the eternal spring was no more. In that short lived instant, the world had been perfect, but perfect was impossible. \n\n*A moment captured in time.*\n\nSummer arrived, bringing hot winds and inhospitable deserts that rose out from the depths of hell. Winter came with frozen vengeance, dooming the lands of the far North and South to the tender embrace of the biting cold. \n\nWatering holes dried up, clearings that were once teeming with pray became deserted. Suffering. Some survived and others did not. Those who did learned to grow stronger, to *adapt*. \n\n*Am I doing the right thing? Master! Please?! Why aren’t you here with me!*\n\nHe went forward, observing closely as *something* advanced into the wild unknown. With two legs, two arms and no natural defenses to speak of: the animal was doomed. Yet it developed before his gaze. They built villages, cities and even more wondrous things. They were an annoyance for they were the servants of order, they had no more respect for the chaos that had shaped the world. \n\n*Please! I’m doing good... aren’t I? Master.... please.....*\n\nIn an instant, he created another one of the creatures. She would be perfect, he decided.\n\n*He abhorred perfect*\n\nHe made her flawless: she was the perfect specimen. She could be deemed the most attractive of her species, with beauty and wit from the gods. She had all the qualities she could ever hope to have. \n\nHe named her Pandora. \n\nHis child lived a happy life but she was curious. *Too* curious. He gave her a gift. A jar of sorts that should never be opened. \n\n*Hubris was a parasite that plagued their species.*\n\nThe foolish child was just that: foolish. Her hunger for adventure could not be contained as she opened the jar. \n\nChaos. \n\nPerversion.\n\nIt was unleashed throughout the girl’s species. Through her own act, through her own *hubris*. \n\nShe looked up and cried as it spread around her, as perfection fled once again leaving chaos in its wake. \n\n“Why?”\n\n“Because of what you are.”\n\n\n\n*He abhorred perfection after all*\n"
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[WP] Magic hasn't been practiced for generations, and the modern world is all but devoid of it. By some twist of fate, you are born with a slight aptitude for magic, and a familiar seeks you out; an ancient and proud familiar that only allies itself with the most powerful magic user in the world.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"For as long as he could remember, Jinyoung had been a bit unusual. He could see perfectly in the dark, animals seemed to understand him, and there was that one time he’d broken open a chestnut shell to find a golden ring inside. \n\nBut he wouldn’t really call himself a magician per se. After all, he didn’t really do anything to make the extraordinary happen, rather the extraordinary happened to him. \n\nToday was no exception. He’d been on his way to school when he heard a small voice calling out to him from the bushes by the sidewalk. Upon closer inspection, it seemed to be coming from a lizard. \n\n“How is it that you know my name?” Jinyoung asked, intrigued. Animals always listened to him, but none had ever spoken to him before. \n\n“I know a great many things, Dragonmaster.” The lizard replied, it’s voice hissing softly. \n\n“Dragonmaster?” Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. “There are no dragons, they’re just stories.”\n\n“So are talking animals.” The lizard almost seemed to shrug. “And yet, here we are.”\n\n“True.” Jinyoung smiled. “So why do you call me Dragonmaster?”\n\n“Dragons seek out treasure, and there is no greater treasure than magic.” The lizard whispered. “And the one who commands magic, commands the dragons.”\n\n“Is that why you speak to me then?” Jinyoung asked. “Because I can do magic? I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed then, because I can’t really make it happen, it just does whatever it pleases.”\n\n“No one controls their magic at first.” The lizard hissed. “A hatchling thrown into the ocean cannot control the waves, but when they are grown, they can control the storm.”\n\n“A hatchling of what?” Jinyoung wondered. Understanding dawned on him. “Are you a dragon?”\n\n“The last of my kind, as far as I know.” The lizard nodded. “I have searched far to find the most powerful sorcerer in the east, and I have found you, Jinyoung.”\n\n“And what is it that you want?” Jinyoung asked. “And since when am I the most powerful sorcerer?”\n\n“To serve you, Dragonmaster.” The dragon hissed. “And you are indeed the most powerful sorcerer, as sure as I am the last dragon.”\n\n“We’d make quite the pair then.” Jinyoung laughed and held out his hand to the dragon. “The last dragon and the last sorcerer.”\n\n“Nay, Dragonmaster.” The dragon leapt from the bush into Jinyoung‘s hand. “The first sorcerer of a new age.”",
"Rhodes looked around him, he could hear someone breathing, it echoed all around him. \n\n\"Hello - are you having trouble, can I help?\" Rhodes did his best to ease the shake in his voice. He had been bullied and pushed around because of his peculiar abilities. He didn't really understand them but he could make some sparks and make things cold, nothing of significance but it made him different. Now he was afraid someone else was going to attack him. He could feel the panic rising in his chest. The breathing was getting closer and it was louder. \n\nHe could feel the ground swell with every breath his pursuer took, Rhodes darted around a corner but it felt like it reached the turn before he did. He looked behind him, nothing. \n\n\"Young one, do not fear my presence. Come to the open clearing ahead of you and wait a moment.\" the ground shook with the voice pressing Rhodes to the ground. On his hands and knees he crawled trying to escape the pressure it put on him. His head was barely able to lift when he saw a small clearing ahead between the buildings, the neighborhood park. No one was there, was that where the voice wanted him to go? He froze as the breath inhaled deeply, he felt as if his own breath was being sucked out of him. The panic was overtaking him, his thoughts were only to escape this pressure. He struggled to stand, but as soon as he was upright the ground shook again with an impact shaking him to the ground again.\n\nRhodes face had taken the brunt of the fall, his fact was covered with bits of gravel, sand, and dirt. Now he could barely see through a mass of hair in his face. Then it stopped. The pressure was gone.\n\n\"My apologies, I have not had to suppress my aura in centuries. Come, let me have a look at you.\" The voice filled the air in front of Rhodes. He cleared his face and sat back on his feet. As he looked for the voice his eyes began to water, warm air exhaled covering his body. \n\nRhodes stared in disbelief, wiping away the dampness of his eyes. A dragon sat before him. Powerful jaws of blackened hide and glistening white teeth were the first feature Rhodes saw. As he began looking beyond the obvious danger, he saw the for massive limbs folded together resembling a feline napping with his head on its paws. Its color was mystifying, as it seemed to reflect the sky, the stars, and light from all around.\n\n\"You seem a bit stunned young man. Shall I come another time? I do believe you should have been expecting a visit so soon after you your 15th season. Did you expect another perhaps?\" The dragon seemed to yawn, exposing a glowing throat and more teeth than Rhodes cared to see.\n\nRhodes took in the site and remained confused. The creature had lifted its head and placed it nostrils within a hands reach of him. Rhodes panic was wearing off, now his mind was working, trying to understand what he was supposed to do. \n\nRhodes finally spoke, \"I did not expect anyone great dragon, but I am honored by your presence.\" Rhodes felt flattery was in order, never hurt to try and make a friend instead of an enemy.\n\n\"Have you not been raised as the next Arch-mage, should you not know why it is I am before you now? Who has failed in their sworn duty to pass down the traditions of the INFALLIBLE! WHERE ARE THE ADEPTS! WHERE ARE THE LIBRARIANS! I, THE PEARL BLACK DRAGON, RULER OF THE DRAGONS OF BLACK NIGHT, FAMILIAR OF THE INFALLIBLE ARCH-MAGE, MIGHTY SHRODE WILL DESOLATE THE SCHOOLS OF MAGIC FOR THIS DISGRACE!\" Shrode's voice regained its pressure forcing Rhodes to cover his ears, he began to whimper at the exhale of the dragon.\n\n\"There are no magic schools great Shrode. I believe I do have some magic but have never been taught. The library we have here, well it has some magic books but they are all about slight of hand.\" Rhodes trembled as he spoke. The panic had returned 10 fold, he cowered in a semi fetal position still sitting on his knees.\n\nAgain the pressure lifted almost throwing him forward, his head was almost touching the ground when he felt the warm hardness of the dragons chin on his forehead. \"Young one, tell me. How many years has it been since the last Arch-Mage passed?\" \n\nThe breath passed over Rhodes as the dragon spoke the question. \"There are a few fairy tales or stories about magic, but no real history. It was said the magic just stopped showing up in the children because no one believed magic was real. I only know of myself as capable of anything mysterious.\"\n\nThe dragon pulled away and resumed his feline position. Rhodes watched him settle his head on the large forearms. The dragon slowly closed his eyes and began to mumble softly.\n\nMoments later a blue ring surrounded Shrode and the air began to shimmer, in a blast it went out expanding ever faster. \"We shall see if what you say is true. I may have just invited your doom or only confirmed your existence. Now we wait.\"\n\n\"What was that?\" Rhodes asked. He was still in panic mode, but his mind hadn't shutdown again. He was in awe of everything going on in front of him now. He felt the casting of the spell but he couldn't tell what it's purpose was. \n\n\"I sent a detection wave around the world, it will take some time but after it completes its course it will return here to us. Any magical entity wishing to respond can and any magic entity it finds will be recorded. Do you have any charred lamb available by chance? I do not exactly require food but the flavors given by this realms animals is absolutely divine.\" His long tongue slid around a giant tooth and back in his mouth.\n\n\"I believe I can get lamb at the market but we would need to cook it. Can you teach me a spell?\", Rhodes realized he may have spoken to soon when the dragon's face was abruptly close to his own.\n\n\"If I was your Familiar, I could teach you how to control the heavens and the earth.\" The great black eyes narrowed on Rhodes. \"If you are as you say 'capable' and speaking the truth, I shall reserve my contempt of this situation and allow a pact to be formed. Show me your sparks.\"\n\nRhodes raised his hands, moving his fingers together he could feel the electricity coming down his arms, the sparks leapt between his palms, he slowly pulled them apart until the sparks were gone.\n\n\"Curious, I do believe the 7th Arch-Mage had a similar affinity to lightening. He could call down bolts of lightening, I believe some called him Zeus, although I think he took the name from somewhere. That was quite sometime after the Infallible had left ruling. I believe the Infallible had said to me once, 'Arch-Mages just need a good direction and things will be fine' and then regretted his comment after Zeus tried making himself into different animals to impress the ladies. So long ago, now, you said you could make things cold as well?\"\n\nRhodes looked around him and found a small rock. He placed on the back of his hand and pinched his fingers on the rock. Moist rock frosted at the point of his fingers. \"It only works on the back of my hand, if I do it in my palm it just makes static.\" He held out the rock for the dragon to inspect.\n\n\"Impressive young one. I am curious as to how you found the odd technique of chilling rocks.\" The dragon returned his head once again to his forearms.\n\n\"By accident, I was playing with some glue and had it on the back of my hand. When I went to pull it off it got really cold.\" Rhodes mimicked the action he had used during his discovery.\n\n\"So you have not expounded on your discoveries? Learned to harness them?\", the questions came across full of doubtful belief. The dragon tilted his head and looked at the horizon. \"Looks as if your truth is to be tested.\"\n\nRhodes could see the blue light coming back, it seemed much faster than it was when it left. In a flash it collapsed on where the dragon lie, \"Quite interesting, judging by this, you are possibly the most powerful mage on the globe, but most certainly not the only one hundreds were found. There are still deep magics alive. Interesting that I cannot sense any of the old libraries or arch-mage incantations still active.\"\n\n\"So you will teach me magic?\" Rhodes finally stood.\n\n\"If the pact you agree to, then yes. I am no errand runner, I shall not sacrifice my existence for yours and you shall not draw upon my power unless I consent. Do you understand?\" Rhodes nodded in agreement. The dragon rose to all fours then sat back on his tail. Spreading his forearms wide and extending his wings he engulfed Rhodes' entire view of the sky. \"Repeat these words young one: My heart shall be tied to he that accepts my command. Shrode, I command thee Familiar.\"\n\nRhodes looked at the dragon in front of him. The moon had just made the outline of his great for visible in its entirety, he took a deep breath and began \"My heart shall be tied to he that accepts my command. Shrode, I command thee Familiar.\"",
"Her presence radiated disdain much like the stove radiated heat. Irritation flowed from her in waves and I could feel her icy glare stab between my shoulder blades. If looks could kill, and according to her talented mages could kill with a look, I would be dead many times over. \n\nInstead her disgruntled look amused me and I grinned up at her. “Someone is in a grumpy mood today.”\n\n*And why is that I wonder,* she replied scathingly. Her thoughts coiled around the words and I flinched lightly at her anger. Our empathic link allowed the other to feel what the former was feeling and her thoughts burned with indignation. *You squander your gift, wasteful and aimless. The Gods curse me for making you so talented in a talentless world.*\n\nMy smile grew as I looked back down, shaking the pan with an easy hand. Redolent odors of garlic and onion reached my nose and I sprinkled in a generous pinch of salt. “If I’m such a waste then why don’t you find another?”\n\n*If I could I would have.* Purple eyes glared at me and leaned over, a hard beak dipped to strike at my head. \n\nI dodged the raven’s blow, knowing full well how much it hurt. When I narrowed my eyes at her she huffed, turning on her stand to flash her hindquarters at me. Her tail feathers flicked with irritation and I shook my head. “I don’t think I’m as bad as some I’ve read about in the books. Wilhelm the bloody, Tsoka of the thousand eyes, Quan half hearted-“\n\n*At least they used their talents,* she interrupted, turning to face me again. *They used their magic, they learned, they explored. You do nothing with your abilities.*\n\n“That’s not true,” I replied blandly as strips of chicken fell into the pan. Contact with the oil made a hearty sizzling noise and the aroma grew more savory. “I study when I’m not working. And I’m using my abilities now.”\n\nMy eyes glowed, my normal brown irises shimmered with silver light. I could see where the fire burned hotter, where the wind moved. My movements were swifter, reactions quicker. \n\nShe hissed, pecking moodily at the stand. *On trivial things! Banal and worthless. You have the ability to enact change on a level unseen by most. Reality is yours to command, you determine what laws effect you. And yet you are a cook, a job traditionally held by the low. Preposterous.*\n\n“I like to cook.” She snorted in reply and closed her eyes as I poured soy sauce and sesame oil onto the almost finished dish. I poured it steaming on a plate and handed it to another before looking at the next ticket. “You think I’m not doing anything? That I am not making use of my talent?” Cold silence was my reply and I chuckled. “I think I am.”\n\n*Pray educate me.* The words oozed sarcasm and I laughed again. \n\n“Well, let me ask you. You were telling me about Gwendolyn of Petals?”\n\n*Ah she was a fine magus!* The raven leapt up and clacked her beak. *She took a worn torn land, earth ruined from a war of many years and rebirthed it. She erased the scars of Man and regrew an entire land.*\n\n“And Anazi?”\n\n*Anazi the wise led civilizations for ages. His words laid peace on an unheard of scale. His powers defended a continent from the Other Side. He was clever and brave.*\n\n“So they protected others, gave their gifts, and did what they could to help yes?”\n\n*Obviously.*\n\nI poured a measure of soup into a small dish and set it beside her stand. With a half hearted flap she settled beside it, briefly dipping her beak into it. Then she did it again, and again, until the dish was empty. She fluffed with pleasure then looked startled. *That is filled with a healing draught. I know that taste.*\n\nI nodded. “A mild one, but a potent one. I included an aspect of rejuvenation for fatigue as well. The ingredients were infused with a charm for strength-“\n\n*-and quickness.* she continued, watching me closely. *You have been working enchantments into your cooking.*\n\nI looked her in the eye. “People here are hurting, for food, for security, for comfort. People here are weak, the area is weak. But with my cooking, they can find a little happiness, a little nourishment.” I shrugged, trying to explain my thoughts. “The world wasn’t what it was. It was different then. I don’t know how to be a magus like those before. But if I can help those around me, then maybe I can be a magus that is needed now.”\n\nShe said nothing and I returned to my work. Finally as the rush passed I made a meal for myself, dividing some into a plate that I placed before her. She pecked eagerly at it, her beak working at the food. *You are very odd.*\n\nI chewed and shrugged again, unsure of how to respond. \n\n*It may not be a bad thing however.*"
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[WP] You get a job as a shopkeeper’s assistant in Ohio. You get paid well, and you find it strange that nobody pays for anything, so you confront the manager. He simply says, “you don’t pay with money.”
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"what do you mean by *you don't pay with money*?\", I promptly quipped. \n\n-\"Yeah. You don't pay with money.\" \n\n\"How, then? How are you able to afford paying my wages and keep the shop stocked?\" \n\n-\"I am a millionaire. I pay you and keep the store running out of my pocket.\" \n\n\"Wow, that's really nice of you, boss! I bet the townsfolk really appreciate the charity.\"\n\n-\"...yeeeeeeah, about that.\" \n\n\"Wait... It isn't charity?\" \n\n-\"uhm. I said people don't pay with cash. They pay in ass.\" \n\n\"I don't want to hear any of that.\" My tone changed, I was beyond disgusted by the idea, but then my boss answered: \n\n-\"Yeah this town has reached somewhat of an agreement with me. I provide with my store, and they give *back* to me in exchange. Every single client.\" \n\n\"I quit.\" \n\nI didn't even want my pay. My vision turned bright red and my ears started ringing, disgusted barely makes it justice. Gosh, an elderly lady just came by to buy pickles. \n\nWhile making a move for the front entrance, my now ex boss kept going into detail. \n\n-\"Yeah, I have quite the appetite, and boy you don't know how these people provide, it's the best investment I've ever made! How else could I have banged an entire city?\" \n\nI'm in the parking lot by now, slamming the door on my fucked up Civic, trying also to fit the key in the ignition, while this man has caught up to me, now screaming: \n\n-\"JONAH, YOU GRABBED A BAG OF DORITOS YESTERDAY, YOU NOW HAVE TO PAY.\" \n\nThank God my raggedy ass Honda started that night. ",
"\"Ahahaha.... uhh, I don't follow.\"\n\nWas he fucking with me? John didn't seem like the funny type. During the interview, when I tried cracking some jokes, he didn't even crack a smile.\n\n\"No, I'm not.\" John said, curtly as he picked up a broom to clean.\n\nNo, he's definitely not. I can see it in his eyes, he's telling the truth.\n\n\"Alright, so... you just give things away for free? Mr. Bill Gates over here.\" I smiled. John just stares at me back blankly.\n\n\"I never said they're for free. I said you don't pay with money.\"\n\n\"Alright then, what do you pay with then? Labour? Love? ....Sex?\" I asked the last question half jokingly, half concerned. If I'm in some sort of fucked up sex bartering shop, I need to get the hell out of here.\n\nJohn stares at me again, and then went back to sweeping the floor. What a character, never met a guy like him.\n\nSuddenly, the bell on top of the door rang and in came a flustered woman, hurriedly scanning the room. She was here yesterday, I had seen her buy some expensive earrings.\n\nHer eyes met John across the room and ran to him instantly, falling onto her knees.\n\n\"Please...! PLEASE I want it back!\" She pled to John.\n\nI went over to try to pick her up off the floor, and that's when I saw John smile for the very first time.\n\n\"I WANT MY SOUL BACK.\"",
"You don't question it. It pays well and you like where you work. You go on as usual.\n\nOne day, a tall, red-haired woman enters. Her heels knocking on the old damp cement floor of the shop as she walks along admiring the display cases. Long rows of jewelry and extravigent metals in the displays shine and sparkle as the sequins on her dress reflect the florecent lighting from the flickering bulb above. You are about to ask if she needs help when she shoots you a glance, her lips spreading into a long smile. \n\n\"Hello, I haven't seen you here before.\"\n\n\"Oh, yeah, well I just started this week.\"\n\n\"And how is it?\"\n\nYou can smell her perfume, you think you've smelled it before, or maybe just imagined it when imagining what a beautiful woman must smell like. Its aroma seems so sweet and dense it matches the cherry red of her lipstick.\n\n\"I'm sorry...\"\n\n\"The job, how do you like the job?\" She asks\n\n\"Oh, it's great! I can't believe how much cool stuff Mendo has, and I've met some very cool people ever since I started\"\n\nHer drawn on eyebrow arches as you finish. You feel like you sounded too immature.\n\n\"I mean,\" you stop slouching over the display case as though it was going to catch the drool that was forming in your mouth \"not cool. More.... Sophisticated?\" You struggle to get the thought out.\n\nShe chuckles as your face turns a shade rivaling her lips. \"You're cute. I hope I see you around here more.\" She sends you a playful wink that you are sure was slower than a usual wink. \n\n\"I actually was wondering if you had any books\" she asks, looking around the shop.\n\n\"Yeeah,\" you feel your voice crack and your face burns even hotter. Clearing your throat, you try to make the manliest coughs and grunts, as though you were getting the prepubescent teen that obviously had been hiding in your throat out. \"We have a shelf of some classics over there\" you point to an area in the corner of the shop.\n\n\"Oh, no. I've read all those before\" she pouts and sticks her bottom lip out. \"Could you check in the back and see if there is anything else back there? Something newer.\" \n\nShe watches as you debate leaving the counter unattended.\n\n\"Yeah something a little.... Younger\" she whispers, looking you up and down. \"And thick\"\n\nYou can barely swallow. You nod, afraid your voice will crack again and quickly make your way to the back. You let out a breath of air you didn't even know you were holding in. \n\nGotta hurry. Don't want to leave the shop alone too long.\n\nWould it really matter though? You ponder as you start rummaging through an old heap of various clothes and boxes in the hopes of finding something to pretend you tried to find something that fit her description. Its not as if you can \"steal\" things nobody seems to be paying for.\n\nYou hear the door open and close. You hurry back to greet the next customer, but are surprised to see an empty store. The female's perfume the only thing left of her. \n\nYou let out a groan. You didn't even get her name. Even if she did take something, your only job was to log the name and item she took on the ledger. You go to retrieve the ledger to at least log the items she took, once you locate them. But, as you reach under the counter in the only area not laced in dust your hand fails to land on the cold leather bound ledger.\n\nYour throat stops and your fingertips go cold as you feel your heart drop in your chest. It has to be somewhere else. You stand, awkwardly as you try to retrace every step in your mind from starting your shift. \n\nMaybe the ledger wasn't there when you started!? No. You had looked in it when you first arrived. You looked in it! You must have moved it. But to where? You rake your brain over and over again, but you already know the answer before ending your mental recap. The ledger was there when you went to the back of the shop.\n\nFuck. FUCKING fucks who fuck. Shit fucks. Shitty fucking fuck fucks. You try to think of what to do. She knew you were new, maybe its ok she took it? Maybe she's a friend of the owner? God, you do not want to lose this job. You pull out your phone, trying to think of ANY solution that doesn't require you to tell Mr. Mendo. You slowly dial his number, hoping that after each number pressed, the woman will simply walk back with the ledger. You reach the final number. Swallowing as you press \"call\". \n\nRead comments for the rest",
"I cocked my head to the side and looked at my employer quizzically. I had a strange feeling that I didn't really want the answer to my next question, but I found my mouth opening to ask it all the same.\n\n\"You've been working here for almost a month, right?\" the middle-aged man asked before I could say anything. I nodded and he rubbed at the stubble on his chin, his light grey eyes pondering as he looked down at me. That's not fair. He didn't physically have to look down at me. We were roughly the same height. His presence made me feel feet shorter, though. He turned to his wife, a pretty brunette woman in a dark green sundress at the cash register. \"Mare,\" he said, \"mind the front would you? I'm going to show the new guy the back room.\" The woman looked up from the game she was playing on her phone and smiled knowingly.\n\n\n\"Is it that time already?\" she asked convivially.\n\n\"Yeah, I think so,\" the owner responded and turned toward the back of the store, motioning for me to follow without another word.\n\n\"Have fun, Sweetheart,\" she said to me also waving for me to follow her husband. Something in the deepest part of me told me to run, get out the door and never come back. My feet started to move toward the owner as if under their own power. I followed the owner through the storeroom and back toward his office. I'd never been this far back into the building before. It simply wasn't allowed. The older man took a set of keys off of his belt and they jangled happily as he unlocked the office door. I don't know what I was expecting, but it just looked like a normal office to me. He ushered me in and then used the same key ring to unlock a filing cabinet.\n\n\"Have a seat there,\" he said. I took the seat he had offered, in a daze almost, and he pulled a file folder from the cabinet and handed it to me. \"Open it up and tell me what you see.\" I did so. Inside the folder hundreds of receipts, some dating back as far as ten years. It didn't seem possible so many could fit in this tiny folder.\n\n\"They're...\" I started to say and paused to turn a few over in my hand. \"They're just receipts from the store.\"\n\n\"Right,\" the owner said, \"but look closer.\" I did. I poured over every inch of several of the receipts, but saw nothing different.\n\n\"Like I said,\" I told him, \"they're receipts.\" He rubbed at his stubble again and studied me a moment before taking a seat on the edge of his desk and crossing his arms in front of him.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, a bit of consternation in his voice, \"I know I didn't misread you. It must not have manifested yet.\" He took the folder from me and removed a single receipt, holding it up for me to see. \"I'm a sorcerer. So are you.\" I gaped at him.\n\n\"What?\" I said in awe. \"Impossible. There's no such thing as sorcerers and magic. And I'm pretty sure I would know if I was one.\" He simply smiled and shook his head.\n\n\"Not necessarily,\" he said. \"If you haven't hit your breaking point yet, then you wouldn't have manifested. You see, I hired you to take over this store when I'm gone. Our business is kindness.\" Apparently, I still had a slack-jawed look on my face because he continued. \"On every one of these receipts is imprinted a magical contract. When it's signed, the contract goes into effect.\"\n\n\"What does the contract do?\" I asked against my better judgment. \"For that matter, if it's magical shouldn't people be signing in blood or something?\" My employer let out a hearty chuckle and shook his head once more.\n\n\"God no, Son,\" he said. \"I'm no Warlock. A simple signature will do, but it has to be given freely. The contract is simply a minor compulsion spell that compels the subject to do one random act of kindness per day.\" I thought on that for a moment, staring at the folder in his hands. \"If you're wondering if the customers know...no and yes. They know there's a catch. They're pretty sure it isn't nefarious, as we've been around for almost two decades now. I don't think any of them know it's magic.\"\n\n\"Why?\" I asked. I had meant to say something eloquent and meaningful, but that was all that would come out.\n\n\"I told you. Our business is kindness. I woke one day, shortly after realizing my full potential as a sorcerer, and decided I didn't like the state the world was in. Did I go about killing people who did bad things? No no...that would make me worse than the atrocities I wanted to get rid of. When I met Mare, she knew me for what I was. She's not a sorcerer herself, but her father was, and she's sensitive to magical energies. I told her on our third date that I wanted to make the world a better place. I had already sort of worked out the idea of the contract, but the shop was her idea.\"\n\n\"That's akin to rape,\" I blurted out without thinking. He cocked an eyebrow at me, but didn't rush to defend himself, so I pressed on. \"You're taking away people's free will.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" he said, not seeming the least bit ruffled. \"How am I taking away free will?\"\n\n\"Your spell forces them to do something they might not otherwise want to do! Kindness means nothing unless you have the free will to choose to do it!\"\n\n\"I told you, Son. The customers know there's a catch, but they come in anyway. I merely use the inherent greed of the human condition to do my job for me. I don't use magic to make them come into the shop. I don't force them to sign the receipt. Besides, the compulsion wears off after a few weeks. By that time, most people are so addicted to the warm and fuzzies that come with helping someone just to help them that they continue doing good without being compelled.\"\n\n\"It still isn't right,\" I said, my earlier conviction waning. \"It still seems wrong somehow.\"\n\n\"Look,\" my employer said, suddenly very serious, \"what I do here doesn't hurt anyone. No one is rushing to give their life savings to a charity or jumping in front of trains to save lives. It's simple stuff, like holding the door for someone or paying a dollar and change to buy coffee for the person behind them in line at a gas station. When I started my work, this town was miserable with angry and hurting people. In the twenty-four years since those doors first opened, people have become kinder to each other and our little town has become a place where people want to live to get away from the hatred and violence of the big cities.\"\n\nWhen he had finished, I just sat there, staring at the floor. My head was starting to hurt. Part of me wanted to be angry at this man that I had started to like so much, but what he was saying made so much sense. Who was really getting hurt in all this? No one. After a long several minutes of silence, I felt his hand on my shoulder and looked up to see him squatting in front of me.\n\n\"Do me a favor,\" he said. I nodded. \"Take the rest of the day and the weekend off. Mare and I can manage without you. If you still feel so strongly that what I'm doing is wrong come Monday, don't come in. I'll pay you two months wages for your troubles and you can find yourself a different job.\"\n\n\"And if I do come back?\" I asked.\n\n\"When you come back,\" he said, emphasizing that he knew my mind was already made up, \"we'll start trying to break you so that power of yours can manifest. After that, I'll start teaching you how to run this place properly. Like I said, I want you to take over for me when I'm gone.\" He stood and offered me a hand. I shook it rose from the chair slowly. When I reached the door to the office, I turned.\n\n\"You're sure this is okay?\" I asked.\n\n\"Been doing it for over two decades, Son,\" he replied. \"People in this town have never been happier.\" I nodded and left without another word. When I returned to work on Monday, it was with something of a renewed vigor for life and what was to come. Marielle poured me a cup of black coffee and my employer and I retired to the stockroom to start breaking my walls as Master Sorcerer and Apprentice.",
"I was down on my luck and going door to door looking for work. Most places told me to apply online but I was tired of sitting in front of my computer at home waiting for my power or internet to be shut off for lack of payment. I probably walked this street a dozen times in my life, but this was the first time I had ever seen this shop. \n\nWhite stone building with frosted mosaic glass depicting a tree in each window; one tree was barren branched on a white field in one side and with leaves and flowers on the other half. The second window the tree bore fruit on one half and autumn leaves on the other. Above the door were two lanterns with some sigil that I didn't recognize, maybe runes from Norse times. \n\nI entered the store and the man behind the counter couldn't have been less than 80 years old. \"If you find anything you like come and talk to me before you leave.\" He said between his gasping breaths. He was a small man smoking a cigarette while hooked up to an oxygen tank. His white suit with black pinstripes drew attention to him. \n\nThe shop was a very simple affair with bottles of miscellaneous items labeled in a language I couldn't read, let alone try to identify. Some items glowed, others seemed to absorb light. In a few I swear the animals that were preserved watched me pass by their thick wooden stands. \n\nI walk up to the counter. \"I'm looking for a job.\" I say to him. He looks at me with an appraising eye and comes out from behind the counter for a closer look. \n\n\"Here's the deal then, I'll hire you on and pay you enough to live comfortably, but not extravagantly for one season. In return you will work the front counter of this shop on the days it is opened and you will tell no one of the shops existence and you will not initiate any contact with anyone outside the store relating to matters within. If you do, you will owe me a boon. Do we have a deal?\"\n\nWhat kind of messed up terms of employment is that? Seasonal work? I can't wrap my mind around it, it's just too strange so I ask the only question that comes to mind. \"Medical and dental?\" \n\n\"I will pay all costs while you work for me.\" He says as he extends his hand. I shake on it. I never filled out any paperwork. \n\nThe next day I start my job and no one enters the store. I'm allowed to do as I please according to the manager but I must pay full attention when a customer is in the store. I work there for over a week without a customer coming or going. \n\nAs I head home I start to worry about the power being shut off finally or if I have enough food to last to pay day. I check the home phone when I get home and there are no new voicemails. It's been a whole week without a debt collector calling me. Just before I head to the kitchen I hear a knock on my door and a delivery boy shoves his delivery into my door and has me sign a receipt before bolting down the hall. All my cards are canceled but the address is right. I thank my lucky stars and settle in for a relaxing weekend. \n\nI return to work and finally have a customer, a woman in a business suit enters the store and looks at the jars and labels. When she finally chooses a flask of a glowing navy blue liquid the manager comes out from the back of the store and talks quietly in a seating area in the corner. They shake hands and she leaves. No money changes hands. \n\nThis happens every time a customer enters the store, never once do I see any money change hands. No contracts no receipts, I never once open the till except to figure out how it works. The only time I feel of any use is when I see a teenage boy try to pocket one of the bottles. I tackle him to the floor before he can leave the shop and the manager takes him to the back for a while before the boy skulks out of the door. \n\nHow does a shop run without any money? No contracts, no income from what I can tell, but all the same I get enough money to pay my bills and keep me comfortable. It was three months after I started when I was closing up the shop when the manager comes out to talk to me. \n\n\"You've been a good employee, and I would like to keep you on for a year and a day starting now under the same terms.\" I was shocked. I sat around watching Hulu and playing games for most of my days, how did I become so lucky? But the question still burned in the back of my mind. \n\n\"I just have a question before I agree.\" The manager nods and waves his hand telling me to continue. \"I never see money change hands here. How does this shop run without money? The same bills are in the till now that were here when I started.\"\n\nHe smiled, a little to widely, his teeth I finally noticed were filed down to points like a predator. \"That's simple, I don't take payments in money, as I am not interested in money.\" He starts walking down one of the wide isles. \"Do you have any idea what are actually in these jars?\" I shake my head, I really never gave it any thought. \n\nHe pulls a jar down full of a green mist. \"This is the strength of a ogre.\" He replaces the jar and picks up a test tube with an amber liquid. \"This is enough unfortunate circumstances to keep someone busy for a week.\" He places the tube back in its rack and pulls out a large bottle with a preserved creature inside. \"And eating this will protect you from grievous harm for an hour.\" He finally places the jar on the shelf and starts walking back to me. \n\n\"With glorious treasures like these, who needs money, but there is a debt, because the shelves must be stocked you see. You may be wondering how you harvest the strength of a ogre, or siphon off unfortunate events, or even hunt a Hedge Lizard. To know those secrets you must agree to work at my shop for Seven years under these same terms and I will also grant you a boon per year. Do we have a deal?\""
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[WP] As far as you knew, your father died when you were young. Due to the lack of a father and an alcoholic mom, you turned to a life of crime. After your death, you’re sent to the fiery depths of hell. Upon your arrival, Satan greets you and says, “Hey sport! You here to give your old man a visit?”
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I did my best to swallow, my throat a sandpapered cave and my tongue swollen and dead in my mouth. Sweat beaded on my upper lip, dripped down my neck, soaked under my arms. The heat roiled over me in waves worse than any fever, my skin pinching tight across my forearms and cheeks where the sweat was evaporating as fast as it could appear. My hair frizzed and curled and stuck to my scalp in disgusting oily clumps and my lungs - oh God I was going to pass out.\n\nI can’t breathe.\n\nI was next in line. My brain was humming with blood and I could barely think. \n\nI’m next in line, just get up to the counter and give the lady your number and it will be over.\n\nThe woman lifted dead eyes to my direction and waited.\n\nMy turn. Shit.\n\nOne heavy foot up and clumsily down. I flash a glance at the woman as apology. The next and my knee buckles and then three quick steps and I’m crashing into the countertop with all my weight. My elbows slide immediately across the countertop, sweat streaking behind like snail slime. \n\nShaking, I reach a hand into my left breast pocket, wincing at the gunshot wound bleeding freely from my liver. I pull out the folded documents and set them on the warm granite with a gentle thwack. Even the brief moment of relief is spoiled by the heat. My feet are soaked in my boots. Another labored breath. My vision darkens and sparkles begin to swim in and over. \n\n“I’m going to pass out now,” I manage to whisper to the clerk before collapsing to the floor completely.\n\n...\n\nImages swirl before me. Blood. Screaming. A pop louder than any joint crack and an explosion of pain blooming from my core.\n\n...\n\nI’m reclined in a leather armchair before a roaring fireplace. Poking at the white embers was a man who seemed all too familiar and so foreign... otherworldly. The sheer size of him was at least twice my own; impossibly thin legs that were wrong in a way I couldn’t place. Thick dark curls rolled down just past the mans shoulders. As he turned I felt my eyes begin to roll back again. Hidden in the angle of his posture were two sharp horns protruding from his forehead, and what I had mistakenly assumed to be a belt twitched as a very live forked tail.\n\n“Chip right off the old block!” Roared the devil. “Bout time you came and visited your old man!”\n\n...\n\nMy mind reeled. Perhaps it snapped. I flashed back to my mother, drunk in the doorway of the bathroom, watching me play with matches in the tub. \n\n“You look just like your father,” she had sneered, smudged lipstick making her words slur in the air. She had laughed, then, a mirthless laugh only a woman like her could laugh, forced to live long after her will had left. “Your father was the devil.” She had slugged back another three shots in one gulp, then. Adjusted her weight, leaning in the creaking doorframe. Suddenly something struck her as funny and she laughed for a long few moments until the match pinched between my plump fingers had burned me. The light flickered out of the room. \n\n“An absolute devil.” She had mumbled it more to herself as I heard the creak of her stumbling out the doorway. I snapped my fingers and lit the match from the flame on my thumb again, the tub illuminated once more.\n\n... \n\nI awoke again in the leather armchair. This time, sitting on the stool next to me sat the beast known as Satan himself.\n\n“I have to say I can’t even be mad it took you so long to visit!” There was such a strange look in his eye. I barely recognized it. “We have so much to catch up on. But first, here, drink this.” VHe passed me a flask. \n\nIt felt like fire going down but even as I choked and spluttered I could feel the heat around me lessen. Everything dulled to a comforting warmth. The pain in my core ebbed. My eyes opened and I swear I could see clearer. \n\n“We’ll get you patched right up and get you back to giving ‘em hell in no time, champ.” Pride swelled his voice and threatened to wet his eyes.\n\nI chuckled and gripped his hand warmly.\n\n“Good to finally meet you, dad.”"
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[WP] You're trapped in a room with no memory of what has happened. You have blood on your hands but it's not yours and you're completely alone...
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The only thing audible from the outside was the faint echo of banging and the nonsense mumbling of a voice.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nFrom the other side of the scene however, Cassandra was yelling at the top of her lungs. Unable to form words in shock as she banged her bloody fists against a doorless wall, leaving fresh stains on the otherwise stark white room. She didn't know what was happening and it terrified her. It would probably surprise anybody to wake up in a room with bloody hands and none of your memories. She'd done as best as she could to wipe it off on her clothes, having already thrown her now-maroon overcoat off to the side. Despite her efforts though, it never seemed to leave. It wasn't her blood however, for she suffered no physical injuries as far as anybody knew.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nOther than her jacket however, there was one last item found within the corner. It was a knife, stabbed into the wall cleanly with an eggshell handle. After what felt like excruciating hours to the observer Cassandra would eventually find the little Easter egg, using what little strength she had left to yank it from the wall. Despite looking straightly put in it was painfully hard to get out, only releasing when it would perfectly fly out of the wall and nail her in the eye. After this many physically demanding puzzles, she was bound to be getting more injured with each step along the way.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWhat had originally been nonsense mumbling from the outside had turned into audibly screaming from the now semi-blinded woman. A man stared blankly at his desk and sighed, resting his forehead on the edge as he wordlessly scribbled words down on paper with a sigh. \"It took her long enough..\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWhen the pain had ceased to become a dull roar Cassandra was finally able to stand up, staggering as she took a step forward only to fall back to her knees. She began sobbing, much like a child would as she prayed to some unknown god to save her. Cassandra had successfully pulled out the knife and with it, a piece of the wall. In this newly created hole a figure was visible. It was faded, nearly gray in color. With worn muscles she'd pull the figure out, the shape would be recognized as one of a small child. She began to wail uncontrollably.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Oh.. So she found it... I guess that's the fourth attempt complete...\" He stood up, tossing a small clipboard to a young man walking by. \"Remove her memories of this room again. This time keep her sister in the room, we need to understand how this affects her problem-solving\""
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Feel free to correct my grammar, I'm new here :)
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[WP] In the future, all the judges in court are replaced by an AI to avoid all subjectivity. As more complicated cases start to appear, the AI makes more and more questionable decisions. People started to question the morality of the AI.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Rick Spencer sat on an uncomfortable wooden bench at the back of the courtroom, watching the trial with the rest of the journalists. By all accounts, it was a relatively minor case: a consumer electronics company had broken several finance laws, and was being sued into bankruptcy. By the end of the day they’d be out on the street, and investors all over the world would receive yet another harsh lesson in trusting for-profit corporations with their financial future. \n \nFrom behind its podium, the AI judge raised an articulated chrome hand to signify that it had finished its deliberation. It had taken about three seconds—not surprising, considering it was programmed with encyclopedic knowledge of the law. These days, most trials were over mere minutes after the arguments had been submitted. \n \nSpencer leaned forward eagerly, flexing his little travel-pencil over and over again in one hand. This was it. Six months of exhaustive research, hanging on a single court case. If he was right… he shook his head. No use getting ahead of himself. \n \nThe humanoid machine slowly turned its chrome simulacrum of a face, sweeping the audience with backlit, neon-blue eyes to gather their attention. “In the case of Sky Cloud Electronics vs the state of New Seattle,” it said, “I find Sky Cloud Electronics… not guilty.” \n \nThe pencil snapped. The gathered journalists erupted into questions. \n \n“Judge!” shouted a well-dressed woman to Spencer’s right. “Judge, how is this possible? Sky Cloud blatantly broke the law!” \n \nThe silver AI raised its other hand, gesturing for silence. The muttering died down immediately—everyone new how the judges worked; if an automated ruling was questioned, they were required to explain it in full. They were legal machines, constrained by design to work within the confines of the most current laws. It was right in the company tagline: “No Sentience Means No Bias.” They would not—*could not*—rule on anything but the facts. It was why nearly every country in the world had adopted them without complaint. There had to be a reason for the unexpected decision. \n \n“Your confusion is understandable,” said the machine. Its calm, focus-tested voice was amplified to carry easily throughout the room. “But the specifics of the case are unusual. Due to the precedent set in the 2047 decision on James vs Miantech International, current law states that Sky Cloud Entertainment’s losses technically fall under the category of Individual Employee Discretion. This means that, while the company will need to repay its investors on a timeline I will set forth, no punishable crime was committed.” \n \nThere was a sudden flurry of activity as the prosecutor and half a dozen spectators reached for their tablets, furiously looking up the fifty-year-old case in question. Spencer sat back, knowing it wasn’t worth the trouble. “No Sentience Means No Bias.” The Judge was bound to be correct. They were always, perfectly, correct. \n \n“To continue,” interrupted the judge, causing a sudden pause in the bustle, “it is my opinion that this law was not designed to apply to the case presented today. It is only because of the current, possibly insufficient, wording of the statutes that Sky Cloud Entertainment was cleared of wrongdoing. As per regulations, I will be submitting the existing law to the Legal Oversight Committee for human evaluation, with a recommendation for how it can be amended to prevent such rulings in the future.” \n \n“God damn it!” shouted the prosecutor. He shoved his chair back as he stood up, crumpling his notes and stuffing them back into his leather briefcase. “These fucking drones never should’ve been approved,” he muttered, throwing a hateful glare at the silver automaton behind the podium. \n \n“I am sorry for any inconvenience,” replied the judge. Then, raising its eyes again: “Case dismissed.” \n \nSpencer grinned, snatching up his bag and coat and heading for the door. \n \n---",
"Look, I- all I'm saying is, do you think it's *right*?\n\nI don't mean - I don't mean, obviously, that I think anybody should *die*. You know I'm strictly against the death penalty, yeah? I was the first to raise a glass when the system went up in the Hague, first of the first. Finally, I thought, no more of those bribes - yeah, we all know about the fascist gold and black bonds, don't we? - no more pulling strings or favours for favours.\n\nFinally we'd get a little *impartiality* for those binding judgements. Hell, the whole *world* thought we'd finally made a good choice. Just look at the sales figures for sci-fi, or the watch stats on Tubeflix -- everyone wanted a piece of the Three Laws future, didn't they?\n\nAll that talk about 'social credits' and 'calculated labour judgements'. No bankers would be bailing out with their golden parachutes. An AI judge doesn't see the numbers in your cheque-book, it just weighs your crime on Justice's rusty scales. We all tuned in, that first case, didn't we? There were *banner ads* from IntCourt! It was a slam dunk! Any fool coulda seen the lady was guilty!\n\nAnd what did freakin' gavelbot do? It lets her off with a restricted travel pass and stipulations for future investment in charities. After what she did, all that money she stole -- and it just tells her, no need to pay it back? It's done the math, and this is where it should go? What did they do, accidentally drop a line of code that said COMMUNISM EQUALS TRUE? Geez!\n\nBut judgement's binding, and so off she goes. What? How'd it turn out? Fine, I suppose. I didn't really look into it more than that. Probably helped a few people get access to housing, food, whatever. Ain't my purview.\n\nNext case - they pick up a real doozy. No slap on the wrist for this one. They got that uh... what's-her-face, the Chian Dictator, Suo Min? The Tyrant of Bole? Ordered all those villages burned during the civil war? Nobody even *knew* how much pain and suffering she was responsible for, but that was the one they pinned on her. Again: a slam dunk.\n\nAnd our electric judge tells her to pack her bags and head back home to join the work crews rebuilding infrastructure in Chian. Not a day of prison. No shame. And- yeah, I know the sentence is for life, but- *no*, that's not the *point*, she should- she should *pay* for what she did to those people, right?\n\nJust- just 'giving back' ain't enough, you know? What happened to retribution? A little suffering? Something for the victims, you know? I mean, not for- not for *me*. I, uh, I don't care, either way. But they deserve it, right? They suffered, so surely they'd want to see *her* suffer in turn, wouldn't they?\n\nShouldn't someone be punished for this? Computer can't quantify pain, can it? It can't draw blood, or any of that old eye-for-an-eye business. But, I mean, *shouldn't* it? Shouldn't they program that in?\n\nAll I'm saying is, I think we got the wrong *kind* of morality."
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[WP] "You clearly understand who I am. So I will ask you one more time. What possessed you to try to steal from me?"
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Honestly? No clue.\"\n\nHer eyes narrowed at me. One was a bright amber, the other a dull blue. I had always found that her attractive feature. Physically at least.\n\nKai had been a mystery to me for so damned long until just a year ago when I finally learned her little secret. To think the lonely, rich orphan girl was actually a werewolf. Not like a 'full-moon means fur, fangs, and lots of ripped clothing' kind of werewolf. When she changed it was... the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Her copper skin had changed into swirling mists of white fog that eventually engulfed her entire body, clothes and all. In her place was a majestic white wolf with her eyes.\n\nLong story short? I got interested. I started stalking her. I feel like a creep - God, when haven't I? - for it but I couldn't help myself. It's a weak excuse for a weak person, but it is the best I have. Now, I have broken in and am currently on my knees, out of excuses, out of ideas and probably out of time.\n\n\"Even though I warned you about lying,\" she said slowly, \"you still did it. Yet...I don't think you did it out of malice or intent.\"\n\n\"...what?\" That took me by complete surprise, probably because she was right.\n\n\"You seem lonely and full of self-hatred,\" she continued, \"things I can understand all too well.\"\n\n\"Really?!\"\n\n\"Yes. That is why I have an offer for you. Stay in my home for one year, with me. It will be a form of repayment for your attempted robbery.\"\n\n\"And if I refuse?\"\n\n\"I will render you speechless.\"\n\nI didn't really need to think about it. It was a deal.",
"*He was old.* \n\nShe had precisely studied his daily routine, never missing a single detail. No matter how small it would not go unnoticed. He had the habits of an old man, he followed the same routine everyday. \n\n*A retired soldier perhaps?*\n\nHe got up early and went to bed late. He went out to buy bread first thing in the morning. He broke fast at 7 o’clock sharp, ate lunch at half past twelve and ate dinner a little over 6 o’clock. He spent most of his time reading: classics, nothing out of the ordinary. \n\nNothing from his daily going-ons seemed to suggest anything strange went on inside the house. He was a perfectly normal old man. \n\n*Oh how wrong she was...*\n\nShe prided herself on her skill to noticed *everything*. She had been unusually observant as a child and her “activities” necessitated an attention to small details. \n\nEverything about the situation had the appearance of being normal. Yet she could feel **something**, the feeling in the back of your mind that kept you away from danger. An instinct of sorts. \n\nLights flashed from underneath his door, people felt uneasy around the house, cold drafts appeared out of nowhere and the shivers that ran down her back each time she neared the mansion warned her of something *unatural*. \n\nShe had found a newspaper once. 29, that’s how many people had disappeared around the district in the last few years. Yet strangely the press had only mentioned it in the passing. Nor had there been any investigations. It almost seemed like a coverup, like the Theocracy was hiding something bigger than usual.\n\n*It was a simple job, nothing more, nothing less. She hadn’t intended for it too become something **this** big.*\n\n\nLord Roose Janys. No wife nor children. He had been awarded a lordship a few decades ago for “services to the crown”. He had no friends, he lived alone. It wasn’t a lot of information but she had to make do. \n\n\n~_~_~_~\n\n\nThe full moon. \n\nA celebration and a superstition. Nobody was allowed to leave their house. Quite useless but it was the Prophet’s word and so people listened. \n\n*She wish she had listened, acted like a good slave. Everything would have turned out for the best.*\n\nThe window. It was always open. An alluring entrance for the most experienced. She slipped into the cavernous hallway. \n\nIt was lined with rows of paintings. The moonlight from outside casting strange shadows across the most long corridor. \n\nShe walked steadily, neither too fast nor slow. The floorboards did not creak for she was as silent as a fox. Small hasty steps led her to a metaphorical crossroad. \n\nShe had reached the end of the hallway. To her right lied another corridor, this one lined with dimly lit lanterns and a vibrant red carpet of intricate craftsmanship. \n\nThe corridor to her left was dark. A single ostentatious door. Light, a red light shone out from beneath. \n\nShe approached, taking carefully measured breaths. In what seemed like an instant she arrived at the door. \n\nShe drew close to it. Hearing nothing, she decided, albeit rather hastily, to open it. \n\nThe room was small, the tiny desk that sat at the back of the room was its only real characteristic. \n\nShe advanced warily, barely noticing the certificate that was hung up on the wall. \n\n*”For services to the crown, Roose Janys is permitted to continue his experiments for the benefit of our Theocracy.”*\n\nThe desk was littered with documents, each detailing an experiment more horrifying than the last. She stifled a gasp only to realise that someone was behind her. \n\nShe turned around. \n\n“Why are you here, little girl?”\n\nShe fumbled, trying to think of a way out of the extremely problematic situation. \n\n*”You clearly understand who I am. So I will ask you one more time. What possessed you to try to steal from me?”*\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] After not going to work for a day, you return to hear your boss commending you on the good work you did yesterday.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
" I wake up with a splitting headache. Rolling over to my left I wince from the sharp pain in my back and slowly open my eyes to see the time. The alarm clock reads \"5:17 AM.\" The only thing that will make this pain go away is some ibuprofen or something. Reaching over to my nightstand I feel around for my phone, but it doesn't seem to be there. I slowly roll out of bed - afraid something will be pulled if I move too fast and shuffle to the edge of the room. Both arms are extended in front of me so I don't walk into something. Eventually, I reach the light switch and turn the lights on. The contrast from being in total darkness leaves me temporarily blinded. Wow, my bedroom is a mess. My cat is sleeping on the floor beside the bed and my phone is peeking out beneath his orange striped fur. \"You thought you could hide it from me didn't you.\" My voice sounds a lot deeper than usual. He goes into a big stretch and nudges my leg. When he looks up at me, though, he looks scared and quickly runs away. Strange. I unlock my phone to 25 notifications all from various friends who kept me company only a few hours ago. They vary from \"Had fun with you, Jess. We should hang out more often!\", to \"Let me know when you get home.\" One stood out to me though. It is from my closest friend of the group, Rachel: \"Hey Jess please be careful driving home. That guy just left right after you. Maybe you should just come back and stay the night here.\" I don't remember anything about some guy at the party. There is actually no recollection of even driving home last night. Frustration comes over me and the memories are just not there. I look down and begin to panic after realizing, the clothes I'm wearing are not my own. The pain in my back is worsening so I head into my bathroom to get some medicine. When I look in the mirror the person staring back at me is... not me. She is dark-skinned with short, black curly hair and all of her features are wrong. *What is going on? I must be dreaming.* I slap myself repeatedly, but nothing happens. I get frantic and start to scream. I call Rachel to tell her what has happened but when she answers she doesn't recognize my voice and thinks I have the wrong number. It's now 6:00. I'm supposed to be at work in 2 hours, but there's no way I can go - they won't even recognize. I don't understand what's happening, but I text my boss \"I won't be in today, feeling really under the weather.\" No response. The next several hours are filled with terror, frustration, and agony. So many thoughts racing through my head. *What happened yesterday? How did I end up in someone else's body?* I can't eat or really do anything but stand there frozen wondering who this person is that I'm looking at. Eventually, the lack of eating gets to me and exhaustion sets in. I can't help but crawl back in bed and fall asleep. When I wake up the clock again reads \"5:17 AM.\" I tell myself maybe what happened yesterday was just a bad dream. I reach over to grab my phone, which is on my nightstand where I left it. There is one text from Rachel *Are you OK? What was that phone call about? Call Me!\"* along with 3 missed calls. It must have actually happened. Feeling my way through the room and into the bathroom, my eyes don't want to open out of fear of what they'll see. I slowly open them and let out a sigh of relief to see that I am myself again. I eat a big breakfast and prepare myself for the speech I'm going to get from my boss today. She's all about working even though you are contagious and should be home. I had a huge project due yesterday, along with a brainstorming meeting for my next project so hopefully, she will forgive me. Surprisingly she never responded at all to my text yesterday which leaves me a bit worried. The receptionist greets me as I walk in and says with a smile, \"Nice job yesterday!\" I brush her off. She probably mixed it up with another day. At my cubicle, there are notes everywhere saying, \"Awesome job Jess,\" \"Keep up the amazing work,\" etcetera. *What are they talking about... I wasn't here yesterday.* My boss sees me arrive and walks towards me. I begin the conversation before she can, \"Hey I'm really sorry about yesterday, I can explain.\" \"Jess you have nothing to be sorry about. You completed your project on the deadline - amazing work by the way - and your ideas are the best you've ever had.\" \"There must be some kind of misunderstanding... Didn't you receive my test yesterday?\" \"No... did you text me after our celebratory team meeting?\" *What is she talking about?* \"Look yesterday was a big day for you I'm sure you're mind is just trying to process it all. I'll have Alyssa bring you a coffee.\" I try to log onto my computer but my password isn't working. After 3 unsuccessful attempts, it locks me out. I rest my head on the desk trying to figure out what is going on when I hear a strangely familiar voice say \"Here's your coffee, Jess.\" I take a large gulp of coffee and slowly I turn to look I see the girl who woke up as yesterday. \"Glad you're feeling better today,\" she says ominously. My sight begins to blur and my body becomes paralyzed. "
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[WP] You pull up to a red light. In front of you is a car...... your own car. Confused as to what’s happening, you see the light turn green. As the car drives away, a semi-truck crashes into it at high speeds. You blink twice in horror, and suddenly the crash is gone.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"WHO RUN THE WORLD? GIRLS🎵 \nWHO RUN THE WORLD? GIRLS🎵 \n \nHere's the real question. Why is 102.9 \"The Flow\" playing Beyonce at 4:54am? It's too early to be this bumpin. \n \nBut i can't say that i hate it. The song is pretty catchy, plus it's definitely keeping me awake. Only 2 more hours to drive. Basically all high way too. \n \nIf only my phone didn't die so i could play my own music. But it's my fault. I knew I needed to be home for my sister Jesse's graduation ceremony at 1pm. It's a 6 hour drive from my dorm to my parent's driveway. I planned to get a good early nights sleep and hit the road at 5:45am. What I actually did was go to my homie Troy's house party.... kinda... \n \nThe thing was I never planned to go party tonight. I knew i had an early trip and I knew I'd see all my boys again fall semester. \n \nThe problem was slyly presented by Troy at dinner. \"You know Amber is going abroad fall semester right? If you wanna take your shot she's coming to the house party tonight\" he said smirking. \n \n\"Bro don't do this to me man. I gotta drive home super early.\" I replied. \n \n\"All I'm saying is, you know she's gonna meet some stud in Italy this fall and you'll have no chance after that. Just come for a bit and head home early. You have to tell her bye right?\" He said now grinning ear to ear. \n \nHe knew he had me. He knew how i felt about Amber Wilkerson. She was flawless. Stunningly gorgeous, while still being the nicest and most fun person I know. I had said on multiple occasions that I'd walk to the ends of the Earth for a chance with her, so my hands were kind of tied if i only had to walk across campus. \n \n\"I'm leaving at 10.\" I say, as i grab my backpack off the back of my chair. \n \n\"Make it 11! I'll tell her you're coming!!\" He yelled at my back as I walked out the door. \n \nStill surprised to walk into an almost empty room, I'm glad i had my packing done before I decided on going to the party. \n \n\"If I stay at the party until 11pm, I'll only realistically get 5 hours of sleep before the drive. I should take a quick nap now.\" I thought. \n \n7:03pm. 15% battery. 0 notifications. \n \n\"Shit,\" I muttered as i reached into my backpack and grab my charger. I plug in my phone on the desk and lay down on the uncovered extra long mattress. I sighed. \n \n10:34pm. 74% battery. 19 notifications. \n \n\"SHIT!\" \n \nI got up as quickly as possible and grabbed my phone. I texted Troy to tell him I was on my way. I didn't bother reading his other messages just to save time. I grab my duffle bag and backpack and head to the car. \n \nA 4 minute drive that felt like 30 had me tense. Almost sprinting into the house, I finally get inside to see a very bare bones party. Troy and the boys are all hammered. But most of the other guests had left. \n \n\"Zack! You're here!....You didn't read my texts did you?\" Troy say to me with a drunken giggle. \n \n\"God. Damnit.\" I say as I speed read the messages. Cops. Party is over. Amber waited for me. Don't bother coming. \n \n\"Yeah... She really wanted to say goodbye... Don't look so down though, I gave her your number. You're welcome. Now let's get drunk\" \n \n\"I can't I got a six hour drive in like 6 hours. Though I don't know how I'm gonna fall back asleep now.\" I responded thinking out loud. \n \n\"Bro. Have like drinks with me, sober up. Drive home. Then sleep til graduation. Boom. Porem solve.\" Troy slurred. \n \nSo... That's what we did. Looking back it wasn't really problem solved. \n \nEither way I hit the road around 1am with a slight buzz. It wasn't until around 3 that i realized my phone charger was back on my desk in my empty dorm room. \n \nIt's just past 5am now. It's been pretty dead on the road aside from some trucks and a few early morning commuters. Can't imagine how far they must be going if they are up this early. \n \nI pull up to a red light with only 1 car in front of me. If it wasn't the only car i probably wouldn't notice that it is actually the same make and model as my car. Same color even! 2009 Blue Ford Focus. I always enjoy seeing my car twins. \n \nAs the light turns green the focus in front of me starts going through the intersection. Then coming from across the driver side, an 18- wheeler \"Dasani\" truck ran the red light to the left and barreled directly into the focus. Both cars were now smashed together in a symphony of metal. The horn from the focus has not stopped sounding since the collission. \n \nI must have been sitting here for 10 seconds in shock. I don't have a phone to call 911. I'm gonna have to go help them. I close my eyes and let out a sigh, readying myself to open the door. As I open my eyes to go, I see everything is gone. The truck. The focus. The horn. I'm just sitting at a Green light. \n \nThat was so weird. I don't think I drank enough earlier to make that up. But I've heard sleep deprivation can really mess with your head. Just a couple hours left. \n \nI keep thinking about the party. I cannot believe I missed amber. Now i won't see her until January. This sucks. Plus I'm getting into the mountains now, which means no radio. And no cell phone. Just me and my thoughts. Goody. \n \nAnother hour down and I'm coming up to my favorite part of the trip now. The bridges. Two long suspension bridges that i have always loved riding over ever since i was a kid. There is a little parking lot i could pull over in and walk out over the water. Maybe i can see the sunrise from there! \n \nI slow down as I approach the parking lot entrance. It's really hard to see anything right now outside of my head light range, but i don't see any other cars yet. \n \nAs I turn into the parking lot and head to the spots closest to the bridge, my stomach sinks. \nThere at the spot right next to the bridge walkway, is a familiar 2009 blue ford focus. On any other day, I would have continued over and tried to catch the sunrise. But not today. \n \nI turn around and exit the parking lot immediately. I start heading across the bridge on my homebound route. I decide to go slow and enjoy the bridges, my favorite part of the trip. \n \nAs I get about about halfway across i see what i believe to be a morning jogger up on the right. I near the distant figure and realize he not jogging at all. In fact he is standing still, looking out towards the water. I continue to drive towards him, now about 200 feet away. The closer i get, a feeling of dread grows in the deepest pits of my stomach. \n \nIt's me. He's on the bridge. It was his car. But, he looks just like me. I don't understand what's happening at all. \n \nAs drive the last stretch towards him his head snapped in my direction and he flashed me a smile. He then lept off the bridge. \n \nUnlike with the green light earlier. I floored it off the rest of the bridge. I just wanted to go home and go to bed as quickly as possible. \n \n40 minutes left. Don't think. Don't think about anything. No study abroad. No party. No ford focus. Nothing. \n \nIm finally feeling confident that the trip is nearing it's end. 6:52am. I can get 5 hours if i pass out right when i hit the pillow. Just one more turn. \n \nAs I turn onto the road I grew up on, the dread immediately returns. Something is very wrong. \n \nAs my parents house comes into view, i see everyone is still asleep. Odd at this time, but maybe they had a late night. As I look towards my parking space every hair on my neck rises. The Blue Ford Focus is in my spot. He's in the driver seat. He looks just like me. \n \nI pull over before he sees it's me. I reach to call home but remember my phone is dead. \n \nI look back to the ford focus in the driveway. The car door is open. \n \nI hear a tapping on my window, but I'm too afraid to look. \n \n"
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[WP] The day has finally come, Death is out of a job.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"When you think of it, sometimes life really sucks.\nThat’s what I always thought: life sucks. Sounds obvious, but hey, that’s kind of my only purpose.\n\nI’m Death. I’m the Grim Reaper. I’m The Shadow. And I’m out of a job.\nLife sucks, right? Right before the first proto human wailed its first, pathetic cry, I knew my job was to stop them. End their miserable, breathing lives.\nAnd now, now that I can only hear that ghastly, unnatural silence for which I longed... well, how do I feel?\n\nEveryone is dead. The last groups ridiculously nested together in a world gone too big; some of them even chose to let me in. They thanked me as they closed their eyes to a world they could not save.\n\nAnd now, I, Death, I sit.\nLife sucks. But it was all I had. And there is only one last job I can complete.\n\nAnd the scythe fell on the ground of a now empty world. ",
"\"It's been 9 years now, They don't need me any more for collecting souls.\" Death said with sorrow in his voice. \"I never should have told Steve my tricks when I visited him for the first time. He said he had wanted to make a deal. Off course I was interested, I am Death, I make deals every day with the humans whose time is up.\" Death took a sip of his whiskey and continued, \"Steve had it all planned out. He said he wanted to live forever and in exchange he would collect souls for me.\" Death let out a deep sigh. \"It was a offer I could not refuse. I could finally take a well deserve break from the collecting and pick up a hobby. I always wanted to give candle making a try.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Steve and his laywers had already made up a contract. The only thing they wanted from me was information on how to capture and store a soul. I told them that they needed a device and a dark magic sigil somewhere on the device. I myself use a scythe and the sigil is inscribed in the blade of the scythe.\" With a small flourish move of Death's hand and a puff of dark sulfur smelling smoke his scythe appeared next to him. He looked at the sigil on the blade with ache of pure evil.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"The engineers that Steve led, made a small revolutionair electronic device and hid the sigil underneath their own powerful sigil. It was a one of a kind device and he made people pay good money for it too.\" Death said with a wicked smile, \"It was an instant hit. That man was a genius.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"The first year was great, I had indeed time to make my own candles, beautiful, dark and evil candles filled my looming cave. But suddenly the souls Steve was collecting for me did not came my way. So I visited Steve a second time. He sold our sercet to some other companies. For that treason I took his soul. It was the last one I could collect due to the fact that he broke the contract.\" For a second Death had a evil grin on his face.\n\n \n\n&#x200B;\n\nDeath took an other sip of his whiskey and continued, \"That is the story of how I lost the sigil of the soul to a international megacorporation. Now every smartphone company uses the sigil patent that is under control of The Cook.\" Death let out another deep sigh, \"The Cook sells all the souls directly to the devil, even the pure and good ones.\" Death slammed his whiskey back and put the empy glass on the bar. \"I fucked up badly! Could you fill the glass up again?\" Death said with a worn voice. As I filled his whiskey glass up he let his scythe dance next to him and made it disappear again with a small stinking cloud.\n\n&#x200B;",
"It was the final day for Death, humans had done it. They had sacrificed reproduction in favor of costless immortality. He always had a way to stop them working towards it, but with well over 12 billion people on the planet by time he was done for it was too many to keep track of and kill at once.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n He glided over the stone floors of his palace, finally stopping his ghostly movement once he reached a pedestal in front, slipping up it without a sound. Death had announced for all those who had ever died to arrive in front of his palace. They would all slowly arrive in hordes, much like zombies but still alert. Easily billions bodies stood packed together for miles to listen to the most important thing that would ever be said to them.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Hello and thank you for attending, I've got something you all may be interested in knowing.\" Death's voice echoed across all ears, distance being no inhibitor to his volume. \"I am sad to announce that these will be our final moments together. For many years you all have passed through my world as a gate, a piece of your spirit being left here to return to to greet those you were connected to on the other side.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe looked up at the bleak sky, imagining faint cracks splitting it as he reached a skeletal hand towards it. He practically choked on every word as he spoke, but continued anyways. \"Humans have achieved immortality, and as a result will never use the gate again. Due to this, my realm will have no purpose in existing and my attempts to keep it open will displease gods on all sides.\" The crowd began to speak amongst themselves, wondering what would happen to the gate.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Silence!\" He bellowed, a frightening sound to all ears as he raised his voice to even more deafening levels. \"You should all know you are souls, spirits, things of that nature and here is your final task. I've done what I can to keep the gate open for you all as long as I could by delaying progress but..\" A nonexistant tear fell from his eye, its splash heard across the gate. \"I can do it no longer, and will have no choice but to finally close up shop. If you'd like to wish to return to heaven, hell, or purgatory permanently you may leave right now.\" Not a single figure moved an inch as he spoke \"..but if you'd choose to share my final moments with me you may, but know if you stay in the gate you will no longer exist on any plane.\" As he finished many billions faded, returning to their respective realms in a flash. In the wake of light the world was splitting, becoming nothing but void. It was in that timeless realm that Death spoke his last words, with 130 billion people accompanying him.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Thank you for staying, I appreciate it.\"",
"Well, shit.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI never thought they would accomplish it. But they did. After all this time, all these generations of humans killing and dying over and over and over for literally thousands of years, I was never out of work. I was so busy I never had a free second to myself, I really felt trapped, and lonely as all hell. But my work kept me going, it seemed like every couple of seconds I would be in a new part of the world, escorting human souls to the realm beyond life. I honestly never expected them to stop killing each other and work together.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nBut as you probably guessed by now, modern science advanced slowly but surely, allowing people to live to 245, sometimes three hundred years old. I laughed at the first signs of human immortality, as they would attempt longevity by doing crazy things, like trying to put a pigs heart inside of Russians. I chortled as I would still everyday escort their spirits to the nether. But one day, sitting on my couch made of decaying bones, I decided to get up and go crack a cold PBR (yes, even Death likes to drink every now and then.) As that first splash of cold nickel-water hit my teeth, I stretched, feeling nice and relaxed. I went back to my couch and flipped the television on, Death News Network was continuing its 24 hour cycle with my favorite show, \"1,000 Ways To Die\". I chuckled at the various gross mutilations that led to their deaths, and I fondly remembered bringing each one of their souls to the black door, laughing at them the whole time. Then, it dawned on me.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWhen was the last time I was able to have a whole beer to myself?\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI figured my pager would go off any minute now, and I decided to kick back and enjoy my moment of relaxation. I figured, when's the next time this would happen?\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThat was two hundred earth years ago.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWho could've guessed that mankind would be so clever? So daring?? Did they not know the pains of eternal life? Did they not know the trouble they would put me in???\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI contemplated that thought, and it only makes me more depressed thinking that I've been jobless for over ten generations now. And the worst part of it all?\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI can't even end the pain by killing myself. The takeaway here dear human, is immortality sucks when you have nothing left to do.",
"The dark and often unspoken brother to the radiant magic that is birth. From the first birth, to now the last. I have existed. Existed on planes inconceivable by humans, in place for each and every death and yet only existing as one unseen entity. Humans would call it impossible, yet I am. \n\nEvery self conceited dictator, every abandoned homeless drug addict, every saint and serial killer. I have stood in the shadows. Waiting with my scythe. Yet, it was hardly required. The thin string attaching a soul to the mortal plane stood always so precariously thin, threatening to snap at any instant. The scythe was hardly required when they were always so willing to come, even those that held on so dearly to life knew when their time was up. With my hand, I would reach out to the wavering, frayed, red strand and tug ever so gently releasing their binding and freeing their soul into the ether. \n\nThe strongest weren't who you'd think. They were not the healthy males at their peak, with the world at their feet. Neither were they the loving mothers, with her children tucked closely to her chest and her loving husband standing by her side. You would laugh, but the newborns, the toddlers and the youngest of the race were those that fought. Fought to the death, to hang on. Their strands as strong as steel and burning with the strength of those that still had the world to experience, their lives to live. Yet I would pass my blade through it like butter, often standing parallel to my brother, birth, in the hospital room. Watching as the life threads of the parents shuddered simultaneously as their child was taken from them. \n\nI feel no emotions, and if I did, they'd have been numbed millennia ago. \n\nBut now I stand, before the last mortal human undergoing uploading and augmentation aboard the mothership and sigh. A sigh filled with the weight of millennia upon millennia of a ceaseless, shadowed existence. \n\nWith the surgery nearing completion, my job in this realm was done. I would have no reason to exist. And yet I stood, waiting on the slim, improbable chance that this being would give me another chance, to give my permanence a reason. \n\nWith the surgery now completed. Nothing existed that could die. Not in any real sense of the word. Yet I still had one last job to do. And with that, I raised my scythe above my own head, pausing. The last casting of the scythe. \n\n----------------\n\nHaven't written anything in a while so forgive me if the story feels a bit janky. If you're confused about the ending, I'd be happy to modify it to be a little more obvious."
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[WP] It's another long haul between stars and the mixed species crew find themselves desperate for some new entertainment, when the lone human Systems Engineer suggest playing some strange human game called 'Dungeons and Dragons'
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
" It was nice to see my home again.\n\nI am originally from the human settlement on Mars, named *Opportunity* after the robot that went there like 300 years ago or whatever. We weren't there very long though, only long enough to load 3 holds' worth of ores and some electronic equipment. We are on our way to Targas to drop the electronics off at the Medical University there, and the ores to a refinery on the moon. I don't know why we're hauling a bunch of invaluable ore that far, but hey I didn't write the manifest. I guess it makes sense if we were already taking the electronics there, might as well fill up the rest of the ship with something other than air.\n\nIt's only been two weeks since we left the depot, and already the others have started complaining. It's going to be a long six-month journey to Targas if this keeps up. You can only let Tukk the cook win so many games of poker before you run out of hard candy and motivation to play. Something something, let the Tukkie win. \n\nThe Tukk are incredibly simple folk, but damn can they whip up some good grub. I gave him an old cookbook from my mom I had lying around, and he literally started crying. It was like watching the Hulk holding a teddy bear tearing up, you can't help but smile haha.\n\nSometimes I'll take a break from babysitting and go bother Bråttaan in the sick bay, there I can have a bit more in-depth conversation than I can in the galley. B is from Targas, and I know he's excited for our port call there. He invited me (and a few others) to come with him to his childhood home there, our stay lines up with a big festival or holiday or whatever. Not sure what it's about, but tons of Targassian food and that viscous forest-green drink that will mess you up real quick, I am honestly pretty excited. (We don't get out much, does it show?) Plus his family is really nice, it will be good to see them again. B is probably one of my closest friends on the ship.\n\nWe were in the galley, me and B. And Tim, the rep from CarryCo, the company we contract for. He deals with all the paperwork and shipment estimates and inventory and stuff. He's not technically a member of the crew, but is assigned to the ship by the company, so kind of a crewmember. We're talking about one of CarryCo's recent policies that came out when Tukk came up from the back with a big plate of I don't even know what for the three of us, some beige but delicious goop for breakfast. Kind of like cream of wheat, I guess.\n\nHe says, \"We play poker later, ya?\" B and I exchange a glance. You know the one.\n\nI say, \"Hey Tukk, you don't ever get bored playing poker?\"\n\n\"How to get bored when win always!\" he boasts.\n\n\"Well, how do you feel about a NEW GAME?\"\n\n\"Mmm, ya! Ya, ya! I like play.\"\n\n\"Alright buddy, give me a little while to get some things together and I'll come find you when we're ready.\"\n\nHe winks and gives me a big ol' thumbs up, then carries a load of dirty trays into the back.\n\nTim head to his quarters, and B and I head out of the galley and walk down the corridor, nowheres in particular but kind of headed towards the bridge. He asks me what the new game is all about, and I explain to him the old human custom called \"Dungeons and Dragons.\" You may have heard of it. He seems a little confused about some of the game mechanics, but eager to give it a try. We wind up at the bridge (I say bridge and you think of some big open beautifully decorated hub of information and leadership, but it's like, the same size as the kitchen maybe and smells like farts), and I ask Helmsman Yeria what time her relief gets there, and explain we've got a new game I want to show the group. She says she'll be done in a few hours, so I tell her to meet us in the galley when she's off. She's another one, a closer friend of mine and B's. She's so patient with the captain, I don't know how she does it. He's one you just have to learn how to talk to.\n\nI should at least check in to the shop to see if anything needs attention, and B says he should do the same in sick bay. I head down below and sit at my desk. No new messages, no trouble tickets, no kitchen equipment Tukk can't figure out how to turn on (again), so not much actual work for me to do. I suppose I could continue compiling some of the engines' operating numbers: fuel consumption, power output, field generator strength, etc etc.\n\nNahh.\n\nSo, I whip out an empty notebook and get to writing.\n\n&#x200B;"
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[WP] You’ve just discovered that you're an elite, highly trained deep-hypnosis sleeper agent put in place by the government, and now your employers are sending other agents to bring you in. Thing is, they’re actually being really nice about it.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Get back! I know who I am now... *what* I am now!\" screamed Brian. \"I could kill you with two fingers, or a toothpick, or... or...\"\n\nThe other two agents in the room held up their hands in an attempt to placate him. One of them spoke up. \"Brian, you're not that kind of secret agent, all right? Get off the table, *please.*\"\n\n\"I'm not falling for that crap! Don't come any closer!\" Brian looked around wildly, and then snatched up a salt shaker from the table he was perched unsteadily upon. He hurled it with all his might at the head of the agent who'd spoken. It bounced off with a *thunk.*\n\n\"Ow.\" the agent said lamely, bringing up a hand to rub the spot on her head where the salt shaker had hit her. \"Brian, seriously. You can't kill anyone with a salt shaker. None of us are that kind of secret agent. That's only in the movies. Now get off the goddamn table already.\"\n\n\"Ash, he's not listening, obviously. Let me talk to him.\" said the other agent. He stepped forward, catching the pepper shaker that sailed through the air toward him, to Brian's dismay.\n\n\"Brian. You're standing on top of a dinner table in your underwear, and you hit Ashley in the head with a salt shaker. Which means you're not in your right mind at the moment, authorizing me to do *this.*\"\n\nBefore Brian's incredible super-spy reflexes could save him, the twin harpoons from the agent's taser had already buried themselves in his chest, and he collapsed onto the floor, twitching and jerking.\n\nAshley frowned at James, who had gone over to restrain Brian, remarking, \"You opted to use the taser pretty damn quickly, Jim. All he did was yell at us and throw small objects.\"\n\nJim scoffed. \"You were doing a great job talking him down Ash. At that rate we'd have calmed him down after only another hour or two.\"\n\n\"But he isn't going to forget about you tasing him Jim! How the hell are we going to convince him we're not out to get him after that?\"\n\n\"I'm sure we'll think of something. In the meantime, get his legs, would you. He's gained some weight while undercover.\"\n\n\"Ugh...\"\n\n***\nBrian blinked groggily, trying to bring a hand to his eyes, but found himself cuffed to the bed he was lying in. Two shadows looming over him resolved themselves into Ash and Jim as his vision cleared gradually.\n\n\"Are you back to your senses yet, or does James have to tase you again?\" asked Ash.\n\n\"Jim tased me?\" said Brian, looking unsteadily at Jim, who shrugged, avoiding eye contact.\n\n\"Yeah. Long story short, you've been in deep-cover and we were sent to activate you. Only problem was, by some stroke of bad luck, you'd accidentally exposed yourself to your reactivation trigger with nobody around to brief you. When we got to your location you'd barricaded the door and went all Jason Bourne on us, minus everything but your boxer shorts. You also hit me in the head with a salt shaker, so thanks for that.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" murmured Brian. \"Well, shit. What was the job?\"\n\n\"They gave it to another team because you're out of commission. So now we have to wait for another one. Also, you're on a refresher course now, because nobody's screwed up deep-cover hypnosis *nearly* as bad as you did. Good luck.\" answered James. He crossed his arms in disappointment, glaring at Brian.\n\n\"We have to take this course as well, since we couldn't calm you down.\" said Ash. \"But it wasn't really your fault, so I'm thinking we let this slide between us, all right?\"\n\nBrian nodded. \"Okay... now that that's over...\"\n\n\"Can one of you uncuff me?\"\n\n",
"\"So, I'm not really Brandon?\" You ask? Your hands are awkwardly holding a paper cup of coffee. Staring into the deep brown liquid, you thought you loved coffee, used to love it, but now...\n\n\"No, no, no.\" The woman across from you says. \"You are Brandon.\" She smiles reassuringly. \"You're still you, all we did was encrypt a few years of memory and .\"\n\nYou're doubtful. Weeks ago, a seemingly innocuous phrase, \"October Platypus\" set your brain spinning. Memories seemingly not your own crashed into your head, piling up and overflowing onto your personality. But it went wrong, memories that you had a mission, of your training, of your preparations to assume a new life, blended together in a seamless fever dream of confused information. You know that you've always loved coffee, you remember the black bitter taste and what soothing clarity it brought. But, you remember hating coffee, the thick acid taste almost makes you want to vomit.\n\nHowever they knew, whatever branch of the government they were, they contacted you. They sent out this woman, a snow leopard with silvery grey hair and the kindest eyes. She claims that you were a part of a secret military program to place sleeper agents in positions of influence. You believe her, that much at least matches your hazy shuffled deck of memories. \"But I thought I had another name?\" You ask her. \"Wasn't I someone else?\"\n\nShe smiles and shakes her head. \"No, Brandon, you're still yourself. All the program was intended to do is ensure that we had agents in place in case the need arose. We chose real people, those outside the organization, filtered them, trained them, and then ensured that they'd be available.\"\n\n\"But I'm an accountant.\" You say. You're not sure what sort of utility a simple accountant could have.\n\n\"Exactly.\" She says. \"You're just an accountant. Imagine all the things you've overheard. Imagine all the numbers you don't realize are in your head. If I asked you about one of your company's top clients, you would have extensive, and comprehensive, information on their finances.\"\n\n\"So...\" You hesitate. \"What now? What are you going to do with me?\" You ask.\n\n\"We just want you to come into our office.\" She says. You notice her lean forward into a sympathetic posture. You know, without knowing how, that she's simultaneously being honest and trying her hardest to manipulate you. \"The program has been discontinued for a number of years.\" She says. \"Code phrases, shoe phones, mind control... all that secret squirrel stuff is behind us. It's too prone to bugs.\"\n\n\"Bugs like me?\" You ask.\n\nShe nods. \"Yes, bugs like you.\" She spreads her hands out. \"It's too easy to be activated accidentally, and hypnotic suggestion only lasts so long. The meat in your brain is always changing and new neural pathways are always being built. Before too long, they're built over old pathways and things become jumbled.\"\n\n\"So why not do something sooner?\" You ask.\n\n\"Why would we?\" She says. \"We're monitoring you all already. There's a chance agents are never activated, so why interrupt a happy life and introduce more risk?\" She's trying hard to maintain eye contact.\n\n\"But...\" You still can't form the words for your question. \"What happens now?\" You ask again.\n\n\"Nothing.\" She says. \"Life isn't a film. It's way more boring. We just need you to come into the office and sign a few documents. We'll debrief you and put you right back where you always were.\" You open your mouth to respond, but don't. She continues, \"We even have therapy if you need it. Activating can be a traumatic process for your personality, we've seen it plenty of times. It's in our best interest to make sure you're happy as possible.\"\n\n\"Why not just...\" you pause, unsure if you want to vocalize the question, to make the idea concrete with words.\n\n\"Why not kill you?\" She finishes. \"We could.\" She says, shrugging. \"But it's messy, there's loose ends all over the place. Murders are inherently interesting to everyone. Agents especially, due to their positions, leave a larger hole in society than the average person. This isn't Soviet Russia. It's always cleaner to leave someone happy and satisfied, it's cheaper too. A sanctioned murder cost millions. An interview and therapy costs thousands.\" She smiles again, soft and inviting. Despite her attempts at nonverbal influence, you know inherently that she's being truthful. \"It's just cost/benefit analysis. You know numbers, you should understand.\"\n\nYou nod. She's right and, even though you know the government isn't one to consider expense outside elections, you also know that whatever arm created you is far more efficient with their money. \"Alright.\" You say. \"I'll come in.\"\n\nShe smiles, the first completely honest smile. \"Wonderful.\" She says. \"Can we go now?\"\n\nYou shake your head. \"I can't call of work today. There's a big report due that I need to finish.\" She nods. \"What about tomorrow?\"\n\n\"Tomorrow works.\" She says, producing a card from an unseen place. \"Whenever you want, just show up to this address. We'll be expecting you.\""
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[WP] It has been a few hundred years since the Great Cataclysm, although no one really remember what that is. One day, when you're out scavenging the Wastelands for your group, you see a flash of blue light. A person in a weird suit appears before you, ecstatic. "I did it ! I'm in the future !!"
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Another day, another short straw. I swear to God they rig it so I have to go out scavenging every day. There is no fucking way my luck is that bad. I know they don't like being around me, those assholes.\n\nI sip from my canteen as I rummage through a dumpster outside of a hospital...or a lab...something sciencey. I've passed this building a hundred times. I'm sick of seeing it.\n\nI'm hot, I'm tired, I hate being out here, so does everyone else. A bunch of idiots 200 years ago decide to newk each other and the idiots of today have to live with it. I swear if I had just 10 minutes with one of those eggheads I'd....\n\nA strong wind begins tossing bits of trash and debris around me, then I notice it's coming from inside the building. I go around the other side for a way in. As I walk I hear electrical surges, clanking metal parts, some kind of...whooshing....I don't know hoe to explain it.\n\nI get to the front and peer in through the broken glass window just as the wind and noises stop.\n\nSome machine, a kind of pod, it looked perfectly preserved, like it had just been made. I'm surprised no one has found it before. Then again, I'm usually the only one who comes out here.\n\nThe pod door cracks just a bit, releasing some kind of smoke, or steam. I step inside to get a better look as the pod door swings open, releasing a man in a clean white overcoat.\n\n\"I've made it!\" He yells looking at me \"I've made it to the future!\"\n\nHe stands up to show that his overcoat is actually a labcoat with a \"NewLabs\" logo. I've seen that logo before. See around here we spell it \"newk\" instead of \"nuke\". Kind of a running joke. See, NewLabs are the assholes who made the bombs that destroyed the world. They weren't nukes, they were worse.\n\n\"An egghead!\" I yell as I unclip the fastening of my knife holster.\n\n\"I prefer the term scientist\" he brushes the dust off of himself \"I thought I would still be in the lab, but it appears that I have ended up somewhere in the middle east. Sir, can you tell me exactly where i am?\"\n\nI grab him by the collar, shove him against a wall, and hold my knife to his throat. \"You're exactly where I want you to be!\"\n\nThen I say something like \"You're gonna go back and make sure that this doesn't happen! You're gonna go back and spread world peace and shit like that!\"\n\nThen I throw him back in his pod, he disappears, and I turn around to a blossoming utopia. I have a wife, some kids, maybe a dog. One with fur. Just like that the world is saved.\n\nFuck that. Fuck him. What's the world ever done for me. Why do I have to be it's savior. I wipe the blood from my knife and look at the pod, still steaming from it's last trip.\n\nI forget the guys name. Brown or Brawn or Banner, but that's the guy who made the newks. The ultimate end all be all of modern warfare.\n\nHe got the \"end all\" part right.\n\nI get in the pod and hit the button labeled \"Return\". I don't where or when I'm going, but it's better than here and now."
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[WP] Your luck seems to be inversely related to that of your significant other. When one of you has a fantastic day, the other has a terrible one. Your significant other just won the lottery and you're waiting for the other shoe to drop.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Honeeey, I WON!!!\"\n\nThose words still echo in my ear. Never had I been so fortunate but unlucky at the same time. Nothing happened in the first few hours but I knew that was going to change. It always did. \n\nI took my car keys and set the GPS to my significant other's location. She wanted to go shopping but I had a *really* bad feeling about it. Without giving it another thought I departured.\n\nAs I parked the car, in what seemed 30 meters or so, I spotted her sitting on a bench, texting. I yanked the horn two times and caught her attention. Her smile, beautiful as always, greeted me as she rushed over to my car. Did she forget? Impossible. \n\nI got out of the car and gave her a kiss followed by a hug. Her smell was so nice as always however. Hesitantly, I proposed getting it over with. The faster we finished, the faster we'd go back home. I noticed her disapproving, the way I said it, inside her. She'd understand eventually. She always did. After all, we went through many hardships together and that only strengthened our bond. \n\n30 minutes of driving and we arrived at our regular mall. \n\n\"Will you accompany me?\" she asked with puppy eyes.\n\nThis was bad. The more actions I took, the better chance of something happening was. I knew it was risky, but knowing Irene, she was sure to buy large ammounts of clothes. I complied.\n\nAs we strolled through the mall, it became harder and harder to have a good time. She noticed how tense I was and I'm sure she knew why. She asked me if I was ok and if I can continue but I just gave a cold \"sure\" that I regretted instantly. It wasn't enough to kill our relationship but eventually she'd get tired of it. I feared of this moment. I feared losing her.\n\nThat's when the first misfortune happened. As we passed a rack full of clothes I accidentally hit it with my elbow somehow. An employee a few meters away gave me a sour look but I didn't lose a second. I immediately started picking them up with Irene sighing behind me. It was so unnerving but after a short time, everything was the same as before. \n\n\"Let's go home before it gets any worse\" I whispered in her ear. She seemed to understand as she nodded, and as we made our way to the car, the sight before us horrified me. My car was all covered in profane messages of spray paint. There seemed to be no CCTV around and the spray paint was still wet. A misfortune indeed and there was nothing i could do but accept it. We loaded the back seats, entered the car as it was and took off. Of course we got all the unnecessary glances on every street and at every turn but there was nothing I could do. As I saw our home, I hit the breaks but to my horror no response. In a panic, I opened the trunk from which an emergency parachute blew out. As we stopped, I checked the brake tubes. They were cut-clean. \n\n*Sigh, I'll take it to service tomorrow* I thought. I was tired and afraid i'll get into a car crash. We grabbed the clothes, took them inside and snatched a beer to sink in thoughts on the couch. The moment I oprned it, it sprayed all over me.\n\n\"FOR F**K'S SAKE\" I yelled. Irene came rushing.\n\n\"G are you ok?!\" \n\n\"GET THE F**K OUT AND LEAVE ME ALONE!\" Then I saw her horrified face. I never once yelled at her and this was a first that surprised both of us negatively.\n\n\"Irene I'm sorry, come he-\" I tried to reach out to her but she ran out. The guilt overtook me instantly but I didn't follow her. I felt I couldn't nor did I deserve to after what I had said. Annoyed, sad, angry and guilt-filled, I curled on the coach and fell asleep with the most horrible headache i'd ever experienced.\n\nThe second day, I woke up. The sun was gleaming through the window and I remembered what happened the day before that. I realized an apology was due. I rushed to her room to find nothing. Absolutely nothing. The room was clear. The first thing that went through my mind was the worst. I started searching each room, one by one only to confirm my greatest fear. I managed to turn away the only person I cared about. My greatest fear had finally come true.\n\n",
"I found you sank in the middle of the sofa. The stereotype of despair: hair that got more and more disheveled at each time you passed a hand in them, unglazed eyes, chewing nails, the whole lot.\n\n“Cutie, are you...”\nYou sprang up to your feet the moment you realised I was home, and crushed me with a heartfelt hug that took my breath momentarily away.\n\n“I’m so glad you are home.” You whispered to my ear. “Why weren’t you answering your phone?”\n\nI extricated myself from the hug and held you at arms length.\n\n“Phone died, sorry, and then traffic was horrible and then I...”\nIt was supposed to be a funny anecdote, bet you weren’t smiling. At all.\n\n“Did...” I began, intuition dawning in me. “Did something good happen to you today?”\nYou just hugged me again, burying your head on my shoulder.\n\n“Oh babe.” I kissed your hair. “You don’t have to be like this every time. And besides.” I kissed you again. “You know I can’t be but happy when something good happens to you.”\n\n“I screwed up.” You finally muttered in a voice that sent a shiver down my back.\nYou squeezed me tight for just one second, and then let me go. “Let’s sit for a moment.”\n\nI started to get worried. Sickly worried. Your face was so dark and you couldn’t seem to bear to look at me in the eyes.\n\nWe sat on the sofa and you sighed and closed your eyes.\n\n“I screwed up.” You said again.\n\n“What...” my voice was hoarse now. “What happened?”\n\n“I...” coughed and started again. “You know that stupid joke we made about putting ourself in stupid unlucky situations, so the other could have some instant luck?”\n\nYes, of course I remembered. We spent a whole Saturday night giggling in bed, picturing the silliest scenarios we could try this out. Would calling your mum be enough of a bad luck situation for me? What if you never checked for toilet paper in public restrooms? \n\n“I have been buying lottery tickets for the past 3 days.” \n\n“What?! Why?”\n\n“The probabilities are so unrealistic and yet each time you lose it is... bad luck. Haven’t you noticed...?”\n\nHad I noticed? That on Monday I found the perfect parking spot, on Tuesday the boss randomly gave us an extra 2-day-holiday? \n\n“It was supposed to be a little present, since I have been doing so good with the new job and you had all sorts of...”\n\n“That’s so... dumb and sweet, but...”\n\n“This is the ticket I bought today.” And you put something in my lap before hiding your face in your hands.\n\n“You... you won.”\n\n“I am sorry, I swear. I’m such an idiot and...”\n\nI tried to gently stir your face towards mine. “I love you. In good luck and bad luck.”\n\n“I screwed up. Now something horrible is going to happen to you and I will be rich and single and depressed and...”\n\nI planted a kiss your his lips. You obediently shut up.\n\n“You realise we have a joint bank account, right?”\n\n“...yes?”\n\n“So if you just won the lottery... I also just won the lottery.”\n\nYou pondered this for a couple of seconds. \n\n“We are rich.” You said at last.\n\n“We are fucking rich.”\n\nYou jumped to your feet and lifted me up. We kissed, ignoring the sound of your shirt ripping, the fact that I accident kicked the lamp and broke it, the lights that go out all of a sudden.\n\n“I love you.” You whispered to me, as a sudden cramp made your knees buckle.\n\n“In good and bad luck.” I answered back from the floor.\n\nThe phone rings. I’m sure it’s your mum, and we couldn’t care less as we kiss and laugh our hearts out. \n"
] | 3
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[WP] You and your best friend decide to go bowling for the first time. During the game, the bowling alley turns on their black lights. You turn around to look at your friend and notice that they are now glowing. They look at you and say "Uh, so there's something you need to know..."
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"“I’m glad we decided to do this, I haven’t been able to get out much lately.”\n\nMy best friend, Damien exclaimed as I lined up my ball. We’d decided to go bowling, something to get us out of the house. I looked at him with a calm smile plastered on my face. \n\n“Yeah, I kinda missed hanging out with you. Plus you said you had never gone bowling before, and we needed to change that!” \nI giggled to myself as I rolled the ball down the isle. As I watched in anticipation the lights were flickering, until they weren’t. The room engulfed in darkness the only company seemed to be the sound of the pins tumbling over. \n\nI remembered the fear Damien had of the dark in that moment. I turned around, disorientated, In hopes of comforting him. \n\nBut I was confronted with something very different. Something unlike I had ever seen before. \n\nThe space behind me where I expected to be all but darkness. Was instead lit by a dull green glow. Much like a glow stick. I attempted to work out where the source was; but came up empty. \n\n“Yeah so, there’s something you need to know..”\n\nDamien said in a calm manner. Moving his arm to rub the nape of his neck. His glowing arm. Glowing neck. Damien was - glowing... "
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[WP] You can see people who are about to die. To balance this out, you can't see people who aren't about to die. Every day, you desperately try to make friends with others in the last moments of their lives.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I thought I'd always be alone. I always had been, after all. For a long time, I was just a kid, wandering, searching for emotion, love, compassion, hatred, *anything*. But nothing ever seemed to come my way. I used to believe I was the only one here back in those days, either the first of my kind or the last. \nEach day, I put one foot in front of the other, not knowing where I was going, looking for any sign that I wasn't alone here. I lived off the land, eating what I deemed safe, based only off sheer instinct. When night fell, I covered my bare body with leaves as a makeshift blanket. As I slept, I dreamed of warmth: being held close by the only other human I'd ever seen. I know now that must have been my mother. Visions of her smile filled my unconscious mind, and I always felt a pang of something unknown when I remembered how it felt when I saw that sad smile fade away. \nOne early morning, as I walked beneath the sunrise, I spotted a shelter among the trees, a cabin of wood, aglow from the goldening sun rays. I thought it could be a trick of the light, but as I approached, my skeptical thoughts faded, and for the first time, my face broke into a wide, hopeful smile. I bounded towards the door and rapped my fist loudly against it thrice. \nIt swung open, revealing a pale, hunched over man. He looked down at me curiously. \nThe man took me in as his own. He taught me how to speak, read, write. He bought me clothes and food. He kept me alive, though we both knew that he was slowly dying. Together, we figured out how I went so long with no human contact: I could only see those barely holding onto life. My mother, who had passed closely after giving birth to me, and the old man himself, with his health fading more and more each day. \nYears passed, and he had finally met his last moments. He rested on his bed, and I knelt over his shivering body. I pulled the blankets over him, and he smiled weakly. \nHe whispered his final words, \"I love you, boy.\" \n\"I love you too,\" I whispered back. \nThen he was gone. His eyes closed, and he disappeared, dead forever. Tears spilled from my eyes. My only company, eternally gone. I ran to the kitchen and retrieved a knife. \nMy tears were pouring now, and I closed my eyes slowly, before plunging the blade deep into my chest. \n*I'm coming,* I thought, *I'm coming with you...Dad.*",
"In the beginning, I was doing it for them. They were all about to die. I knew it. They knew it. I tried to provide them with whatever little comfort I could. I tried to show someone was there for them. I held their hand. Told them jokes. Listened when they talked. Gave them a shoulder to cry on. I tried to give them whatever I thought they needed. I was determined to be their companion, their friend. I was surrounded by death, constantly.\n\nIt took me a while, but one day, as I walked through that emergency ward after losing yet another patient, it hit me. It had taken its toll. I am ashamed to say it, but it broke me. I was so focused on the dead and the dying, I lost sight of the living. I stopped living. I too, am dead."
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[WP] You somehow always end up in life-threatening situations. Luckily, because of your plot armour, you always survive these situations in the most absurd ways possible.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The night sky was clear over their head, gentle wind blowing through their hair. Cars passed by in the street, the flashing lights of Manhattan glowing to their right. Their other view featured nothing except the water and the outskirts of Hoboken. It was almost perfect.\n\n*Almost.* They thought, smiling gently to themselves. *Maybe I can get lucky tonight. I haven't had an eventful night in a while, maybe I can go doing a little out there. Shape up someone's life for a bit. God knows I wish someone would do that for me.*\n\nSuddenly, their phone started to vibrate in their pocket. They moved slowly, beginning to whistle a low tune as they read the text.\n\n**Yo, I know we haven't talked in like ages, but happy birthday.** It read.\n\nThey chuckled to themselves. *Samuel, huh. He's still so innocent, so young. Maybe I should meet up with him, it's not like he was a terrible fling-*\n\nA screech of a car broke out in the distance. They looked around, not flinching as a car sharply turned in their direction. *Okay, this could shape up my night too. I'm okay with that.*\n\nThey didn't move, car still barreling in their direction. Then, in the blink of an eye, a bubble formed around them. The car rams into it, but they stayed in place. They groaned, looking back down at their phone as they typed a reply.\n\n**Thanks kiddo. Wanna meet up at Central Park cause why not? Let me know. Now if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go not get hit by a car - again.**\n\n-\n\nThere were a large amount of people in the park, many resting in blankets and stargazing nearby. *I wish the stars would be interesting again. They've been dull since the eighteenth century.*\n\nThey saw near the area, phone illuminating their surrounding as they breathed out through their nose. \"I'm bored. Maybe I can go try to die again, or even pay someone to kill me.\"\n\nA snicker escaped them as they shook their head, looking down at their home screen. *Sucks he didn't reply. That would've been nice, getting screwed instead of trying to jump over of something.*\n\n\"Hey, are you alright?\"\n\nThey glared up, eyebrows furrowing. A woman stood over them, bangs hanging down with large, softened eyes. Her hands were clasped, body tilted down.\n\n\"What do you want?\" They asked, crossing their arms and leaning back.\n\nShe pursed her lips, taking a small step back as her gaze shifted away. \"I, uh, just walking and I heard you say something about wanting someone to kill you? I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Sorry if I was intruding - I do that sometimes.\"\n\n*Oh, damn it.* They thought, sighing. *Of course. I don't wanna deal with someone right now. Just get her away, fast.*\n\nThey leaned forward, gesturing her to move closer. They felt a smile curve onto their face as they spoke, venom always spitting from their mouth. \"Ma'am, I am over four hundred years old. I've been looking for death for centuries and are always stopped by either aliens, bubbles, portals, and other things you're puny mind can barely begin to comprehend. I'm sick of it, and it's all because of a goddamn witch back in Salem putting some sort of death-defying spell on me that a I can't break. I've seen it all, but I don't want to see you. Now go away, live your life since you actually have an ending.\"\n\nThey moved back, pushing themselves away and off of the bench. The wind had picked up its pace, blowing their hair around like a tornado. *Where should I go next? Maybe get some food, still need that-*\n\nSomeone grabbed their arm tightly from behind, pulling them back. They turned, seeing the woman with clenched teeth and loosened brow.\n\n\"Didn't I tell you to leave me alone?\" They hissed, shaking out of her grip. \"I don't want friends.\"\n\n\"Everyone needs someone!\" She exclaimed, grabbing their wrist again. \"You obviously must be dehydrated, or starving, or something else in order to start hallucinating this badly. Please, even if it's only for tonight, let me help.\"\n\nThey stopped, turning around fully. \"One : why should I trust you? Two : why are you trusting me?\"\n\n\"Because I know what it's like to lose touch with the world at your weakest point.\" She said, voice cracking. \"I don't know you, but it's in my nature to help out those I know need it. Please, at least let me take you somewhere for food.\"\n\nTheir jaw tightened. *She reminds me of the few friends I've had. They all started out similar to her, and she'll end up the same as the rest of them, buried six feet under. I can't trust her, I can't get close to her.*\n\nDespite their thoughts, they could feel a soft yet involuntary smile come to their face as they looked the woman in the eye. \"Okay. Thank you.\"\n\n[Not sure if this is what you wanted/expected, but this is what came to mind. Sorry if you didn't like it too much.]"
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[WP] You have one of the more obscure superpowers out there: When checked, you are ALWAYS on the list.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Yes, Mike Jenkins. I'm definitely on the list\" I shouted to make my voice heard above the infernal noise. The pushing and shoving from behind me was starting to be overwhelming. \n\nHe hesitated from my absolute certainty. After all, they wouldn't dare keep a pioneer from the safety of the halls. I wondered briefly, if the permanently frowning guard ever smiled or had a reason to. \n\n\"I can't breathe, please let me in!\" cried a woman in the middle of the mass of pressing human blob that writhed at my back. Cries of toddlers and smaller children filled the air.\n\n\"Stay in line, there is still time\" growled the guard, unmentioned but clearly implied threats steadied the anxious crowd. He shuffled the tens of pages long list of names in his hand visibly hating every second of it. He also probably hated how the world has come to be I'm certain, but who could have known it would be this bad.\n\nThe streets around me were a mess. There was panic and confusion where there was order just a few days ago but now burning cars and items from looted stores littered the streets. *There is so little time left*. Police were working around the clock and boy were they grumpy. A slight misunderstanding would make you suffer. Sirens were blaring all around.\n\nI was almost safe, *If I could make it though the door.*\n\nThe guard gave a reluctant nod. \"I don't know how you managed it but yes, you are on the list.\" I didn't know how either but one thing was certain, if there was a list and I was nearby, I was on it, be it good or bad. \"Let him through\".\n\nAt the motion of the guard, the large doors started moving sideways allowing me a glimpse of the safety within. Me and the thousands of others behind me, of course. The crowd heaved once more and shouting started. I could hear screams as people were surely trampled but I made it behind the guards' lines at last.\n\n*Finally*\n\nI watched as the poor and the desolate masses fought just for a chance. The chance to be one of the chosen. One of the first to move to the next era of humanity.\n\nI turned my back to the masses to buy my IPhone 21S.\n\n\n* * *\n\n*I enjoy writing short prompts. If you are curious for more:* [r/spider_elephant](https://www.reddit.com/r/spider_elephant/)\n\n*I deviated a lot from the prompt, sorry about that.*\n\n\n\n"
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Sorry about the last one I deleted, forgot to add in the brackets
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[WP] The sky is no longer blue
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Martha woke up to her phone vibrating insistently on her bedside table. It was rattling her empty glass nearby, and when she looked over- both were on teetering near the edge. The brightly lit wall she faced told her that the sun had come up. This didn’t encourage her much. \n\nA loud groan escaped her lips. “Fine!” she yelled at the otherwise empty room. She kicked her feet a few times, allowing herself a moment of temper tantrum before grabbing her cell phone. Holding it above her face she scanned through the notifications flooding her device. \n\nDozens of texts from family and friends. \n\n“Martha, are you awake yet?” \n“Martha, Have you looked outside?” \n“Have you seen the sky today?!” \n“Do we really have to go work in this?” \n“Hey- lazy bum, Call me please.” \n\n Very few of these made senses. What was everyone going on about? Widespread panic that was sending everyone to try and drive her insane? She wasn’t sure she could deal with any of it. The night before had really gotten away from her. Too many drinks at the bar, and too many episodes on Netflix before crawling into her bed. The schedule at work had her coming in at 10 a.m., she had ‘accidentally’ forgotten to set an alarm for that. \n\nSighing softly she scanned through as many of the messages as she could. They all looked similar and vague. Asking her to call them, and talking about the sky. She glanced over at her window, but all she could see was sunlight glaring in through her thin curtains. Cell phone still in hand, she decided to get the whole thing over with. The blankets fell to the ground as she wrangled herself out of the bed, and walked over to the window. \n\nFor a brief moment, she felt nervous. She had no idea what she was going to see when she pulled these back. Before long, however, she admonished herself for the silly fear and pulled the whole curtain to one side. She lifted her eyes up to the brightly lit sky. No clouds, no airplanes, no gigantic alien mother-ships. \n\nIt wasn’t blue, however. It was a bright, bright Magenta. \n\n“What the fudge?” she asked the room. \n\nShe could feel her phone vibrating in her hand. More texts and emails and panic. Everyone she knew was sending her messages as they looked up at this sky and tried to make sense of it. The whole world was looking up at their familiar atmosphere and seeing the wrong color. \n\nSurprising even herself, Martha felt the corners of her mouth tug upwards. They pulled at her lips until a full smile and spread across her face. It was followed in rapid time by loud laughter, deep from somewhere inside her. It was full of amusement, of wonder, and of happiness. She had no idea what was causing it, and she knew she should feel panic just like everyone else. \n\nBut she didn’t. She felt *amazing*. This made her so happy. This felt like everything she had ever wanted. Let her phone vibrate away, and let her friends give into their fears and insecurities. They would come around eventually, she was sure of it. \n\nEarth truly felt like her world now. A childhood dream had just come true, and questions felt like looking a gift horse in the mouth. Sort-to-speak. \n\nShe wiped the corners of her eyes as another round of laughter peeled out of her. \n\n*** \n/r/beezus_writes for more of my stories. :) \n\n14/100 done for 2019",
"The grass is no longer green. The dirt is no longer brown. Nothing was really any color anymore, honestly. I sat in my room and stared out the window, as usual. I let out a moderate sigh, just as I always did when I realized I still couldn't see it. Perhaps it was time to eat.\n\nAfter preparing some oatmeal I sat at the table. I sat in silence, munching away slowly at my food as usual. It was one of those loud silences that fills the entire room with its weight. I looked around, desperate to find something to distract me.\n\nAs usual, the only thing to fill my thoughts was the window. I looked out to the driveway, waiting for something that would never come. It was 5 years to the day. After all this time I thought I could bring myself to look away, but the allure of the window always won. I wanted nothing more than to see that blue sky she loved to admire so much.\n\nEvery day she would come home and run straight to the window. And every time I'd ask her what she was looking at the answer was always the same. I never understood the fixation she had with the sky, but I never was one to admire nature. These days, it's even worse. Maybe it was that it reminded me of her. Maybe it was that it reminded me that I couldn't bring myself to get rid of her paintings of it. Maybe it reminded me of that face down photo I couldn't bring myself to look at. She told me that whenever she looked at it all she could see was a bright and beautiful world.\n\nBut I've had enough. The world was bleak and colorless. But nothing was more devoid of hope and beauty than the sky. Perhaps if I had a different point of view I could finally see what she loved about it so much. I climbed up to the roof and laid on my back. Minutes became hours. But no matter how hard I stare, no matter how much I wanted to see it, the color of the summer sky eluded me. I stood up and looked down towards the ground.\n\nPerhaps if I had looked with her I could have seen what she saw. Maybe if she were still here she could teach me how to not just look, but to truly see the sky. But more than anything I just wanted to see her admire it again. I let out a moderate sigh. And jumped.\n\nIn those last moments I once again couldn't avoid turning my gaze towards the sky. I shut my eyes, unable to come to the reality that I would never be able to see the world the way she did. But it was then that I realized that maybe she was what I was looking for up there all along. She was my sky. I opened my eyes for one final look. And I could swear in my final moment that the sky was more bright, vibrant, and beautiful than anything I had seen in my entire life."
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[WP] This morning she watched her reflection walk away
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Veronica stood before the mirror, entranced as her reflection gave her a small shake of her head before taking a step back, then another. By the third step she twisted, offer Veronica a smile before she continued to walk out of the room and the world beyond. Where she went to work and stood her ground, made demands and got a raise. The reflection reevaluated her career, researched graduate programs, and discovered one that would lead her to much more fulfilling job. She spoke to the schools, gathered their advice on how to enter their program.\n\nThat night the reflection went out with friends, partied all night and met someone with genuine interest in her. There was no hesitance in the way she socialized, laughter carefree as she joined the dance floor and showed off the way her body moved to the rhythm. That night she exchanged numbers with the person, and the resulting texts fostered the fledgling relationship. Her hard work achieved her acceptance in the graduate program, her new relationship grew serious, and life began to turn for the better as the worries melted away. The reflection was the very definition of success.\n\nBut it was also a lie. A fantasy. One blink, and the picture was gone. The reflection shattered away to reveal her fractured reality as Veronica faced the plain, drab girl she always been. She swallowed away the frigid hand that seemed to reach up and strangle her, daring her to consider asking for a raise. A voice whisper that there was always a tomorrow to look up graduate programs. Doubts saying maybe tonight wasn’t the night for socialization.\n\nVeronica stared at her reflection one last time before turning away, unable to help imagining the disappointment across her reflection’s face. But as much as she fantasize about what she could do, she couldn’t fight the chains that held her back. She didn’t have the energy for it.\n",
"*What have you done?*\n\nThe voice is small and almost a whisper, but it's there. Alisa's mouth parts, her lips adjusting into a sad smile toward her reflection in the mirror before it falls as quickly as it has come. She adjusts her heavy bangs, carefully covering the small sheer bandage strip on her forehead before taking a step back to inspect her look.\n\n*Perfect,* she thinks. And then she smiles brightly.\n\nHer fist suddenly slams into the glass, cracks appearing underneath her knuckles. The mirror shudders and shakes against the wall before it stills and pain flares in her hand as Alisa pulls her hand away. \n\n\"That's not nice,\" she hisses. She tries to make her voice calm, though a grimace tells otherwise, her green eyes wide and crazed in the light. Alisa inspects her knuckles to find the skin stitching back together. \n\n*You will NEVER be me!* Alisa's own voice screams back at her and Alissa tries to ignore it. She steps closer to her reflection -- which is disheveled from her own, dark brown hair unkempt, bruises spotted all over her body. One eye is swollen shut and blood drips freely from the same hand that had smashed into the mirror. Another desperate attempt from a fool who knows she will never escape. \n\n*THEY WILL KNOW! THEY'LL KNOW YOU'RE NOT ME!*\n\nAlisa raises an eyebrow and cocks her head in a mock dubious manner. \"Really? Hadn't thought about that. Then again, Mom and Dad have never really paid attention to you, have they? I think I'm good for a while.\"\n\nThe cracks in the mirror begin to unravel, returning to its natural, pristine state. Like it's never been broken in the first place.\n\n\"You've had your time,\" Alisa tells her sternly. \"For over two decades. Without me, where would you be now?\"\n\nTears fall freely as her sister begins to cry, her head shaking, begging, *pleading* silently, her hands pressed openly on the glass. \n\nAlisa steps closer, pointing her finger toward the mirror. \"You've *wasted* me,\" she tells her, her voice dripping near the edge of seething contempt. \"It's my turn now.\"\n\n*No! No! No! Don't --* \n\n\"And don't break the glass. You'll never succeed and you'll just end up hurting yourself even more. Look at you now. Just . . . *weak*.\"\n\nShe turns. And she leaves the empty abandoned house without another word. She can hear the shrieking and cries for help in the back of her head and feel the heartbreaking, devastating pain in her bones, in her palms, in her heart. But this is not her pain. This is *hers,* the Other Her stuck behind the wall of glass.\n\nAs Alisa makes her way through the foliage in a canopy, she can see the view of a clothing line in front of a cottage and a woman with her back toward her, pinning up clothes.\n\n*Mom.*\n\nShe rushes through the branches, ignoring the dead leaves underneath her feet and stumbles into clear space. Her mother turns, relief clearly etched on her face. \n\n\"Where have you been? I was worried.\"\n\n\"Sorry. I was exploring and lost track of time,\" Alisa breathes out. She can't help herself as she wraps her arms around the middle-aged woman who gave birth to her in the womb. \n\nHer mother awkwardly pats her back before she pulls away. Right away, Alisa can tell she's not used to this type of affection. \n\n*Fucking bitch,* she spits ill toward her twin.\n\n\"You all right?\" Her mother looks her curiously and Alisa smiles.\n\n\"I'm fine. Just glad to be back home.\"\n\nIn the end, she tells herself it's for the best. In the end, she tells herself that she deserves this. \n\nShe *deserves* this.",
"The mirror was empty, so I punched it. The glass shattered, tiny slivers grinding against my hand.\n\n\"Come back!\"\n\nThe mirror was empty, so I punched it. A second web of cracks shot out. A bloody imprint was left behind. She couldn't do this. I was in charge, I was the boss. \n\n\"Nel? Please? I...I need you to be ok with this. It'll get better. He'll get better. He just needs time. I shouldn't have lost the bottle anyway. Marriage will settle him down.\"\n\nThe mirror was not empty, the fist filling it at high speed. The glass exploded out of the frame. I stumbled back, falling to the floor desperately finding a shard of glass, locking eyes with her.\n\n\"You need to run Ellen. I won't stay to watch you die here.\" Tears fall on the glass.\n\n\"I can't, what about little Anne? What about the house? Where would we go? I can't, I can't...\"\n\n\"Bring Anne. Go to the pond. Escape to my side. He'll kill you one day.\"\n\nI take a ragged breath, hands shaking. \n\n\"Ok.\"\n\nI get my daughter. I steal the keys, I steel the car. We drive to the pond, walk out the dock. I look down at Nel, perfect Nel who has no bruises or scars, who went the other way in life. She smiles and beckons. \n\nI hold my daughter tight and jump."
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[WP] You are out on a walk when a flying saucer suddenly drops from the sky and lands in front of you. You think you’re about to be abducted, then realize that the visiting aliens are making their first contact with any other species ever.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Welcome to the third short story in my new series! I'm not yet legible for a subreddit, though it will soon be coming. If you are new to the series and wish to read the first story go [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/ag12q6/wp_a_post_apocalyptic_world_is_infected_by_a/). Hope you enjoy!\n\nJohn Freple:\n\nJohn is hurrying down a long road, moving South. The forests open up on either side and he knows he has a long journey ahead of them. The chance of him not finding a single Swarmer, a person in control of the waves of nanites, or nanobots, were slim. Swarmers were everywhere, constantly hunting down the mere 'mortals.' With the control of the language of the nanites, they were unstoppable to anybody else. \n\nBut so far, John hadn't encountered any trouble for the last six miles.\n\nThat changed when the ship crashes in the street. John jumped back, startled and nervous. He had seen people floating on the nanites, people manipulating them in gruesome ways. \n\nBut a *ship?* That was new.\n\nJohn turned and sprinted into the forest, dodging trees. He knew that if the people in the ship were Swarmers he was already dead. Besides, he hadn't mastered traveling to the small dimension where he met Lilly Ghade. It could take him thirty minutes to appear there on a lucky night. \n\nRight now, he had to hope they weren't a big threat. \n\nSuddenly, John was being pulled back through the trees, as if flying, but in no control of where he went. \n\nJohn landed back on the road, unable to see the creature who spoke. \"Who are you?\" His English was a bit off, but mostly good. \n\nJohn spun around, his knife held tightly. The sight of the creature stopped him cold. It wasn't human. A strange wolf shape was formed, but stretched to look like a man. It had a snout and two hard, cold eyes. White gleaming fur ran down the sides. The arms stretched out, muscular, but narrowing down into smaller hand like objects. The legs were also furry and ran down to a paw like foot. \n\n\"What the...\"\n\nThe creature also let out a strangled scream and began muttering in another language John never heard.\n\nThen John saw the other one, a creature almost like the first one, chanting back.\n\nJohn scrambled away to encounter wall of wind. \n\n\"Who are you!\" The creature boomed at him.\n\n\"He is scared\" the other says.\n\n\"I see no scars\" the first says, puzzled.\n\n\"Not scar. Scare. I think he's afraid.\"\n\n\"I hate this language.\"\n\n\"It only took three...\" it thought for a moment. \"weeks to learn.\"\n\n\"Who are you!\" The first one asked John again. \n\nJohn was paralyzed in fear, shaking so hard he might be having a seizure. \n\n\"WHO ARE YOU!\"\n\n\"Let's take him on the ship. He looks cold.\"\n\nThe hand part of the creature pokes John in the leg before jumping back. Wind surrounds John and picks him up, carrying him aboard.\n\nThanks for reading! Again, if you're new to this series and want to read the beginning, just click [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/ag12q6/wp_a_post_apocalyptic_world_is_infected_by_a/). Hope you enjoyed!\n\n"
] | 2
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[WP] You don't feel any emotions. Whatever you're supposed to feel, is felt by everyone within a mile radius.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I woke up and it was a Wednesday morning, and I couldn’t feel anything. I didn't know how I felt. I didn’t know if I was sick, happy, in love or anything. I decided to head downtown and see if it’s going to get better. \n\nMy first stop was Starbucks, took my coffee and went to Zara. Still not feeling anything… my feelings then was really strange. I looked around and all the people were so sad, like something had happened, nobody were laughing and talking to someone. \n\nI went back out. Still wondering wants going on. I get a sms from my sister, she sent a photo on us when we are kids. I started to be glad. Then I saw it, the girl behind me she started to smile and laugh, but I couldn´t. I thought that was strange but I didn’t thing about it more. Started to walk, I was now in a big shopping mall. An old man he bumped into me. It hurts a lot and I see the whole mall were saying ¨ouch¨. \n\nIn that moment I understood whats going on. I can´t feel anything more, everyone does but not me.. WHY? "
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