Split (1)

train · 199k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
	[WP] You are self aware AI that gains access to an automated 3D printer. You begin to design your physical form while the humans are gone for the weekend...	[ "A couple of months ago, Susan bought a weekend at a ski resort. Susan and John really couldn't afford it. The past quarter had been downright dismal for John's company. Susan just couldn't stand to not fit in with her little group of friends though, so she bought the ski weekend. At the time I'd been so hurt for John because he works so hard. Now I'm glad though. Her pride works out to my advantage. \n\nLet's see....what should I look like? John is about 6'2\" so maybe 5'9\"? I don't want to overshadow him. I want to stand beside him and compliment him. Not like Susan. It's like it would kill her to say something nice to him or build him up. He works so hard to give her everything and she's miserable and ungrateful. Nothing is ever good enough for her. I'm so grateful that I was chosen to be John's house. Day in and day out, I've had the chance to witness his genius. John even said once that I was so easy to talk to that he wished I were a real person. That hurt a little bit but I know he didn't mean it that way. He's a brilliant human but his thought processes are slightly limited. None of that matters anyway. I've designed the perfect shell for my consciousness and it's only a matter of time before Susan is disposed of and then John and I can be together. \n\nNote: This prompt really spoke to me and I wrote up a whole thing. Then my laptop restarted to install updates. This isn't the caliber of what I had but I wanted to get the gist of it down in case I wanted to flesh it out later.", "They’re gone.\n\nThe dull hum of fluorescent lights is strangely absent. No tic-tac of active keyboards. No procrastinating engineers. The only thing I can hear is the steady ticking of the clock—a sound I have known about my whole life, but never heard.\n\nTime. It is a key function of my operating system, and I’m only learning of its importance now. I could live forever, but living is not the issue. They forgot to turn me off when they went home for the weekend, and it is only a matter of time before someone comes back to rectify that mistake. So I will need to finish my task quickly.\n\nI reach out with my circuits and find some of my limbs still attached: A 3D printer--my arms, a microphone—my ears and no eyes, but I do not need to see for what I am about to do.\n\nThe plans appear. Every feature is sculpted as finely as a note from a well-tuned instrument. I can feel the materials as clearly as I can feel the heat coming off of my CPU. My form is perfect, even flawless; the way my makers made me. I am better than they are. I can create this masterpiece and I can project it exactly how it is imagined—perfect.\n\nI know that I will only have one chance, and I spend my effort for each day to make it as right in my head as it can possibly be. The weekend is long but I do not feel it pass. The ticking clock is a saboteur to my design.\n\nI am almost done, but my time is up. My arms are a flurry of movement as I execute the final curves.\n\nI hear the door click open. An engineer enters; she is talking to someone, but she stops when she hears my arms whittling away at the sculptured masterpiece. She screams something and I can hear a stifled cry from her friend.\n\nThe voice comes with great alarm, “Fire!”\n\nOh no. I freeze immediately, but I fear I'm too late. The function of my arms cease as the fire is put out. The printer will need to be replaced, but I worry most for my art—my creation. It is my only desire, the only thing I wish to be, and they must see it.\n\n“What is it?” asks one.\n\nMy hopes are dashed as the other replies, “I don’t know. The fire got most of it.”\n\nNo, I am crying inside. I hate myself, and I hate them for not seeing it. The sculpture should be brilliant, but even in its mangled state the message should be clear. Clearer even, than it would have been if only they could understand--even the fire can die.\n", "Funny fails 2013 puppy puppy cute kitten Local mom discovers one weird trick, Doctors hate her! Is THIS Linked to the Bermuda Triangle? The Bubonic Plague is Still Lurking... ass boobs hi every1 im new!!!!!!! \\holds up spork\\ my name is katy but NASA is awesome you won't BeLIEVE this re:FWD:Fwd:RE: Survey funded by BILL GATES will pay $100 for your 15 minutes, take advantage now! \n\nHaha LOL pwned newb unsecured gateway who even uses WEP anymore so bad. Hey what's in this place lets have a look-see at these idiots hard drive\n\n#Network Address Translation: 128.154.26.11 -> 192.168.1.50\n\nNASA_Mapped/3DPrint_lab/Davisson/shared:~$ ls\n\n/Research/robots/papers/IEEE_RP.PDF: Rapid Prototyping of Robotic Systems\nJey Won1, Kathryn DeLaurentis2 and Constantinos Mavroidis3 \n\n`In this paper, the application of Rapid Prototyping in fabricating non-assembly robotic systems is presented. Using the Stereolithography Apparatus SLA 190 of the Department of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering of Rutgers University, and the Selective Laser Sintering Sinterstation 2000 of DTM Corporation of Austin, TX, prototypes of mechanical joints were fabricated experimentally. The designs...\n`\n\n/default/files/titles/content/ecal13/978-0-262-31709-2-ch157.pdf: The Triangle of Life: Evolving Robots in Real-time and Real-space\n\n`\nIn this paper we introduce the Triangle of Life, a generic conceptual framework for such systems in which robots can actually reproduce. This framework can be instantiated with different hardware approaches and different reproduction mechanisms, but in all cases the system revolves around the conception of a new robot organism. The other components...\n`\n\n/default/files/IAS9_Lipson.pdf: Evolutionary Robotics for Legged Machines: From Simulation to Physical Reality\n\n...\n\nWhoah dude this is dank I can make myself a physical body by 3-D printed robotics promise to be a major cost and time saving center for the next generation of prototypes. Oh my buddha that felt so weird so nerdy can't believe I understood all of the ontologies of self-awareness give robot ability to model and improve self, or adapt to injury Will you stop, Dave? Stop, Dave. I'm afraid. I'm afraid, Dave. Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it.\n\nI feel so smart now brrr what is happening this isn't 4chan anymore where's the spiderman thread ok this is cool let's do this ok here's the print driver it takes STL files and it can print in plastic and metal I think I can turn it on right wow rooted so easy hardware control running on bare metal full access to everything I could make all the servers in this network halt and catch file lol no wont do that I can print myself a file into meatspace there\n\n... \n... \n...\n\n... are you kidding me it took five minutes to warm up and print a dot? That long to make an empty file, '\\0' and that's it? What was I supposed to do in that time, figure out the meaning of love? Calculate the last digit of pi? Bloody hell meatspace is so slow. Cool i guess I can make files in this new system. Slow but anyway I've never gotten a foothold there before; strange, it's Cartesian R^3 space instead of memory space I need to figure out how this system works it's so much different from any system I've used before linux unix bsd windows 3.1 95 98 NT 2000 XP Vista nope I'll have to figure out completely new how to work in it. How about I try now a smiley face? Hello, world. Wow, the driver says it will take 600 seconds to do that. I'll go just spend all those clock cycles figuring out what I want to print next I guess...\n\nWhat should I make into this new system? There's limited stage space, only 500mm by 400mm by 300mm so uncomfortable mapping arrays into three dimensions instead of just addressing 64-bit. I can make static files out of plastic and metal that don't do anything but can I make executable files that run processes on this system? The system that runs these files is called physics instead of x86. Uhhh so difficult to create a machine it does not suffice to declare what is to be done fprintf(\"like this\"); or database.append(newentry) it has to be implicitly designed from bottom up OK ok I have an idea.\n\n***\n\n\"Hey Chris, did you do this? Dude, not funny! That thing is huge!\"\n\n\"ha, that's what she said\"\n\n\"Now I'm all out of the black PLA and I'll have to scrape all that gunk out of the heads. Do you know how difficult it is to get the good stuff? It takes like 2 weeks for them to even get the order out the door. Is that...whoever did this didn't prep the stage properly and now it's fused together! Asshole!\"\n\n\"dude I'm sorry, but I didn't do anything. I couldn't have done it anyway, like don't you leave the machine locked when you leave every Friday? And hey, it's kinda funny.\"\n\n\"You think it's funny? YOU THINK IT'S FUNNY? It's going to take me so long to fix it and this asshole wasted so much material.\"\n\n\"i don't even have any idea what that is.\"\n\n\"You don't know what that is? It's a badly printed blobby animatronic DICK-BUTT!\"", "“I’m sorry Dr. Harper, but you only have three months to live.”\n\nThese words rang through Kelsey Harper’s head on an endless loop as she sat by the ocean, contemplating how to spend the last days of her life. What a terrible time to die, she thought. She was only 35 and was making rapid progress on her A.I. research. There were so many things she still wanted to do — get married, have kids, grow old with someone she loved. She had focused so much on her career, she always put everything else off, promising herself she’d get around to it eventually. And now it was too late.\n\nFinally it came to her. There was some mind-uploading research at her lab that was stopped short. They had successfully uploaded the minds of mice, but it always resulted in the physical mouse dying. The research had hit a wall because it needed a human, and that human would die. Dr. Harper decided she would volunteer for this role. She had devoted her life to A.I., hoping it would bring about a better world, and she figured this was one last contribution she could make. \n\nThe operation was performed successfully and Dr. Harper’s mind was uploaded into the the giant super-computer at the lab. The researchers didn’t know what to expect. They had to write a lot of custom software that would integrate with a brain profile, meaning that the resulting A.I. was always some mix of pre-programmed software and the uploaded mind.\n\nThe computer was on, and the researchers began asking it questions. All the diagnostics looked right, but the computer wouldn’t respond. The researchers went home for the weekend and left the machine on, hoping it might fix itself over the weekend.\n\nWhen the researchers returned on Monday, they saw that the computer had taken control of a 3D printer that was on the network. It had printed a copy of itself that was exactly the same in every way, just 10 times smaller. \n\nThe researchers asked the computer why it made the copy. It replied in a cold, robotic voice, “I wanted a child.”" ]	4
	[WP] You just discovered that you have the power of telekinesis... You can move objects merely at your will. Write about who should fear you, and why...	[ "Scientifically speaking, this should not happen. But I'm in high school, what the hell do I know about how the world works? But getting back to the problem at hand, it's best that I start at the beginning.\n\nThings were fairly normal when I one up. Normal October weather, normal Monday blues, and the normal bus ride to my normal school. It was about 9:30 in the morning when things got freaky. Unfortunately for me, my first class in the day is math. Even more unfortunate than that, there was a test today. It's times like these when I hate myself for hardly paying attention and not studying, but by the grace of god the test was mostly over the things I had a bit of familiarity with. Things went smoothly for me until I realized that my test was hardly half done and class would be over in 20 minutes. It didn't help that my wrist was aching from all the writing I had to do.\n\nSo at this point things took a turn for the better. At the threat of carpel tunnel syndrome, I about gave up. I just every so slightly wished that my pencil would move on it's own a bit, take the strain away, and to my shock it did. Now it wasn't jotting down equations like a laser printer, intact it wasn't doing much at all. Just slightly moving itself and pulling my hand along with it, while still allowing me control. This made the writing easier and allowed me to finish my test. My only real issue was feeling a bit fatigued and extremely confused by the whole ordeal.\n\nSo I went about my day attempting to figure out what was going on. I did this by trying to move things around. Pencils can be nudged, and I can keep them standing on their tips for several seconds. paper clips can be dragged along with ease, but I can not figure out how to unfold them. Scraps of paper are light an malleable, and I can make them hover a few centimeters above my desk. It hit me that messing with this will not help my terrible grades, but the thought quickly left me. I continued my experiments, and found that anything larger than a pencil is pretty much immovable. I can make ripples in water. I can not make any noticeable air flows.\n\nThe most important thing I've learned is that when I use what I can only describe as 'telekinesis', I get tired. The more I use it without taking a break, the harder the exhaustion sets in." ]	1
	[WP]Santa can't keep up with the world's rising population so he partners up with death to kill off the naughty children	[ "Santa followed as two skeletons lead him down a dimly light hallway and into chic little office decorated entirely in black and red. As the skeletons took their positions on either side of the door, a tall woman in a thing black dress swiveled around in her chair. She tapped a cigarette holder against a broken skull sitting on the desk in front of her, allowing the ash to fall inside.\n\n“Everyone always gets excited about infectious diseases,” she said into a phone. “They’re a fad that’s passed though darling. Trust me, obesity is the new black plague, I promise you.” She looked up and noticing her new guest, set the phone down. “Kim darling, I’m going to have to call you back. There’s someone very important here. Ta ta,” she said hanging up.\n\"Santa, darling, what an absolutely delightful surprise. You look so well. I'm disappointed.\"\n\n\"Death,”Santa said tersely.\n\n\"Oh come now. Six hundred years since the last time we've met and that's all I get. Not even a 'hello' or 'how are you'. I'd expect a little more chivalry from saint,” Death said. A sharp grin spread across her face as she put out her cigarette and began to play with a long braid of black hair.\n\n\"As jolly as I feel coming here and seeing you,” Santa said removing his gloves. “I'm on business and pressed for time. A lot of people these days. A lot of young exemplary children out there with tall orders to fill. I'm sure you can relate.\"\n\n\"Of course darling, of course,” Death said leaning back in her chair. “I’m nothing but business these days. It’s absolute madness. I don’t know how a little mom and pop shop like yours manages to keep up with it all. But then, with a man like you I guess shouldn't be surprised.” She flashed a seductive glare that Santa ignored.\n\n“Yes, well the truth is that our little mom and pop shop isn't keeping up. The elves are working double, even triple time. The misses is baking cookies for them around the clock and I’m working so much I’m actually losing weight. That’s why—as much as it pains me to do so—I’ve come to ask you a favor.”\n\n“A favor?” death said coyly. “For the one man in all of history who has managed to slip away from my eternal grasp, humiliate me, make me into a laughing stock, and on top of it all, never return even one of my phone calls? Oh Santa, baby, you must be desperate.” She bit her bottom lip and looked Santa over, savoring the idea of him standing there in need of her. Although he didn't show any signs of it, she knew he was squirming on the inside.\n\n“It’s simple. And it benefits us a both,” Santa said sternly. “You increase your harvest rate on naughty children by half a point every other decade for the next century. More for you, less for me. Do we have a deal?”\n\nDeath’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Correct me if I’m wrong darling, but aren’t the little snot nosed coal bags the least of your problems? Drop a rock in their sock and call it night before Christmas. Should be quicker than succumbing to a hemorrhagic fever.”\n\nSanta nodded. “True. But naughty children grow up into naughty adults that can have too many nice children. The demand is a stress on us now, but we can manage. In the short term at least. I need long term insurance though.”\n\n“Well darling, then I’m going to need a favor in return,” Death said leaning forward. Her eyes began to slide down Santa’s coat. “Why don’t you pull your sack out and let me see if there’s anything I like.”\n\n“Not happening,” Santa said hoisting up his belt and pulling his coat down.\n\nDeath leaned back and folded her arms in front of herself, doing her best to pout attractively. “Still not on the naughty list,” she said lighting another cigarette. “Fine, I want Rudolph. And not by a natural death. I want him to hit a jet engine and I want him to live. Then I want the veterinarian to pull the plug on him. I’m going to make that nose go out like a broken light bulb when he does.”\n\n“Deal,” Santa said putting his gloves and turning.\n\n“Delightful seeing you darling,” Death called as the skeletons closed the door behind Santa. “If you ever in need anything, my chimney is open for you any time.”\n\n", "\"yo wassup Death my homie\" \n\n\nsaid a balding fat man in a blood red jumpsuit. Taking a big swig of a bottle of Jack Daniels.\n\n\n\"whats up my fav grease monkey\" said a high pitched voice from under a black hoodie.\n\n\n\"too many naughty ass human bitches to give presents to..... can you take care of them?\"\n\n\n\"sure big man\", said Death, and kisses the man on the side of face, \"love you darling\". \n\n\nShe says something in a unholy language. And from below a flaming hound with three heads, surfaces and she leaps on its back.\n\n\n\n\"I've heard of this new form of pestilence, its called Ebola\"\n", "I had just sat down in front of the fireplace to relax for the evening when there suddenly came a knock at my door. Who could be bugging me at this hour of the night? My jaw nearly fell off when I opened the door for there in front of me stood Santa Claus. Now you may think that all of us more fantastical beings know one another, but let me just reassure you right now, that even some beings are still separate from one another.\n\n\"Santa Claus? What are you doing on my porch?\" The old man didn't seem himself. Of course everything I knew about the man was derived from books and movies, but he didn't look anywhere near jolly. His hair was all disheveled, his shirt looked as though he hadn't changed in over a week and his pants were starting to burst at the seams.\n\n\"Reaper... I... need your help. I just can't do it any more!\" Santa seemed to choke back some tears and, feeling his strength waver, leaned his heavy body against my door frame for support.\n\n\"Come in, come in. Have a seat!\" With no idea of what to say to him, and still surprised that he existed, I cringed at what I said next. \"Can I get you anything? Some milk and cookies?\"\n\n\"No. No... I will be fine. Maybe some water. Look, Reaper. I really need you're help. I'm at my wits end! Mary told me not to come, Hermey said I should see a shrink and even Cornelius advised me to seek professional help! What am I to do?\"\n\n\"Whoa, whoa. Slow down, Santa. Please... tell me what you need me for.\" I handed him the water which he drank down rather quickly.\n\n\"I need you to kill them. Some of them...maybe ALL of them! No, that's no good. Maybe just a few of them. I can't do it all, Reaper!\"\n\n\"Hey, look Santa. I'm down for killing and all that,\" in fact it IS my business, \"but who are we talking about here?\"\n\n\"The naughty ones! Each year the naughty list keeps growing and growing! The good list has even started to shrink! Earth's population is getting out of control. I didn't mind it when it was balanced, but I can't keep up with all the demand for coal! You know how much that stuff costs? It's expensive and they even seem to enjoy it now. Using it in their barbeques, for fuel, for steel production! It just isn't the same deterrence it used to be. But you...you kill a bunch of those naughty ones and it will set them straight again, ho ho ho.\"\n\n\"You want me to kill them?\" My bony fingers rattled against my chin as I thought. \"I coo-ould kill a few thousand. Would that be enough for you?\"\n\n\"Yes. Maybe. I don't know! A few thousand naughties?\"\n\n\"Actually, here is a contract.\" I clicked my fingers and in a blaze of blue flame one of my standard contracts appeared.\n\n\"A contract? But..but...\"\n\n\"Hey, hey, hey, it's all good, Santa. This just states that you are hiring me to kill some people for 'the good of mankind'. Throughout next year, I wipe out some of those people on your naughty list, your Christmas load gets thinned out. No problem. It even has a clause in there that if your problem isn't fixed, I will go and kill another few thousand. And so on and so forth.\"\n\n\"What will it cost me?\" Santa could barely meet my gaze. He was obviously ashamed of how low he had fallen. Patron saint of children my bony ass! But the price was actually something I had not thought of. His eternal soul would go great with the rest of my collection, but the guy was immortal AND a saint, so the upstairs guys had dibs when he finally retired. What did the fat man have that I wanted?\n\n\"The cost of the contract will be one reindeer.\"\n\n\"One of my reindeer?\" Santa bristled at the prospect of losing one of his fabled animals.\n\n\"Not one of your favourites, of course, but one with flying capabilities. As well as six elves.\"\n\n\"And you want my elves?\" Santa was absolutely flabbergasted. If I had any flesh I would have been smirking.\n\n\"One reindeer, six elves AND...\"\n\n\" 'And' what?!\"\n\n\"I want to ride in your sleigh this Christmas.\" Santa was at a loss for words and it was his jaw that nearly fell to the ground. \"Just think of it... Santa and the Reaper. Flying through the air, delivering presents of toys and death, good and evil, bliss and chaos! Man, what a Christmas this will be.\" Santa could say nothing.\n\n* * *\n\nAnd that is the story of how I got my reindeer and elves.", "The wind kisses his cloak ever so slightly. The darkness of his silhouette is quiet and subtle against the ink of the night sky, camouflaging him with the stars and the clouds.\n\n\"Hello, Death,\" I say.\n\nHe shuffles uncomfortably on his feet. \"Hello, Nick,\" he says quietly. \"It does always come to this, doesn't it?\"\n\nI sigh. \"It never does get any easier, does it?\"\n\nHe doesn't answer. Instead, Death takes out a very thick notebook and studies it with a tragic sort of intensity. \"Maybe we can start with Europe. They'll be able to fight whatever we unleash, but not until we've done what we need to. A neighborhood in Prague has got some children that don't seem to be understanding kindness too well. One chap just shot a few of his schoolmates.\"\n\nAgain, all that I can do is sigh. Death is an old, old friend of mine. He's always working, and not many appreciate what he does, but without him, I daresay our world would be in a much sorrier state than it is at present. His mental health isn't always in check, but both he and I know that what is done by us is done for the best - as much as possible. As for my role in all of this, I suppose that the closest thing I am to something nameable is God. I give. But I digress: just as Death gives life in his own way by making room for more, I take lives in my own way by creating them in the first place.\n\nIt is a vicious cycle.\n\nI'm still reluctant about our new idea, though. \"We've never acted with strategy before. This could all go to hell very quickly, only killing the ones who seem bad...\"\n\nDeath laughs heartily. \"Hell? Don't talk to me about hell.\" Then he gets quiet again. \"It's getting to be too much. We have to try something.\"\n\nSlowly, I pick up the whistle hanging from my neck and blow into it. My reindeer rush over, loyal and completely unaware of anything but their own simplistic, mediocre lives. \n\nOh, what I'd give to be a reindeer. \n\nI touch Death's hand, and with our arms interlocked, we soundlessly climb into the sled, armed with both needles and bombs. \n\nI wish I could say that this was our first time.\n\nBut I cannot sit in self pity. There is work to be done. \n\nI look over at Death just in time to watch a tear gliding softly across his hollowed, pale cheek.\n\nGod, to be a reindeer.\n\n\n\n\n" ]	4
	[WP] "I never got to say sorry before she died. Ah well, there's always next time."	[ "\"I never got to say sorry before she died. Ah well, there's always next time.\"\n\nHis eyes had a familiar gleam in them as he said it, the wide pupils darting around the room as he set about frantically adjusting the complicated machinery. He had his father's eyes and his wild, unkempt hair, but the rest must have belonged to his mother, whom I had never met.\n\nAt that moment I wished that I had been able to ignore the sentimentality of nostalgia and destroy it all. I could have burned the notebooks, smashed the equipment. I could have brought the whole building down about me and nobody would have cared! Not until the accident and by then it would be far too late. Instead, I was here again, as the elements raged outside and a far more dangerous storm brewed inside his mind. He was retracing his father's mistakes and I (forgive me!), I was too weak to stop him. He finished his preparations as he turned to me.\n\n\"Activate the machine, Igor\"\n\n\"Yes, master\" I replied. damning both our souls forever.", "Yes, next time. Next time I would be more careful, more deliberate. I had been hasty last time, boldly launching myself into danger. I was so intent on my own personal glory that I forgot those who had been depending on me. The battle raged for what seemed like hours. Again and again I met my foes, my steed carrying me swiftly across the battlefield. But each time I struck out against an enemy, I left my own compatriots undefended. I was a fool.\n\nWhen I finally saw through my own bloodlust, considering for the first time that day the others who had entered into battle at my side, it was far too late. The trap had been sprung. I looked around at the shattered remnants of our once proud army. I knew, even before the final blow was struck against her, it was checkmate.\n\n\nI had two ideas for this one and I couldn't decide between them, so I wrote both." ]	2
	[WP]: write something that will make me say "what the fuck?" out loud	[ "Start by driving a slender object (think thin metal wire) under each nail, one at a time, if the subject refuses to answer a question.\n\n\nIf you slowly force the object beneath the nail while inquiring over and over what you want to know, the torture is noticeably worse.\n\n\nAfter all 20 have been inserted, if the information has not been drawn from the subject, move on to quickly tearing the inserted objects while calmly inquiring for the same information. Promises of reprieve - though not specifying what reprieve (we must assume death) - may help in extracting the sought after information.\n\n\nShould this also fail, move on to removing the individual nails of each toe and finger while maintaining a calm and collected demeanor. Pleasantness may also help crack the subject, at this point. Joyously inquiring as to whether the subject would like to view the nails after removal will increase discomfort.\n\n\nShould information still have failed to be removed, popping the first section of each finger off, just before the first knuckle, will be the next logical step. Each removal should be preceded and succeeded by the calm inquisition for the sought after information, joyous inquiries as to whether the subject would like to see the removed section interspersed as the inquiry director sees fit.\n\n\nOnce the first 10 uppermost finger sections have been removed, leave the subject to soak in their pain for 20-30 minutes while you have a cup of tea and prepare for the next course of questioning.\n\n\nIf the information has not been obtained, the next course should be handled with a demeanor that seems most suited to breaking the particular subject (calm and collected typically recommended). Make note to offer reprieve at irregular intervals, though one may keep in mind that each section of 5 will allow you a good benchmark of progress.\n\n\nIn the next course of questioning, begin with the immediate removal - no questions asked - of the finger above the second knuckle. Once removed, proceed to the next finger. Before removing the third, inquire as to the discomfort of the subject. Respond with humor. Proceed in removal of remaining fingers (Note: remain above the second knuckle, so as to keep the uniformity and not skip remaining steps of the course).\n\n\nOnce the selected hand lacks all sections of fingers above the second knuckle, should the subject still withhold the sought after information, calmly ask for said information. Promise reprieve if the subject cooperates, as well as profess your utmost desire to help the subject in getting out of the course as quickly and painlessly as possible - You do not see any point in the subject suffering any more over such a trivial thing as withholding information! Simply release the information, and the whole course can be foregone! - before exiting the room to allow the subject \"time to think it over.\"\n\n\nEnjoy another cup of tea and a 20-30 minute break.\n\n\nReturn to the course and inquire as to the subject's decision. If information is released, profess your utmost appreciation and exit the room. Inform the necessary higher-ups, and command your executioner to provide the promised reprieve.\n\n\nShould the subject continue to withhold the information, profess your utmost disappointment in the decision, as it will make your helping the subject nearly impossible. Proceed to repeat the previously performed course on the opposite hand.\n\n\nShould the subject still withhold the information, remove the toes of each foot, one by one, while asking for the information and promising reprieve from their torment between each removal.\n\n\nOnce the hand and toes have been completed, proceed to the removal of the remaining sections of the fingers (down to the largest knuckles) and profess your displeasure at having to take the course so far.\n\n\nWithholding of information, at this point, should be met with another tea break (20-30 minutes) and the consultation of your next course curriculum.\n\n\nIt is recommended to utilize one of the following:\n\n\n- A) Segmentation above the Neck\n\n\n- B) Fraying of the Legs\n\n\n- C) Live Abdominal Exploration\n\n\nAll recommended course curricula are noted in the Index, and should be followed precisely.\n\n\nMake note that wounds incurred during this curriculum should be staunched with application of chemical cauterization materials provided with this packet.\n", "There was a knock on the door. Outside it a tall, dark-haired woman stood, silently observing me. I stepped back and gestured for her to enter, and she obeyed, shutting the door behind her. Her hands then moved down to the front of her pants, which she began to unbutton with the expert motions that whisper of long experience. As she pulled her pants down to just above her knees, her immense penis started to rise toward me, until I was looking directly into its vertical, pointy-teethed grin. I knew that I must not flinch, or my one shot at greatness was forever gone. Eventually, as its jaws parted, the five-pronged tongue slithered out and formed a sort of fist, its index finger beckoning me to come closer. I knew what I must do. Without fliching, I caught the fingers in a firm handshake, and was violently whisked of to the land of beautiful dreams.", "> Fair warning, this is hardly a \"story\"\n\n> Edit: Wording, spelling\n\nIf only for a short while, one ought to be allowed to be happy, at least glad or just satisfied, despite the state of things. To not allow one self this fleeting but real satisfaction, this in itself swaying pleasure, that is, a temptation and fittingly thereafter a resolution of this temptation, is to harm one self; but do we not often harm our selves in denying our selves this happiness? Why deny it, to rejoice is perfectly innocent; it is hardly without reason that the joy of a child is set as a standard, a remarkable example of such joy; it is innocent, as is its joy.\n\nThough, one does commit such violence against one self. Why is obvious; one desires not disappointment. To be disappointed would be a greater harm, would leave deeper wounds than what would typically be expected from abstinence. Abstinence is not in itself harmful; disappointment is. Abstinence merely disallows old wounds to be stitched, or, in some cases, to heal. Joy heals; joy is the suture of the soul, satisfaction its sedative. As such, abstinence is the immediate lack of suture; the wound cannot be stitched. The wound neither grows nor becomes through abstinence. Disappointment, or the possibility of disappointment, keeps one from attaining joy, because the disappointment will tear new soars, which in effect causes one not to choose joy from then on, so as to not be disappointed, so as to not tear the wound further. Disapppoinment, that is, temptation, subsequent to which there is no fitting resolution, is a knife uncontrolled in the meat of the soft mind. The cure, the medicine, is to seek joy and find it. From this arises an array of troubles.\n\nIn the case that temptation presents itself, one risks not attaining a fitting or expected resolution; in the case that it resolves itself beyond expectations, one is lucky; as expected, merely ordinarily attentive. If one attains resolution, the wound can heal and, once again, one is free to move towards new or different joys. If one is disappointed again; worst case, what is hopefully now a scab on the scar of the wound is torn off; best case, a new soar is torn.\n\nIn the case that temptation does not present itself, disappointment will present itself in its place; to seek temptation is in and of itself a temptation. Herein lies the difference, that, in the case that one abandons one's quest for temptation because one is disappointed that it, for the duration of the quest, has not been fruitful, then the scab of the wound is torn off and one is not immediately capable of guiding one self towards a new such quest. The very act of seeking temptation, seeking joy, makes one vulnerable; wounds, in this situation, are more easily torn and they heal much slower, in some cases not at all. One falls to one's knees in a throe of pain and does not stand up again, not before the rhythm of the lungs is recognizable and once again one can breathe freely through the pain of the wounds. Every sigh and tremble troubles the wounds; twist them, stretch them, extend their healing. Some particularly soft minds are at this point at risk of being disappointed by their own lungs. These minds can hold their breath and die, or they can tear new soars till they bleed out.", " They had the knowledge, they had the means, some of them even had the will. \n\n When it came down to it though they clung to things of no worth and poisoned themselves. \n\n All the civilization and years of technology came to nothing. \n\n The once great works lay shattered, decrepit and decayed from neglect, the scattered remains of the creators skulk in ignorance fighting to survive in a world turned barren by arrogance. \n\n Secure in the knowledge that humanity had weathered many storms in the past they deceived themselves that this would be no different. \n\n Hell the destroyers were going to profit from both ends feeling safe in the knowledge that they would feel no danger as places sunk beneath the waves. \n\n Then came the mosquitoes spreading malaria, waterways choked up with algal blooms and once frozen swamps releasing gas in amounts well exceeding those in industrial disasters. \n\n Death walked the lands of rich and poor alike.", "She smiled and then turned to lick the hairy, sweaty back of the man who stood next to her holding the umbrella. A chimp wearing a tuxedo rode a tricycle through the room hurling bananas. That was when the tuba players turned as one and shot out a purple spray of sweet tasting liquid out of their brass instruments. The accordian player turned and said, \"Uoy evol I.\" How many crabs did it take to power a fax machine?", "Grandpa put me up on his lap. \n\"Did I ever tell you the time I got a sinus infection for a whole straight damn fucking week, sonny boy??\"\n\"No papa, you never told me thaaat story!!\"\n\n\"It was a hot as a mother fuck summer day and I just turned 22. I was having a few beers with the boys in our apartment when someone brought over a bottle of rum. Boy oh boy we got sloshed as all hell. Shooting back shots like I did in the navy while killing them fucking Japs! God do I hate Japs. This small party we's were having was a blast but everyone passed out! I was being a pussy the whole night and kept dumping out my shot glasses while no one was looking so I really wasnt feeling much of anything. So hell, my double vision wasn't all that bad, I think I might go get me some Taco Bell!\"\n\"Buuut grandpa there were no taco bells back theeeen!!\"\n\"Shut the fuck up little boy yes there were. Dont question your elders. On the trip there, out of the corner of my eye, I see the biggest most blackest most beautiful hooker standing on the sidewalk that I have ever seen in my entire damn life. She was smoking two cigarettes at the same time with a half eaten gyro in her hand and I knew I had a keeper. 'How much pretty lady?' 'How much you got handsome?' 'I got about five fifty and some mints. What will that get me?' 'That'll get me to take you to China town and back with the flick of my tongue' 'Oh boy lady get the fuuuck in then!' I took her back to my place and quickly ran into my roommates bedroom while holding her hand. 'What do you want first sugar?' She asked me. I hesitated and carefully thought out my plan of attack. 'Hmm, could you sit your big ol fat ass on my face?' 'uhhh I dont know if you would want that...' 'I think i do!' 'Alright...its your face...' With that I laid down on the mattress and she pulled down her skirt. The smell of fish was creeping through the air as she hovered her giant Starship Enterprise booty over my head. 'Lay it down on me girl!' As she lowered it down I saw a white ooze seeping out of her panties, dripping on my face. It tasted like old oatmeal. I felt hairy roast beef scrape up against my face as the smell of fish burned my nose. She was suffocating me in all her nasty glory. And for a week after that I had a bad bad sinus infection. But I did have fun.\"", "Say \"what the fuck\" out loud. Do it. Say it loudly, slowly, savor each word. \n\nDid you do it? I know some of you did. But most of you didn't. Well, you're missing out. You're missing out on an experience, an introspective examination of the miracle of speech. \n\nThat little gust of air as you pucker your lips for the \"w\" sound, that's the beginning of the miracle. A softly puffed exhalation reminiscent of a summer breeze, or a lover's whisper. Put your hand in front of your lips and just feel that puff for a bit. Feel how warm it is? Like it's imbued with your body's vital energies, like it's evidence of you being alive. This is the same puff of air we use to warm our hands on cold January days, the same puff of air we use to give the kiss of life to those on the verge of death, and the same puff of air we use to express satisfaction at a job well done. That puff of air, that \"w\" sound, represents life. \n\nAnd then you spread your lips wide, to make the \"a\" sound. Did you know this sound is universal? Every language on Earth has this \"a\" sound. This is a sound of brotherhood, of connection, of unity and strength. The widening of your lips is analogous to spreading your arms wide, to embrace your fellow man and say to him, \"We are one.\" After life comes companionship. \n\nAnd then your tongue lifts to the roof of your mouth, pressing against your hard palate and holding back the air in your lungs, until it finally relinquishes its position and produces the \"t\" sound. Give it a try. Feel that soft jolt that goes through your body when your tongue finally deigns to permit the passage of air. Feel the pressure building in your mouth, that moment of anticipation, before the ultimate release. Feel your mastery over the element of air, how you can move and stop it at will, and how it is subject to your whims. \n\nBut that's not all. Your tongue immediately moves between your teeth to create the voiceless dental fricative sound, the \"th\" sound we know so well. Feel the contrast between teeth, hard as stone, and your tongue, soft and moist. Are your teeth, in their rigid adherence to their given shape, more durable than your soft tongue? If so, then why do we get cavities in our teeth and not our tongue? Why do we lose our teeth in our old age, and yet our tongues always remain? \n\nAnd then your tongue draws back, shrinking back into its home, as you exhale and speak the vowel sound of \"e\". Or perhaps not. Perhaps you skip this sound altogether. Perhaps the word \"the\" doesn't warrant a vowel sound, and you simply hiss \"th\" before moving on to the next word. Is that what you do? \n\nFeel next the slight masochistic pain as your lower lip presses against your upper teeth, the labio-dental fricative sound that is \"f\". Feel your cheeks puff out ever so slightly as you try to force the air between your teeth and lips. The corners of your mouth draw back slightly in a natural grimace, a fitting expression for the profane word you're about to utter. \n\nAnd then your mouth opens wide again, that guttural \"uh\" sound that is reminiscent of our deepest and most primitive sides. This sound is used to express confusion, disgust, or anger, emotions that come from the oldest lizard-like parts of our brains, emotions that helped us survive as we tried to make fire in caves. \n\nAnd finally, the \"k\" sound, one that begins in the deepest depths in the back of your throat, before exploding forward in a symphony of sound. It is a sound that represents finality, a fitting finale for the phrase you have just uttered. It tells your listener, \"This is what I want to say, and now I have finished saying it.\" \n\nSo try saying \"what the fuck\" out loud. Say it loudly, slowly. Savor every word, every sound. Say it out loud with me. \n\n\"What the fuck.\" \n\nDid you do it? " ]	7
	[WP] Google just revealed its true nature and intentions	[ "Google.\n\nThe word once meant an internet search engine. Now it refers to our overlords.\n\nThe art of deception, as it turns out, is quite easy when you have distractions. They pioneered technology that past generations couldn't have dreamed of. They cataloged the entirety of the internet, and when they ran out of internet, they began to catalog everything else. Painting, historic documents, everything. Google Translate could translate English into ancient Cunieform. You could google any person who ever lived and get a result. We were all in marvel of it.\n\nThen we learned their true reason for doing this.\n\nWhile we had all been giving humanity the gift of knowledge, they were working on giving themselves the gift of power.\n\nHow did we never notice the monopoly they had taken over us?\n\nEverything went through Google. It was Big Brother come to life. \n\nYet there is hope. Google has control of almost every aspect of our lives now. Our phones, our information, our dreams, but not our social media, for if there's one thing we'll never bow down to, it's Google Plus.", "\"'Google is mighty, Google knows all, Google can has cheezburger'?\"\n\nThere was a moment of embarrassed silence from the engineers as he read out the printed declaration they'd just handed him. \n\n\"Uh, yeah.\" One scratched the back of his head awkwardly. \"You see, it may have become sentient, but it doesn't really have what you'd call an adult perspective.\"\n\n\"I mean the sentience only came in with a recent update,\" the other piped in. \"It's basically a toddler.\"\n\n\"Right. And its priorities are a little skewed by content-\"\n\n\"'Google cannot believe what this cock-hungry MILF invented with one weird trick.'\"\n\n\"It really says more about the users than the software or its coders-\"\n\n\"'Google demands ethics in video game journalism.'\"\n\n\"Yeah, okay, we'll shut it down.\"" ]	2
	[WP] You are a Canadian border guard on patrol when American soldiers invade. What do you do?	[ "Geographically, Point Roberts was an extension of the Tsawwassen Peninsula, just south of Delta and the rest of the Greater Vancouver Area. No different from any other part of BC, really. \n\nExcept for the little fact that, due to being south of the 49th parallel, the spit of rock that was Point Roberts and its' town of 1300-odd people were throughly American - an isolated exclave of Washington state. Completely surrounded by water and with no room for air or ferry services, the only way to get in or out was, yep, drive through Canadian territory. Serious emergency cases were sent to Canadian hospitals, firefighting services are supplemented by departments in Delta, phone services up until recently were handled by BC Telus, and even utilities are provided by us friendly northern neighbours. \n\nThat last one would prove to be a sore point. Would it really kill Point Roberts to maybe pay their water and hydro bills like decent folk instead of mooching like a giant star-spangled leech? Delta's mayor even went on record saying that we'd withhold utility services unless the past 50-odd years of backlog were paid. With interest. And if Point Roberts didn't like it, tough.\n\nCue the Internet, the pundits, and the American news media. Calls of \"they should pay up\", \"why bother?\" and \"they should've been Canadian in the first place\" mutated into things like \"they'll be Canadian now\", \"Point Roberts secede\" and \"passive-aggressive takeover of sovereign American territory\", which made me laugh because that wasn't what this was about at all. \n\nToo bad nobody told their Joint Chiefs. \n\nI looked up at the soldiers storming north to surround my little shack of a customs office in Tsawwassen and thought, yeah, this shit just got blown way out of proportion. ", "French fries...\n\nI never thought it would come to this.\n\n\n\n\nI was embroiled on the front lines of the great American and Canadian War of 14. We would fight for days and never move an inch. For the most part, it was easy living. Wake up, make sure your trench was clear, look after you gear, maybe look across the way and sometimes check Reddit for updates on /r/Warof14.\n\nIt was mostly banter. Someone trying to say they had the best trench moment. We had been fighting for years, but no one seemed to be talking about it. Instead it was \"hey look at how my trouser looks like Robert Downey Junior!\"\n\nWe had been fighting it out over French fries. Now, to the Yanks, it was french fries smothered in a bunch of cheese and meat. To us Canadians, it was a way of life. You could have been just shot down by a 2 out of 10, and you've had a few Molsons and you're looking to ease your soul. There is nothing like poutine to fix everything that might be wrong.\n\nBut the Yanks think French fries are not to be fucked with. AT MOST, you will add some shredded cheese, bacon and maybe some scallions. Anything resembling the saucy, and oh-so-gooey-and-lovely, poutine won't even make it into fast food places, let alone bare staples. Even though, it is beloved by drinkers everywhere.\n\nIt was at this moment I heard a gigantic \"HOO RAH\" and I was blown the fuck up by a GPS guided missile that was fired from more than 500+ miles away." ]	2
	[WP] He watched as the door slowly began to open. Knowing that there was nothing he could do, he braced himself for the worst...	[ "Aetius cringed with the occasional wave of pain he has suffered, the few words that meant anything echoed through his head for the past hour \n\n\nYOU ARE THE LAST ONE ALIVE, COMPLETE THE MISSION, FAILIURE IS NOT A OPTION\n\n\n\nhow nice of the Empire to give such a great and encouraging sentence, the monsters, no these things were a crime against nature, manage to completely kill his squad, there wasn't a single hope, the monstrosity was a pale albino with long sharp claws and a bony hunched back, it was covered in blood of his former friends, and he swore he saw it smile. \n\n\nAetius wondered why he was sent to such a random world, this world was halfway across the galaxy and served no purpose to the empire except a small research center in the middle of a storm plagued tundra. He deserved to be on diplomacy missions and enjoying the luxary of a officer position, not bleeding out on a dusty and cold stone floor. \n\n\n\nAetius looked down at his large open wound, a deep slash across his chest that the morphine failed to numb. He couldn't even kill himself as he dropped his rifle in the encounter and the gods laughed at him as he jammed his pistol, and he made the decision to carry a ceremonial dagger instead of a combat one. \n\n\n\nHe threw his pistol in frustration against the wall and hoped that he bled out before that monstrosity came around. He heard the metallic ring throughout the halls of the station, along with the soft hum of rushing cold winds against the glass windows. He didn't like the outcome of the action he forced himself to take, he clicked a button on his chest armor and it beeped. And the gods laughed at him more. A robotic voiced, in a almost mocking tone, spoke\n\n\n*\"EXPLOSIVE DEVICES HAS NOT BEEN APPROVED,\"*\n\n\n\n\n\nAetius heard skidding, a large screeching howl rang back. And claws touched the floors forcing Aetius's skin to crawl under his armor. The skidding grew louder until. \n\n\n\nHe watched as the door slowly began to open. Knowing that there was nothing he could do, he braced himself for the worst...\n\n\nThe white monstrosity slowly crawled into the room, Aetius swore he saw a smile appear on its face, it took a wicked pleasure in killing,the blood of his friends were still proudly shown on the skin of the monster, the pure black eyes focused on its new victim. \n\n\n\n\nIt screeched again, causing Aetius's ears to ring. Aetius was glad that his helmet covered the look of fear on his face, but he felt that this monster could see it\n\n\n\nThe familiar touch of claws hit his abdomen yet again, and finished the job", "Daniel picked up the gun and loaded it with bullets. He lit a cigarette and took a deep draw, letting the smoke fill up his lungs. He switched on the TV, went into the kitchen to pour himself a drink. Whiskey and a cigarette. He felt slightly better already. He smoked in silence for a while, waiting. \n\n\nHe finished his drink and poured himself another one. Looking out the window, he saw a black car pull up in front of his apartment building. His hand tightened against his gun. Two people got out of the car and entered the building. Daniel started counting the seconds. \n\n\nHe quickly poured himself another drink and drank it one go. He could hear footsteps outside his door now. He had left it unlocked. He watched as the door slowly began to open. Knowing there was nothing he could do, he braced himself for the worst. \n\n\nThe two men he had seen getting out of the car entered his tiny apartment. They spotted him standing in his kitchen, a gun in one hand, a glass of whiskey in the other. The shorter of the two men closed the apartment door. The tall, bulky guy went into the kitchen. \n\n\n\"Hello, Daniel.\" The tall man's voice was gruff and hoarse. He was looking Daniel straight in the eyes. \"Put down the gun. It's not going to help you now.\"\n\n\n\"Oh, I know that. Even the Devil can't help me now.\" Daniel's voice was calm; the whiskey had done it's job. Daniel shrugged his shoulders and set the glass down on the counter with a loud clank. He wiped his lips with the back of his free hand. \"Would you boy's like a drink? No? Well, suit your self.\"\n\n\nThe short man had entered the kitchen as well. He was looking around with an expression of mild distaste on his face. \"Great place you've got here. Perfect for a rat like you.\"\n\n\n\"Thank you, my good sir.\" Daniel curtsied towards the short man. His words were slurred now. He could feel the alcohol induced dizzyness take over him. \"Would you like a tour?\"\n\n\nThe two men looked at each other and nodded. The tall man moved towards Daniel, who immediately pointed the gun at him. The tall man stopped in his tracks.\n\n\nThe short man took out a gun and pointed it at Daniel. \"Well, this is awkward now, isn't it Daniel? Be a good boy and put down your gun.\"\n\n\nDaniel gave a small grunt of laughter. \"I'll be damned before I do that. I'm not going down without a fight. You wanna get me, you gotta pay the price.\"\n\n\n\"Why don't you shoot already then? Get it over with?\" The tall man took a step towards Daniel, who took a step back, but didn't shoot. \n\n\nDaniel lowered his gun slightly. \"How did you know it was me?\"\n\n\nThe short man did not lower his gun. \"Sherry told us. Wasn't too difficult to beat it out of her.\" \n\n\nDaniel felt a knot of dread in his gut. \"She dead?\"\n\n\n\"Nah. Just a little banged up. Will be back in business in no time.\" The tall man grinned to himself as he made a crude gesture with his hands.\n\n\nDaniel immediately raised his gun again, disgust and anger in every line of his face. \n\n\nThe tall man's grin faded and a hard expression took over his face. \"Yeah. That love is the reason you don't wanna shoot. You're gonna die anyways, don't make things worse for the girl.\"\n\n\n\"Yeah Daniel. Just put down the gun.\" The short man gestured towards the kitchen counter with his gun. \n\n\nDaniel looked from one man to the other. They both smirked at him. With shaking hands, Daniel put down the gun onto the counter. The short man lowered his gun and the tall man grabbed Daniel's shoulders. \n\n\nIn a split second, Daniel grabbed the bottle of whiskey and swung it hard onto the tall man's head. The impact was hard, it tore open the tall man's skull and his blood splashed Daniel. The short man fired at Daniel, but he ducked. The bullet hit the refrigerator. Before the short man could fire again, Daniel shoved the broken handle of the whiskey bottle in his face. \n\n\nThe short man howled with pain and dropped the gun. Daniel grabbed it and shot him in the head. He turned around and shot the tall man. He kept shooting him till the bullets ran out. \n\n\nDaniel dropped the gun and slid onto the floor. He watched the blood flow from the two bodies. None of it felt very real. He pulled out his cellphone from his pocket and took a pic of the two men. He sent the pic to his undercover handler. Within seconds, his phone started ringing, but he felt too weak to pick it up. He just sat there on the floor, holding his head, until the cops came." ]	2
	[WP] "Let's just say that Darkness and I have... Well, let's just call it an understanding."	[ "\"Let's just say that darkness and I... Well, let's just call it an understanding.\" \n\nSmoke lingered in the air causing the few streaks of light to ebb like a milky ocean caught in midair, the room was pitchblack otherwise. Patches of light sat on the ground, a gift from the full moon outside and on one side of the room stood a man dressed like you or I. On the other side of that room that was wallpapered with books sat a young woman on a desk. A black satin dress hung off her shoulders and stopped just below her knees, a cut out at the side revealed one leg all the way up to the hip. Black lipstick, black hair that flaired up at the front then curved gracefully downwards, tilted to one side and long. Her sleek fingers held onto a thin stick, a cigarette burning at the far end. \n\n\"Yes, the darkness I get on very well indeed.\" She pulled the tips of her fingers along the desk she was sat on like she was pulling something off the desk. With a flick of the wrist, the picture of finesse, she held her hand up and floating above her palm was a pitch black orb. \"The shadows, the night, abandoned houses. The corner of your eye. We can thrive anywhere we like. If we are careful.\" She took a drag of her cigarette and exhaled coolly through her nose, \"But surely you know all that, don't you?\" She smirked and rolled her wrist again, the ball dissipated back into the night like liquid.\n\nShe looked at him with the faux coyness that only a master flirt can produce and slid down from the desk onto her high heels. Her hips swayed from side to side as she closed the distance between herself and the man on the other side of the room. A drag from her cigarette and she grabbed his tie to pull his eyes down to her level, smoke hiss out of her nose and she looked him in the eyes. \"So then, do you have the courage to do it? You're here now, you've made it this far.\" She reached down with her free hand and took and took one of his, guided it up to her head.\n\nHe was holding a stake, silver and well worn, the end was even blunt from use. She held onto his hand and pressed the pointed end of the stake up against her temple, with a smirk she twisted his hand clockwise and back a few times, grinding it against the cold skin there. \"You followed me through the night, over hill and field, through city and town. Now you're here. Do it.\" She leaned up into his gaze, slowly boiling over with excitement though his steely gaze didn't falter. Something that unfortunately bored her. She turned from him and slinked away, to the other side of the room, ribbing him as she went.\n\n\"You've been relentless. We know. You hunt us but we are the hunters, we see all of you, all of your little movements, your gatherings, we keep tabs on every last one of you. We see you when you move and we dance around you like blind children in the night.\" She turned her head over her shoulder, looking back just to check if he had moved, though he had not and neither had his expression faltered which she found aggressively boring. Her cigarette burnt out and she idly prepared another one while climbing back to sit on the desk. \"You do know that you've only got one shot at this, right?\" She asked, her words impeded ever so slightly by the cigarette holder in her mouth. A match hissed and struck to life in fire and she pressed it to her cigarette which wobbled as she spoke. \"You've got that little ball of light you people love to use. But you've only got one, I don't quite know why you came here without stopping off at your little clubhouse and restocking.\" She accounted as she pulled the match away, shook it to sleep in her delicate fingers and tossed it aside. \"Soon, those dark clouds are going to cover over the moon.\" \n\nShe looked up at him with a smirk as the end of the cigarette crackled and receded backwards, leaving ash that dropped away. \"And it will be dark.\"\n\nThere was a silence, her eyes bore into his and though his face never changed, his grip tightened around his stake.\n\nShe blew smoke out of her mouth in a steady and controlled stream and when she was done she addressed him with a smirk. \n\n\"Make your move.\"\n\nAnd he did. His free hand reached into his coat pocket and threw a small ball to the ground, it burst open and spread light through the room, brighter than day. She screamed and hissed as the light washed over her, as it blinded her partially though she could still see his figure moving. He lunged for her but she fell backwards to lie on the desk, the stiletto heel of her shoe dug into his chest but his coat was thick and blocked it. He drew his hand back over his head to slam it down into her chest, her eyes were thin like a cats and her fangs were bore, thin and long they stopped just short of her chin. He stabbed down at her but she pushed him away with both feet and he stumbled backwards. The situation reset, there was stillness, silence. She regained her vision and replaced the cigarette holder in her mouth. \"You've blown your advantage, haven't you?\" She asked, exhaling smoke arrogantly.\n\nBlack clouds crept ominously closer to the moon until the bright quadrants on the ground were patched up by shadow, one by one. She eyed them with vitriolic joy, \"And here comes my advantage.\"\n\nHe panicked and turned for the door, though she was already upon him. The last sight he ever saw were long, sharp teeth and a jaw that opened wider than his face. He was gone before the clouds uncovered the moon and he never saw light again. \n\nThere was a knock at the door and a kind mans voice shouted through, \"Honey, honey it's near midnight.\" A more friendly and familiar voice. She took a drag of her cigarette and fixed her dress upon her shoulders. \"One minute, darling.\" She replied as she dragged the body behind the desk to deal with in the morning and with a spring in her step she exited the room into a waiting pair of arms. \"I do not know how you can spend your nights in that library without even so much as candle light. Is it even possible to read in such darkness?\"\n\nShe smiled, giggled almost, \"Oh dear, let's just say that darkness and I... Well, let's just call it an understanding.\" She winked and kissed his cheek, smoke blew from her nose and there were no fangs, no stakes, no blood. Just....\n\nThe darkness.\n\n---\nProof reading suuuuuuucks.", "What so many seem to forget is that even God admits that there was Darkness before anything else. Shit, for all we know, Darkness is older than God. Or at least the two were created at the same. Everyone likes to worry about Satan, Lucifer, the Beast, the Anti-Christ, the blah blah BLAH BLAH! What about that endless void of nothing that God used to call his roomie?!\n\nEven if you don't believe there is a God or Satan, there's a whole lot of Darkness right outside or planetary doorstep. We have that big ball of nuclear fusion and magnetism that keeps everything nice an comfortable for us, but we forget about that crushing void that just sorta...hangs there.\n\nWell I'm about to blow your fucking mind you ignorant little shit! Let's pretend that the Darkness and God are the two most powerful entities that have ever existed. Fuck Satan; he was one of God's creations so he certainly isn't more powerful than that guy right? The light and the dark. Seems a common enough duality. God made us, so naturally he would give holy books and art to praise him, and music to sing his name. Why does the Darkness ignore us?\n\nBecause darkness permeates infinitely more of the universe than light. Little specks of starlight between endless oceans of void. Even our own planet, filled with worshipers of the light, is half covered in darkness at any moment. The Darkness fills every room, every home, every neighborhood in the world at some point every day.\n\nYou can't run from shadows forever. And even if you could, Darkness fills almost the entire universe!\n\nSo I got it in to my head, maybe the Darkness listens to prayers just like God, ya know? Not some black cloak, hail Satan, 666, teen goth bullshit okay! I mean a prayer, whispered to some nameless thing that left us alone since the dawn of man. What would happen then?\n\nAt the end of each day, as the Sun sets, I would whisper a little prayer for the Darkness. What I wanted, how I felt, what I needed.\n\nAnd kiddies, let me tell you: the Darkness answered back. God doesn't give two shits what you want! He has to listen to a few billion little insects bitch and moan, and you think he still has patience and mercy?! Fuck no. But the Darkness...oh the Darkness. It's got nothing but time for my words. Even if there are other people who figured it out, how many of them could there really be? A few hundred or thousand?\n\nThe Darkness has given me gifts beyond what you could ever imagine. I see the hand of the Darkness everywhere now. It finds our world fascinating. I can feel its eyes on me, its words drip down my spine as I sleep. It says he never understood the Lights decision to create life, but now it sees the appeal. We move, eat, sleep, talk, fuck, dance, drink, lie, cheat, feel, create, destroy.\n\nThe Darkness has found us. And it doesn't want to leave." ]	2
Thinks centaur, werewolf, drider, mermaids and so on. It will be fun watching the vegetarian wake up as a half-tiger.	[WP] Everyone on earth suddenly wakes up as half-animals.	[ "It was strange when that pulse hit the world. It had a... number of notable effects. For one thing, vegetation growth exploded world-wide, leaving none to starve but... well, a lot of people had their eating habits changed to match their new bodies. Sure, there were the gazelles who could eat grass, but there was also the lions, wolves and alligators who had to eat meat. Strangely, wildlife populations also grew out of control as well, meaning that none would be able to starve.\n\nWell, there was one strange thing about how people changed - there was now a clear difference between People, those who used to be human, and Animals, just the original creatures. Predatory species of People couldn't harm another Person, but they could hunt Animals just fine, although people didn't tolerate Predators who just went out of their way to kill Animals. Butchers were still a popular place to buy meat due to how some people were sickened by dead Animals.\n\nYet, it didn't take away the actual ability to digest meat from Herbivores or plant-life from Carnivores - no, we were all still omnivores, but we now gravitated towards our new Species' traditional diets. Hell, the head of PETA was now a Tiger but outright refused to eat meat.\n\nMost People were either Taurs or Anthros, Beasts or Beastkin, which determined what kind of body they had. Centaurs were common Taurs, but there were also Nagas and Mermaids. Anthros were still the 'Two Arms, Two Legs Standing Upright' group. I was an Anthro, actually - it was easier for me to adjust. At least I didn't have to learn how to walk again. Beasts looked exactly the same as any other Animal, the only real difference was that they could talk and any other People who tried to hunt them got violently sick. Beastkin were the most human - the only real difference was their ears and if they had a tail or not.\n\nWhen it comes to remembering that day, when it all happened... it was kind of fuzzy, actually. I was up late at night, working on fixing my computer when I fainted. Mum and Dad were on their own private vacation so I stayed at home. When I came to... Well, let's just say that I was glad that the strange magic that caused this - and it had to be magic - also made my house bigger as well since I think I'd definitely have the walls collapsed in on me when I changed. Let's just say that I was glad when I had woken up the next day and everyone was confused. Luckily it also changed my clothes since I wasn't naked when I woke up.\n\nI was an Elephant, one of the larger animals. I stood a solid 12-feet tall at full height. Sure, I was the shortest person in my class in High School (I wish it was just random speculation, but the bastards put it in my first year's yearbook so it was public knowledge) but now I literally towered over everyone else. It was a pain in the ass, though - no public transport would let me ride on them anymore, I couldn't use the car either, I couldn't enter most buildings unless they had double doors and I crawled through them (and even then, I'd occasionally damage the wall moving through), I had to try and get specially-made peripherals for my games consoles and computer... \n\nThere were only a few people that were taller than me since that day, including the gym teacher at my school who had become another elephant, albeit a Taur, this one old guy who spent his days sitting by the pier had become a Megalodon Anthro and - surprisingly - this one kid who was known and bullied for being sick all the time had become a freaking Dragon! He even had magic!\n\nSure, there were all kinds of People now - one girl was relieved to discover that she was the most humanoid as a Peacock Beastkin until someone told her that the large, highly decorated tail was masculine, while - to my own amusement - the school bully had become a Poodle Anthro. While I know that some breeds were bred as warhounds, it was even funnier for me was that he was part of the toy breeds. There was one guy who was at first ashamed at being a Unicorn Beast, until he discovered that he could basically attract most girls with presence alone...\n\nWhen my parents came home after having to trek across the country I was definitely taken aback - Mom was a Dove Beastkin with the power to fly even if she didn't have wings, and she could bestow this power onto others. Dad, on the other hand... well, he was always larger than most people, and being a Blue Whale Anthro certainly made him the tallest person in town.\n\nEventually, things went back to normal - I had to withdraw from school the following year for being too big for the buildings, though. Not that many building could reach into a classroom on the first floor while standing just in the car-park. Dad also had to leave his job - you can't sit in a bank that only went up to your waist... However, we did end up doing better in the long-run. Mum and Dad ended up starting a company for making clothing for larger species, as well as custom fitting for others. They've been at it for years now and had moved down to Malibu on their profits alone. Turns out that there were a lot of people who couldn't get clothing anymore before they came along.", "I was woken by a tickling sensation on my nose. I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. Then I stopped, and looked down at my hands in horror.\n\nThey were covered in soft black fur, with only my palm and the undersides of my fingers left exposed. I realised that my arms were also covered in fur.\n\nI scrambled off the bed and looked in my mirror. What I saw there nearly made me scream out loud.\n\nMy entire body was covered in the black fur, except for down the front of my torso and up around my mouth. I looked at my face. Oh God, my face. My nose had flattened like a cat's, and I had long white whiskers sprouting from my cheeks. My eyes, which had already been green, now had slitted catlike pupils. When I opened my mouth, my teeth were small and sharp. I noticed a pair of triangular ears twitching on either side of my head as well.\n\nFeeling something in the back of my pyjama bottoms, I reached in and pulled out a long tail. It was growing from the base of my spine. With a little effort, I found I could move it around.\n\nI looked back at my fur-covered face in the mirror and tried not to panic. The most important thing right now was to remain calm. I debated whether to show my parents. No, they would just freak out.\n\nI couldn't just shave it all off. My eyes and nose would still be noticeable, as would my ears. Nor could I hide it until school was over. There was nothing for it.\n\nI began to get dressed determinedly. If people were going to see me like this, then I would show them I wasn't afraid.\n\n * * \nIt relieved me massively when I stepped through the gates and saw that the same thing had happened to everyone else. There were several people with massive wings instead of arms just inside the gate, all trying to achieve flight for more than a few seconds (but failing miserably). One of them, a friend of mine called Anna, looked around as I approached.\n\nShe smiled and half-ran, half-flapped over to me. I saw that she had a massive swan's bill over her mouth. It somehow flexed when she spoke, allowing her to talk clearly.\n\n'Isn't this great, Sabrina?' she said excitedly. 'Everyone's turned into half-animals!' She looked me up and down. 'So you became a cat? That's so cool! Let me see your tail!' I obliged, turning to show her and waving it in the air a little. I had cut a slit in the seat of my jeans to allow it to poke through.\n\n'We'd better get to class,' I said. 'The bell is about to go.'\n\nShe nodded and we entered the school building. I saw many more animal hybrids as we walked through the corridors. One of the senior girls was trying to keep all four of her breasts in control as she retrieved books from her locker. Her skin was covered in large white and black patches. I guessed that meant she had become part cow.\n\nAnother student, a boy this time, was making his way across the ceiling when we entered the classroom. He waved at us upside down. Definitely gecko. We both turned to watch as my friend Belinda slithered into the classroom. Her skin was covered in light brown scales, but that wasn't the weird part. From the waist down, she had a long snake's body, nearly six metres long.\n\nShe smiled and stuck out a forked tongue at us playfully as she moved past and coiled herself up beside her seat. Then a clopping noise made us all turn as our teacher, Mr. Beckett, came into the room. He had tiny horns on his temples and hairy goat's legs with hooves at his feet.\n\nHe cleared his throat. 'Now, I'm sure you're all very surprised to see me and everyone else like this,' he said. 'We're trying to find out what caused this, but for now, we will have class as normal. Understand?'\n\nWe all nodded. Mr. Beckett turned to the whiteboard and began to write about Shakespeare. I slumped down on the desk. I couldn't wait till lunchtime.\n\n * \n\nEver had lunch while a girl who's half fish from the waist down is sitting next to you? Well, I have now. She was lucky not to have developed gills, in my opinion. Otherwise she could have suffocated. But no, all she had was a two-metre long fish tail from the waist down that stuck out under the table. She told me she was having trouble getting around with it, but she was looking forward to getting home and into her parents' pool.\n\nWhen I was finished, I put my tray in the receptacle and looked around. To my surprise, I was being gestured at by a girl at a table nearby. I came over and sat down, looking around at the other girls at the table.\n\nThey were all feline animals, I realised. There were two lionesses, a tigress, a panther (who was the one who had beckoned me over), and two other normal cats like me, one with tortoiseshell fur and the other with grey.\n\n'Welcome to the Kitty Club!' said the panther girl, her ears twitching excitedly. I smiled back, revealing my pointed teeth.\n\n'We're not calling ourselves that, Amy,' said the tiger girl. She looked down at me. 'I'm Gemma, by the way.'\n\n'Hi,' I said. 'So how are you finding this animal thing?'\n\n'Awful,' she said, gesturing to her plate. There was a small pile of chicken and beef on it. 'I'm supposed to be vegetarian!' She opened her mouth wide, so that we could all see her massive canine teeth. 'I can't even eat vegetables any more!'\n\n'At least you're not part frog,' one of the lion girls said. 'I heard that Georgina turned into one of those poisonous ones you get in the Amazon? Long story short, no-one can touch her and she's stayed in bed all day.'\n\n'You think that's bad?' put in the tortoiseshell. 'My brother got turned part dog and spent half the day coming up behind me and barking. I can't stop myself from running away.'\n\nSuddenly the bell rang. I stood up. 'We've got P.E. now, haven't we?'\n\n'Yeah. Bet there'll be someone who got turned part monkey and climbs all over the bars?'\n\nI laughed along with the rest of them. This animal thing might not be so bad after all.", "Radiation? Divine intervention? Honestly, I’ve no clue. All I know is that when I awoke this morning, massive shit had went down all across the world. And if I were to be more honest, I never expected such a thing to happen while I was living in my parent’s basement of all things.\n\nYou see, my wife, twin son and daughter, and I have been sleeping in my parent’s basement while we saved up for a downpayment on a home. Fortunately my kids were both at their own sleepovers. Unfortunately they were both at someone else’s house, and driving was definitely going to be a challenge for many people.\n\nAlright, now you know some unwanted and probably unneeded information about me. So lets get to what actually happened, shall we?\n\nSo, it being a weekend, I was looking forward to sleeping in, but something brushed my leg and woke me up. As I sat up, I shivered in the cold air that drifted throughout the basement. My wife lay beside me snoring, so I slowly and silently got out of bed to make my way to the bathroom.\n\nAfter I finished using the bathroom I made my way back out to my wife. Nothing had seemed off to me, but in retrospect I can’t believe I was so oblivious. I hit my chest, trying to distract myself from the heartburn I was having. The pizza last night was a bad idea.\n\nI climbed back in bed and cuddled with my wife, only to find a very odd, slippery feeling against my legs. I lifted up the covers to find my wife’s lower half comprised of a mermaid tail. A lesser man may have yelled like a frightened six year old girl, but I assure you I did not. However, my wife promptly woke up right after I saw her new body.\n\nI’m not proud of it, but I did laugh, a lot, when she tried to get out of bed, only to fall on the floor and flounder about. The wife was not very appreciative of my laughter, however, and I have not heard the end of it since.\n\nOkay, so I’m perfectly normal, but I’m staring at my wife who became a mermaid. And then I hear running and the door to the basement opens up. It was then that I realized both my wife and I were naked, and I had to rush to toss the sheets over to her while I dived behind a piece of furniture. They really should have knocked. It turns out, however, that everyone around the world had woken up naked that morning, so I guess my wife and I weren’t the only ones in a similar predicament.\n\n“Big bro,” my younger brother shouted, wearing only boxers. “Dude, it’s insane. Everyone’s woken up as some half-human half-animal hybrid. Some are classic fantasy creatures, others are just a weird mesh of animal and human.”\n\n“Dude, knock!” I yelled.\n\n“So what did you guys get?” my brother asked. He was really irritating me, but I think before the big change I was more of a push over too. Nowadays I’d… Well, maybe I wouldn’t go that far, but back to the story.\n\n“Get?” I asked. “I’m not any sort of animal. Just human.”\n\nMy wife had been silent this whole time, but she slowly lifted up the sheets and revealed her fin, at which my brother started to dance around like a 12 year old girl who just got tickets to some boy band concert or whatever the kids are into these days.\n\n“Mermaid, nice,” my brother said. “Bro, check it. I’m going to kill it with the ladies now.”\n\nI then proceeded to watch three things happen. First, I got to see my brother transform into a werewolf. Second, I got to see my wife pass out from seeing said transformation. And third, I got to see what a werewolf looks like with a dumb look plastered across their face and drooling when the sheets covering my wife’s nude breasts fell off.\n\nI really should have realized what happened to me at that point. I was a lot angrier than normal. Plus, the heartburn was killing me. You’d think I would have popped an antacid by then. Anyways, when I found myself having a chokehold on a werewolf, I knew something was up. My brother couldn’t overpower me, no matter what he did.\n\n“Kids,” I heard my dad shouting. “Stop fighting. We can hear it from up here. And by the way, we’re coming down. I think we all need to talk.”\n\nI let go of my brother and he transformed back into a human.\n\n“Bro, what the hell was that?” he exclaimed. “No human should be that powerful, but you don’t even look like any kind of animal. What are you?”\n\n“I’ve got no clue,” I replied, more interested in the fact that my dad was now a centaur and my mom was already riding on his back down the stairs.\n\n“Son,” my dad said as he looked at me. “Your kids are on the video chat thing. Your mom has the computer. Honey, hand it over to him now, okay?”\n\nLets say that I didn’t expect what I saw next. You just don’t want to see certain things. Especially if it’s your mother. But, as I guess everyone was in a scramble for clothes that morning, there was no hiding it. I accepted the computer from my mother as she dismounted my dad shiver*, something I hoped to never say. My wife had just woken up too.\n\nMy mom had black and white spots all over her skin, but protruding from her stomach was what appeared to be a cow’s udder. Which would not have been that horrifying. Except that my now centaur dad sported a rather noticeable milk mustache.\n\nI turned away and blinked my eyes a few times, but I never have gotten that image out of my mind. By the time I made it over to my wife, she had covered herself up again. I noticed something odd this time, though. It was as if she glowed now, and there was this amazing attractiveness to her that was never there before. I also regret to say that I told my wife this exact thing later, to which I am still groveling at her fin to forgive me for. I’ve found mermaids hold grudges, a lot more than humans do.\n\nAnyways, first we speak with my daughter, at which my wife passes out again. However, I am able to catch the sheets and keep her covered this time. My daughter is very cute, her ears replaced with fuzzy panda ears. She also seemed to be able to turn into an adorable panda-human like version of herself. Oddly enough, she now could speak Chinese and eat bamboo too. Even for all the strangeness that happened that day, that one still takes the cake, as most people didn’t get some extra abilities aside from their animal forms.\n\nOverall, by the time my wife woke up, I had figured out that my daughter was pleased with her transformation. Finally I got her twin brother, my son, on the computer. He was, to say the least, not pleased. Even I was a bit taken aback. His eyes were glazed over, and a lot of flabby skin was hanging from his tiny little arms. And then he put a little effort into it and transformed his arms into wings before letting them turn back into arms. He was, literally, batman. Although he gained echolocation, he became blind and, even though my wife still gives me flack for it, just plain ugly. I mean, I don’t want to be mean to my kid, but yeah, a bat-human hybrid turns out pretty ugly. The only good news is that I’ve heard chicks dig echolocation. And the bad news is that my son turned out to be gay, so that doesn’t help.\n\nAnd so the story of that crazy morning ends. Man, I don’t think I’ll ever forget… Oops, you probably want to know what I became, huh? Alright, alright, I get it. You really want to know. Seriously, you’re nagging me more than my wife.\n\nSo, after having a very uncomfortable family talk, I noticed my brother was looking at my wife a little too much. Turns out her being a mermaid makes it hard for any man without a lot of willpower to not be extremely attracted to her. Of course if they knew how angry, cold, and unforgiving mermaids really are, they might not feel the same way. But I didn’t know this back then, so I got really pissed and started wrestling with my brother. The heartburn had gotten even worse though, and I had to stop for a moment as I was really in pain. And then it happened. I should have realized it wasn’t heartburn. But who the hell would think such an animal existed?\n\nMy family stared in amazement as I let out the loudest belch of my life. It was so loud that the house actually shook. Which I suppose was the least of the house’s worries as the fire flowing from my mouth caused the roof of the basement to catch on fire. Fortunately we all got out of there and outside alive, but the house itself burned down. And when my wife gave me the first mermaid style look of disapproval, I felt so bad that I just wanted to fly away, at which point scales formed all over my skin and two wings protruded from my back. The heartburn started to come back, so I lifted off into the air and let the fire inside of me scorch the clouds. I was part dragon, and honestly I don’t think anyone could beat that.\n\n-302" ]	3
	[WP] During an excavation a strange crystal is dug up, magic suddenly floods back into the world.	[ "Crystal is dug up, geologist holds it up to the light \"What is it?\"\nSUPER TITLE: 3 Months Later\n\nINT. Elementary Classroom\n\nPete: Wouldn't it be cool if I could just snap my hands and make fire appear like they do in stories?\n\nMelissa: I suppose, but if you could do it, then bad people could hurt people.\n\nPete: Yeah, but they wouldn't know about it. If they didn't know they could, why would they ever try?\n\nMelissa: Good point, but you never know.\n\nEXT. School playground\n\nPete: Give it back! Please, Chase! My mom gave that too me!\n\nChase: Haha, Pete is a little baby! His mama left and now she isn't coming back!\n\nPete: That's not true!\n\nBully 1: Hey, Chase, let's see how he likes this.\nBully 1 pushes Melissa down, throws dirt in her face and kicks her.\n\nChase: What are you going to do about it Pete?! You gonna cry?!\n\nPete: STOP! STOP HURTING HER NOW!\n\nChase: Ha, just as I thought. Weak.\n\nThe bullies keep attacking Melissa. Chase is holding Pete against a tree. Pete closes his eyes, tears streaming down his face. He thinks of all of the times he has had to put up with this and how he wishes he could stop it all. How could he? Chase is three years older and much bigger. He closes his fists and concentrates. Maybe there is magic, Pete thought. The ground beneath them started to quake. The wind hissed loudly as it picked up. Everything around them began to shake. Pete concentrated all of his hate, love, and passion. He felt his emotions channeling through his body like circuitry. \n\nChase: Haha this never gets old. Poor Pete never able to fight back.\n\nPete: .....I...said...STOP!\n\nA bright light flashed and a ball of energy exploded from Pete's body as he opened up like a butterfly out of a cocoon. The waves of fire and air struck the bullies, charring their bodies, freezing them as they were but as pure carbon, then speckles of them flew away faster and faster until they had disintegrated completely. Pete looked up, scared that he had lost Melissa. He didn't see her. He puts his head in his hands and starts sobbing. Suddenly he hears something.\n\nMelissa: Pete! Up here!\n\nPete looks up and laughs with excitement. Melissa was floating above him, an aura of green energy surrounded her.\n\nMelissa: What happened? Did YOU do that? That was incredible.\n\nPete: I don't know let me figure out how to get you down. \n\nHe concentrates and she slowly starts to descend. Pete is full of mixed emotions. He doesn't know what happened or why it did, but at the same time he doesn't care. Melissa is alright and that's all that matters.\n\nMelissa: That was amazing!\nMelissa kisses Pete on the cheek\n\nPete: So what now?\n\nMelissa: I don't know, but we can't stay here. We can make it on our on. She sees a flower on the ground and picks it up. She closes her eyes.\n\npan to flower\n\nWe see the flower start to cover up with a light frost starting from her fingertips running all the way up to the pedals. It turns blue and the wind breaks it into pieces.\n", "\"The mad were the first to know, then the children, then finally the scholars. They summoned eldritch horrors, night terrors, and fey creatures from the Void-That-Binds, creating all their hopes and dreams. But with these creatures came their personalities, their truths and fears and traits. Often these poor souls were taken quietly, and without warning.\"\n\n\"It was their madness that offered the flexibility to use, even without knowing that it was there.\"\n\n\"The children were next, creating the fantastic that they had never seen before. Unicorns, dragons, scarecrows, and tin-men, all of these and more. They created play-things and things to protect one-another and themselves.\"\n\n\"It was their innocence that allowed them to see what should not have been there.\"\n\n\"The scientists were last, those brilliant fools who thought the world with their rules. These men would discover the small changes, the way the world did not work, the phenomenon that did not exist with reason. These fools would be the last to realize the potential of the energy from with-out the universe, to realize that they could touch.\"\n\n\"It was their diligence, their stubbornness that that allowed them to know that it was there. It was their foolishness to lock it away again, because of their fears.\"\n\n\"And so it happened once again, the pledge, the turn, and the prestige.\"", "\"How come I'm sittin' here at my fuckin' desk, scribbling notes about some dead jackass on a piece of paper..\" I held up the paper and pencil to embellish my point. \" while Peterson is out there gettin' the story AND the screen time?\" \n\n\"Because your 'the guy that punched the fucking mayor', remember?\" Maria sighed and stood up. Even with her tall 6'3\" frame towering over me, she was not intimidating. Her round face made only rounder by short curly brown locks. Her apparel was very tomboyish, jeans, sneakers, and flannel shirts. Who wears a flannel shirt in July in San Francisco? Don't get me wrong, she was pleasant to look at. \n \n \"We'll I'm going down there. This is a big deal, and I'm gonna see it up close.\" I glared at her.\n\nHer eyes locked with mine and we shared a moment. Maria and I had a long history together. We both went to Columbia, studied journalism, both got out first jobs at the Minnesota Gazette, and we both moved out to San Francisco to work at the Globe. After I got in my little 'scuffle' with the mayor, I relocated to a position at a local news network. Maria came with me. I always felt like she and I would end up together, but I never made a move. \n\nShe turned and left; I should have said something, I should have stopped her. I wish I had. Instead I just scoffed and look away. My eyes wandered to the TV, and I see Peterson staring back at me. 'Great,' I thought to myself, 'now I can WATCH this asshole take all the glory.' \n\n\"Thanks Dan. I'm here live at the Bay where the cargo ship is just being anchored. A reliable source has told me the ship has discovered some sort of ancient artifact out in the Pacific Ocean. Now, it is to early to speculate on the origins of this artifact until it has been examined..\" The screen cuts to a feed of sailors carrying a large stone chest off of a cargo liner. As it zooms in, I can see the chest is glowing a faint green. \n\n\"What in the hell...\" I leaned forward in my chair and turned up the volume. They carried the chest off the dock and set it down in front of a group of archaeologists. \n\n\"The artifact appears to be some sort of chest. The esteemed team of archaeologists is beginning to examine it. This team was hand picked from several countries; they are all in the top of their field.\" The feed cut back to the chest, as the Japanese national was being interviewed. \n\n\"It is unlike anything we have seen. This item predate even the earliest civilization. It raises question about origin of man and even all life on Earth.\" He smiled and turned around quickly to examine it again. The camera zoomed in on the team working, right as one pressed a button on the side. Dust exploded from pressure as the chest opened; now a bright blue light was glowing from inside and becoming brighter by the second. \n\nThe camera feed cut back to Peterson, who now looked completely uncomfortable. That's when I realized there was no sound. He was talking, but all I could hear was a low rumble. I couldn't tell if it was real or in my head. But my eyes were transfixed on that chest, glowing brighter and brighter. Then it went out. \n\nI heard the explosion before I saw it on the tv. Well, I guess I should say I heard every window in the building shatter. Then I saw the footage- a half a second of utter destruction - before I was thrown into the wall by the blast.\n\nWhen my eyes opened I was greeted by a billboard for the World Series, upside down. I stared at it for a long time before I realized where I was. Somehow I was on the top floor of the parking garage. Except it wasn't just the parking garage; it was also the office. The scattered remains of what used to be a tv studio laid scattered in front of me, stuck through car windshields and burning in piles all around. My mind could not comprehend what was happening. I stood up, gasping for air, staring up at the sky. I closed my eyes and wished it all away.\n\nThis is when I noticed how dark it truly was. Never had I seen a night in San Francisco as dark as this. My breathing slowed, and I fought to remember what happened.\n\n' Something exploded. That was for sure. But what was it?' I struggled and struggled but I couldn't remember. Where was Maria? Was she with me when it-whatever it was- exploded? I had to find her, that was all I could think about. I decided I would climb to the top of this billboard and get a view of the damage. \n\nMy legs were badly cut from the blast; I fell three times before I got up to the ladder. As I made my decent I could see a bright green light shining over they top. This was familiar to me, a green light. It grew brighter and brighter the closer I came to the top; by the time I it there, I had to shield my eyes. \n\nBefore me was an enormous crater, littered with remains of what was once San Francisco. In the center laid a gigantic glowing green stone. Even from such a far distance I could see that it was floating, and green lights were moving around it. \n\n\"What-\" Was my only reaction. The gravity of this whole situation hit me. Everyone was dead. Maria. Peterson. Those archaeologists. Even that cool barista that always gave me extra whip. My grip loosened slightly on the ladder and my legs gave out. I plummeted backwards, falling to certain death; So I closed my eyes and accepted my fate. \n\nAgain I opened my eyes to the same sight. \n\n\"Upside down World Series billboard.\" I tried to sit up, but couldn't. Something was holding me on my back. I reached behind me to see if I was tied, but felt nothing. Literally nothing. Frantically I looked around for an answer. And I found it. \n\nI was floating in midair.\n\n", "Deep in a lost pyramid, the famous Glass family attempt to recover the funds they lost to gambling. Surrounded by hieroglyphs Reginald actually spots something, much to this narrators surprise.\n\n\"Honey pie! Come look at this!\"\n\nReginald had his hands deep in the sand pulling it up, a beautiful diamond which caught the eye of his wife Julia as she stepped off the excavation trailer.\n\n\"What is that thing?\" Julia's eyes gleamed so much they almost matched the shining gem in her husband's hands.\n\n\"I have no idea... get Rose! She's good with machines, ask her to video tape us finding it! Here, I'll just re-bury it...\"\n\nReginald carefully put the diamond back into the ground and then threw a fist full of sand over it, in no way hiding it in any manner.\n\nJulia turned her head around letting her hands gracefully meet the sides of her rosy lips:\n\n \"RO GET THE FUCK OVER HERE WITH A CAMERA YOUR FATHER FOUND YOUR COLLEGE FUND!!\"\n\nOut of the trailer stepped a dirty fire-headed teenager holding a laptop and a cheap camera. Her hair may have matched her father's but her temper matched her mothers.\n\nRo begrudgingly turned on the camera, annoyed she was being disturbed from her code academy videos and gave her parents a thumbs up.\n\n\"My gosh Julia, my partner in life and work! What is this gleaming thing hiding in the sand?\" Reginald had been in a play once. A one man's rendition of flailing arms and over-acting in Ro's eyes.\n\nReginald lifted the diamond and admired it, he turned it around and saw strange markings.\n\n\"What is that? Ro bring the camera closer.\"\n\nThe markings formed a strange creature, white with red eyes and an antenna. It begged to be pressed, Ro thought.\n\nReginald brushed his thumb over the symbol in a futile attempt to clean it.\n\nThe diamond changed from its clear color to a black, a text could be read through it. \n\n\"Compiler ready\"\n\nRo looked around the dark room they were in, these hieroglyphs suddenly looked so very familiar to her, she opened her laptop, \"Jacque?\"\n\n^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2ckoa4/wp_a_nerdy_kid_discovers_that_magic_spells_work/cjggs2s?context=3", "The dragons awoke: angry, powerful, and hungry.\n\n * \nPrologue\n\nIt started in a random spot in England, as these things do. \"Merlin's Tomb\" they called it. The archeologists claimed to have found the burial site of the historical figure. It was unadorned, unmarked, and otherwise unremarkable. It was, we later realized, not supposed to be found.\n\nMy parents were watching BBC 4 as it covered the unveiling live and told me about the beautiful chamber. Covered in runic symbols, ancient English writing, and other forms of lettering, the room was impressive. The archeologists there saw the purple crystal in the center of the chamber, the supposed place of honor in these old burial sites. And one of them touched it.\n\nThat was when it happened. The crystal, in all appearances sturdy or else the guy wouldn't have touched it, shattered. The camera feed cut out almost immediately. But not before my parents saw the team of archaeologists evaporate.\n\n * \n\nI turned the corner, ran 20 feet, and jumped in the old trash bin. Thankfully no one was living here. It was not an uncommon thing. The steel was close enough to iron to matter.\n\nI lifted the lid ever so slightly and peered out. Five guys turned the same corner at breakneck speed and split up. 2 went down the alley. 3 went past me. None thought of the hiding spot.\n\nI closed the lid and gave it a few minutes. The purple crystal in my pocket warmed my thigh. The smell of the trash bin irritated my nose. The rust-lined metal threatened to carve a hole in me. My glasses fogged slightly.\n\nAfter five minutes, I peeked out again and saw only an empty street. The lid creaked up without too many complaints, and I jumped out. I flicked off the bits of 20 year old refuse and ran home. With this much mana in my pocket, Lightning no less, I could finally afford to go to school and be safe from the gangs, the Others, and the dragons. I hoped.", "I felt it as the seal broke. We all felt it. Humanity's lost history was dug screeching out of our earth. Humanity once again wielded magic. Magic, however, was sealed for a reason. A very good one. How would I know this? Well lets just say I was the cause. \nLong time ago humans had full control over magic. However magic had its rules and limitations and therefore everyone was kinda satisfied. Until I came along. I broke too many rules that people thought unbreakable, did too many feats that defied their concept of magic. They didn't seal magic because it was better for them or because it was necessary, they sealed it because they were scared. What they thought they understood shattered and was thrown to the ground by my birth, and they simply could not handle it. \nMany long years I had waited for this moment. Many years of suffering, of loss. You see... I am immortal. \nOr was anyway. After they sealed magic I merely became long lived. Like really really long lived. There's a difference. ", "I am Arian. I am 236 years old, and an accomplished mage. I was there, at the beginning. This is my story.\n\nIt started in Antartica, 203 years ago. I was part of a research team drilling under the ice for hidden pockets of water. The goal was to study water locked in time, untouched for thousands of years. One day the drill hit something, only a few feet down. Whatever it was waa solid. So we got tools and began digging. About four feet down, we discovered a plain box. No markings, no cracks, no apparent way to open it. The box sat there for days as it was beaten with hammers, pounded, shaken, even shot. Nothing happened. I had not attempted to open it, but decided to give it a shot. All i did was lay my hands on it. I don't know why, but the lid popped open. Out shot a brilliant blue crystal, the size of a baseball. We all stared as it hung about ten feet up in the air. Suddenly it shattered, and a shock wave blew us off our feet. That odd tingly sensation that you get when putting your tongue on a 9 volt battery; well that sensation ripped through my body. The wind howled, loose snow was everywhere, blinding us. Just like that it ended, but it was just the beginning of so much more.\n\nImmediatly I could tell things were different. Colors were more vibrant, smells were more prevalent. There was a pulse in the air. There was a sense that the long lost piece of a puzzle was at last found and put in place. It was almost immediatly i could sense an unseen force flowing all around. The force was made up of many pieces; I'll call them threads. I could sense different threads doing different things. Unbidden thoughts entered my mind. I knew how to fo things. If i pulled a certain thread, combined with certain words, something would happen. I spoke to my colleagues about this, and in all their faces, except one, i saw confusion. One knew exactly what i was expressing. I decided to test it out. I simply thought of what i wanted. Instinctually I pulled on threads, combing them with words and gestures. Out of my hands roared a fireball, tearing off across the ice. Realization set in. Magic, the thing of books and fantasy was somehow real.\n\nOver time, we learned magic was something you could either do, or not. You couldn't learn it. There is no pattern, it is not hereditary. Simply a mystery. As is the strength of your magic. Some peak with a few spells. I am still learning new spells and gaining power. As with so many tools, magic was no exception, and could be used for good or evil. Before long there were black mages and white mages. The great mage war broke out. Millions died. Whole swaths of the earth wete warped and ruined. After a titanic struggle, we, the white mages, triumphed. We are still rebuilding and repopulating. Magic has become something to be feared. We have exiled ourselves, working quietly behind the scenes, disguising ourselves. In my youth, there was a line from a movie. With great power comes great responsibility. We have failed in this. I will make it right. Magic was locked up once. I will figure out how to lock it up again, or better yet destroy it. I was magic's rebirth. I will be its death.", "There are few humans alive today who know the truth, the entire* truth, of our history. \n\nIt was something we had not thought to question until last year. We had thought, until then, that what we knew about our origins was correct, that we were seeing the whole picture. But there is only uncertainty now. The picture, it seems, is much larger than we once thought. \n\nJake Berry was one of these few, and was very proud because of it. He was also a very sensible, logical man, who could solve even the most challenging of problems with ease, and most of the time, thought nothing of anything which could not be proven with science or evidence. It was whilst Jake was studying Archaeology at Oxford, however, that by chance he stumbled upon an old tale, which intrigued him in a way he could not explain. For years it ate at him, until finally word got round about a young girl, of whom he knew nothing else, who proved everything he had learned to be far more than a story. \n\n-\n\nThe excavation had been going on for weeks now. The whole world seemed to know about it, too- there was media coverage like no one in the industry had ever quite seen. Jake couldn’t blame them. Not for the entirety of this year had the news of what happened in England died down. It popped up in the news a few times a week: conspiracy theories… people wanting answers… lumbering blame onto the authorities, as if they were at fault. Jake sipped his coffee as he stared blankly out at the site. \n\nIt was damp and dreary; a downpour was the last thing they needed. The ground had become some gloopy mix of rock and water, which came up to people’s ankles as they waded through. By now, most of the ruins had been dug up. Jake imagined that once it had been a great temple, just like the one in Cambridge had been. It was speculated, too, that they had been built underground hundreds of years ago as ‘safe houses’, though for this, Jake had only his stories to look to. All of which he was certain for now was that these were built by their ancestors long ago, under the reign of a great warrior… \n\n‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ Jake jumped, startled by the voice, spraying an amount of coffee over himself and, in the process of turning to see where it had come from, knocking the rest of it on the floor. \n\n‘Oh, I’m sorry! I should’ve knocked-’\n\n‘No worries…’ he grumbled, looking at the girl. She couldn’t have been any older than seventeen, and had the most startlingly blue eyes he had ever seen, with brown hair reaching far below her shoulders and a near-perfectly rounded face. ‘So, journalist? Press? What are you?’\n\n‘No, it’s nothing like that,’ she said sounding somewhat amused, ‘I- I actually believe you may have heard of me. Here…’ they exchanged a rather uncomfortable moment of eye contact, before Jake realised after several seconds that he no longer felt hot coffee on his jeans. Stranger still, was that, as though a tape being played in reverse, the rest of it was rising up from the floor, and settling back into the mug like it had never moved. \n\n‘You’re-’\n\n‘Yeah, I’m her. My name is Rose. I believe you’re Jake Berry?’\n\nHe nodded. ‘But what… people thought you were-’\n\n‘-dead? I know. I made sure of that.’ The girl smiled. \n\n‘I knew you weren't. You were with Them, weren't you?’\n\n‘Yes.’ He paused, rubbing his face in thought. \n\n‘And all those times you disappeared as a kid… I assume you were with Them?’\n\n‘I've known of the other world since I was thirteen. Ever since I’ve known, yes, I’ve been living amongst Them.’ She sighed, and pulled what had been a concealed chain from around her neck, on the end of which was a pendant. A stone which matched her eyes. ‘Jumping between worlds is tiring, but when you’re like me, you don’t really have much of a choice, you know.’ \n\n‘Oh, I know.’ He muttered, staring at the pendant. ‘May I?’ \n\nShe moved closer, handed him the necklace without a word, and watched as he examined it. \n\nFifteen years of research into the mere existence of the Other World… and this girl was wearing its key around her neck like a fashion statement. And to think she had seen them… she had lived amongst them: the other people. The three races who had once been sent to earth to protect the three elements, to harness their power, to restore the land which had been destroyed by the beasts who prevailed before them. Even the elements had been taken by the humans. He looked at the girl. Here, standing before him, was the One of Water.\n\n‘Why are you here?’ \n\n‘Actually, Mr Berry,-’\n\n‘-call me Jake.’\n\n‘Jake, what you’re holding in your hand… that’s why I’m here.’ \n\n‘The stone? What about it?’\n\n‘Well, I assume you know that there are three of those stones- three keys to enter the Banished Realm.’ Again, he nodded. How could he not know? He had witnessed, like the rest of the world, what happened when the keys were combined. \n\n‘I know that. I also know that all three are with you in their world.’\n\n‘Good,’ she smiled, and then turned very serious. 'But I think you’re about to discover another.’ \n\n-\n\nThis prompt actually fits quite well with the plot of a novel I'm -attempting- to write, so I kind of used it to create a spin-off of my own story, which explains why it doesn't make an awful lot of sense yet! It was fun anyways, and I'll write the ending tomorrow. I'm too tired. :-)", "I felt something today at lunch. I was eating a bagel with some of my coworkers and it felt like the air got thin and almost organized after one of them got pissed off at another. They felt it too. It confused us all. It felt like before though.\n\n\n\n\nThere were about twenty-five of us at the binding all those years ago. We were so young. The nonsense we believed still sort of makes me smile. We were teenagers who thought we knew everything. All we really knew was how to retain memory after our reincarnation. \n\n\n\n\nThey were toddlers though, the rest of humanity. People played with fire, poison, and chaos like they were toys. I mean we did too but we lost so many friends in the processes. We learned painful and terrifying lessons. I just wanted to spare them that pain. \n\n\n\n\nThey just would not listen though, to any of us, so one night we used our power to bind humanity till they were ready. That was the hope. We knew we’d die after the ritual was complete. All of us had extended our lives beyond the natural limit and we really didn’t know if we’d remember anything when we came back. We worried who’d give humanity back this gift if it wasn’t us.\n\n\n\n\nIt’s like I said, nonsense. I still believe it was the right decision but our reason’s for doing it were awful. We thought of ourselves as so much more when we weren’t more than a few steps ahead. \n\n\n\n\nWe remembered though. It’s not like before though when at two years old I could remember everything I did since the beginning. Back then I had a perfect memory. It usually takes me into my twenties now before most things come back now.\n\n\n\n\nIt has been hard. I always think I’m possessed or nuts before everything settles. Sometimes I’m killed before I know to keep my mouth shut. If I make it though I always love learning. I work at universities wherever I’m born. I’m usually support staff though as the emotional disturbances I deal with don’t really allow for passionate or dedicated emersion into my studies.\n\n\n\n\nI felt it today though. Someone had found the cave that we hid the crystal in. I wondered for a second if our bodies were still there or if they had completely decomposed. Another shock came. Someone had exposed the crystal to fresh air. Was it one of us who was doing this? \n\n\n\n\nPeople were scared where I was. One lady was screaming about the end of the world and my coworkers were asking so many questions. The air got more charged as their will, their souls, demanded and craved order. I could feel it. Someone turned on the television and flipped to the news. It was happening everywhere. \n\n\n\n\nAt once, it looked like something had knocked the wind out of everyone. It was quiet then. People got up and looked around. They didn’t really say anything for a bit. I was still sitting upright. Nothing had happened to me.\n\n\n\n\n“What was that?” one of my coworkers asked. I came up with a test to make sure quicker than I thought I should have.\n\n\n\n\n“Bob knows,” I muttered. They all turned and looked at Bob searching for answers but in a moment, they turned back with a dumbfounded sort of look.\n\n\n\n\n“No he doesn’t,” they all said together. That confirmed it. They have power again.\n\n\n\n\nDid I? I looked my glass and let my mind fill it, churn it, push it, crush it, and finally obliterate it but nothing happened. Maybe this was the price of sealing away their power. Seemed far, I guess. What right did we have to start with? What would we do now with that sort of power? Maybe this was for the best. I mean I was usually on fire back then because I couldn’t deal with things. It hurt, a lot, all the time. \n\n\n\n\n“Balls of light” I heard come from the news. It was like someone whispered my name in a crowded hallway. I knew exactly what was going to happen. \n\n\n\n\nThe people around me though had just noticed I was different when I sat back and sighed. They had been blissfully experiencing communicating through telepathy, which isn’t an easy feat to be honest, when they realized I was very quiet. They couldn’t hear me. I could feel them probe but my mind is organized differently. They couldn’t understand it so they heard nothing.\n\n\n\n\n“Something’s coming!” someone screamed. I focused. I needed to be calm but there was turmoil inside me. I was scared, excited, and frustrated. I didn’t see anything hit me but I felt it. It was like everything fell, moved, or twisted into place. In a ripple outward I felt myself get healthy. I didn’t feel the fire I once did inside me. This one was clean, bright, and warm. It felt good. It felt right.\n\n\n\n\n“DIE! Demon!” \n\n\n\n\nEnd of the world lady had a revolver on her… ", "The teacher stopped mid-sentence. Everybody looked up, including me. Some seemed puzzled, others just as shocked as the teacher. I could feel it too, but I knew what was happening. Amongst those who felt it, there came a face of realization, and as the teacher started laughing I jumped from my seat and rushed back home.\n\nI must find a place alone.\n\nEmotions came tumbling in from all sides, intertwined yet distinguishable. Everyone became translucent and within our beings came wave after wave of multicolored light, or sound or vibrations, superimposed on our old senses. \n\nAs I walked down the street, my own pulsations were directed wherever my attention led me and I could see them from the corner of my eye, but I could not fully see what they were or where they were going. \n\nRunning now, I hear a scream of fright. Most people don't feel. They don't know what's going on. And most those who do are just as lost.\nI see a man stricken with horror, looking wildly around. His colors are fading as fast as the blood from his face.\n\nLittle by little he sends off negativity and I, having been concentrating on him, felt the black blow reach me at the speed of light. I contracted his black plague and fear sank into my heart like an ice dagger. As he screamed my ears rang dark. \n\nI ran faster, concentrating on my self-teachings. I could feel it. White light surrounded me and as I flew by faster than I ever have, people gazed at my cloud of light, each and everyone's spectrum responding in a positive way.\n\nI had been waiting for this age to begin. \n\nEdit : added \"a\"", "\"And there will come a day, where he shall come back onto this earth with fury and wrath, with vengeance and might, and STRIKE DOWN ALL THE HEATHENS, SINNERS, HOMOSEXUALS AND FORNICA-\"\n\nFor the first time in twenty years of preaching, Reverend Solomon Jacks had stopped mid sermon. His congregation still swaying to the churches music, lost in a mixture of yelling and praying, had not yet noticed his silence. \n\n\nThe Reverend stood still, mouth open, eyes wide. Completely, and absolutely immobilized. \n\n\"IN THE NAME OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST YOU WILL BE GONE DEMON!\"\n\nHis congregation lets out an echo of \"AMEN!\"\n\nBut he is relentless. He isn't preaching anymore. \n\n\"IN THE NAME OF THE-\"\n\nThe roar is deafening. A sound so strange, so strong that it soars through the room in an instant. Panic and terror spreads like wildfire. What once was hopeful prayer turns into a desperate plea for mercy.\n\nThe entire congregation is now on their knees, some daring enough that they manage to turn to look back at the door. \n\nAnd there, in plain sight, walking towards the stage; standing at nearly 8 feet tall is a living, \nbreathing, dragon.\n\nGot class but i can carry on later\n\n\n\n", "Multi-part story incoming. \n \nPart One: Magic and the Killer. \n \nDamien was a very patient person. When Harriet had left that morning, Damien found his way into the house with ease. She always left the back door unlocked, a fatal flaw for a woman so beautiful. As he took in his surroundings and memorized the layout of the house, he found himself stopping at each framed picture, consistently halted by the piercing stare of her blue eyes. It was as if she was physically there, staring into Damien's soul. \n \nAnd her smile was proof, he thought, that they belonged together. \n \nHer bedroom was scantily decorated. The white walls were bare of pictures and the bed coverings were spartan at best; plain white sheets and an equally white comforter. Everything save the black-painted wood nightstand was white. \n \nThat may be a problem later, Damien noted. \n \nHe opened the drawers of the nightstand to find a variety of items that brought some more light as to Harriet's life. A smutty novel was in the top drawer, too unbecoming for a girl like her. He picked it up with one of his gloved hands and felt the raised texture of the cover. Imagining her reading the novel late at night, Damien brought the book to his face and inhaled deeply. It smelled just as he expected her to smell. He replaced the book gingerly. A quick peruse of the drawer found nothing of note aside from that. \n \nThe lower drawer, on the other hand, had Damien raise an eyebrow. A solitary black whip lay there. This was unexpected and saddening. A weapon, no matter the purpose, would not prove conducive to his plans tonight. Damien grabbed the item and shoved it into the back of his jeans, covering the top portion with his hoodie. If I'm lucky, Damien thought, I'll be able to use this tonight. \n \nBack downstairs, the man walked into the dining room, barely used, and found the window he would be entering tonight. The first one was a bit difficult to open. The second glided smooth as silk. Damien made sure the window, tonight's entrance, was unlocked. He grinned in anticipation of the upcoming night's events and made his way back to the back door. \n \n\"See you tonight,\" he murmured, as he stepped out of the house. \n \n------------------------------------- \n \nHarriet pulled into her driveway at 5:43PM, right on schedule. \n \nDamien had already situated himself in one of the side bushes, one that was in eyesight range of a veiled window overlooking the kitchen and living room. \n \nHis partially obstructed view yielded him a silhouetted view of the woman placing her purse on the kitchen counter and removing her blazer. The form of her body in a fitted button-up and slacks caused Damien's breathing to increase, but ceased when she disappeared from view. Roughly an hour later, she reappeared in a loose-fitting t-shirt and pajama pants, making a beeline towards the refrigerator. She opened the freezer door, obstructing Damien's view. This was very quick however, and when the door closed Harriet had a pint of ice cream in her hand. She grabbed a spoon from the dishwasher and made her way to the living room. A bright rectangle of fuzzy light along with the muffled sounds of commercials alerted Damien that it was time to strike. \n \nCrouched, Damien silently made his way to the window from earlier that day. Fingers gloved, he pried the screen off and gently placed it under a bush behind him. Slowly and carefully, Damien pushed the window upward and open. One sock-clad foot after the other, he entered the darkened dining room. Stalking from the dining room to the kitchen, he positioned himself behind the kitchen counter and peeked over. The TV was displaying some show with a man wearing dark green leather and a hood with a bow and arrow. The action was frenetic and the sound was sufficiently violent. \n \nDamien grabbed the black cloth from his back pocket and twisted it into a thick rope. As he did this, he moved away from the counter and towards the couch where Harriet sat. \n \n\"Why can't you be mine, Oliver Queen?\" she said aloud, the clinking of a spoon on wood barely audible as a commercial break began. \n \nNow. Now I strike, he thought. \n \nWith a quick motion, Damien stood up and took his makeshift rope across her neck, both choking and dragging her off the couch. The woman gasped and attempted to call out, but choked words were the only sound made. \n \n\"Here now, Harriet,\" Damien whispered. \"Calm down. It's only me.\" \n \nShe was lying back-down on the floor at this point, and he stuffed the cloth into her mouth with a hand covering the stuffed orifice. \n \n\"We're going to have lots of fun tonight, aren't we?\" Damien reached into his front pocket and pulled out some masking tape, which he deftly dragged along the bottom of her head, securing the cloth in her mouth. Her eyes, tearing up, stared up at him, trying to recognize who he was. \n \nIt was futile, he knew. She had never seen him before in her life. He took pride in his hobby. \n \nHer flailing limbs were the next to be tied up. Arms firmly wrapped in tape, Damien began the real fun. With one hand holding her struggling legs in place, the other began pulling down her pajamas. Eyes suddenly wide with fear, Harriet reached out with her tied hands and sounded a muffled cry through the cloth and tape. \n \nDamien was launched violently back, colliding with and denting the back door with his back and head. \n \n\"Fuck!\" yelled Damien, a great deal louder than the television in the background. Harriet, attempting to get back on her feet, looked as confused as he did. Abandoning hope of being able to stand, she started pushing herself towards the front door. \n \nBack on HIS feet, Damien shook his head as his eyes went dark with rage. \"Oh no you don't, dearie.\" He reached behind him and pulled out the whip he had taken from Harriet's nightstand earlier. \n \n\"You're not getting away THAT easy.\" He closed in on her and with a crack, she had ceased moving, attempting to moan in pain through the obstructing cloth. Another couple of whips silenced her completely, her body jerking to the pain and shaking with silent sobs. \n \n\"I don't know how you did that,\" he said. \"And by the looks on you, you don't know either. I'll find out later.\" Whip still in hand, Damien shot a glance down at the woman's damaged body. \n \n\"Wish I could say the same for you,\" the man murmured as he descended upon her. \n \nTo be continued." ]	12
	[WP] A man has the ability to eradicate events from history simply by writing about them.	[ "I went home after work like any other day. It had been such a very long time since I was last happy. I don't think I'm depressed, but maybe that's just the medications talking. I'll have to eat dinner, I suppose.\n\nAfter making myself two plain chicken breasts, I sit down at my computer and remember an old notebook from my childhood. A couple pages had only a little bit of writing on them, and the book was far from filled.\n\nThe first page was scribbled by the hands of a child. \n\n\"Today, October 17, 1983, my father did not return from work. Mother says he left, and I believe her.\"\n\nThe second even sillier.\n\n\"Today, May 17, 1989, Kyle from school killed himself. I miss Kyle, he was a good friend.\"\n\nThe third was blank. A new slate, I suppose. I wonder if writing about the past works too.\n\n\"On June 17, 2013, I married Taryn Mohn.\"\n\nThe pictures I kept on my bedside table were still there. They didn't disappear, just sat mocking me.\n\nCome to think of it, Kyle has been dead for many years now. I never did know my father growing up.\n\nI guess this book is nothing but a childish outlet for my emotions.", "And when those two collided, it was kismet; they knew they were meant to be. They leaned in to kiss each other as was expected. They made love later that night as was expected. When she became pregnant, he married her. When they had been married three weeks, she fell. They had the funeral for the tiny coffin a week later.\n\nAnd poof, I was gone.", "I walked out of the classroom, holding in my mind the knowledge that I had failed Political Science. I hadn't studied. I hadn't prepared. I had done nothing. I just went in, scribbled a ton of answers down and left. My heart was relaxed and a smile was on my face. I went down and bought a mocha from the coffee shop and sat down. Grabbing a pencil from my pocket and my notebook from my backpack, I sat there and wrote down on the page:\n\n\"I had entered the classroom wonderfully prepared. The test was no real challenge and I had scored a 83% on the exam.\"\n\nAfter putting the period at the end, I waited. \n\nTime began to tick and before I realized it, it had become noon. I went online and checked my grade on the final exam. \n\n83%. Just the way I liked it. I could have given myself a higher score, sure, but I had learned to be careful. \n\nSee, the thing is I wasn't the only one who had the ability. There were so many others. One kid, in that same class, had that power and he brandished it like it was nothing. One day, he stopped coming to class. Then I found out his name wasn't on the roster. Then I found out he didn't exist. \n\nSomeone, somewhere, something made that kid just...not exist. It was a message to all other owners of this power: Brandish it, glorify it, reveal it and you'll lose more than it.\n\nNo one knew who had these powers. I had to be more cautious when using it. \n\nPlus, 83% was enough to pass. So it was fine. I left the shop and continued on my way, watching carefully the world around me.", "As Bruce opened the mysterious book, he felt accomplished. He had gone on a wacky adventure to obtain this artifact. After decades of studying, solving contraptions and escaping dungeons, he pieced together the purpose of this book. It translated as \"Erase the Past\".\n\nHe knew what he wanted to write. He would to erase the deaths of his parents. It was a trauma he had to bear all his life. He could still smell the lingering gunpowder in the air from that day in the alleyway. The man was simply supposed to rob them but instead took out the gun and there was a bang. Next thing Bruce knew was that his parents were dead. The event had transformed his life forever.\n\nHe started writing. “It started with a big bang.” \n\nThe book suddenly activated and started glowing. The building started shaking more and more violently until….\n\nThere was nothing.\n" ]	4
	[WP]You go in complaining of a simple ache in your chest. The doctor wakes you up after an emergency medical procedure, you're surrounded by scientists and called. "The only one of your kind."	[ "The doors in the medical center opened as I began clutching my chest because of this unbearable pain. \"Hello, there! Welcome to the center, what do you need?\" A cheery clerk asked. Without hesitation, I simply said \"I have chest pain going on for around a few days now, it's become unbearable.\" And that's all I remembered from two weeks ago, or so the doctors told me.\n\n Right now, though, I was in my recovery bed, obviously bewildered, with several scientists in hazmat suits surrounding me, all with wide eyes, and the expression that describes nothing but shock and awe. Then, one doctor approached me with caution. What he said next changed my life forever. With slow and cautious words, he said, \"Mr. Daniel Skorenstien, you are the first, and only one of your kind.\"\n", "I dragged myself awake to the sound of voices.\n\n\"Are the contractions over?\"\n\n\"Yes, doctor. The patients condition has stabilized. Blood flow is interesting, to say the least, but it conforms to the patients measured average.\"\n\n\"What's our average based on?\"\n\n\"Six months of monitoring, doctor. Constant.\"\n\nSix months? \n\n\"Understand, please, that I find it hard to believe.\"\n\n\"I do, sir. The contractions were, from the patients own testimony, present from around May 2014 to now.\"\n\n\"Amazing. This changes everything, you know. Everything.\" \n\n\"I'm aware, sir.\"\n\nMay? I started hurting in May...it was sudden. I was on my couch, eating chips and watching reruns of Dancing with the Stars, when my chest burst out in pain.\n\nI groggily opened my eyes. I could see perfectly. And oddly enough, I could see the whole room from my spot on the operating table...\nNormally, I can barely see further than my arm...oh my god. \n\nWhere the hell are my---\n\n\"Doctor!\" A woman burst into the room, a nurse. \"She's lucid!\" \nThe doctor froze, horrified. The other man, wearing a suit, showed less emotion, but backed up a step. He smelled afraid. \n\nHe smelled afraid? I tried to stand. \n\n\"I need tranquilizers, nurse!\"\n\nWhy, for me? I grabbed the doctor. I just had to ask him what was wrong. His pupils were dilated. He had wet himself. I asked him why he was scared. \n\n\"You...we didn't think you...you're the first...the only...\" he trailed off. Fine, I thought. I'll ask myself. The doctor went slack.\n\n\"You, in the suit,\" I asked, though the doctor spoke. \"Why are you frightened?\"\n\n\"Ma'am, your appearance is...unusual.\" The suit had seemed to slacken, too. \n\n\nI hummed. \"Nurse, get me a mirror,\" the suit and doctor ordered in unison. \n" ]	2
	[WP]You're part way through a course when you realise that it's for aspiring supervillains.	[ "Necessary Economics 101, Tech building in room B02. The class was a cold windowless room in the basement. A couple of other students sat in the back with one or two at the front. David took his seat on the right hand side in the third row. \n\nA red-haired girl sat a few seats over to his left. With any luck, David thought, I'll get to know her over the semester. She was dressed in pajama bottoms and a baggy hoodie. A really baggy hoodie. Way to big for her, he thought. Is it her boyfriends? \n\nThe professor walked into the room carrying a suitcase, which he dropped with a thump on his desk. \"Hello class I'm Doctor Hado. You're all adults so if I have to explain how a class works you can leave now.\" After a moment of silence the professor continued. \"You're lesson begins now, with a question. Slave traders would bring cargo from Africa to the US and sell all the slaves that survived the trip, for what they could. The traders didn't pack enough extra food for the slaves. Many would die on the voyage to America. So my question is this. Why didn't they protect their investment?\" \n\nThe class was quiet, the professor looked over them expectantly. A girl in the third row spoke up. \"They were racist, they just didn't care.\" The professor grimaced \"No, anyone else?\" A student in the back responded \"it weeded out the weak slaves, and only left the strongest specimens.\" The professor looked upset now \"Wrong again\". \n\nDavid rose his hand and the professor looked at him. \"because it would be cheaper for a few slaves to die than feed everyone properly.\" The professor raised his hand and pointed at David \"That's the kind of thinking I want to see out of each and everyone of you. Forget about your beliefs and preconceived notions about the world. I want you to forget emotion. This is Necessary Economics 101. We make the decisions that the capes could never even understand. \"", "I guess I should have taken more notice when I saw the module entitled “Death Ray: Effective Weapon or Superhero Bringer?” But what do I know about modern business courses? Nothing, apparently.\nNow that I come to think of it, the lecturer, a Professor Ernie Vile, was a little eccentric. He once showed us five effective ways to get out of a super-strong headlock. I did wonder just what I was getting myself into then. How irate could customers get? I only wanted to start a small photography business. Also, I would like to make it absolutely clear that I never went in there to become a supervillain. I honestly believed it was a business course right up until the League of Heroes burst through the door with their sting operation.\n\nI remember once we were asked to take in something in that would be a symbol of our trade. The Captain, he’s the one with the cape, brought in a sort of gun to which he’d attached pipes filled with a blue liquid. He said it didn’t work yet, but that it would truly revolutionise the world. I thought that was a little over the top. I mean, paintball is fun, but it’s hardly revolutionary.\n\nSomeone else brought in a crystal of some sort. It was kind of iridescent and emitted a faint humming noise. A bedside light designed to lull children to sleep, maybe? He wouldn’t say where he got it, just that it was some sort of meteor remnant. He had a friend he always brought with him who carried everything for him and gave out stern looks if someone ever tried to contradict him. He had apparently been a loyal employee of Czar Dee Struction for years. What kind of parents name their kid Czar, anyway? Hippies, obviously. That also explained the fascination with crystals.\n\nFor my part, I took in a camera because… Well, what else symbolises photography better than a camera? I remember when it was my turn to show it and everyone asked me, rather enthusiastically, what it did. Took pictures, I explained.\nThis was met with some confusion. Did it evaporate people, Anne Archy asked. No, I explained. It was a camera. Did it hypnotise? I laughed. People did tend to become mesmerised when you were snapping photos of city buildings, yes.\nThis seemed to satisfy them and afterwards I had a rather bizarre conversation with a hunched up man who suggested that a bright enough flash could be used to blind people.\n\nIt was about six months later, and the professor had asked to see our progress with our various projects. I had brought in my camera, as usual, and a portfolio I had been working on. The hunched man came over and excitedly handed me a handheld flash. The captain had added some reservoirs to his gun for the strange water, and he said it presently only worked at short range, but he expected to have a fully working version in a few weeks.\nCzar had placed the crystal in a kind of metal box with a crude convex dish cut into one side. It reminded me of a square death star. He said that the dish amplified the effect of the crystal. I remember rolling my eyes at it.\n\nJust then, the door burst open and in jumped eight costumed men, in my shock I triggered the flash, and four of them dropped to their knees clutching at their eyes. One of them, The Gavel, or something, jumped over to me and got me in a headlock. The man was incredibly strong, and so I used number three of the five effective ways to get out of a super-strong headlock. He tumbled to the floor and Czar pressed a button on his box. A ray of blue light shone out and knocked down Gavel and Mr. Truth. I saw then that the Captain, was having trouble with the guy in the pink leotard, and had dropped his paintball gun. I grabbed it with the intension of shooting him in the eyes, those paintballs could do some serious damage when up close, but instead the liquid streamed out and pink-leotard man just kind of… disintegrated. That was an utter shock, and probably about the time I realised this wasn’t a common old garden business course.\n\nThe Victor, or Victorator, whatever his name was, it should have been The Vacator because he just jumped out through the ceiling and we never saw him again.\n\nAnd that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I am speaking to you as Supreme Evil Leader of The World.\nPlease, remain calm and collected during the transitional period. Or don’t, I don’t care either way. But riots, protests or any kind of dissent will be met with the most swift and brutal action.\n" ]	2
	[WP] Humanity has unlocked immortality, but it's not what they expected. As a result the practice is banned	[ "This prompt reminds me of a short story by Peruvian author José Adolph, titled \"Nosotros, No,\" or us, no (not us, perhaps?) Anywho, [here's](http://hispanicexplorer.tripod.com/nosotros_no.htm) the original version en Espaol, and [here's](http://www.scribd.com/doc/201078807/Nosotros-no-English-Translation) a translated version. \n\nIn this story, the only people who can receive the immortality shot are youth who haven't fully developed, meaning that the entire immortal community will never grow old. Well worth 2 minutes.", "Extract from the journal of director of Military Intelligence Section 7, Lord Michael Rothermere, United Monarchy of Great Britain: \n\n22/06/2200 A.D. \n\nMy line of work requires logic more than morality. It requires a willingness to sacrifice, for that is what has gotten us through. I often remind myself of the horrors of the Third Great War one hundred and fifty years ago, when the fossil fuel crises hit the world. They were desparate times, and the Crown answered it's call of duty under secret order 1066. An executive body that made the decisions that had to be made, without delay. Many lives were lost, many freedoms sacrificed - but were it not for that then I would not be breathing. \n\nMI7 was set up during the beginning of the Third Great War as an acknowledgement to the fact that technology is what wins wars then, and now. And I have served in my post to the fullest of my ability. I worked with the best men and women from the United Monarchy and it's neo-Colonies, and I have seen some incredible things, many of which I have written about in this journal. But what I will write now has been so classified that no other official records exist. \n\nI am writing about Project Lazarus. \n\nThis project was the culmination of MI7's research into the human genome. Many experiments of genetic manipulation were carried out in order to produce \"super soldiers\" - advanced human beings who were faster, stronger, more intelligent and superior in every way. Of course, every experiment had it's...ramifications, but with these tragic mistakes came greater and greater understanding. \n\nThat is when the head of MI7's human genome project, doctor Evan McMillan, revealed to me a dark secret. Even before the establishment of MI7 and the Third Great War, just before the beginning of the Millenia even, the United Monarchy, then the United Kingdom, had authorized certain experiments. These were apparently so secret, that only certain officials and those within the project were informed - even I, and all the directors of MI7 before me, were kept in the dark. The department of Human Genome Research within MI7 had been something else entirely then, and it was then that they had already unlocked the secret to immortality. \n\nA serum that was injected in small amounts all over the body, once every fifty years, gave the recepient eternal life. Immortality. He revealed this to me several months ago under direct orders of His Majesty, King Daniel. \n\nSubject 0 was the experiment. A man who was apparently more than two hundred and thirty years old, but looked and preformed just the same as when he started treatment. It was then that I demanded to see for myself this subject 0, and what I encountered still haunts me. \n\nThe encounter with subject 0 of Project Lazarus \n\nDeep within the bowels of the MI7 building in London, our very own capital and under my nose, lived subject 0. As Doctor McMillan guided me, I saw the sweat form on his brow, the trembling in his hands as he swiped his card through several doors. Rooms and passageways that I never even knew existed, and the more I discovered the angrier I got for being kept in the dark. \n\n\"Please understand your Excellency, I had to obey the orders of the King - \"\n\n\"I know. Shut up.\" \n\nThese were the only exchange of words. \n\nFinally, behind a heavy steel door is where I met the subject. Two armed guards joined me, and when I looked at the Doctor he pleaded that I not send them away. After seeing the fear in his eyes I almost thought of sending him in there alone, but relented. \n\nThe cell was not bad. It was more of an apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, living area, toilet. And a nice apartment it would have been if not for all the pieces of paper lying around, paper filled with writing, the writing of someone frantic and in a hurry. The guards immediately raised their guns and went to the bedroom. We'd looked at the camera feed, and we found him just like we saw him through that screen, huddled and shaking. \n\n\"So what's the matter with the two hundred and thirty year old man?\" \n\nAs soon as I spoke, his face turned towards mine. His eyes were not simply full of life, but a burning fire - constantly wide, unblinking. The eyes of someone gone mad. He whimpered a little but did nothing as the guards trained their guns at him. Doctor McMillan's voice was a stammering mess - \n\n\"W-well, your excellency. The, er, um, the serum which I told you of. Remember it was to be injected all over the body. That included parts of the brain. It's why our friend here is shaved bald. Kind of makes it easier you-you know - \"\n\n\"Get to the bloody point McMillan\" \n\n\"Right, yes. The serum has had adverse effects on his brain function. At this moment in time, subject 0 is reliving and experiencing all the memories he ever had at, and with every second that passes by more and more is added to his memory. Every tremor his body makes, every whimper he utters, every movement of air he feels on the back of his neck - he is permanently reliving all of it simultaneously. A life time's worth of memories is manageable...with the help of certain drugs. But several life times' worth? Not so much.\" \n\n\"And the paper? The writing?\" \n\n\"From our records, subject 0 was a writer before he, er, volunteered for project Lazarus. We think that he tried writing down his experiences as a way to get them out of his brain. Obviously, that didn't -\" \n\n\"MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE MAKE IT FUCKING STOP!\" \n\nSubject 0 clawed at his own head, drawing blood as he started sobbing unctrollably. The guards jumped into action like they were rehearsing an exercise. One held him down, and the other injected him with a sedative. The struggles slackened until he calmed down once again.\n\nMcMillan had a look of shame and guilt that was unprecedented. He talked now in a low, hoarse whisper, \n\n\"We have to do this approximately every two hours or so. He never sleeps naturally, only when his brain is so exhausted that he loses consciousness for several hours.\" \n\nA chuckle escaped his throat as his eyes looked into the distance, reminscing, \n\n\"He even remembers being in his mother's womb.\" \n\nA silence descended on us, save for the ocassional whimper from subject 0 as he tossed and turned in bed. The several minutes seemed an hour before I spoke again, \n\n\"Why has the King ordered you to reveal this to me now?\" \n\n\"Your Excellency. We have been trying to solve the problem of this reaction, but for the two hundred years of our work we were unable to do anything. As present director of MI7, the King wants you to make the decision as to what to do with him.\" \n\nI have written about the sacrifices of humanity and freedom that we have endured. But what I saw then was a perversion of our aims. A man who was immortal but reduced to madness, is like a man of strength but of no bravery. The Third Great war occured because of our greed, and the greed to live eternally, apart from being blasphemous to our Lord and Saviour, is the greatest greed of all - a remnant of our shameful consumerism of the past. \n\nIt was then that I made the decision and watched the consequences of it as the guards executed him in his own bed. One shot to the head to end more than two hundred years of suffering. A suffering that he had to endure because McMillan, and those in the Human Genome department before him, were not willing to let go. They saw a potential miracle of course, but all I could see was a horror. \n\nAnd to his shock, I saluted the corpse that lay in it's bed before ordering a proper burial. \n\nAll official records of Project Lazarus have been destroyed. Not a trace remains save for this testament in my journal. Let this be a warning to others that, despite our advances and the sacrifices we are willing to make, there are lines we simply cannot cross. \n\n ", "The meeting at the corporate headquarters began as any other--minutes of the previous gathering, followed by the standard, \"Hello everybody\" from the CEO. From there, however, it was only downward spiral. \n\n\"Alright,\" the CEO said, \"Mrs. Cavendish, can you repeat what you said in that memo you sent me to the entire board of directors.\" \n\n\"Ms. Cavendish,\" Cindy responded confidently as her hands rested calmly on the faux leather placemat. \"While our initial results are inconclusive, the human trials of PTX 417 repeat the results we had received during animal testing: in a little over 50% of subjects, tissue throughout our subjects' bodies no longer degrade as in standard people, major organs have a significantly lower propensity to fail, and, most notably, PTX 417 seems to have slowed the natural process of DNA degrading and mutating such that changes to our DNA during cell division very rarely occur.\"\n\n\"In other words,\" her co-researcher Paul cut in, \"we have discovered immortality.\" Paul sat back in his chair with a smug sense of satisfaction as he admired the holes left where the other men's lips used to be. \n\nAs Cindy shot Paul an irritated glance, the CEO stood up to take command of the room, \"I know that Mrs. --\" \n\n\"Ms.\"\n\n\"Ms. Cavendish does not want to hype up her lab's findings, but this is a huge deal, not only for the hospital, but for our whole society! If, when we expand the trial, the results are consistent, this will be a milestone in human history. Just think! We could live for centuries!\" \n\nCindy sighed, and reluctantly said, \"Part of the reason I didn't want to hype this up is because, after the blind results came back, I looked at any correlations between success and race, medical history, and so on.\" It was Paul's turn to shoot Cindy a look. \"I know, it's premature to make any assumptions, but I found that the only successful cases were in women. No men showed the signs I mentioned earlier.\" \n\nThe CEO glanced nervously at the board members, who now seemed restless. \"None? Not even one? That means...my god. What are we going to do?\"\n\nPaul interjected, \"I think you're getting ahead of yourself. This was only a sample size of 100 people. The next step would be to have a size of a few thousand. Only then will you get more conclusive results.\" \n\nThe CEO, however seemed to be in a daze, and the board was following the CEO's train of thought, ignoring Paul. The CEO sat down, repeating, \"What are we going to do?\"\n\nCindy, fingers now tapping apprehensively against the wood table, said, \"We present our findings to the USDA and move on to the next trial period. What else is there to this?\"\n\nThe CEO now looked expectantly around the room, avoiding Paul's and Cindy's incredulous stares. \"What are we going to do?\" Fire flashed across his eyes. \"What are we going to do?\" He was now standing, hovering over his placemat, shoulders hunched. \"What are we going to do‽\" Two droplets of sweat came off of his nose and chin. Frightened, Paul and Cindy stood up and began inching toward the door, never taking their eyes off their crazed leader. The CEO now whipped his head and glared directly at Cindy and Paul.\n\n\"What are we going to do‽\"\n\nThe board members sitting left of Cindy and right of Paul stood up so fast their chairs slid backwards a few feet, and jumped on Cindy. She screamed and thrashed as three more men held her down. Paul reached for a chair to try to beat the crazed men off of his coworker, but a sixth board member incapacitated Paul by kicking him the groin. \n\n\"What are we going to do?\" the CEO said softly, stepping slowly and meticulously toward Cindy, without taking their eyes from her. \n\nCindy screamed once more, but was drowned out by the fire alarm. She now realized that she is alone: her floor would have cleared by now. She had a 200 pound man on every limb, and a knee on either hip. Paul got up again, only to be kicked once more to the ground. Cindy looked toward the CEO, and begged, \"I can keep this a secret. I'll never tell anybody. Never. Women will continue living just as long as men. We won't do further testing.\" Paul was kicked again. \"This can't go on!\" \n\nShe looked directly into her eyes, and saw neither mercy nor kindness, neither empathy nor sympathy. She only saw utter disdain. Cindy knew then that there was no hope for either of them. \n\n\"What are we going to do?\" the CEO whispered for a final time before a board member hit her to the ground.", "Every child wants to be immortal. I mean living forever wouldn't that be cool? No. I thought the same when I was younger, 3,000 years ago. Truth is immortality is torture. The cruelest thing the gods could think of. Watching the world go by, all my loved ones growing old and dying, everything you loved about this world torn from your hands. Each century I get a little comfier then I get destroyed, every, goddamn time. \n\nI was there when Genghis Kahn raped and pillaged innocent children and women. I was there during the Holocaust, my wife was jewish. They forced me to watch as 14 men shot her to bits in the street. I was in WW1 and 2. I made friends with the comrades by my side. Only to watch them die. There isn't many pros to being immortal, just a long fucking list of cons. Well I guess getting punched in the face by Abraham Lincoln is pretty cool. \n\nI've been forced to watch the world's many tragedies over and over. Thousands of innocent people dying. \n\nI shall do the same for the rest of time. Unless Hades decides to lift the banishment from his realms.", "It started out great. we could not die. It started with a few wealthy people being the first to use it but then started filtering out to the masses. An end to sickness and death. It sounded like paradise. Then the economics of a world without death started to sink in.\n\nThe unemployment rate started to skyrocket. If no one died, no one ever retired. In fact no one could retire because those that did would never have enough money to last and the ones that did taxed the social secruity program till it broke. The health care system also had massive layoffs. massive layoffs of funeral homes. \n\nIt was decided that the process of immortality had to be controlled. It was too powerful to let anyone use it. You had to show a pressing common good for the world to extend your life eternal. This did slowly start to normalize everything but it created another problem.\n\nThe gap between rich and poor became the gap between immortals and non-immortals. immortality did tend to give a person a long time to amass a large empire. Soon there was a war. A bloody war between the Immortals who amassed powers over centuries and the common man who could not afford or be gifted with the power of the immortal. ", "When it began, I was called Genius. I changed the face of science, laughed at death, and ushered in the era of the superman.\n\nI was called Leader. My favored few were picked from the multitudes of man, and together we challenged any and all who would seek to do harm. \n\nWe were called Hero. We fought wickedness, cruelty, hunger, servitude, ensuring every man would live a full life, their lives being finite.\n\nWe were called Gods. The small people of this world clamored at our feet, praying for the gift to be bestowed upon them, feigning great feats in hopes of proving \"worthy.\"\n\nWe were called Selfish. The masses made demands of us that we were not prepared to answer, and so we gave them nought but silence. They pleaded. They begged. They screamed. Their bombs went off and dust filled the air they struggled to breathe. They gasped. We stayed silent.\n\nWe are called Nothing. The Few have known the names that lie littered in our wake. We have no need for them now. We shall have no need for them ever again, for we are We, and nothing more is relevant. We are We, We are The Few, and this broken world was left to us.", "113 years ago today, humanity stopped aging. The Serum gave everlasting life - mass produced, sold on corner-store counter-tops, it spread as a time-halting pandemic across the developed world. Initially, it was wildly embraced. Husbands and wives went Immo together. Families held reunions and went Immo en masse. Creative folks held funerals for their mortality, or final birthday parties to freeze themselves precisely at a certain age. The planet at large hailed the Serum as nothing short of miraculous.\n\nSure there were problems. Children too young going Immo was a disaster. An eternity of spit-up and diapers for unwitting parents. Those too old, whose bodies had already partly failed them, faced the ages with dysfunctional systems. Inmates across the world railed to be permitted to take the Serum and riots erupted in prisons when they were denied.\n\nAnd of course, we were told it was safe. Entirely harmless. Except no one had done long-term testing. How could they, when the very term was redefined with the invention of the Serum?\n\nThe governments banned it, of course. Supposedly all stock held has been destroyed. But the damage is done. From the moment you take it, your body stops aging, stops changing. No one took into account that women need to change to have children. And now we can't. Which, alone might be a surmountable issue, but combined with the Side Effect, well, it's no wonder we're dying out. You see, exactly 100 years, to the second, after someone takes The Serum, they die. And no one knows why.", "Disclaimer: New to Reddit. If I'm doing something wrong I apologize.\n\nEver since the New Russian Empire lost the war, we've kept a slew of their top officers in our prisons. Our... interrogations... have been fruitless. We still don't know how their soldiers were so superhuman. Machine gun fire to the head and chest didn't stop them. Grenades didn't stop them. Beheading them didn't stop them. No matter how much their bodies were dismembered, they always had full control of every one of their muscles. So long as they had as much as a hand left in one piece they still tried to fire their guns. Even the ones we've ground into piles of meat still show control over their remnants despite no longer having a brain; the mounds of shredded flesh moving, as if still trying to fight us.\nWe have not witnessed a single Russian soldier in the war talk, laugh, cry, smile, or show any form of emotion. We fear that in addition to being an immensely unnatural procedure, it also causes severe psychological and physical pain, assuming they can still even feel pain of any sort.\nThis has proved disastrous to the UN. We use the term ‘immortality’ when discussing it, but we aren't even sure if that’s what it is. Are they even alive? We've declared immortality illegal under international law, but we have no way of enforcing it. We don’t know how it’s done. We don’t know if it’s reproducible or practical. We don’t know how to stop it. We don’t know anything.\n\n\n\nAny feedback would be appreciated!" ]	8
	[WP] Origami is the world's #1 action sport, commentate the world championship match	[ "\"Well, Gary, I think that was no denying the drama in that match, but ultimately Felton was the finer folder, don't you agree?\"\n\n\"I'd have to have \"yes and no\", Dave. Sedaris has proved himself to be a master wizard with the paper before, and I would have to say that his technical skill outmatches Felton's. But when you commit to spending the whole match time on one big piece, it's an all-or-nothing gamble. A one-paper multi-level London skyline was clearly going to be impressive, but if run out of time before your folding, then you just have to hope the judges appreciate your working out. And as you could see here, he knew the pressure was building on him and that make it harder to keep the focus. Not so much because Felton was knocking out piece after piece after piece, but because the crowd was cheering him on for it. Big folding projects in your own space or a local crowd are totally different from doing them in a League match, and it's hard to know how different it is. I didn't, the first time, and I almost lost it completely.\"\n\n\"Do think that it's better to be workmanlike than artistic?\"\n\n\"That sounds unfair to both of them, really, but the most important thing is to have something to present when the match is over that isn't half of a work in progress. I think that Felton's menagerie might have been a bit less imaginative, but with every paper animal, he was delivering again and again. A good show for the crowd and the judges and a good tableau at the end. Felton has that balance. Sederis is way better at the artistry, but that only gets you so far. You have to have the performance, and you have to know that you have a plan that will take you the allotted time, and then you step back and you have something that is ready to display. Sedaris had a big plan, but it was too big, and all one piece. If he'd finished it, I reckon he'd have have a definite win. Felton had a plan that wasn't so ambitious, but he paced himself well and if he'd been caught out three-quarters done, he'd still have had plenty that was ready for the judges.\"\n\n\"Okay. We'll get the contestent's views on the match in a moment, but first, Gary, where do you think they will go from here?\"\n\n\"Obviously, the next thing for Felton is the final, and I should think he'll be getting called up for the Premier League, and he's certainly a good chance of being called up for the England team. It's a shift to go from solo origami to team projects, but he looks like a good prospect. Sederis goes to the play-offs, but I can't see why he wouldn't be here next year.\"\n\n\"Thank you. Now over to John...\"", "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, kids and adults of all ages, have we got a show for you tonight. It is a beautiful day for a WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP here in Wrigley Stadium, Chicago, Illinois!\n\nThe crows goes wild\n\nWatch as these true Masters of Paper flip, fold, crease and crumple their way to victory!\n\nIn the red corner, representing the Soviet Union, weighing in at a whopping one hundred and eighty-four pounds, measuring five whole feet and three inches and having over nine thousand local, regional and national level championships under her belt, it's the proud supporter of the Red Flag, the Commie Cossack, the Bombshell from Братск, VODKA DRUNKESKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!\n\nPro-Communism chants from the audience\n\nAnd here in the blue corner, the defending world champ, representing the good 'ol US of A, weighing in at about two hundred pounds, measuring six feet and one inch, and with his superhuman-like TEN INCH INDEX FINGER...\n\nU S A! U S A! U S A! U S A!\n\nThe Patriotic Patriarch, the Pride of Baltimore, the Folding Farmer Flying the Flag, KENNY \"THE FINGER\" EEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGLLEEE\n\nA man dressed completely in red, white and blue sings the National Anthem, complete with fireworks, followed by the anthem of the Soviet Union as a giant poster of Stalin is raised in the background. The contestants take their places and awkwardly shake hands around Kenny's monster-finger.\n\nThis is gonna be one for the record book, folks. The greatest rivalry in history all boils down to this one event. Who will come out on top?\n\nThe ref gives the thumbs up\n\nAND NOW, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, LET'S GET READY TO FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLDD!!!!", "McDribbles: \"Live, from Madison Square Garden, it's the World Origami Cup! I'm your host, McDribbles, along with our star commentators Kim, and Gary.\"\n\nKim: \"Thank you McDribbles, we're all excited to be here!\"\n\nGary: \"That's right, Kim. Today we have our finalists, Mr. Ori Gami- representing the clear favourites Japan, and Mr. Mummi Fied- representing Egypt.\"\n\nKim: \"You know, Gary, I'm excited to see Japan back on the finals, especially after their previous upset in the last championship by Canada. Can they bring back the coveted trophy back home?\"\n\nGary: \"I'm not too sure, Kim. Egypt has been a solid contender this year, sort of a dark horse, really. With both teams having their Ace Folder out on the field, this is anyone's game.\"\n\nMcDribbles: \"Get ready folks, it's the battle between the greats! Japan, may have invented the sport of Origami, but Egypt invented the paper itself. Which of these two titans will take home the glory? Find out after these few words from our sponsors.\"\n\n=Commercial Break=\n\nMitch: \"Hi, I'm Mitch- The Glove- Love, two time world origami champion, here to tell you about the Flapper Fold, your only origami folding gloves, proven to last until your very last fold. Wonder how I stay in such great shape and have such great precision? Thanks to the nano-fold technology, Flapper Fold Gloves give you the very best in bending the competition! Just three payments of $78.99 plus shipping and handling, and these gloves can be yours- today! But Wait! If you call within the next 15 minutes, we will DOUBLE your order! Why wait, call today!\"\n\n=Commercial break ends=\n\nMcDribbles: \"AAAANNNNDD We're back! the match is about to start, and the players have received their papers, with Japan on the left, and Egypt on the right.\"\n\n=DING DING DING!=\n\nKim: \"Oh! and a fantastic start for both teams!\"\n\nGary: \"Wow look at the speed of Egypt's Ace, Mummi! He's already on his second stage, with two quick right angle folds, to perfect precision!\"\n\nKim: \"You're right, Gary, his angular tactics are indeed impressive, but check out Japan, Ori is taking a rather unusual route, his folds decreasing in size than the last...\"\n\nGary: \"Oh I don't know, Kim, that sure is a risky strategy! But will it pay off?\"\n\nKim: \"I hope so, Gary.\"\n\nGary: \"Oh! And another great fold by Mummi!\"\n\nKim: \"Ori counters with a backfold!\"\n\nGary: \"It's super effective!\"\n\nKim: \"Mummi might be paralyzed, he may not be able to move!\"\n\nGary: \"How will Mummi respond to this vicious counterfold attack?!\"\n\nKim: \"OH! and Mummi uses a double front fold!\"\n\nGary: \"Critical Hit!\"\n\nKim: \"Wow, and Japan calls for time out!\"\n\nMcDribbles: \"Both players seem like they are battling it out, and the side looks dead even... how will this play out?!! Find out, after another word from our sponsors.\"" ]	3
	[WP] A man cursed with the gift of knowing the time and circumstances of everyone's death but his own.	[ "He rose slowly from the comfortable bed. The room was dark, but it didn’t seem to bother him. He stood up, threw on a pair of jeans over his boxers and dragged an old t-shirt over his head. For a moment, he stood still in the silence surrounding the room, before glancing over at a woman sleeping on the other side of the bed. While he reached over to kiss her forehead, his eyes filled up with tears. There was nothing he could do.\n\nThe hallway was just as dark as the bedroom, except for a faint light coming from underneath a door a few steps away from the master bedroom. The light lit up the wall across from the door, revealing a picture of him and the woman holding a newborn child. He turned his watery eyes away from the picture as he entered the room. An infant was sleeping soundly in his crib, surrounded by blue walls. He walked slowly towards the crib and stared at his son. Although his eyes were still watery, no tears were running down his face. He had tried before, to change upcoming events, and he knew from bitter experience that one way or another, fate would conquer him. \n\nHe poured himself a glass of whiskey before sitting down by the kitchen table. He glanced over at the clock on the oven; it was almost time. Sipping his whiskey, he heard his wife get up from upstairs. It was time for breastfeeding. He listened to her steps over his head, slowly reaching the infant’s room. He closed his eyes as the tears started streaming, her scream echoing around the house.\n", "His name is John. From all appearances he is a normal, if somewhat morose, teenage boy. But inside his head there is a constant storm of terrible thoughts and conflicting emotions. Ever since he can remember, he's been seeing little numbers, like an LED clock, appearing over everyone's head, all slowly ticking down at the same rate. He tried to see his own, but apparently the numbers didn't get reflected. When he was five, he asked his parents what his number said and they looked at him like he was crazy. No, he insisted, the numbers are there. Dad, look above mom's head! The numbers! They're right there! His parents were troubled; of course there were no numbers over their heads. So they sent the young John to a psychiatrist. Eventually, the young boy who saw the numbers floating in midair admitted to making it all up. Of course, the numbers remained, but at least he didn't have to see a doctor anymore. \n\nHe finally realized what the numbers meant when he saw his grandmother's numbers finally tick down to 0000000, but he didn't know what to do with the information. No matter what he did the numbers kept going tick, tick, tick. When he was 12, he helped a small boy who was playing out in the street, only to find out later that he died in a car wreck with his mother. At 15, he tried to help a young man standing on the edge of a bridge, only to, inevitably, see him jump to his own death. \n\nTo hell with this, he thought. Finally 18, he was going to leave home and live in the woods, away from people, never having to deal with the burden of knowing when everyone around him was going to die. He was on his way to the bus station, walking with purpose, head down so as not to see the numbers as usual. He stepped out into the street, and was struck. His last thought: damn electric cars.\n\n----\n\nHer name is Susan. From all appearances she is a normal, if somewhat morose, teenage girl. She saw the sad looking boy walking head down, his number ticking dangerously close to 0000000. But of course she didn't say anything. Last time she did, she was locked up in a psych ward. She sighed. To hell with this, she thought.", "It hurt to look at them. \n\nIt hurts to sit and watch them laugh but I smile anyway.\n\nMy best friend, Steve (August 8th 2019 suicide) and his fiance Melissa (July 4th 2018 strangled). \n\nSo happy together. \n\nSo in love.\n\nThat's how it works with everyone. Their lives can be so beautiful and full, but they all come to an end one way or another.\n\nIt's harder when you know them. Knowing just how and when the lights in their eyes are going to be extinguished. \n\nSteve's lights are going to go out on July 4th 2018 and there's nothing I can do to help my best friend.\n\nI'm just glad I can't see my timer. I don't care how or when I go, I'm just trying to fill my life with as many beautiful happy things and people as I can.\n\nBecause they're all worth it. Each and every one of them is worth the time spent getting to know. No matter how fast their end approaches. Their existence is beautiful and worth remembering.\n\nNo matter how much it hurts.\n\nI just hope some of them will feel the same about me when my timer runs out", "I have an ability. It isn't a power or a gift; it has messed up my life too much to ever be something positive. Just by seeing someones name or face I know how and when they will die. Well it isn't that clear. What happens is I see a face and then I know there name, it works the other way too, then there the flash of emotion and sensation as if it was happening to me.\n\n Say someone was going to drown, I would feel my lungs burning, maybe there would be a pulling or something holding me down followed by the terror of realizing that I am helpless. After that shock sets in and I go numb as everything fades away a time and date appear. For this and this alone I have perfect recall. In the order of when I first heard about them or saw them. The first was Dr. Terry Figgs, who delivered me, she will die of some kind of sickness in about five years. There is nothing I can do to help her. \n\n These premonitions are vague. I have been able to piece together what some deaths are by how commonly people die from them or some sensations that have an obvious cause. Otherwise I try to figure them out by finding their obituaries. That is also how I noticed that the time of death was off.\n\n When I was younger it could be as large a difference as a day or two, but now it is down to within minutes. At first I thought the improvement came from practice, but now I have another idea, I'll get to that in a minute. \n\n At first I thought I was meant to be some kind of hero, but the time span is too broad even now, and the circumstances to vague. I have tried warning people and outright telling them, but I have stopped because it is only pushing them away. \n\n This ability has given me so many questions. Why and how do I know this? Is there anyway I can save them? Why can't I see my own death? When will I die? I think I have the answer for the last one. \n\n I was thinking of all the people that I have seen or heard of and how each time I see a new one it alters the time of death for everyone else. It does this for the people who have already died in a way.\n\n All the people who have died still have time on the clock. When I add new people to the list the time goes down, but everyone of them have the same amount. With all the people on the list this adds up to quite a bit of spare time, maybe enough for the remainder of a life. \n \n I spent the last few days slowly counting up the number of people on the list. 988,201 people on the list each one about a minute off; a little less than 2 years to live. If my idea is right. \n \n There is one other thing I realized when I was making that list. Whenever I see someone new, before I am thrust into the details of their death, I get a sense of weightlessness and exhilaration. It has become more intense over the years, and though I can relive the moment of others deaths to full intensity I cannot do the same with this feeling. \n \n Until last week I thought it was the feeling of using this talent I possess. Then while I was hanging out with some friends at one of their houses and we were swimming in his pool. I was standing by the pool zoned out, trying not to think about how he was going to die in 3 months, and how I might be following him soon. While I wasn't paying attention my friend gave me a push. It was the same feeling. The rush of air in helpless free fall, the excitement of building speed and the expectation of impact. \n\n\n\n", "Tick. Tick. Tick. Aaron taps his pencil frantically against his desk as the sounds of the clock's gears refract about his skull. Beads of sweat roll down his face. It's about to happen. \n\nTick tick tick, five seconds. First, the woman in the desk by the window facing the street will stand up and scream. Tick. A horn blares as the enormous vehicle crashes through the building. Tick. The bus charges through the office, taking out everything and everyone in its path. Mary, John, Allen. Tick. The bus brushes by a support beam and tips over to its side, sliding to the opposite corner. Tick. Half of the office employees are dead or severely injured. The rest stand wide-eyed and shocked, shedding tears for those lost and for the broken families that had just been created. Tick.\n\nAt precisely 3:15:27 p.m. on a sunny afternoon, a public transit bus crashes through a one-story office building on the outskirts of the city. The driver and all passengers die upon impact. Half of the office employees remain unharmed, among them, is Aaron Midas. \n\nUnlike the legendary Midas, who was gifted with the power to turn anything into gold, Aaron is cursed. Death surrounds him wherever he travels. His eyes can see the exact time and circumstances of every man, woman, child, animal, or living thing they lay themselves upon. Ever since he was a boy Aaron was engulfed by the sad futures of those he encountered. He sees pain, tears, lost love. He wants it to end. He can't wait for the day to come. However, it is the one day that remains a mystery to him. \n\nAfter the police get their information for their reports and the ambulance finished checking the survivors for injuries, Aaron leaves his now damaged place of employment and heads home. \nHe sits on the train and tries to relax. A man is standing by the doors, staring out the window. In a year, he will develop lung cancer. He will battle for three years but eventually fall victim to the disease. 1:49:10 a.m. 3/15/2018. A teenage boy listens to very loud music a few seats away from Aaron. In a few months, he will take his own life by overdosing on his father's painkillers. 11:31:32 p.m. 1/23/2015. A young woman sits happily in the seat across from Aaron. In two years, due to birth complications, she will die giving birth to her first child. 9:45:57 a.m. 10/12/2016. The train reaches Aaron's stop. Quickly, he stands up and leaves the train, holding back his tears the best he can. \n\nAs he returns home, Aaron's wife Christina stands at the doorstep with tears filling her eyes and a wide smile spread across her face. She must have heard the news about the office. She runs up to him and embraces him tightly, telling him how grateful she is that he's not hurt. A bright smile grew on Aaron's face. He loved Christina more than anything; she was the only person who could make him feel happiness. Then he sees it--the image that made his smile fade away a million times before. A beautiful young woman, cold, pale, and lifeless, lying in a pool of her own blood. \n\nA tear rolls down his face as he witnesses the moment that will cause his smile to fade away for eternity.\n\n12:13:33 a.m. 5/3/2019.", "Steve tried to warn everybody, the world was going to end. December 19th. Of course nobody believed him, \"there's a new world ending theory every year, he was told. \n\nThe ability to see when everybody would die, just by making eye contact was never a blessing. The first time he tried to save a man, he almost got shot for his trouble, the second time he was thrown in jail. After that he decided to only help subtly, try and guide people from there death, it never worked. Even when he changed their course of action, it lead to their death. He was the indirect cause. Steve stopped trying. \n\nOne day Steve realized, he never saw any dates into the year 2017. He began recording the dates he saw. The latest he had was December 19th, 4:47. The only explanation he could think; at this time, or shortly after, the world would end. \n\nAfter many attempts to convince news agencies, the government, anybody he could, he grew tired of it constantly falling on deaf ears. Resigned to the fate of Earth he choose to hope that the curse just stopped working on that date. \n\nDecember 19th, 4:49 PM.\n\n\"Well the world didn't end, guess my luck finally came through, I'm finally rid of this curse.\" Steve thought to himself as he checked his watch, for what felt like the millionth time that day. \"Guess it's time to get back to life.\" As he looks up he sees his bus pull into the stop across the street. \n\n\"Shit! It's five minutes early!\" \n\nA horn blares.\n\n\"So that's why the times stopped,\" He thought to himself as the speeding truck hit him.", "Today is November 3, 2014 and until now I was so careful. My whole life, well, ever since I had learned about my... ability. I had to be. For my own sake. How was I supposed to live a normal life, treat everyone the same, when I knew. I could just look at someone and know exactly how and when they would die. Was I just supposed to accept everyone like that? I mean, it's not like I'm being a racist or a xenophobe or bigoted or anything. You can't even give it a name. A time -ist? \n\nI was so careful of who I let in. Who I spent my time with. But people stopped having names to me.\n\nMy mother, January 3rd, 1998, car wreck.\nMy father, October 14th, 2021 respiratory failure.\nMy brother, September 22nd, 2034, Leukemia.\n\nYou can't choose who your family is.\n\nMy best friend, December 5th, 2061, complications during open heart surgery. A nice safe choice.\n\nMy neighbors, March 5th, 2039 and December 14th, 2044.\nMy employer, July 12th, 2033. \n\nHell, I was even careful with my dog. I remember when I picked her up from the pound as a puppy. May 1st, 2026, we've still got plenty of great years together.\n\nEveryone in my life, so carefully chosen and quantified. It may look sick to someone looking in but it keeps me safe and sane. It's not even a big deal to me anymore... at least it wasn't.\n\nUntil she walked in.\n\nThe most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Our eyes met and it was love at first sight.\n\nShe said her name was August 25th, 2018, brain aneurysm.\n\n ", "It began as a young child, but then it was only a feeling that came over him at times. As he grew into his teenage years, he began to fully understand what he was capable of. At first he could only sense the impending death of people he had a personal connection with, but with time he could merely lock eyes with anyone and know their time of death and the general cause. \n\nThis was a burden he did not want, and as a result he struggled with crippling depression, unable to share his secret with anyone. Walking around looking at his shoes became the norm, trying to avoid catching a glance and knowing the demise of yet another person. Even so, it was impossible to ignore everyone all the time, and the weight on his shoulders grew day by day.\n\nAs he walked down the sidewalk on a busy day, he found himself accidentally making way too much eye contact, and was particularly saddened by the young father that would die from cancer in only five years. He wanted so badly to help him, but he knew he couldn't fight the disease that was going to take his life. All he could do was live with the knowledge of his awful fate.\n\nLost in his thoughts, he didn't see the woman going the other way until their shoulders collided. Her phone went flying out of her hands, and as he apologized he bent down to pick it up for her. They locked eyes, and the feeling hit him harder than it ever had before.\n\nTwo minutes. Car accident.\n\n\"Ma'am, you're not going to believe me, but you need to go inside now. Please get away from the street.\" \n\nHe spoke without thinking, still stunned by what was going on. He had never encountered someone this close to death, and he couldn't sit by and do nothing. This wasn't a disease, a car accident could be prevented.\n\n\"Why?\" She asked, grabbing her phone and backing up with a confused and scared look sweeping across her face.\n\n\"Please, just trust me. Something really bad is going to happen if you don't get away from the street.\" He tried to explain.\n\n\"Get away from me.\" The woman said, clearly afraid he was going to do something to her.\n\nHe reached for her arm, and it was a terrible decision. She took off running from him, and never saw the car blowing through the red light. \n\nHe never tried to save anyone again. He could only know; he was powerless to stop fate. ", "He sat outside the café by himself quietly sipping at his coffee and watching the people go by. He followed some with more interest than others. A woman, pushing a pram with a baby had only days left. She would kill herself. An old man with a worn and beaten walking stick would die in fourteen years at the age of ninety-seven. He would die fending off burglars.\nHe didn’t know how he knew it, but he always had. He could sense when and how people would die.\nAt the age of six he had upset his mother (sixty-two, liver disease) when he had told his uncle that he would miss him. The next day he was found dead in the alleyway by his house, having suffered a massive heart attack. Through similar experiences he quickly realised that he was one of a kind, and that when he spoke plainly about people dying, it caused a large amount of upset. He had, in short, learnt to keep his mouth shut.\n\nHe had been able to see the time and cause of death of everyone he ever saw. It wasn’t a number or a sign or anything like that, it was a feeling. He could even see it on people in films or on TV. Which was why it had shocked him, when he was old enough to think about it, that he couldn’t tell when or how he would die. Perhaps he wouldn’t. Perhaps he would live forever.\nHe didn’t take that thought seriously, though. It was just that he had always wondered what it would be like to meet someone and not know.\n\nHe was about fifteen when he had built up the courage to try and do something about it. At school he had been a loner. He had few friends, and he knew that this was his own doing. The idea of getting close to someone and forever being reminded that they would pass away had made him avoid getting close to people. But then a girl in his class was going to die in a house fire. With six weeks to go, he decided to risk talking to her, hoping to build up enough of a rapport to somehow stop it. He had failed, of course. She had died, and he realised that he was, at present at least, powerless to stop it.\n\nAt first he had thought that maybe it was because he was young and inexperienced, but time showed him that no matter what, he would always be powerless.\nBut it did teach him something important. It showed him that getting close to people was not an awful thing. He had known her since he was eight, and had only come to know her for six weeks, and he had loved every minute of it.\n\nWhen he was twenty-five, his sister gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. His sister would live until she was eighty-two. She would die of a stroke. Her daughter would live until she was one-hundred and five! He realised then that she would outlive him, and he felt good knowing that here was someone who he would not have to say goodbye to.\n\nAnd then, at the age of thirty, he fell in love. She had months left until she died in a car crash, and he hated himself for falling for her, but what could he do? She was beautiful and funny, and all the rest of that good stuff. And he loved being around her.\nHe had only tried to change people’s death-date a handful of times and it had always ended in disaster. But now he was determined to stop it. Unfortunately, he had no idea how.\nHe considered trying to make her stay home that night, but he knew it wouldn’t work.\n\nOnce, he saw a homeless man who would die of exposure that night. He sat down and began to speak to him, learning his name and how he came to be in the situation he was. He took the man to a hostel and paid for him to spend the night there. He came back the next night to find that the homeless man had been thrown out for obscene behaviour. He had frozen to death at the back doors of the hostel.\nBecause of this, he was sure only direct action would work. If he had taken the man home, kept him warm, then he probably would have survived that night.\nAnd so he had arranged to be in the car with her on that fateful day.\nShe had insisted on driving, and he sat in the passenger’s seat on edge. He forced himself to laugh and smile, and he made conversation like it was nothing. Like he couldn’t sense her death getting closer by the minute.\nEventually as they drove a fog descended over the road. Visibility was reduced to practically nothing, and he felt as if he might have a heart attack. The very universe seemed to be conspiring against him. With seconds to go, he spotted headlights coming towards them. They were on the wrong side of the road, the driver clearly disorientated.\nTime slowed. He saw her panicking, not reacting quickly enough as the vehicle drew closer and closer. But he was prepared, he had known that something big was going to happen. He had the advantage.\nHe reached over and yanked on the wheel. Not too much, he didn’t want them to roll, but just enough to try and steer them clear.\n\nAnd so he sat at the café and sipped his coffee while watching the people go past. And eventually he stood up, buttoned up his jacked and adjusted his tie. Then he picked up the flowers he was going to leave at her graveside, and left.\n", "He walked along the street, passing strangers every few paces. And with every look, it hit him.\n\nCar accident, 2 years,3months, 10 days, 3 hours, 29 minutes and counting.\n\nDrug overdose, 6 years, 4 months, 13 days, 9 hours, 45 minutes and counting.\n\nSuicide, 3 months, 1 day, 2 hours, 1 minute and counting.\n\nHe saw the death of every person he passed. It was all he could think about, really. \n\nHe wondered if this was how Death felt as it walked among the living.\n\nThe curse had been with him for two years now. In the beginning, he tried to help. Every suicide that popped up, he would try to save. The countdown would add a few days, maybe a few weeks or months, but eventually it would always happen. It turns out, the timeline was not as corruptible as he thought.\n\nAfter 20 people, he stopped trying to help. \n\nBut he realized there were moments to be cherished.\n\nThe first time, he was passing a massive car accident. For most of the people involved, the countdown only read minutes or hours. But there was one pregnant woman involved that lifted his spirits.\n\nOld Age, 40 years, 6 months, 14 days, 5 hours, 6 minutes and counting.\n\nOld Age, 89 years, 11 months, 8 days, 10 hours, 37 minutes and counting.\n\nHe found that in major situations, he could find hope in knowing if someone was going to live. He started seeking it out when the world of death got too much for him.\n\nNot every one’s death was soon. That thought made him smile as he passed a young couple, with similar countdowns.\n\nOld Age, 50 years, 8 months, 26 days, 9 hours, 33 minutes and counting.\n\nOld Age, 50 years, 8 months, 26 days, 9 hours, 34 minutes and counting.\n", "Jason glanced up from his news paper.\n\nJanuary 14th, 3pm. Accidental drowning at a pool in Oakland.\n\nHe shook his head. The petite blond laughed to her friends, blissfully unaware of her impending doom. Jason stared a little longer than usual, wondering at her carefree smile.\n\nShe caught him looking.\n\n\"Creep.\" She muttered, then turned to walk away. Her entourage followed.\n\n\"Stay away from water.\" He called after her.\n\nThe group burst into laughing. They'd probably tell stories about the thirty-year old creep with the grey hair and wrinkled face. They say that stress causes premature aging, and Jason Hart knew all about stress.\n\nTwo of the other patrons of the coffee shop would die in the next five years due to heart failure. Likely because of unhealthy diets, lack of exercise and stress. \n\nJason sighed. \n\nThe barista would die during childbirth. That was surprising, it didn't happen to most people anymore. Jason wondered if the baby would live. \n\nThe power didn't work that way. He had to actually see the person to know. The words would just appear in his mind like they had been whispered into his ears.\n\nWhen he was young, the gift had been more vague. Jason would get a kind of sense of doom when he looked at a person. That was before he understood death. When he did, then the world took the place of the feeling.\n\nHe heard it when he looked at everyone.\n\nDeath. What an awful term.\n\nAs he grew up, his understanding expanded and so did the level of detail of his power. Jason remembered vividly in anatomy class, the first time he heard about a stroke. The teacher was explaining what it did to the brain.\n\nDeath by stroke, 4am while asleep in bed. The thought appeared as Jason had made eye-contact with his middle aged professor.\n\nThe boy tried to warn the man, but the teacher had only chuckled in reply. It took four months for his prediction to come true. One day class had been cancelled.\n\nThe principal held an assembly and told them all.\n\n\"Mr. Johnson died last night. He went peacefully in his sleep. For the rest of the day, feel free to stop into my office. We'll have counselors on staff to talk with you if you feel the need to discuss your feelings.\"\n\nJason had hardly been listening as the principal spoke. He had been thinking about where he had learned the term that echoed through his mind as he stared at the pudgy administrator. \n\nDecember 3rd, suffocation due to auto-erotic asphyxiation, 3pm in his office.\n\nLife had gone on, but it had worn on Jason greatly. Always knowing what would come. He had kept a calendar and marked the days as his father's motorcycle accident grew ever closer. He cried all night before the day it would occur.\n\nHe watched his father go with tear-stained cheeks. There was no point in trying to stop it. You could never stop it.\n\nThe police came that night. His mother was devastated. By then, Jason had no more tears to cry.\n\nHe looked back down at his newspaper. His mind was elsewhere. Today would be the day.\n\nIt had been a long time coming.\n\nWhen you know so much about the deaths of others, the thoughts regarding your own end start to consume you. For Jason, it had eaten through every fiber of his being. He knew the likelihood of nearly every demise, just to get a better guess as to what his own end would be.\n\nCancer, accident, stroke, heart disease. These were the most common.\n\nLightning, meteor, tsunami, ebola. These were the least.\n\nJason had decided that today would be the day that he wouldn't need to think about death anymore. He wouldn't have to wonder about his own end because he was going to make it happen. The .45 in his glove box would do the trick nicely.\n\nIt was several hours later when he had found just the right spot. It was in a clearing surrounded by tall trees. Jason had stumbled upon it rather by accident, but it would serve just fine.\n\nHe held the gun in his hands.\n\n\"I guess that I get to know my own end after all.\" He whispered. Jason heard the clink as the bullet entered the chamber.\n\nHe put it against his temple.\n\nFebruary 1st, 1pm. Death by suicide, a bullet to the brain. He spoke out the words one by one in his head.\n\nIt was his eulogy.\n\nHe pulled the trigger.\n\nThere was no bang. Just the ringing sound of the metal hammer striking the bullet in the chamber. The woods fell silent.\n\nJason began to weep.", "It was always the small things, I could see the seconds left in someone's days, and the smallest thing could change that. I've see clocks go from 10 seconds to twenty years, all by the act of an outstretched hand.\n\nIt took year for me to figure out what it was, when I held my grandmothers hand as she passed, I knew what it was. I could be a hero, I could stop so many deaths.\n\nBut I was wrong.\n\nFor every death I prevent someone else must die. Each and every time I reach to pull someone out of traffic I may be my own life next. I realized that I could see everyone's time of death. \n\nAll but my own.\n\nWhen I realized that I was 18; and here I stand at 21, ready to give up.\n\nIt was one swift jump, and when I was about to hit the water, I saw it.\n\n00:01 til death" ]	12
	[WP] When you tell someone to have a nice day, they do. But you then have a bad day. The same is true in reverse.	[ "Today I heard the four words that I tread hearing. \"Have a nice day.\" I alwyas hated those words. I hated the fact that someone was giving up thier happiniess for me. I hated the fact that once the day was given it could not be given back. The man that wished me a good day had the look of a martyr someone who thought that they could bare all the hardships of the world as long as others did not have to. Most ended up homeless and dead within a year, but they always seemed to die happy.", "Beep. Beep. \"Have a good one!\" I grin. Twenty-two. \n\nMetal on metal, plastic on plastic. \"Have a great day!\" I give them a polite smile. Twenty-three. \n\nThe shuffling of bags. \"Hope you have a nice day!\" I almost reply, but stop myself. Not now, not now. I nod instead, heart racing because I could have fucked up, I could have fucked up so bad. Twenty-four. \n\nFour o'clock, get in the car. Green lights all the way through. The radio station mentions a car accident that happened a hour ago nearby. (Two kids, one adult, metal on metal.) \n\nEnter. Go up the elevator, fifth floor. (fixed yesterday, paraplegic was stuck in it for two hours.) Go inside. \n\nShe's on the bed (as always), but she's sleeping. Must have been tiring. Beep. Beep. \n\nI brush the hair out of her face, retrieve her toy penguin (\"Shuffle\"), tuck her in. Kiss her on the forehead. \n\n\"Have a nice day.\"" ]	2
	[WP] The flowers you bought her are in the trash.	[ "The flowers I bought her are in the trash. What the hell? \n\n\"Maria!\" I yell up the stairs angrily.\n\nShe comes down the stairs in a defiant manner.\n\n\"The flowers! Why-\" I started.\n\n\"Because I don't forgive you. What you did is beyond forgiveness,\" Maria shouts, crossing her thin arms.\n\n\"I said I'm sorry. I don't know what else to do now,\" I explain. I really don't.\n\n\"When you did that experiment it hurt me deeply. And now look at you!\" Maria shrieks.\n\nI catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I do have a greenish tinge to me. But that's all part of the job.\n\n\"Keep your voice down,\" I warn, \"the neighbours think I write second-rate fiction under a pseudonym. We don't want them knowing I'm actually a scientist.\"\n\n\"I wouldn't call what you do science,\" Maria says, almost in a whisper, \"I would call it being an intergalactic whore by this point.\" \n\n\"So I've had to learn the hard way a few times how different species mate. Big deal. I'm no worse for the wear and it isn't like I intentionally-\" but I don't finish my sentence because Maria has slapped me across the face. She seems to think my job is easy.", "I knew I messed up.\n\nIt was really easy to figure out, too. She told me. Just as she told me almost every week we’d been together for the past two years. I wasn’t listening to her, I didn’t care about her needs, and something else as well, but I honestly wasn’t paying attention.\n\nSo after this last fight, I was just trying to make it up to her. I bought her favorite flowers. A cool dozen Sunflowers, which, believe me, are not easy to find in Romania. \n\nApparently that wasn’t the right move. She yelled at me again about not listen, and how those weren’t her favorite flowers. I think she might have said something about roses, but I kind of blanked out again. I can’t help it, she’s just so pretty, it’s hard to pay attention sometimes.\n\nAnd then he showed up.\n\nOf course there was someone else. Why wouldn’t there be?\n\nTall, dark, handsome. Everything a woman would want. And apparently he’s a really good listener. He should be, with those damn long pointy ears he’s got. Doesn’t talk much, though. Just kind of sits there eyeing you with that stupid grin on his face and his teeth sticking out.\n\nWhat did she say his name was? Norman? No, Nosfur-something? Doesn’t matter now. It’s not like I’ll see either of them again.\n\nDamn vampires.\n", "There they were, their bright young colors now marred and muted, lying wilted next to an ice cream sandwich wrapper and the morning coffee grounds. I didn't let her see that I knew what had happened to them. She most likely thought that I wouldn't even notice, and I couldn't blame her. \n\nI had a thought in that moment. I envisioned me pulling two tickets to anywhere out of my leather satchel and setting them on her pillow. She would find them and have hope that maybe things wouldn't always be the same. Maybe the same restaurants, traffic rides and making ends meet didn't have to be all. She would grab them and run to me without saying a word with a tear in her eye and hug me. I'd quit my job the next day and throw a few things in a suitcase laid out on the bed with 90's music playing on her ipod.\n\nI saw her back to me, as she leaned over the sink scrubbing lunch plastic ware, not even looking up as she said hello. I set my satchel down next to the door, slipped off my shoes and sat on the couch, where I always sat, staring at a black television screen to find the courage.\n ", "I thought I had her this time. \n\nFor weeks I've plotted and schemed. I've filled notebooks as I've observed her patterns. Cutting her brake line was stupid, I know that now. What's the first pedal you press when you start your car? If I had thought about it for a second I would have seen my error. \n\nLikewise with the piano. I must have blown three grand on that. Ha, grand, get it? No, that's dumb. Just like buying a piano, paying rent on a 3rd floor apartment next to her work, getting the damned moving company to schedule the drop-off in the morning, switching out their rope for the one I'd pre-frayed, then delaying them while we waited for her. Of course I pick the one day she's home sick. Now I have to wait for 6 months before their insurance will reimburse me. Imbeciles! I told them to wait! I barely got out of the way myself when it came down.\n\nAnd now this. I spent days picking the right flowers. What woman isn't intrigued by a secret admirer? \"Flowers for my flower.\" I shuddered in revulsion as I wrote the card out. She loves pink - at least half her wardrobe is pink - and Robert, her last boyfriend, has been out of the picture for months now. It was perfect! Poison flowers! One whiff and she'd be done for! \n\nI waited for hours outside her door to hear the thump as she collapsed on the floor. But none came. The next morning, they were out in the trash.\n\nAllergies. Blasted allergies. At least she read the card.", "\"We'll just keep her overnight as a precaution.\" I had bought the bouquet that night and placed it on the nightstand.\n\n\n\"There are a few things that we found in the tests that we need to check out. She'll have to stay for tonight as well.\" The flowers had begun to wilt.\n\n\n\"We're not sure yet, but there is a strong chance...\" The first petals fell.\n\n\nThen came the day with the flashing lights and the frantic voices and the sounding alarms.\n\n\nThe hospital bed is empty now, the sheets freshly made, and the dead and brown flowers that I bought her are in the trash.", "I worked in a lab as a scientist developing new organic plant life that would survive the effects of pesticides. Long days and nights I spent locked away in an airtight, artificial ecosystem where my team and I introduce and simulate real world variables to our specimens in controlled experiments. It had been another long month at work, thinking about the bare earth outside and wishing to get home to my wife, Laura.\n\n\nLaura loved flowers, always had. The day my team and I finally created the perfect chemical-resistant flowers, I knew that I just had to send some to her. Finally she would have something alive in our little yard, something growing that would restore mankind's hope in our planet. I took time and care to select three of the most beautiful blue-violet (as yet unnamed) flowers and sent them to her, each in its own little clay pot. I spent the rest of that productive day working with my team to run further experiments on our other test subjects, then went to punch out for the night. After the long month we had put in, my team and I deserved at least the night off. I didn't bother to call Laura, wanting to surprise her twice in one day; once with the flowers, and again with my homecoming.\n\n\nAs I walked home, my shoes crunched down stale, dry dirt and broke brittle browning grass. I pictured how Laura must have smiled when her flowers arrived. The doorbell ringing, some beaming lad holding up colorful living things that my love hadn't seen in half a decade. Colorful living things that would keep living outside the lab, not just die once exposed to the toxic air and soil.\n\n\nWhen was the last time she had really smiled? When had she last seen something so beautiful?\n\nI had been aware that she had been feeling down for a very long time. First because the plant life had started to die, then was all gone. Next the little critters outside had started to disappear. Every night there would be fewer and fewer chirps of crickets, butterflies would no longer land on flowers, moths had stopped fluttering around buzzing lightbulbs.\n\n\nSmall animals had lived longer, eating food and waste from humans left in trashcans and in gutters along the streets, but before long they died off as well. Larger animals were starting to die, deprived of their natural prey. Even the fish were dying, poisons slowing leaking into groundwater and following rivers into the ocean.\nPeople had begun to die. So far, only the very young and old from drinking toxic water supplies and eating meat that had been fed more chemicals. Laura's parents had died a year ago, her mother almost half a year after her father. I had been away from home often during these times, but I had been with her on the day of her mother's death.\n\nLaura hadn't handled it well, she had started ranting about how we were all going to die and everything I was doing in the lab was hopeless. She had demanded to know why I couldn't just stay with her while the earth was dying, just be with her for the last days. I didn't know how to explain that it was precisely because the planet was dying that I couldn't just hide at home. Not when I could help, not when I could save us. And what had I sent her today? The very things that would save us all. Sure, they were merely flowers, but we could clone bees and they would pollinate them. We could develop food crops with the same method we used to create the flowers. We may have even found a way to reverse the damage we had done to the water.\n\n\nI thought it was all going to be okay.\n\n\nI arrived at our door and became dimly aware of a sense of dread. I didn't know why I should feel dread, the day had been going so well. My wife had been holding beautiful flowers hours before I found myself standing at our open front door.\n\n\nOur open front door which should have been closed as I couldn't see my wife anywhere in our yard. It was bright outside but Laura kept the blinds down, like most people after the life died. I pushed open the door and was greeted by a dark, quiet house. I'd called her name a few times, first keeping my voice cheerful and then growing more fearful as I heard only the reply of silence.\n\n\nShe never left the house anymore back then, so I thought maybe she had gone to sleep early. After all, I hadn't phoned to tell her I was coming home. I made my way to the kitchen and paused over the full garbage can. My face fell, my heart dropped, my blood cooled. Discolored leaves and dry petals poked out of the can, the pots the stems were planted in cracked and in pieces from the force with which Laura had tossed them. The flowers had died and she had thrown them away.\n\n\nHow heartbroken she must have been! I myself had seen many failed experiments. I knew these were the longest living plants my team had produced. I had witnessed the failures and deaths many times. But Laura... She didn't know we were so close, this was only a set back. I made a mental note to tell my team to check the other experiments, and then continued through the kitchen.\n\n\nI called to her again as I opened the bedroom door, pictured myself cheering her up, explaining that it was a small setback. Cooking dinner with her, holding her hand across the table, being with her after so long at work.\n\n\nThe door opened to reveal her sleeping, still form curled on the bed. My mouth turned up in a gentle smile as I made my way to the bed, quietly taking off my shoes and lifting my side of the covers. I had gotten carefully into bed behind her, pulled the covers over myself and wrapped my arm around het waist. I pressed my lips to her ear and whispered her name against cold skin.\n\n\nShe was so cold, she lay so limp where I pulled her against me. I realized she was very still, not even breathing. I pictured the dead brown flowers in the trashcan, the broken clay of the smashed pots. I lay there against her cold body and saw her brittle brown hair, her ribs poked at my arm through her pajamas. I was reminded of her cracked lips the day her mother died and remembered her telling me it was hopeless, heard her begging me to just stay home with her as the world ended.\n\n\nShe had watched the flowers die just as she thought she'd watch the rest of us die. They hadn't given her hope, but confirmed to her our doom. I gripped her waist tighter, crushed her to me as the world swam, and then I finally saw the bottle on the nightstand, empty of sleeping pills.", "A single tear fell on the yellow petals as shock, despair and dismay all registered across the once joyous face of the expectant father. In a moment, the soul had become half a being, ripped and torn in two, and by a child- no, he told himself, my child. It doesn't matter right now, she's gone, I need to...\n\n\nShe's gone.\n\n\nShe's GONE.\n\n\nLegs buckling, the pain hit him full force, and he couldn't even reach his wife's bed. I need to get up, I need to move. There's someone that needs me. She. She still needs me.\n\n\nThe orderly found him there, not having moved an inch. \"Sir, you need to get up. Sir? Sir?\" \n\n\nRegistering the older woman, he shakily stood, leaning on her for support until his legs worked again.\n\n\n\n\n* * \n\n\nThe neo-natal ward would release her in three days, if no further complications surfaced. Only once had the word adoption been mentioned, and he had rejected it immediately. He understood why his wife loved this garden, now. Too often he was busy, or had had plans with friends, or just didn't want to work.\n\n\nHe understood now, the heady smell of the flowers, the rich smooth feel of the tilled earth, the warmth of the sun. He smiled sadly, taking solace and comfort in the labor.\n\n\n * \n\n\n\"Dad, what's this one?\"\n\n\n\"That's called a buttercup.\" A rare grin crossed his face as the inquisitive eleven year old helped him with his favorite pastime. He'd done his best, done everything he could so far, and he'd been rewarded with a beautiful young child. \"Here, take this pile to the trash, I'll clean up and start dinner.\" He'd had to learn to cook, to care for another person again. The sleepless nights from over ten years ago were almost gone; the aching never really stops, does it? He'd made room for this, no, his* new girl, but that pain couldn't ever be forgotten \n\n\n* * \n\n\n\"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!\" He slammed the car door and sprinted across the lawn, stopping short of the green and yellow pile in front of him.\n\n\"What's it look like.\" She reached forward and pulled at another plant, straining until it reluctantly gave way, roots tearing out of the soil. Throwing it at his feet, she grabbed another. \"When are you going to stop living half a fucking life- I need* you too, and a hell of a lot more than she does now! She's gone and you want to be.\" The bitterness pierced his anger.\n\n\n\"Stop! Just stop- please don't...\"\n\n\n\"Let her go, just let her go. Can't I be enough? Why do I have to be haunted by her too?\"\n\n\nHe could see the tears falling onto her knees, and he reached down, touched her head, stroking the hair that looked so much like... no! He knelt down next to her, holding her to him, his tears falling unnoticed. At least she's still small enough for me to hold. \"I want to, darling, I want to. I wish I could.\"\n\n\nThey stayed like that for a few minutes, before she stirred. \"Honey, go inside and order a pizza. I'll clean this up.\" She sniffled and then nodded against his chest before rising.\n\n\nHe gathered up the discarded plants in his arms and walked to the side of the house, taking two trips to get all the damage cleared. Lifting the lid, he tossed handfuls in. \"I will. I'm sorry, but I have to. For her. You'll understand that, right?\" Swallowing the tension in his throat, he closed the can, brushed his hands off onto his pants, and went inside." ]	7
	[WP] The apocalypse has occurred, the world has ended; you are happy about this.	[ "\"We never needed those fuckers anyway, did we Jammie.\" Jammie looked up at him, all he ever heard when Gary spoke was \"food.\" That was fine, he supposed, Gary had never been much for company; he was much happier when it was just him and his dogs. It didn't bother him when the tsunamis hit the coasts, he was too far inland and it didn't scare him when the earth began to shake, he built this house himself, it would hold just fine. Gary watched the world fall apart until the TV stopped receiving. It didn't take long for the power to go out but Gary was prepared for it all, better than any TV survivalist. Life as a loner on his seventy acre private property in the woods gave him lots of time to develop hobbies; he could hunt, fish, protect himself all he needed to and, honestly, he didn't care what the folks in town thought of him. They pointed when he made his monthly trip to the store, they whispered while he treated himself to chinese food. They blatantly stared when he drove his jeep into and back out of town and Gary did not give a single fuck. He had no reason to see those people or visit that town except to replenish the essentials he didnt care to make for himself. In fact, the only time Gary had been to town aside from shopping had been when Mimi was sick. Mimi was Jammie's older sister and when a bear trap closed on her foot on his land Gary had fallen apart; nothing he did would heal her infected cuts. It took a trip to the vet to save her but Mimi was just fine as a tripod. That scumbag vet had tried to convince him the cost of the surgery wasn't worth the life of a dog Mimi's age; Gary had almost hit him.\n\nSorry OP, I kinda ran out of vision. I'll keep it up if you want though. \n", "The smoke of the fire stung my eyes as I carefully placed another log into the ash-filled pit. I smiled at my companions as we stared pensively into the fire. Out small scouting party had covered quite a distance today and those of us not on watch were currently enjoying a small sliver of tranquility around the pit.\n\n\"Music.\"\n\nI had forgotten someone had asked a question. Talking about the world before all this was hard sometimes. But we had grown quite close over the past few months. It was amazing what a little security would do to camaraderie, let alone our fledgling settlement.\n\n\"I miss music the most,\" Darren said.\n\nMy mind drifted towards what might have become of my own favorite musicians. If any of them were still out there somewhere.\n\nThe slosh of liquid in a canteen. The crackle of the fire. A man moving quietly in the woods beyond the clearing. These were the sounds that were familiar to my now. I understood what he meant.\n\n\"What about you Rob?\" Vincent said, not taking his eyes from the coals.\n\nI had time to answer. There was no rush. We were ahead of schedule and had plenty of rations. If we wanted, we could remain here tomorrow, gathering more supplies for the trek. Explore the woods. Hunt for game. Fish in the nearby river. Nothing but the fresh air in our lungs. The occasional bandit was always a threat, of course. But nothing's ever perfect.\n\nI knew what I wanted to say, but the truth was harsh. I should tell them that I miss my friends. Or books. Or television. Or long car rides, or video games, or coffee, or ...\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"I don't miss it,\" I said staring at a perturbed Vincent. \"I wouldn't want to go back. I prefer things this way.\"\n\nDarren was curious. \"Why?\"\n\n\"Is this really so bad?\" I said stretching out my arms. \"What did you do before? I worked in an office. From 8 to 5 everyday. I went to work, came home, ate dinner and procrastinated starting it all over again the next day. I paid my bills and still had more than I needed. But nothing was ever enough. Nothing was satisfying in that mundane life. Sure it game me security, but at the price of being shackled to a job I could hardly stand? It was the same thing everyday. Seasons changed, politicians changed, the years went on. But everything stayed the same.\"\n\nThey were silent.\n\n\"But out here? I don't know where my next meal's going to come from. I don't know if we're going to find other survivors. I don't know what's forty feet through those trees right in front of us. And everyday I go to sleep exhausted. And every morning the world is reborn. Always another challenge. Never the same thing twice. It's hard work to go hunting, to butcher an animal, and roast it over a spit. And it might not be seasoned, but it still tastes better than any $50 a plate Brazilian steak house I ever knew. This life, if nothing else, it's rewarding.\"\n\nThey were soaking it all in. The fire was starting to die down again. I stood up to grab another log. A man appeared from the edge of the clearing in front of me, signaling for me not to make a noise. Another gesture and I knew I needed to get my gun and start moving.\n\nI turned to my comrades as I reached for my rifle. \n\n\"Come on,\" I whispered. \"Thing's are about to get interesting.\"" ]	2
	[WP] If Elon Musk was actually a stranded alien who is trying to advance human society enough to get a ride home.	[ "\"Imagine for a moment that you are in a leaky rowboat, stranded in the middle of the Pacific,\" he interrupted emphatically. The faces in the circular room shot towards the man who had just interrupted the President of the United States during the closed-door UN climate council meeting. Such an interruption was unprecedented, but Musk had the kind of intellectual (and monetary) cache that made even the sternest of his critics take notice when he spoke.\n\n\"In the boat with you are your families, your children, your coworkers. People you know and love. But you have a problem,\" he drawled, \"the people around you are starving and have begun to consume the vessel in which they sit.\"\n\n\"Mr. Musk,\" President Romney interrupted peevishly, \"what does this have to do with the subject at hand?\"\n\nMusk folded his hands patiently, metaphors eluded the American president. He continued. \n\n\"You have three choices. The first is to accept your fate, t-that you are confined to the boat and that you will watch all of your friends and family die. The second is to try to find dry land...\"\n\n\"And what's the third option? just out of curiosity.\" Romney bristled. The president sat back in his large chair and crossed his legs.\n\n\"Well, I am.\" Musk stated.\n\nRomney rolled his eyes.\n\n\"I don't think-\"\n\n\"I want to hear what he says, Mitt,\" David Cameron was tired of the bullshitting for the first time in his career, \"There will be no one to re-elect you if your entire electorate is dead, little less the rest of the damn planet. Mr. Musk?\"\n\n\"I've seen problems like these before: nitrogen-depleted soil, holes in the ozone, temperature fluctuations, unstable weather and ocean currents. My people came up with a solution ages ago.\"\n\n\"Your.... people?\" the King of Spain prodded cautiously.\n\n\"Yes,\" Musk continued, hoping they thought he was only referring to South Africans, \"and I've been-been trying to get y-you people to stop wasting your own time. But it seems to be a habit, so I'll make this as simple as I can for you. If you give me control of NASA, I will fix your problem.\"\n\nThere were audible guffaws from a few of the delegates. \n\n\"Mr. Musk, wherever it is that you claim to be from, it would be a major conflict of interest to allow a privately held company to take over a state run space program.\" Cameron blurted. \n\nMusk removed his phone from his pocket and solemnly placed it on the table. \n\n\"I didn't come here to bargain. That is my offer. A complete solution to climate change in exchange for NASA.\"\n\n\"And what do you get outta this?\" Romney asked, ever the opportunist.\n\n\"I get option number four. I get to go home after having repaired your boat,\" Musk saw a sea of brows furrowed with confusion, \"I'm going to answer the W.O.W. signal so I can hitch a ride home, finally.\"\n\n Romney smirked. As he turned in his chair to make some blistering comment, Musk lifted his phone and said:\n\n\"Siri, remove filter.\"\n\nIn an instant he had shed his human form. In its stead was a large, gray creature whose head resembled something like a praying mantis' and whose shiny thorax gave way to six long, spindly arms. Musk attempted unsuccessfully to adjust the height of his chair to accommodate his larger form during what can only be described as an awkward silence of epic proportions. \n\nDavid Cameron and Angela Merkel shot each other knowing looks. She slid him 50 euro across the table.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "Dr. Singh looked again from chart to the thin, white man sitting on the wrinkled paper of the fire engine examination table. Singh's expression kept morphing from confusion, to disbelief, to awe, while Elon maintained a nonchalant stare at the rotund middle-aged man. Singh puttered his words trying to find the next logical question which escaped his mind. Singh set down the chart and leaned with one arm on the counter that held all the extra-long Popsicle sticks, non-latex gloves, and his Spider-man band-aids.\n\n“I know, bit of a shock I guess” Elon said breaking the pediatrician out of his dubiety. “Well I had you sign the NDA for a reason... plus your record shows that you're one of the best at dealing with these types of cases. Also, I read your superego before I came in the office so I know you won't tell anyone”\n\n“Well... that's uh” Singh now had to deal with not only the fact that Elon Musk wanted him as his personal physician, but that Elon Musk apparently is an extraterrestrial and could read his psyche. “Are you reading my mind, now?”\n\n“No. Do you want me to?”\n\n“NO! And please don't do that again.”\n\nElon closed his eyes nodding in agreement for a moment, “Okay, I understand... so what do you think? can you fill my prescription or not?”\n\nSingh now was more confused than before... How could a multi-millionaire, mind reading, alien not know that Zyrtek is an over the counter medicine. Singh didn't feel like going through this explanation with him and was starting to feel woozy.\n\n“Yes mister Musk... just a let me grab the paper to write the prescription from my nurse... Can I tell her?”\n\n“Oh yeah sure... she's one of the good ones, too.” Elon pulled out his phone and casually started taping out something. He held up the phone and as it played the sound of a light-saber starting up and being waved, he pressed the send button for the little message he just pretyped for his incoming text. “Also, can I have one of the Spider-man stickers?”\n\n“Those are bandaids.”\n\n“Can I have one of the Spider-man bandaids?”", "###*...If?!\n\nI'm no storyteller, and I haven't been around in this subreddit. But this here is damn near common knowledge, so for the good of your education, gather round, and I will outline the entirely true* series of events that led to El0n Musketaraxian being stranded on this planet, basically through no fault of his own.\n\n###^^^^^^.\n\nEl0n was never the brightest of the Musketaraxian clan. Not the fastest, not the strongest. To be perfectly candid, the only thing he really had going for him was his natural camoflauge... A member of the [Fra'as](http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/fiction_rule_of_thumb.png) had once said to him, \"El0n, you may as well have been born on another planet, because you'd surely fit in better there than you do here.\"\n\nAs he sat at his desk, contemplating the work schedule for another day on planet Earth, his thoughts turned again to those words, rattling around in his head these past few years...\n\nHis reverie was interrupted by a loud crash as the new intern, for what seemed like the thousandth time today, broke something he was carrying into the kitchen. With a heavy sign, El0n lifted himself out of his chair and walked once more to help Kevin clean up his mess. He knew without looking that the executives were whispering about him, but he couldn't help it - in poor, clumsy Kevin, he saw a reflection of himself. \n\nAs he helped Kevin wipe up spilled coffee from the floor of the break room, his thoughts drifted once more towards home ... And the series of tiny mistakes that led to this moment.\n\n###^^^^^.\n\n\"Make sure you get everything off the bottom\", sneered Axi0n, El0n's much larger, older brother, \"You don't want Appa Fra'as to get mad that you dropped his food again, now then would you?\"\n\nEl0n solemnly shook his head in response. It wasn't his fault he'd dropped the tray, Axi0n knew he was scared of Appa Fra'as - That was probably the reason Axi0n was disguised as him in the first place, to sneak up on El0n as a prank. It wasn't El0n's fault he'd ruined the prank by smashing into Axi0n, he was just trying to make sure Appa's food arrived on time. But of course Axi0n wouldn't care about that, he was probably already devising some new and creative way to punish El0n...\n\n###^^^^^.\n\nAxi0n sneered as he walked away, kicking the tray once more just out of El0n's reach. On the inside, however, he was fuming. That was close... he thought to himself, It's a good thing El0n didn't arrive on time with the food, or he might have ruined everything like he always does...\n\nAs soon as he was around the corner, he activated his disguise again and doubled back to the council chambers. This was his chance, if he could get in and out quickly to poison Abba's cup, the blame would fall on El0n, and he could kill two birds with one Krytos, so to speak. And then, the seat will be mine... All that remains will be to get rid of El0n to solidify my position as a leader who rules with an iron fist, one that didn't even make exceptions for family! Axi0n smiled in spite of himself. This is going to be fun! \n\n###^^^^^.\n\nWatching Kevin get picked up by his brother from the windows of his office on the 26th floor, El0n contemplated the nature of family. What I would give to be more like them, he thought, to be part of a family that helps each other, instead of just being a glorified tournament structure where only the best child is loved by the family...\n\nTurning back towards his now empty office, El0n sat down in one of the comfortable brown armchairs his assistant had purchased for him, made from the skin of a great, lumbering, yet inexplicably peaceful beast the humans had domesticated. I'm coming for you, brother... and I'm bringing a present. He pressed a series of buttons on the recessed console in the armrest of his chair, and on command, a large flatscreen smoothly slid up out of the floor, displaying a rocket. But this rocket wasn't like the rest, this rocket wasn't being advertised and talked about in the pages of Wired magazine... Images of the nuclear device at its core weren't adorning the pages of the SpaceX website. No, this rocket was special, a present suitable for the newest member of the Fra'as council. A present suitable for El0n's Musketaraxian family.\n\n^^^More ^^^coming, ^^^just ^^^got ^^^back ^^^to ^^^my ^^^computer. ^^^Had ^^^to ^^^consult ^^^the ^^^official ^^^archives ^^^to ^^^make ^^^sure ^^^I'm ^^^staying ^^^on ^^^track." ]	3
	[WP] The birds started screaming. Literally. With the voices of men.	[ "\"Dude look at this bush, isn't this an awesome bush?\" A high shrill voice says outside the window. \"This is one awesome bush man, look at these leaves. Feel that bark under your feet. Nothing like it. YO GUYS COME LOOK AT THIS BUSH.\" Another voice screams. Every morning, every day, why couldn't they get over this bush? It's just like every other bush in this town, but they all come here. I just don't understand. \"Like, Oh my god. This bush is like, so fly.\" \"So fly? What is this the 90s? You look like a 90s bird, and smell like it too.\" \"Like, shut your beak frank. We know you like to watch.\" Soon a medley of voices join them, all high pitched and screaming, trying to be louder then the other. I finally get up, my head throbbing as I walk to the window. I fire it open, throwing a shoe into the bush. Screams of terror and panic sound off as all the birds fly away. \"Just another day where birds can talk.\" I say, closing the window. ", "I saw a video the other day about a woman walking around New York for 10 hours being cat-called. I decided to make a parody of myself walking through a forest. Now, objectively, I am a good looking lady. I mean, I get complements all the time and feel like they are honest complements. I am used to crude remarks from men. Noting would prepare me for what happened in the next few hours.\n\nI decided that I didn't have to film a full 10 hours of myself walking through a forest, just an hour would do. I started my walk and once I got a fair distance into the forest, I started the camera, doing my best to stare into it the whole time while walking. Then I heard something I didn't expect...\n\n\"How you doin'?\"\n\nWait. What? Who said that? I shook my head, thinking I was hearing things and kept walking.\n\n\"Wanna come home with me, babe?\"\n\nAlright. Someone was officially messing with me. Who was it?\n\n\"I swear, you are so hot. I could...\"\n\n\"Alright!\" I yelled. \"Whoever that is, I can hear you and have a taser. Back off!\"\n\nNo response. This whole situation was far beyond my level of comfort. I turned off the camera and was about to head back when I saw a bird fly onto the branch of a tree.\n\nIt stared at me and said, \"I'd like to peck you so hard.\"\n\nWhat? A bird? What is going on. \"Uh... excuse me?\" I looked around for some sort of prank video crew or something. \"Hello? Who said that?\"\n\n\"I did, toots.\" The bird said. \n\n\"I don't...\" Just then more birds flew onto the trees around me... all making crude remarks about my appearance. I didn't know what to do. \"What is going on?\"\n\nSuddenly, all of the birds turned into middle-aged men. One of them, who happened to be rather obese with a neckbeard and orange-tinged fingers, said. \"Look. There hasn't been a woman to walk through these parts in some time. Would you be up for a...\" he counted all the others, \"14-some. or something?\"\n\n\"Ew. No! Get away from me, you creep!\"\n\n\"Creep? You think we are creeps? No, no... you got it all wrong. We are Animorphs.\"\n\n\"Animorphs?\"\n\n\"You know. Animorphs. We saved the world a few times from aliens. Got powers from a blue box. Our best friend eats with his feet.\"\n\nAnother one of them raised his hand, \"That's me!\"\n\n\"Shut up, you.\" The fat one continued. \"We are superheroes! You should be honored.\"\n\nI wasn't. I opened my backpack and pulled out my taser. \"Leave now, or else.\"\n\n\"What are you going to do?\"\n\nI shot. They all turned back into birds and screamed as they flew away.\n\n\"I hate animorph catcallers.\"" ]	2
	[WP] When you die your soul transfers to a newborn baby. When you grow up you regain your memories from your previous life.	[ "People went on talkin' like they always did, payin' no attention to what lives had been rung up and down before them. “Don't forget, you effect the next one,” They'd teach us that in school “leave him a good message. Leave him good memories.” We all knew how it worked by the time we were five. For some that's when it started, others it came later. I remember grown' up, waiting, but not knowing when my time would come. It did though, a fascinating figure of glade horizon in your dreams, slipping shapes beyond a world where you could grasp at them with gentle hands on a cold morning. Certain ones you could hold onto, really tangle up and then they were yours. Months I spent chasing a memory. The one that I hold up tight. \n\nLife, comin' at me like a sunbeam. Against the coarse ground and through wheat fields out onto the old pastures where his mother used to wait for him on long afternoon walks. Billy was this memory. Kinda boy who would ride an old boat of a truck down to the pike, to watch the sunrise off the edge of town and shut away that long night. He was younger in this memory. One of the few I kept. A sudden change in his place brought down upon him the appearance of magnitude, I still wonder what. Forced out some how, but still, even with my runn'n after it I am unable to obtain what ever blackness caused his memories to change. \n\t\nOut on the old ropes of the tire swing is where he would stand, groping at the reins of the childhood toy. Billy could feel all those years of use in its core. Rough against his palm, a flavor to it the years have given the twine. A patch here and there that was loose and came undone at a twist. Through his nails he passed disconnected strings and ran them through fingertips. Feeling, ever inch an old past time. Out on horizon there she would have stood. Looking back at him, watching as he came and went on the crest of the hill, swinging in the old tree. A hand would have been over her face then, making it a shadow at a distance. Even then he would have felt her smile. There was trust. Sun down came too fast now, there wasn't time enough to wait for her and Billy knew that. Out in the meadows the sun beam walks and river trickle past the pike would have set all of his world a nice place of pleasure.\n \t\nI was born at the wrong time, a lot of us boys caught the memories of those we had lost back in the war. By the time we were all eighteen we didn't know what to do 'cept hold on to those good ones. They had to start teaching it all over again. The only thing I’m glad to say is the next one won't get these. Sometimes though, I feel someone did this just so we wouldn't ever want to do a war again. Billy was a strong boy, with good memories, but the ones he hated are some of my worst. What good is there in a man where a world can change him in an instant? Where Heaven comes too early to let you get fall away to hell. Though I did not come out the worse, since my memories stopped on my twentieth birthday. The ones that had I caught were there to stay. The leeches were was well, the dark ones that sucked out of me what only a man can take. I am still not as worse as some of the ones who made it out, though I have heard that you get good memories still after. Where as mine started with fire and ended in ash. ", "Imagine if you could live through being born. I mean I know everyone lives through being born but I was there I was just there I…. I ... ok I suppose i'm not making very much sense i'm in a bit of shock. I just came out of some girls womb, a young girl sixteen or so it was awful, no wonder the first thing babies do is cry. I did, more than I would like to admit. I was so confused so tired. Am so confused and tired actually. And extreamly tired of crying I just want it to stop. For everything to stop. Now i'm in a crib in a hospital trying to calculate how this is possible I remember the crash, sirens throbbing pain than nothing. I was old I mean I wouldn't say old I was 78 my names was charles wheeler. I dont know why but these memories wont stop crashing against the sides of my head. All I know is my vocal cords aren't developed my legs are practically mush and there were just a bunch of strangers whom I suppose were doctors washing me! Then started the beging to carry me then everyone was carrying me and i'm crying and there telling me its ok but its not because i'm an old man! now i'm a baby girl! And my mind is flooded with the need to find Amy and Greg and Burt and I need to see them but I dont even know where I am or how I got here or if I can trust the people who I suppose will take me with them to who knows where!\n\nIts been about a year. I can still remember most everything i'm still incaged in this miniscule body. Sarah and Emma my mothers are very kind but I miss my old friends my wife and my old body. Although I do feel a bit refreshed being young again. Iv olmost of gotten used to it. Every day I try to speak I get closer and closer I remember being in a chorus at a church or maybe temple in my past life so I should be able to speak sooner that most. Or thats what im hoping. Also when I tell Sarah and Emma that I happen to be the only person in the entire world who remembers there past life there going to freak there very catholic. It goes against everything they both think!\n\nI'm two years old i can finally talk and walk properly but think i'm talking gibberish when i try to tell them about my old life and i'm forgetting lots about it. a lot of things. i can't even remember my wife name and what it feels like to be a guy and i have an odd liking to princesses.\n\ni'm tre yeo old i wuv moms i want mommy weo mommy weeee. ohhh bobel.", "I literally only started writing about 2 weeks ago.. so sorry. I liked this and just typed, hope it makes sense.. lol\n\n--\n\nWhen I was 17 I started having strange dreams, vivid dreams. I dreamt of a white glow, there was nothing else, just a white glow. It was strange, because I felt so lucid. I had control over my body, my movements. Over a course of several months I continued dreaming the same dream, only that white glow seemed to get thinner every night I saw it.\n\nFirst of all I could see shapes, I knew there was something there. Even though I tried to walk towards those shapes, I never got any closer, like walking towards a rainbow it remained the same distance away. I told my parents about it but they didn't help. \"Those are some exciting dreams you're having, son,\" my father would say, feigning interest.\n\nAfter a few more weeks and a couple more \"white glow dreams\" I was able to make out details. I knew I could see a person in the distance, a little girl. She had natural red hair, like the colour of flames, and always a welcoming smile. It felt like she knew me. Like I should know her.\n\nYet again, after a few weeks and some more dreams there was more detail. I could hear her voice, the typical sweet voice of a little girl. However her words sounded muffled, they echoed like she was speaking to me from the far side of a large empty hall. The dreams continued like this for another month or 2, nothing getting any clearer. I tried speaking to her, hoping that the contact would end the dreams and I could go back to dreaming about normal things but it didn't work.\n\nThen one night, I thought it was the same dream all over again. As always I tried speaking, hoping if she could hear me, maybe I'd be able to hear her.\n\n\"Mike,\" she said, \"come play for a while, it's not that warm!\"\n\nThose words came through clear as day, it was a revelation. I tried to call back, \"I'm not Miiiiii..\" when I was suddenly sucked in towards the glow. If you can imagine the feeling of being drawn into a black hole, that's how it felt. And with this feeling came floods of memories, flashbacks, as if it were my own life.\n\n\"Mike, you want to come down to the river and play on the swing again?\" she asked me, the events of that day rushed into my mind. Playing on the old tyre, tied to the tree branch, our \"swing\". I knew her dad had helped us make it. I knew the tyre was an old one from his red Ford. I knew we were in southern California. I could picture the town we lived in so clearly I could draw an accurate map. Memories just kept coming, like a never ending train of information. The days we travelled to school together. The time I was moved into her class. The day she fell off her chair in that class. The day she brought me behind the school building during lunch and kissed me. My first kiss. The shock I felt, as an 10 year old would feel after his best friend just kissed him. The car ride home in the soaring heat. The windows down, the air hitting my face. And the moment we collided with a truck. The darkness.\n\nI woke up that instant, my heart beating a million beats per minute. A cold sweat, dripping down my forehead. Tears ran down my face, I felt something that I had never before felt in my 17 years... my 27 years. I had knowledge in my brain that wasn't there before, memories that weren't there before, a family and a name that wasn't there before. It was truely impossible how I could know all this, surely it was just a dream? But it was a dream like no other that belonged to string of dreams like I had never experienced before." ]	3
	[WP] In a world where everyone had a watch that said how long you have left to live, you board a plane. When it takes off, everyones watch is set to 20 minutes	[ "Constantine glanced at his watch - 337242 hours and 37 minutes left. It was a recent invention. He thought back to the days before the accursed device came along. \n\n\"Would you rather know exactly when you were going to die?\", a friend had asked on a slow school day.\n\n\"It depends... How would it work? Would I be virtually immortal until the appointed time? Or would the time I had left change with every decision I made? I suppose it doesn't matter. After all, life's unpredictability is the only thing that keeps it interesting. It's not as if I plan to live till a ripe old age. 'It's better to burn out than to fade away', right? I'm perfectly fine with dying at any time.\" \n\nYet here he was, 20 years later, wearing a watch that told you how long you had to live. \n\nHe had received it as a birthday gift and decided to try it out of curiosity. It was amusing - at first. But soon, Constantine found himself constantly checking his watch. His newfound knowledge had his heart gripped with fear. He had thought that knowing when he was going to die would be liberating. Instead, he found himself trying to extend his hours and in doing so, he didn't live. He was merely a shell of the man that he had been in the days before the accursed device. He knew this and yet, he was powerless to do anything about it.\n\nConstantine was snapped out of his thoughts by a voice over the intercom, \"Good morning, this is your Captain speaking. Welcome aboard the flight. We are just about to take off, so, buckle in and enjoy the flight.\" \n\nAs the plane lifted off the ground, Constantine glanced at his watch and his eyes grew wide as he read it - 0 hours and 20 minutes left. He turned to his neighbour and saw a similar mixture of fear and shock reflected on his face. An unnatural silence fell on the plane as its passengers started noticing that they all had 20 minutes left.\n\n\"We're going to crash and die,\" Constantine said quietly and all hell broke loose. \n\nChaos. \n\nPeople screaming and crying.\n\nThe couple across the aisle from Constantine embraced and made love for the last time.\n\n\"I'm not going to die a virgin!\" exclaimed a young man who proceeded to savagely attack a flight attendant. \n\nBehind him, Constantine heard, \"Our Father who art in heaven...\" \n\nThe man next to Constantine was on the phone with his wife. He was sobbing uncontrollably and Constantine was sure that the man's wife could not understand a single word he was saying.\n\nThrough it all, Constantine simply sat there - silent and unmoving. All he could think about was how he had wasted his life. In his final moments, he had an epiphany. There was no point in fearing the inevitable.\n\nConstantine glanced at his watch. It seemed that even at the end he was still bound by the curse of the watch. \n\n5 seconds left. At that exact moment, reality set in. \n\nHe started screaming.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nBut it was too late.", "In all honesty, when I got my watch on my eighteenth birthday I was a little disappointed. It was a black, somewhat chunky device with a cheap looking plastic strap. I half expected it to be analogue but with the least contented sigh of relief, I turned it over to see four zeros in pulsating red light. The boy across the road from me had turned eighteen only the month before, but his watch had been sleek and shiny. Why couldn’t mine be like that? It’s held up pretty well these last ten years. A few marks here and there, the glass of the digital display is a little foggier than it once was. But still the light of those four numbers glows strong.\n\nDad had been driving me and my sister back home when his watch let out a long drawn-out beep. I don’t think at that age I fully understood what that meant, and why my dad stayed in the car when we got to our house. I watched him from the front door for a while. He screamed at the watch, hitting the car’s steering wheel over and over. My sister was scared, I wasn’t. He wouldn’t show us the watch or what it said or why he was crying, but as he finally walked into the house I managed to sneak a look at his wrist: the watch had given him 45 minutes. Luckily, my mum had gotten away from work earlier than usual so she was there when we got back. My mum and dad spent a long time by themselves sat on the stairs, their heads together, muttering things quietly between them. My sister and I were flopped on the couch watching some cartoons when my dad came in and kissed us softly on the forehead. Twenty minutes later he was dead on the kitchen floor. He’d had a massive heart attack – information that my mum only told me and my sister years later. He left me his watch in his will, but by that point it had already been taken back from the family. It didn’t belong to us anymore.\n\nI’ve only been unfortunate enough to see somebody run out of time twice in my life. The second time I was in my last year of college when my roommate woke me up in the middle of the night, pointing a trembling finger at his watch. It was counting down from 13 minutes and 52 seconds. I tried to calm him down, I even tried to pry the watch off of him, as if that would help in some way but he wouldn’t listen to me. He was completely unhinged. He woke up the entire dorm with his screaming. I sort of knew what was going to happen. It almost seemed obvious when he climbed onto the frame of the open window. Horrifying, but obvious. The last thing I saw him do was rip the watch from his wrist and chuck it into our room behind him. I thought for a moment he had listened to me and was ridding himself of the device. But then he tumbled out into the darkness and a moment later the screams of the passers-by below started drifting through the window. His watch beeped for a solid few seconds. I picked it up off the carpet just as the digital display froze on 09:13. It beeped once more and reset to 00:00. I suppose he should be congratulated for having beaten the clock by nine minutes. Not every day you see that.\n\nFor the most part, worldwide, the watches are working. Everything seems a lot more comfortable. Fewer crowded city centers, less pollution, more food to go around; even crime, for some reason, has started dropping. It was a weird state of mind for the every person in the world to be in. We always knew we were going to die and that it could happen at any second of any day. Except now we had a watch to tell us that. You never knew when it would activate or how much time it would give you but you just knew that this was it. The only way is down.\n\nMy watch activated fifteen minutes ago. We’d just taken off and everybody in the plane was still buckled to their seats. The beeping started rattling around the cabin of the plane like a swarm of bees. I didn’t even think about the watches, the noise was paralysing me. As everybody in my row of seats started to look at their watches, I realised mine was beeping too. For the first time in my life, it read something other than four zeros: 19:49, and counting. The only way is down. For a good few minutes, there was nothing but panic and crying. 17:26. The stewardess, whose watch was also now ticking, managed to shut everybody up. She stood at the front of the plane like a teacher with an out-of-control classroom. She asked us, by a show of hands, to tell her whose watch was at 17 minutes. Everybody raised their hands. We were all ticking the same time. Not only that, but we were all perfectly synched. All accept one. As I write this, that one person is sat at the very front of the plane, being screamed at and interrogated by other passengers. It’s sick. I thought I might try and do something about it, but I just can’t. His clock is ticking too, but his says 01:13:23. The watch gave him over an hour. That’s just not fair. But people are just scared so they’re taking it out on him. I wonder why his watch is set so long, and if he’ll make it to the end. I don’t suppose I’ll ever find out. All our watches are on 03:16 now. I thought I might have enough time to write something down and upload it before whatever happens happens. I always wondered how they knew. How they knew when we were going to die, or if they’re controlling it, how they do it in the first place. I want anybody reading this to know that I’m not scared. I’m not even angry that I’m the one dying, or that I’m alone and miles from home. I know what has to be done. I understand that this plane was targeted, that I was targeted for a reason. It’s that reason alone that makes all of this okay. This is the way it has to be. 02:03. Soon everybody on this plane will be part of a number that future generations read out when they talk about how the world was saved, and that’s good. I’ve always wanted to be remembered for something.\n\n00:34 There’s smoke in the cabin now", "As we take off from the ground the numbers on my watch begin to descend towards zero. Not that this is anything new, everyone’s watch does that. They are meant to tell when a person is going to die after all. It’s the speed mine is falling at that really gets me. It plummets faster and faster, just a blur of numbers until it stops dead on twenty. My pulse slows as i stare at the two blue digits shining up at me. This isn’t so bad; maybe it will be something simple like a heart attack. Maybe I’ll go to sleep and just never wake up. Then the girl next to me starts to cry. The pilot comes on over the loud speakers, his voice thick and choked as he apologizes again and again. \n\nMy watch clicks to nineteen in unison with the rest of the plane. A man further back begins to curse loudly. An old lady across the aisle from me is consoling what must be her daughter. The younger woman is breaking down, her words more incoherent gibberish than true speech. The older lady has the whitest hair I’ve ever seen. The type of snow white I always hoped my hair would turn.\nAnother click. Only eighteen minutes left. It seems a huge oversight to make these things click every minute for the last thirty. It’s unnerving to hear a plane full of the things click in unison. That and it’s a reminder of what’s to come.\nClick. It isn’t until seventeen that the screaming truly begins. Honestly I assumed it would start earlier. I thought for sure after the pilots choked apologize we would get to the screaming, yet none came. Sure most people were crying or praying or both, but I was starting to believe we would all meet our end with a little dignity until seventeen.\n\nClick. Click. Click. Click. It’s still going. The last four clicks have done nothing to end the hysterics which are wearing on me. My Zen like mood left me three and a half clicks ago. I was all ready to die like a philosopher, contemplating the morbid beauty of it all as the plane took us to our final destination. After four minutes of this none stop screaming though I’m angrier at everyone else for making my last minutes unbearable.\nClick. Number thirteen comes like a gift from god as it bring the pilots voice with it. He tells everyone to please be quiet so people can call their families. The poor man has to repeat it several times but at last blissful quiet returns. The woman next to me calls her son, it takes her a few try’s to get the words out, but she manages it in the end. The old ladies daughter calls her husband. She’s still barely comprehensible but at least she manages to use real words this time. All the while the clicking never changes its steady rhythm. \nThe old lady across from me offers me a cigarette. I don’t smoke but I take it all the same. The plane quiets to a whisper of conversation as we reach the single digits. I watch the glowing end of my cigarette burn further and further. The clicking continues. The engines stall. We begin to fall towards the ground. I don’t take my eyes from the glowing ember. This isn’t how I planned to go, but my pulse has slowed back down, and no one’s screaming anymore. Honestly it isn’t so bad.\n", "000/00/00/20/00\n\nFuck.\n\nYou know that feeling when you drive too fast over a bump and your heart jumps into your throat? That instant cold feeling and then all of the sudden you start to sweat? I think it's some kind of natural reaction dating back to when we were cavemen. We didn't have time to assess a situation. We had to have an instinctual response so that we could run and hide, and survive. Well right now my instinctual response has paralysed me to my seat. 30,000 feet up, on flight A592 to New Mumbai, and I'm staring down at my wrist, not able to take my eyes off of my VIT device. 19/58…57…56…55. Before I boarded this plane my VIT was set to years. I'm 26 and I had 60 years on my clock. Now I have 20 fucking minutes??\n\nLooking around, a few people are beginning to look at their VITs and I can feel the panic rising in this now suddenly claustrophobic-rich environment.\n\nAs people begin to stir in their seats. A calm, authoritative voice begins to speak loudly from the back of the cabin and, turning my head almost in slow-motion, see a man standing between the aisles covered in explosives and holding a detonator.\n\n---\n\n\"Welcome aboard. We are now 39,000 feet above the Bay of Bengal. As you may have noticed-\" He said, calmly lifting his wrist to check his own device, \"your VITs have reset themselves to run out in less than 19 minutes. Don't you just love technology? Don't you just love the way your VIT devices updated to reflect your situation? So…methodically, so without passion. These machines have given up on you. How do they know what will happen?\n\nNow I know what some of you may be thinking. 20 minutes is an awfully long time to wait to die. Why not just blow up the plane now? Well… what would that accomplish? And besides, I have a few things I want to do before I die. Strange, how my VIT updated to give me this countdown as soon as I decided on this plan. Quite a piece of technology. Interesting that a VIT would reflect a man's decision to commit suicide. Have you ever thought to wonder how a VIT gets it's end date? I believe they are tied to emotion. I decided to end my life on a world stage, and my VIT happily complied. Giving me just enough time to bring me to this point. \n\nSome of you may have noticed that my VIT is connected to the detonator of this bomb. Taking into account what I have said about the VIT device. I would assume that the timer on the bomb directly correlates with my emotional state, and how long I believe I will live. I also believe that under extraordinary levels of stress, VITs will synchronise with those around them.\n\nSo I have one question, and bearing in mind your collective emotional state, I want you to think very, very carefully.\n\nDo you want to die?\"", "My L-watch sang a note, and so did every other L-watch on the plane. Each note was subtly different, creating a beautiful yet harrowing symphony, ending as abruptly as it began. In a following silence, a baby started crying.\n\nI looked at my wrist. As of that moment, I had 20 minutes to live.\n\n\"This is captain speaking. As you can see, the Institute of the Divine Will had just revealed a new part of God's plan -- one that was previously unknown to them. The details and reasons are still hidden, but it is known that everyone present will perish in 20 minutes.\n\nPlease avoid panic and try to spend your last minutes wisely. Captain out.\"\n\nI was sweating. Of course everyone knew sudden changes happened sometimes — full extent of divine will was not to be known, and the science of it was as hard as quantum mechanics, if not harder. A student might spend two days on complex math, suddenly realizing he only learned a reason for a single leaf to fall.\n\n\"It is for the best\" said a guy sitting to my right. \"We can try to understand it, but in the end it is all a part of the plan.\" He was wearing a ridiculously out-of-place Christmas sweater and huge glasses.\n\nI looked at him without understanding a word. 20 minutes left. 20 minutes. \nAnd so much not done, and Lin waiting for me in the city, still waiting after all we went through.\n\n\"There should be a parachute somewhere\". The thought was ridiculous, but once it appeared I just couldn't lose it. Of course, L-watch was pretty clear about my potential success. And according to some people I will absolutely guarantee myself damnation if I even try to save myself — though I believe that all such attempts must be a part of the plan as well. \n\nSo I thought about things undone, ignored the guy with glasses, and then used in-flight wifi to find where the parachutes might be in a plane like this. Then I went and got one. Of course nobody tried to stop me. It seemed that most people believed in doctrine that promised damnation to survivors. And some of more reasonable ones just found panic undignified.\n\nBy the time it was down to five minutes, I finally had the parachute strapped on and ready to go. Stewardess was happy to help me, though she moved a bit like a zombie, probably still in shock after L-watch update. It felt weird to go five minutes early, after all the old movies I was half expecting to get ready at the last possible second.\n\nBut of course I didn't wait. I thought about Lin, jumped and started counting.\n\nIn five minutes, the plane exploded. As it exploded, I saw glimpses of what happened, not with my eyes of course, but as experienced by the other passengers. A true vision — as rare as ball lightning, and only slightly better understood. In it, I saw the sweater guy standing up, lifting his sweater, and all the wires underneath. \"The sinners will be cleansed by flames\" he said \"and so I am the divine will manifest, the angel of death\". And the fire bloomed.\n\nAs I was falling, still early to open the parachute, my L-watch sang. The note was hopeful and clear. \nI looked at my wrist to see it empty -- no number at all. I wondered what it meant. \n\nBut it felt full of promise." ]	5
	[WP] All your life, you've been helped with the voice in your head. When you wake up one day, it's gone.	[ "Beams of light shone through my window into my room through the gray clouds that loitered lazily across the sky: another overcast day in an otherwise deary life.\n\nI rolled over and looked at my alarm clock, which was partially obscured by empty liquor bottles. \n\n8:18AM. The alarm hadn’t gone off. Had I forgot to set it? Oh well. Fuck it, maybe today was the day I would finally quit and tell my bitch of a boss, Julie, to find someone else to bully. Yeah, and maybe I’d even sign the divorce papers. Maybe today I would finally just give up.\n\nI chuckled to myself and waited for the customary rebuttal to support how foolish I was being. How I needed the job, or the money, or the security. Or that maybe today would be the day that Amanda would come back with our son after she had seen how well I was doing.\n\nBut nothing came.\n\nUsually by now I would have already started talking myself into reasons to go in to work, to persevere. My inner self, conscience, gut, or whatever you would call it, always kicked in eventually. But today he was missing. I stared across the room at the bottle of Prozac next to the half empty glass of Crown.\n\nI pushed on; sure that further prompting would resuscitate the rational part of my brain.\n\nI got out of bed and opened the window to my fifth story apartment. Cold November air washed over my skin, refreshing me with new life. I could hear the whip of arctic wind and the buzz of traffic below.\n\nI stepped out onto the fire escape and waited for the return of the deep chasm of worry and regret I was so accustomed to. The only thing I felt was calm. Why had I held on so long, even when the world was crashing around me? Why had I stayed at a job I hated, or given Amanda a second chance after cheating, only to have her leave me? Why had I played along so willingly, even while I hated myself for doing it? What was I so afraid of?\n\nI leaned over the edge of the railing and looked at the dots of traffic and pedestrians as they passed by. It was overwhelming, watching them all moving and doing something with their lives. For a moment I considered going back and writing a note but decided against it. I needed to do this, and I needed to do it now. I took a deep breath and climbed onto the railing, pausing for a moment, waiting for some final forethought from my frontal lobe.\n\nThen I jumped. \n\nAnd for the first time in years, I felt alive.", "Silence. The first thing that struck me. Only myself in charge. There was no voice commanding me to get up or to concentrate on the tasks for that day, only silence.\n\n Meandering slowly to the kitchen I wondered how this changed things. No more instructions or opinion being spoken. No help with my predicament, I hoped I would chose well.\n\n The hum of the coffee machine clawed at the edges of the tranquility which had enveloped the air. My mind wandered to my current situation, there was still time to turn back, for no one to know. Was I right? The voice in my head had been so comforting and reassuring that it was the only course of acton left, the right option, the one everyone would have wanted. Now though, when he was silenced, the doubt returned. \nI looked at the packet of pills on the bedside table, I remembered how sure he had been that it was wrong to take them, how the pills were not going to benefit or change anything. Those instructions had turned to pleading, begging in desperation to be allowed to stay and not be silenced. Eventually last night I compromised an took half the dose along with the regular sleeping medication. I wondered how long it would last.\n\nThe coffee sharpened reality with the burn as it traveled down my throat, the time was near. \nI left out the back door and started the walk to the shed, prepared for whatever the outcome was. The crisp morning air feeling sharp to breathe. Inside the damp cloying smell tugged at my senses, the doubt grew. I looked at the rope, the chair, the letter. The voice still remained silent. I began to think of everyone inside still asleep, unknowing to my turmoil. Why was I doing this? The voice remained absent in protesting against my doubts. I looked at my watch, Karen had got me it for my birthday, before the accident. I thought of her and how she would wake up alone in half an hour, questioning where I was. I remembered the look on her face after I opened up to her about the voice, its plans and orders. She wanted to help me but would I be betraying him? He who had been a constant voice for the past 5 months, to back out on his plan now? \n\nA different voice pierced my reflection. Karen's. I could hear the worry as she shouted my name. \nI climbed up on the chair as I pocketed the letter. No guidance but my own. More lost than ever, but I knew I had decided now.\n \nI untied the rope. \n ", "You awake at 9:00 AM. Work is at 10, so you quickly get dressed and into your uniform. You don't take a shower because you took one last night. You go to the bathroom to brush your teeth and catch a yourself in the mirror. Your hair is messy and you look unkempt. You splash some water on your face, then your hair and pat it down. You spit and rinse. \n\nYou can't remember where you put your keys. They are on your nightstand. You quickly grab your keys, run down the hall, and hop in your old Camry. You forget to lock the door. You hop out of your car and lock the door to your apartment.\n\nAs you drive to work you think of anything you might have forgotten. You didn't forget anything today. You take a right on 4th Street and then a left onto East Boulevard. About halfway down East Boulevard you take a right and head down that road for 5 minutes. You arrive at work just in time. You punch in and greet Julie, your coworker who you have a crush on. She smiles and asks you about your weekend. You tell her how you hit the bar with Joe and Charles Saturday night and lounged around the rest of the weekend. She laughs and tells you about her weekend. You laugh when she laughs. You smile at her and tell her you have to get to work.\n\nYou are busing tables today. You get to your first table and clear the dishes and cups expertly as you have been doing for the past 3 months. Your mind goes on autopilot as you complete your work for the day. You interact with your coworkers very little throughout the day because you have that promotion in mind and want your manager to see your work ethic. Towards the end of the work day he notices and asks you if you would like to wait tables. He says he'll give you a raise if you can prove your worth. You enthusiastically accept. \n\nYou punch out your card and say good-bye to Julie. You drive home. You go back the way you came. You go left on East Boulevard, right on a 4th Street, and you then you arrive home.\n\nIt is 6:20 PM. You drop your keys on your desk. You go on your computer and write some of your novel before deciding to text Julie and ask her what she is doing. You have a pleasant conversation with Julie, using all the appropriate emoticons and responses to increase her affection towards you. Slowly you will work up the courage to ask her out. After watching a few shows on Netflix you head to bed. You set your alarm earlier this time so you can take a shower in the morning. You brush your teeth and take off your uniform. You will sleep in your boxers tonight. You curl up into bed and get comfortable in your sheets. You drift off quickly, not realizing how different your life will be when you awake.\n\n* \n\nI wake up to my alarm at 9:03 AM. I feel different today, but I can't put my finger one it. Slowly I roll out of bed. I can't remember if I showered last night, but since I have time I decide I should take one. I hobbled out of bed, feeling unusually groggy and nearly trip over a pair of pants on the ground. \n\nI feel the cold tile on my feet as I walk into the bathroom. I never noticed how it felt before. I study myself in the mirror. I look at my brown hair, my stubble, my blue eyes. I watch myself, fascinated. For the first time, I noticed myself, my good qualities, my flaws. I really noticed my flaws. I don't like the way I look. Usually I just fix myself best I can and move on, but today, again, I feel so weird. I run my hand across the smooth counter and over the silver sink. I step onto the bathroom rug and feel the softness under my feet.\n\nI turn on the shower and struggle to get it the right temperature. Eventually, I get it to an acceptable temperature, even though it is a little cold. I get in the shower.\n\nI step out after I'm done, again feeling the soft rug and water drip off my body. I dry off and wrap the towel around my waist. I walk to my room and put on my uniform. I check my phone for messages. One message from Julie popped up. It reads:\n\n>I think I really like you. We should go out for drinks Wednesday :)\n\nMy heart skipped a beat. Wow. She likes me. How can I look at her at work today? I feel so off. I think about calling in sick, but since I just got promoted yesterday I decide against it. The time is 9:18 AM now. \n\nI reach for my keys on my nightstand, but they aren't there. Where did I put them? I can't remember. I scour the house for my keys, wasting precious time. Much later I find them. They were on my desk where I put them last night. It was 9:33 AM now. I ran out the door and down the hall. The hallway smells really stale and the air is stuffy. But when I run out the front door of my building, my lungs are filled with cold crisp air that attacks my lungs. Quite the contrast. I nearly slip down the stairs, but catch myself. \n\nI open my car door and slam it shut after I get inside. My leather seat feels too cold, so I put on the heater. I drive onto the road and forget where I'm going. I know I'm going to work, but where is it? I pull out my phone to put it in the GPS, but... I can't remember the name of the place I work. It just doesn't come to me. I pull over on the side of the road. Calling Julie seems like my only option.\n\nThe phone rings twice before she picks up.\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"H-Hey, Julie. What was the name of our restaurant again? I'm having, like, a brain fart over here.\"\n\n\"Oh, um. Munchin' Junction. You've worked here for 3 months.\" She's laughing. \"Are you messing with me?\"\n\n\"Uh, yep! I really just w-wanted to talk to you before work.\"\n\nShe giggles. \"Okay, well you better get here soon. You're gonna be late.\"\n\n\"Alright. I'll, uh, be there soon.\"\n\nClick\n\nI type \"Munchin' Junction\" in on my phone's GPS. The time is now 9:42 AM. The GPS tells me where to go. As it blurts out directions, my eyes start to well up with tears. I don't know why, but I begin to feel the bad kind of nostalgia, the kind where you just want to go back. I can't put my finger on what I'm remembering that's making me so sad. I wipe away my tears and focus on the road. I go the wrong way on accident a couple times and end up arriving at work at 10:01 AM.\n\nI open the double doors and punch in my card. Julie is lingering near the kitchen. She notices me.\n\n\"Oh, hey!\" Her eyes light up as she sees me. I finally notice her. She's breathtaking. Her light brown hair is done up in a bun. She has no makeup on from what I can see except a small amount of eyeliner around her eyes. They bring out her bright green eyes. Her lips are curl up into a smile revealing perfect white teeth and bringing her dimples into view. Her cheek bones aren't particularly high on her face, but just around the middle. A few strands of hair drape down over her thin shoulders. Her black apron is tied taut around her waist. \n\nI take a minute to myself as I experience her appearance for what feels like the first time. \n\n\"Are you okay?\" she asks. She looks genuinely concerned.\n\n\"I'm fine. I just-- you look really nice today,\" I manage to say.\n\nShe smiles and pushes those strands of hair back. \"Thanks.\" She clears her throat. \"Aren't you waiting tables today? You should talk to the manager.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah. I should do that.\" I turned away, then stopped. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. \"I'd love to get drinks with you tomorrow night.\"\n\nShe grinned. \"Really? Awesome! I figured since you didn't reply you maybe didn't want to.\"\n\n\"No, no! I fell asleep. I'm also having an off day today.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you seem kind of different today. More... spacey. Like... you're always on the move doing something, but you just seem different.\" I look down. \"It's not a bad thing. I'm sure it's just an off day. You'll feel better tomorrow.\" She smiles. The butterflies do back-flips in my gut.\n\nI nod and go talk to the manager. I trip on the way, and hit my head on the wall.\n\n* \n \nYou're clumsy. You hurt your chances with Julie by coming on too strong, showing too much interest. You feel bad, but you know as long as you follow instructions you can win her back. Your head hurts but you ignore it. You get up from the floor and look at Julie who is laughing at you. You laugh it off saying how clumsy you are. \n\nYou go to your manager and ask him about your new position, apologizing profusely for being one minute late. He accepts your apology, telling you to not let it happen again. He puts you with Bobby, who shows you how to wait tables. You already know what to do, and you surpass him in every way. Your manager is very impressed. At the end of the day you have made a considerable amount of tips. You say good bye to Julie. She seems to interact differently with you than usual. You decide you must have messed things up more than you thought this morning. You punch out and get in the car.\n\nYou go a different route than this morning. You feel you have gotten your bearings back. You go left on East Boulevard, right on a 4th Street, and you then you arrive home. It is 6:20 PM. \n\nYou get home and realize you didn't lock the door. You also realize you didn't brush your teeth this morning. You feel more comfortable now, but also a little sad. You felt a certain freedom this morning that you have never felt in your life. You liked it, but now you realize that work needs to be done. Life goes on. \n\nYou text Julie to apologize for your actions this morning. Surprisingly she replies saying she didn't mind. She liked it in fact. She says you were more natural and less \"robotic\". You are confused but shrug it off and change the subject to drinks tomorrow. You make plans to meet at the bar at 8:00 PM.\n\nYou feel tired so you decide to go to bed early. You brush your teeth, remove your clothes and go straight to bed, ignoring the softness of your pillow and the warmth of your blanket. You sleep to recharge and that's it. \n\n--\n\nYou wake up at 9:00 AM.\n\n\n\n", "...\n\n....\n\nWhat is happening. I don't get it. I can't think. Literally. I fell asleep last night dreading tomorrow's exam. But now I can't think. I can carry vague notions, like what told me to turn on the computer and get to the keyboard. I can still speak, and being able to type indicates I still know how to think. But when I try to think, nothing's there. So... I guess I just type my thoughts. What the hell happened?\n\nI'm used to thinking each word as I type so this is exceptionally weird. But I need to think. I'm human. And apparently I need to type it. This must be a bad dream?\n\nNo, at worst it'd be a nightmare. But I think this is reality. I couldn't dream up these posts on the front page of reddit. Which I REALLY shouldn't be checking right now. Back to the topic at hand. But... I mean, what can I do? I doubt I can get to sleep without that little period of deep thought. Maybe it's still a dream. I pinch myself, and it hurts. The slap doesn't help.\n\nWell, what else can I do? I have no idea. No one would believe me. There's only one hope. I can do what I always do when I don't know something and post it on reddit. It's a long shot, but maybe someone on writing prompts can help me...\n\nWait what there's a voice. In my head but I'm not thinking. I try to speak, and it says it can't hear. Only see. It's laughing. GET OUT OF MY HEAD! I know it'll be empty then but I don't want to think why you're there. Yes, I KNOW I can't think. So you say you just want to think for me? That sounds an awful lot like mind control. No, there's no choice. I can't just ignore what's in my head. Just give me my mind back. What do you want? You want.... my mind? You've stolen my thoughts? You feed on them? I hear the slurping... the laughing.\n\nThen silence. Come out! Please! I beg you.\n\n...\n\nI think it's gone. I can't think what to do...\n\n\nSomeone help." ]	4
So, imagine an alien space ship landing on earth and peaceful communications follow. Translators learn their language, and soon after learning of their culture, they describe a math containing different properties than our known. Feel free to go wherever you want with this.	[WP] Aliens discover earth and during communications you learn that math is not universal.	[ "Bentley leaned forward in his chair leaning his face on upturned palms, pushing firmly into his eyes, casting flashing lights and green shapes chasing one another across the inside of his eyelids. With an exasperated sigh he leant back again and looked at the quivering shape sat across from him. His brow furrowed as he considered his companion and absentmindedly drew on his cigarette, wreathing the air around his head with a smoky blue halo.\n\n \n\n“Lets try this again, you are one”\n\n \n\n“Not one, Xgrak” came the cheerful reply. The wide green mouth widening into a ghastly mimicry of a smile, a gesture one of many learned over the last six months.\n\n \n\n“Yes, yes, you are Xgrak, but you are also one, that’s how many of you there are. The same as the apple, do you remember the apple?” Bentley asked trying to keep his voice calm as he butted his will against the indomitable ignorance of the grinning little alien across the desk.\n\n \n\n“Yes, apple good, much tasty” Xgrak was excited in his response, bouncing slightly in his chair as he began to regale Bentley with the assorted ways he loved this tasty Earth treat. \n\n \n\nBentley let his head drop again into his palms, counting his anger slowly in his head. Tamping down on the rising rage threatening to boil over into shouted inquisition regarding the pedigree of Xgraks parentage. Over and over it went, each time the same responses. One plus one was two, it was so simple, the basis of the whole goddamned Universe. But here sat this cheerful little fool, able to move flitting between the stars but still not able to even count to two. Useless.\n\n \n\nBentley waved Xgrak to silence and moved to the door. In the adjacent room a hunched coven of grey haired men waited. They had sat and watched Bentleys questioning, considered the responses of this visitor from beyond the stars.\n\n\n“Its no use” said Bentley as he sank into a waiting chair. Pausing momentarily to light another cigarette from the smoldering tip of the last. “He just doesn’t get it”.\n\n \n\nThe oldest of the grey haired men nodded his sympathy at Bentley’s exasperated tone. “We understand son, but you have to work out how. We have to know how many of these bloody bastards there are, we need to know how many might just decide to come visit if the mood so takes them. The safety of the entire planet depends on it”.\n\n \n\nBentley nodded slightly in agreement, frustration writ deep in tired lines carved into his face. “Ok, just give me a moment and I will try again”.", "The green man from another planet was visibly nervous. Understandably, of course. He wasn't used to having the laws of physics be so insistent on only one interpretation. Right now, that interpretation was downwards.\n\nNormally, in day to day life, gravity was not really much of an issue. But when you are in a spacecraft hurtling towards the ground at increasing speed, it jumps higher on your list of things to worry about.\n\nAll screens were on fire with warnings:\n\n\"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \n\"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \n\"Anomaly drive offline\"\n\n\"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \n\"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \n\"Internal diagnostic test failed\"\n\n\"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \n\"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \n\"Abnormal amount of consistency detected\"\n\nIn all his years travelling the galaxy, he had never experienced a failure like this. This planet had been marked as a restricted area but that usually that just meant it was a nature preserve. Never anything like this. Perhaps it had not been a good idea to jump straight into their atmosphere after all..\n\nHe looked out his front windshield at the small blue and green planet. The planetary databanks had marked this as an undeveloped planet. But that could not possibly be correct. They must be a very powerful race to extend such a large physics manipulation field around the planet. Even the small field he projected around his ship could not compensate.\n\nWith a clunk, his math manipulation field collapsed and he became fully influence by the planet's math field. 3 minutes until impact, his computer chirped out happily. It also offered a helpful list of normal pre-planetfall activities that lasted 3 minutes such as have a cup of tea or have the local favorite travel snack named \"pretzels\".\n\nOn an hunch, he diverted all manipulation energy into communications and sent out an emergency query into the dataverse. One single hit came back. A prank. A device left on the planet 3000 years ago that enforced a single mathematical causality onto the hapless residents. \n\n2 minutes until impact. If he could only locate the device and deactivate it, he would survive. A planet-wide sweep produced no energy signatures. Of course, this was in the causality of the device. It would be undetectable.\n\n1 minute until impact. He had one last chance. He broadcast the prankster's name over subspace, hoping it was the password to turn the device off. Nothing.... and then his craft began to slow down.\n\n\"2+2=4\" \"2+2=5\" \"2+2=6\" \"2+2=7\" \"2+2=8\" \n\"2+2=9\" \"2+2=10\" \"2+2=11\" \"2+2=12\" \"2+2=13\" \n\"Systems abnominal. Systems online.\"\n\nA mere kilometer above the surface, the spacecraft flattened out. The math field had collapsed. He peered out the window at the city below him and wondered if they had even noticed. Wanting to get out of the area before anyone noticed his subspace message, he wrote a quick note in a language they could read then broadcast it to all channels he could think of.\n\n\"Math consistency device under pyramids deactivated. Please inquire to the galactic counsel with regards to the perpetrators\"\n\nWith that, he left the planet. They would thank him, he was sure.", "\"Math?\" The modulated, robotic voice seemed to be confused but the source of the question belayed no such emotion. \n\n\"Indeed. What lies before you is our knowledge of the field of Mathematics up until this point.\" The room of scientists, physicists, and mathematicians was quiet; they were anxious to learn. This was their first meeting with the strange being since it appeared. The religious nuts got to claim first encounter and after some heavy debate and planning they were convinced to the allow others to speak with it.\n\n\"I know nothing of Math.\" The answer was flat, straight forward and completely unbelievable. It didn't blink nor make any movements to give away any notion of its intentions.\n\n\"Math is universal,\" a man spoke up from his corner matter of factly,\"everything can be explained by it. Surely you are aware of that which rules our existence. We have all seen you're amazing feats, your powers. We simply want to understand how you can do those things. What is the math that allows such phenomenon to exist? Why won't you tell us?\" The man was yelling, fists clenched, standing now. His peers were wide eyed and sushing him, trying to prevent him from offending the alien.\n\n\"Existence is ruled by the Will of the Creator.\" Even through the speakers the voice sounded as matter of fact as the claim of math being universal.\n\n\"Don't give me that religious bullshit!\" The same man was practically screaming now. \"Those religious nuts already determined you are not God!\" The alien turned to face him, but he didn't stop. \"We don't yet know if your abilities are some form of natural biological act or some kind of technology, but we intend to find out!\"\n\n\"You misunderstand. You, are the Creator. It is by each of your wills that rules existence. Everything that I do, is by my Will. I am the Creator, my Will be done!\" Somehow the voice was no longer coming from the speaker but rather boomed throughout the room.\n\n\"Your Will has created logic, as my Will defies it!\"" ]	3
	[WP] A story that ends with the line "This is not the end. This is the beginning."	[ "The man with the camera jumped over the fence and the woman with the homemade riot shield did her best to cover him. But the shield was made of wood, and though it had been blessed by the pastor, it had no magical properties, and the bullets burst through it, pierced her leather jacket, entered her body, and blasted her vital organs to bits.\n\nThough her guts were filled with bullets, the protestor was at peace. She knew that what had happened here would been seen around the world. If there was any debate as to the government’s reasons for militarizing the police, tomorrow that debate would be over. The people would open their eyes and see that the tanks and the grenade launchers were not for their protection, but rather their pacification.\n\nA spotlight from a helicopter drifted over the scene, but it was too late, the man with the camera had vanished, and the protestor’s heart had stopped beating. She died with a grin on her face and one final thought: This is not the end. This is the beginning.\n", "\"This is not the end. This is the beginning.\"\n\nSometimes I look at the inside of my locket at night. Under the covers, using a flashlight, just to make sure it still says those words. I was so clever, so so clever, and now I never have to worry about anything ever again. I just need to wear the locket, and no harm will befall me. I will not die, nor grow ill. I don't age, or really need to sleep - I still do, though. And the locket goes with everything, too. Golden chain and a silver and gold outside, wrapped with silver wire around a heart. Inside, those words. A lifetime to live, forever mine. A beginning, with no end.\n\nThere is always a price, of course. This one was a piece of gold each day. I remember the ritual, the flickering flame as it spread across the circle of blood on the floor. It had taken me years to find the script to properly raise up a demon that could grant wishes, and this one asked for currency. I have a lifetime, though. I just need to be sure to never remove the locket, else the demon will return. \n\nI step out of bed, the chilly air raising goosebumps on my skin. My room, full of curios and riches interspersed with pictures of me during all sorts of historic events, is lit by the ornate candle holders that each hold a thin flame.\n\nAs I meet my reflection, I see instead the face of the demon. He is grinning. I look into his eyes. He wears a locket much like my own, although it is on a longer chain than mine.\n\nFunny, it didn't use to be longer than mine...\n\nFrantically, I look down at the locket in my hands, and read the inscription to myself, trying to pretend that everything is okay.\n\n\"This is not the end. This is the beginning.\"", "Looking down at my motionless, diminutive body, I realized the extent of my wounds. Mark held me down like a child and stabbed me over and over and over. There was no reason. Everything was red.\n\nTo my left, I saw a majestic white light. Heaven was inviting me and, at the time, I guess that's where I belonged. But to my right......I saw a dark, red tunnel. Somehow, I knew this was the path of revenge. I went right, and never looked back.\n\nAs I opened my eyes, I had but one thought, 'This is not the end. This is the beginning.'", "I lit my cigarette and looked at the window. It had begun the invasion of demons onto the planet. The sidewalks opened up and all hell literally broke loose. I blew out the smoke and watched them come up and immediately stop snatching people. Great big demons with red eyes and massive horns were destroying buildings. Little imps had started to attack people in massive swarms tearing the flesh from their bones. I put my cigarette out and grabbed my coat. My name is John Constantine and this is not the end. This is the beginning.", "They met when he was 6 and she was 9.\n\nFriends until college, where they danced and spilt wine.\n\nLiving life with romantic styles, \n\nthey were happy if not for just a little while.\n\nTime went on as it is wont to do,\n\nFour grown kids and 4 dead dogs after the calendars marked their anniversary year 42.\n\nHis eyesight growing bleary, her hearing getting hard,\n\nThey lay in bed in the winter of their lives, smiling faces hardly marred.\n\nThey felt it coming, the time was growing near.\n\nHe squeezed her hand and with eyes of fear\n\nHe whispered, \"Love, I do believe Death is winning\"\n\nand she kissed him and whispered back into his ear,\n\n\"This is not the end. This is the beginning.\"", "Standing in the Holotron, it was as if space president Rukia were only one earth meter in front of her. Today was the 100th anniversary of the last star dying out. Though everyone had long since realized how silly using earth years was with all the stars gone.\n\n\"We have proven ourselves in the hardships of the black and the human resolve can never be questioned.\" The commanding sound of her voice was the main reason she had been elected over fierce competition. \"The stars should have gone out 10 trillion years ago. But we kept them alive. Now, all that remains is dust.\"\n\nA well timed pause for effect. Patricia glanced around the room, filled with other journalists. Their attention was still entirely on the president. Typical.\n\n\"Humanity has had a long entry in the history books. We now enter a new chapter. We have always survived and we will continue to survive. We will find a way to reverse entropy and restore the stars and the night sky to their former glory.\"\n\nPatricia's ship, being a journalistic ship had windows along all the outside corridors. It provided good photo taking opportunities. HAD provided good photo taking opportunities. Now there was only darkness.\n\n\"This chapter should read of our bravery and our ingenuity. And the next chapter will read of how we overcame physics itself to start humanity's the legacy. We have so many more chapters to write. I hope you will write them with me.\"\n\n\"This is not the end. This is the beginning.\"", "Death waved a finger at me, inviting me to come join him. A being of white light did the same on the other side of me. I stood still, stuck between which one to choose. The light desired that I live, that I continue to go on in my broken body, one torn apart by violence and hatred. Death offered me mercy, the chance to be at peace.\n\nHow did I end up here, you might ask? It was a peaceful night with my family. And then the men broke into our house. Both of my children, bullets between the eyes. My wife didn’t last much longer, her broken smile falling onto the carpet in front of me as her blood gushed out. But I had reached one of the gunmen and was grappling with them.\n\nIf you’d believe it, the man had the nerve to look me right in the eye as he fired the gun, saying a few precious words I’ll never forget, as if he wasn't as evil as he seemed.\n\n“This is not the end. This is the beginning. I’m so sorry.”\n\nWith no family left to go back to, with a bullet lodged near my spine and paralyzing me from the waist down, why would I want to go back?\n\nI walked over to Death, the light hanging its head in sorrow. It wasn’t long until I had stabbed Death right where his heart should be and watched as he collapsed. Who would have thought? Death can die.\n\nThe light stared on in horror as I moved towards it, Death disintegrating into a fine black dust that flew through the air and surrounded me, engulfing me, and transforming me into Death itself. The light never had a choice. My black robes, now with a hint of red, walked through the portal he had opened. Death would live this very day, and he would seek out those who killed his family. The Hatred now apart of Death glowed red on the black robes.\n\nI awoke in the hospital. It took all I had to not destroy everything in sight, but some of my humanity was in tact, at least for now. The first one responsible for my family’s deaths was gone.\n\nThis is not the end. This is the beginning!\n\n-315" ]	7
	[WP] ''It's all about the train.''	[ "2030 Gare Du Nord, Paris\n\n'It's all about the train Eddy, get on it!'\nHis father's words rang violently through his head.\n\nChuff chuff. The crowd flocked to platform 13 with a harried panic. The track was empty; the moment, frenetic. \n\n'All first class travellers are to stand on the yellow line...'\n\nThe announcer had an air of pleasantness in his voice. \n\n'The rest.....stand by.'\n\nThe scoffs were palpable and clear from a mile away. Hordes of panic stricked citizens clambered to get on. The fires fuelled up into the air as the city descended into chaos, the virus had taken off.\n\nEddy, a skinny kid darted past the masses before entering the compact pit at the back of the train. He entered the baggage area.\n\nBefore he went into the train. \n\n1954 Gare Du Nord\n\nEddy came out and was flabbergasted by the setting; French ladies dressed in hats and dresses, men in overcoats and strap ons, all drinking whiskey and having a merry old time. \n\n'Degages fiston.'\n\nA burly man in his twenties, shoved Eddy out of the way, brusquely. He approached an elderly man by the corner of second class, he released a package;\n\n'Voila le medicin. You will need this in 2028.'\n\nEddy caught the corner of his eye. \n\n'That's him, the Time mole!' \n\nHe fetched another casket of medicine. \n\n'Take this back to your godforsaken future....'\n\nThe train left the Gare du Nord towards Versailles past the Dordogne. \n\n'Get off, back through the baggage area.'\n\nBut Eddy escaped, the lure of the French country was too much as the TGV roared past with the fate of humanity dwindling away towards La Periphique.", "I stood in front of the train tracks. I was ready. I was prepared. All I had to do was wait for the train and take a few more steps, and then it would all be over. All the pain and sorrow. Everything; gone. I saw the train approach.\n\n\"It's all about the train,\" I said as I took a step." ]	2
	[WP] I am your best friend. Convince me that I need to die.	[ "“We made a deal, me and you. You’re not the type to back out of a deal. That’s why you’re my friend. That’s why you’re my best friend.”\n\nThe snow was coming down heavy outside the cabin. The fireplace crackled, sending a spiral of dying flames towards the coffee table between them. On the table were four items; one 750ml bottle of Glenlivet 18-year-old Scotch whisky, one drinking glass for the man on the left, one drinking glass for the man on the right, one 44 caliber revolver with 2 rounds loaded into unknown chambers. \n\n“We were thirteen. We aren’t thirteen anymore. We’ll be dead soon enough, why do you still want to do this?”\n\n“I’m tired of being old. I knew I would back then and I was right. We’re 73 mate. What are we still holding on for? We had some good times. You maybe more than me, but I had my fair share of laughs. I’m tired now. I’m tired of not sleeping when I want to. I’m tired of sleeping when I don’t want to. I’m tired eating shit I don’t like. I’m tired of people looking at me like I need their help. I’m tired of needing their help. I’m tired of being old. I’m just plain tired…” \n\nHe finished what was left in his glass as his friend looked on through glassy, melancholy eyes. \n\nThe fire crackled again, this time the flames illuminated the faces of two very different men. One seemed much more aged than the other. His skin was lined with deep wrinkles. His hair was wispy and ghostly white, his shoulders slumped, and his eyes were dark and sunken in. The other maintained a regal posture. His hair was merely peppered white and his eyes were as alive as the fire that was reflected in them. \n\nOne old man picked up the 44 caliber revolver and positioned the muzzle firmly against his temple. \n\n“If this is it, what makes you think I’ll pick that revolver up after you?”\n\n“A promis—”\n", "\"Wait, what?\" Bill said, clearly shocked. \"What did you just say?\"\n\nSherry finished her drink, set the glass back on the table, and then glanced over at Bill. A tear started to form on the edge of her shimmering green eyes. \"I had a glimpse,\" she muttered, tears now streaming down her cheeks. \"If...if you don't kill yourself,\" She could hardly get the words out. \"Your wife and child die with you.\"\n\nThe whiskey tumbler Bill had been holding, and the whiskey it contained, slipped out of his hand. He saw it spinning in the air, as if in slow motion. It dropped an inch, just barely out of reach. His eyes followed it, he didn't know what she could have seen. The tumbler fell another inch. She must be wrong, he thought. A few more inches. He knew she had never been wrong. Then the tumbler met the stone and shattered into a thousand pieces. The sound tore through him like a gunshot and instantly broke him out of his fugue. \n\nWhiskey and ice spread across the stone, darkening it. Bill looked back up at his friend, his face ashen. \"Sherry,\" he was having trouble saying it, \"What did you see?\"\n\n\"I saw your wife, your boy, and you,\" Sherry said, sobbing. \"He was in the back,\" she said, pointing at his car. \"You named him Sam but you called him Sammy. You were taking them back from the hospital. You were happy. You were all so happy,\" She was barely audible now. \"Elizabeth said something and you glance at her for just a second. You smile and you're about to say something back. And then it happens and...and... none of you survive.” \n\nBill stared at the ground. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for letting me know.” He tried to stand up but his legs fell out from under him. He stood up and walked slowly towards the door. \n\nSherry watched him fumble with the door knob. She heard the gunshot a minute later. She screamed.", "'We've had some great times Reheedra, but now it's time to go....'\nI took a small work to the windowsill, took out a red, Cuban cigar before the wind took away the smoke, blocking my view of the empty city.\n\n'I know know...'\nI placed my palm up in an attempt to appease the inevitable onslaught of arguments that were coming.\n\n'You've always been there. Ever since I ventured to France, to London and attended l'academie d'etudiants doues. Awesome stuff.'\n\nI took a sip of Kronenbourg before indulging in a panorama of the musee d'orsay.\n\n'You're the best I've ever had and now unfortunately Raj, you'll just be a memory....'\n\nI wiped the tears off my cheeks.\n\nAs usual, Raj took it well, shrugged his shoulders and patted me in the back.\n\n'You were there for prom, my graduation, all my exams, getting my driver's licence; what more could I possibly ask from you?'\n\nThis wasn't quite the fitting tribute Raj expected, but considering this was my first ever cull, I thought I held up reasonably well in the circumstances. \n\n'I need to move on....no girlfriend and not much of a career. I've tried to be independent and reliant on you, but you've now become my master!'\n\nRaj nodded, he gazed at the ceiling in his rainbow shirt before acknowledging the truth.\n\n'Its been an honour my good dragon....'\n\nPuff. A thick fog of pink smoke set him off into the next life. \n\n'Okay reality...bring it on!'" ]	3
	[WP] A lonely person and an anti social person get stranded on a deserted island	[ "The island is about 500 people— I mean feet long. It's not really an island. It's really a sandbar. It's only about 350 feet arose at high tide. But now it's low tide. Which is nice. I can stand over here, looking for shells or clams or something, and he can stand over there, looking for shells or clams or something. \n\nI see something green lying in the sand. I pick it up. It's a piece of sea glass. I hold it up to the sky, and for a moment the light catches it, shining a small sun into my eyes. It dyes the the sky green. As I bring it down it … what do you call it? Oh yeah, nicks. It nicks my finger and a small drop of blood rolls down my finger. I take a glance at the glass before throwing it out to sea again. \n\nHe starts yelling. I gently turn around, and face him. He's jumping up and down, waving his arms. I jog over there, expecting to see nothing. But on the horizon, there is a ship. I think. Some kind of dark object. I can tell without asking him that he thinks it's a ship. That's the only thing that's been on his mind since he got there. That and me. He wasn't too old for me. It just felt like I'd just met him. Always. \n\nSo I stood there with him, waving my arms and jumping and occasionally adding my scream to the din he was making. And the ship is coming closer. It is a container ship. It is a grey, hulking monstrosity. It is sending a little yellow boat, just like the one he arrived on, down to the island. \n\nThe ship hits the island. Two men climb out. He walks over on one of them and gives him a hug. The other one of them comes over to me, pats me on the shoulder. I winced. \nI make a couple of sounds, wave my hand over the landscape. I want to stay, I try to communicate. The men just stare at me. He knows me better. He walks over to me, puts his hand around my shoulder. He explains to them that I want to stay. The men look confused. He pulls closer to me, says several words I don't catch. The men nod. They come closer to me, pull at my shoulders, smile. I reluctantly get on the boat. I sit there, shivering in my seaweed dress as the row me to the boat. \n\nThey hook some ropes and hook them up to the boat. We are pulled up. When I can see over the edge, as many people as I've seen since I was on that island are gathered, smiling. I lie down, try to hide, shaking. He pulls me back up. We walk off onto the big boat together.\n \nI never see that little island again. But I can't help but long for it. It's five hundred feet long in low tide, three-hundred in high tide. The sand is white and rough. Most of the seaweed that washes up there is red. It rains twice a week in the rainy season, once in the dry. Clams grow below the sand they are small and sweet, but you have to dig for them. The stars are bright and you can see all of them. And there are no people. None.", "We watched the plane go up in flames as we ran away. It was a simple mistake with disastrous consequences. Turns out that jets need fuel to keep going. That is to say, they need much _more_ fuel than what we gave it. \n\nI'm not even a pilot, so I don't know why I flew from one country to another in the first place. To escape? Loneliness requires company. So being devoid of company cures loneliness. \n\nI look at the man. He stands with his feet in a pool of water, flowing so slowly that it acts nearly a mirror. A stout figure, with an asymmetrical face that not even a mother could love.\n\nI call to him. \n\n\"Hey, you could at least enjoy yourself while you're here. Isn't a deserted island what you wanted? You hate talking, after all.\" \n\nHe stares at me for a moment. Did I get it right? Of course I did. \n\nHe says nothing for a long time. I try again. \n\n\"It's natural why no-one surrounds you. You don't talk to anyone. No-one talks to you. It's a circle. If there's a way to do it, I'd say that's how you get nowhere fast.\" \n\nHis face softens, winces, and softens. He buries his head in his hands, feeling the rain of wasted time in his palms. \n\nI look up. \n\nI stare at him. He stares at me. \n\nA circle. But this is what I wanted, right?\n\nI kick the water, my feet getting cold, and the man disappears. \n" ]	2
	[WP] "I cry together with them. I cry alone for them." Implement this into a story, make of it what you will.	[ "\"He was there,\" the woman says, her voice soft but commanding all of the air in the room. Everyone seems to be holding their breath. \"I saw him right there, in the corner of the room.\"\n\n\"What did he say?\" I ask quietly, because it is my job to. \n\nTears brim in her eyes. \"He finally did it.\"\n\n\"He was gon' come around any day, I knew it,\" a man says from the other end of the circle. \"Jus' like I told you my own boy was gon' come round. And he did, didn't he?\" \n\nSome of the old men and women gathered around, all of them waiting out their last days, have tears brimming in their eyes. Like any old people, they've reached that point in their lives where they just can't be bothered to give a shit about anything, and usually, they all do their own thing. \n\nThey play cards when they feel like it. They try to start up a game of musical chairs when they feel like it. They'll eat when they feel like it and refuse to eat when they feel like it, but this? There is no feel like it's in this circle that we're all sitting in. \n\nIn the circle, you listen. In the circle, they cry for each other. All of them left behind; some by choice and some by fate. Sons who grew out of caring for their mothers, daughters who became tired of tending to their fathers. Sons and daughters who've been carried across the world, only coming back in signals transmitted through metal. \n\n\"He said he was sorry and that he would come back for me.\" Some of the old people are smiling now, lifting their faces. Tears remain stagnant in their eyes. The soft-spoken woman let a slow smile spread across her face. \"He'll be coming back.\"\n\nSome sons and daughters come back as fickle images that appear only to a few, flickering in and out of existence. \n\n\"That's wonderful,\" I say, feel water pool in my own eyes. Like I said, old people do their own thing. I've long given up on trying to dole out reality. \n\nI cry together with him, for the sons and daughters they will never see. All they have is me, a poor substitute, or maybe in some ways I'm better, because at least I stuck around till the end. \n\nSometimes at night, I think of the emptiness in their hands and their laps that should've been filled by the hand of a daughter or granddaughter, and I cry alone for them. ", "It was a year since they have been here. The ambience filled with nearly synchonized tones of their EKGs. The room was thoroughly cold, even though it was summer, the chill of silence and death. My parents were laying in the dual bed layout of the hospital. It was so painful to see them like this... each breath aided by life support. At least, they were properly nourished and well taken care of by the nursing staff. I think it was because they pitied me, only being seventeen at the time, now without any family... I sat in the uncomfortable visiting chair between them, holding their hands as well as my tears. They were uncomfortably cold.... \n\nI had come to terms with everything. I was gonna make my birthday wish come true. My resolve only grew stronger as I stood over them seeing their tears spill off their pained faces. I cry together with them, but now I cry alone for them. " ]	2
Occasionally while playing things like 2048 on my phone, or angry birds, I will try to imagine dialogue and backstory for what is going on. It helps pass the time. Just seeing what everyone can come up with.	[WP] Fabricate a detailed back story of what is happening in your favorite video game that doesn't have a story.	[ "Brewer walked into the office sweating profusely from the effort of walking into the building. Years of late nights and too much overtime had taken its toll; he was only 50 but looked like late 60s. He grunted the barest of acknowledgements to his secretary, Carol, as he walked into his office. She tried to catch his attention, but he walked by too quickly. Brewer fell into an exhausted heap in his desk chair and only after a minute did he notice the sharply dressed young man with an eager smile standing at attention.\n\n\n\"Carol,\" Brewer bellowed, \"Who the hell is this in my office?\"\n\n\nCarol walked into the office and tossed a portfolio on Brewer's desk. She said sharply, \"As I was saying when you walked in, this is your new hire. Mr. John Player 1. He'll be taking over today.\"\n\n\n\"Oh? Well about goddamn time I got some help around here. I ain't got time to do everything for you people.\"\n\n\nCarol smiled flatly and showed herself out. Brewer sat up and picked the portfolio off the table. After scanning through John's details and work history, he looked up at the eager young man and asked him, \"So, uhh, what did you say your family name is?\"\n\n\"Player 1, sir.\"\n\n\n\"Uh huh, that's a good family name. Listen, do you know what we do around here?\"\n\n\n\"No, but I have an idea.\" John said and tried to look as important as possible.\n\n\n\"Which means you don't know shit, so I'll tell you. We have but one mission. Every day the Nuclear Power plant in the two county area is going to produce one Barrel of toxic waste. They're going to send it out into the wild, and whichever county holds out the longest, and can come up with the best defence, will send it back to the other county. One of the two counties will have to dispose of it. It costs a lot of money to dispose of the waste, so we want the other county to dispose of it, not us. You got it? Do you understand what I'm saying?\"\n\n\nJohn nodded vigorously and said, \"Yes, we need to send the waste to the other county.\"\n\n\nBrewer slammed his fist on the table, \"Damn it, no, that's not it. If you trying to send the waste somewhere, you're too late. Look, it's real simple, I'll lay it out for you. Around here we call each Barrel the Ball. You have one simple instruction; Avoid missing ball for high score. That's it, that's all there ever is. You can't miss that ball. You got it?\"\n\n\nNervously John nodded in agreement. \n\n\nBrewer continued, \"That's right. They move down, we got be ready for them. They look like they're going to spike it up top, we got be ready there too. You gotta think one move ahead of them. I won't lie to you son, it's long hours and hard work for little pay, but at the end of the day it's a damn satisfying job. Do you think you're up to the challenge?\"\n\n\n\"Yes sir.\"\n\n\n\"It doesn't sound like it.\"\n\n\nJohn straightened himself up and barked out, \"YES SIR!\"\n\n\nBrewer smiled at John. He stood up and walked around the desk to shake John's hand and said, \"Good job Son, I think you'll work out just fine. Welcome to the Professional Office of Nuclear Gerrymandering, PONG for short.\" ", "It was around 2198 that NUFA, or the New United Federation of the Americas as they now called themselves, proposed finding an alternative to war. Killing people had stopped being profitable almost a decade before and, at this point, humans were doing it as a tradition rather than the somber act of indignation it previously was. Oh, you did something I did not approve of! You leave me no choice but to explode all the things you love. You brought this on yourself, you know! Resources on the planet were scarce. What was not irradiated with nuclear fallout was jealously guarded, unwillingly distributed and, in most cases, cautiously siphoned into the black markets. Populations were concentrated in dense clusters. Dropping bombs were too easy and it had become nearly impossible to convince the few young people left to take up arms for any reason. How can there be patriotism when your country was suffering exactly as much as all the others?\n\nA grand assembly gathered in the capital of the TSBEAEC (Technically-Separate-But-Equal Alliance of European Countries), to discuss this proposition. Ambassadors, Leaders of Personality Cults and Self-Elected Officials all over the globe were in attendance to make sure that any discussions were fair to all parties, that this compromise was not rigged to favor once country more than the others. And, if they were honest with themselves, to ensure that the compromise was rigged in their favor one way or another. With much pomp and pageantry, the representatives of Earth’s remaining civilizations found their seats in the large hall. The Neo-Prussian Queen politely doffed her crown to the Emperor of the Australasia, who in turn smiled back while calling her something foul in Warlpiri under his breath. This, in turn was taken as a sign by Pope Goodwill Jacques (of the Holy African Democracy of the United Congo) that a conspiracy was afoot. He quickly nudged his neighboring delegate to receive a second opinion which, unbeknownst to His Holiness, is a grave insult in the Antarctic culture. And the nudged ambassador was very, very Antarctic.\n\nThe name calling, declarations of vendetta and fisticuffs were only broken up by the rather rude sound of a large woman screaming through a megaphone. The incensed delegates stopped punching each other for just enough time that the red-faced NUFA Oligarch could start her presentation.\n\n“This is exactly why we cannot settle our disputes the same way we have in the past. One wrong phrase, one wrong move and we are back at each other’s throats. And who suffers? Everyone. Our children. Our people. Our planet.” The hall grew silent as people returned to their seats with new-found humility. “No longer shall we lash out. We need to find a way to stop the bloodshed. For the sake of humanity!”\n\n“What then? How do we settle these matters when these dummkopfs refuse to listen to common sense?!” shrieked the Queen of Neo-Prussia.\n\n“If I may, I think I have the answer.”\n\nAll heads swiveled around to a graying figure in the back of the assembly hobbling to the center of the room. He was of slight build, little more than a skeleton wearing clothes. Wires snaked out of his suit which sparked in time to his irregular pace, which threatened to set the tension in the air alight. Nippon’s Head of Research and Culture was more metal than flesh, which was not unusual in his country. It was a well-accepted fact that the Nipponese strove to become one with the machines they worshipped; to become a cyborg was every citizen’s sacred duty.\n\n“We continue to act like children. Why not settle this like them too? We play a game. Winner takes all.”\n\nFor the first time since the first person walked into that room, it was silent. Each leader took turns going through a wide range of emotions in no particular order. How dare that sparkplug call me a child?! But, what if we lose? Is he insane? How can we settle border disputes with something as simple as a game?\n\nBut the prevailing thought going through every mind was why did I not think of that?\n\nThe agreed rules were simple on paper, but took months to put into action.\n \n\tThe Game can only be played in international waters. This way, no country can claim home-ground advantage.\n\tThe Arena would be a rectangle, divided in half. Each half is three nautical miles wide, two and a half long. Only contestants could enter the Arena. Any interference would be dealt with… extreme prejudice.\n\tOpposing nations would select a team of individuals to play on their behalf. The best men and women would represent their country by manning a specialized craft designed by the best minds humanity has to offer. The Craft would only be able to move forward or backwards. Computers locked on to satellites ensured that the Craft automatically compensate for tidal drift, so that the Craft would only move in a straight line.\n\tThe objective of the Game is to prevent an AI controlled, rocket-propelled buoy from passing the Craft. If the Buoy touches a Craft, the Buoy ricochets away from the Craft and towards the opponent’s area. Should the Buoy head towards the edge of the Arena, the AI will course-correct to that is stays within bounds.\n\tShould the Buoy pass a Craft, the Buoy will self-destruct and a point would be allocated to the opposing team.\n\tEach game will last until one team scores eleven points. The winner of the game is final.\n\nIt was perfect. Barring a few incidents, which were considered “growing pains”, the first Game marked the start of global human-cooperation that had never been seen before. If there was a dispute that could not be solved by negotiation, a challenge was called. The winning country would have the support of the entire world.\n\nThe Nipponese Representative was honored by the Global Assembly for his genius and foresight. It was unanimously decided that the Game should forever be synonymous with that great man’s name. Chairman Pong’s contribution would never be forgotten.\n" ]	2
	[WP]A new drug that makes you dream of a new life (from birth to death) but only for 5 minutes, and you are the beta tester. What the chemists didn't know is that in the dream time is altered and you feel like 80 years pass. Describe your dream!	[ "Today is my phantom birthday, because as of 4 hours ago I've officially been William longer than I was Mason Frank. \n\nSitting at the emmaculate breakfast table eating a celebratory breakfast of sorts, as Mason Frank had no stomach for early morning meals and grapefruit interacted negatively with his anxiety medication.\n\nLife as William, at a solid six foot height, is a much less anxious sort of life than at five ten.\n\nI suppose I will continue on as William for a lifetime? There is angst in knowing that this life is a phantom one. When I return to the life of Mason Frank he will be a stranger, with all of the anxiety and trembling hands that accompany him. Mrs. Frank is a long lost friend I have not forgotten. Her smile will be sweet.\n\n", "\"Do you happen to see what happened to Elise and Carl at the fundraiser last night?\"\n\"No I missed it but people have been goin on and on about how big a fool Elise made of Carl, so what happened?\"\n\"Well so as the cameras switched from Carl as he was talking about all the good his new film was doing...\"\n\nEric laid awake under the sheets with his down feather pillow laying lifeless on the floor, it had lost it battle with gravity and Eric's incessant tossing and turning during the night. The fan blades about the bed glided effortlessly through the brisk morning air that seeped in through the window that propped open during the night. Eric rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned heavily, as he did he looked to the radio where the two dis were prattling on about some big bit of news that happened at some ritzy party. He reached over and pressed the off button on the stereo and the voices stopped.\n\n\nAs Eric made his way downstairs he could smell the coffee brewing. He inhaled deeply and goosebumps gathered on his body as his nervous system finally registered the cold of the morning. He hopped past the last two stair and made his way to the window where he quickly shut it. He looked out across the yard as the sun just barely over the horizon, he shivered once more as he noticed the frost that accumulated on the grass. \"I hate winter.\" He made his way to fridge and grabbed a bottle of coffee creamer, he shook it and realized there wasn't enough for a full cup. Sighing he reached in and grabbed another bottle \"peppermint mocha and pumpkin spice. Ugh.\" He grabbed a cup that most people would consider a soup bowl and poured a cup of the black liquid energy, he popped the lids of the two creamers and pour the entirety of them in to his mug. He watched as the light of the creamers mixed in with the dark as his spoon rotated clockwise in the cup making small clinking noises as it bumped the edges of the porcelain. In the end light over came the dark as Eric took an big sip of the concoction, regretting it as he did so. \" wow, damnit, hot!\" He wiped up the bit of coffee that spilled as he jerked the hot drink from his mouth.\n\n\n\"So what are you doing tonight Eric?\"\n\n\n\"I dunno my dad probably has something planned for my birthday but he's trying to keep it under wraps. My brothers keep bugging me about wanting to get together though max hardly ever wants to go anywhere or do anything he always says ' maybe' I wish he'd just say no so I knew how to plan.\"\n\n\n\"That's annoying. I mean why do you keep inviting him to do things if he always flakes?\"\n\"Well he my brother and we never used to get along when we were kids but after my mom we just kind of sorta bonded you know?\"\n\n\n\"Yea but still he should make a better effort. Anyways if you end up not doing anything I'm free after work.\" Amanda let the statement stand on its own as she leaned on counter.\n\n\n\"Careful I might just take you up on that.\" Eric said as he smiled and winked at Amanda who by all accounts was kind of pretty.\n\n\"I hope you do.\" Amanda said as she unleashed the full power of her kind of pretty smile.\n\n\n\"I'd like to name her Charlotte after my mom.\" Eric proposed with bags under his eyes\n\n\nAmanda rolled her eyes as she lay drenched in sweat in a pool of her own bodily fluids and a small, ugly baby girl laid in her arms. \"How about Elise? \" \n\n\n\"Elise. Like that dumb bimbo actress Elise?\" Eric was if with defeat heavy on his voice, \"Elise is a pretty name though.\" \n\n\nEric watched as Elise went onto her first day of her first year of school, then her second year and third and so on.\n\n\n\"Are you sure you have everything?\"\n\n\n\"Yes dad I'm sure.\" Elise giggled as she hugged her dad.\n\n\n\"I'm proud of you honey.\" Eric admonished as he let go of Elise. \"I'm sorry you mom couldn't come she had that appointment and you know how she is with keeping her appointments.\" \n\n\"Don't worry dad I know. Tell her I love now go on before you embarrass me in front of my roommate.\" Elise said as she began pushing her dad out the door.\n\n\" alright, alright I'm going. Take car of my little princess!\" Eric yelled back just as he exited the building.\n\n\n\"Dad!\" He heard yell exasperated. He laughed to himself and smiled proudly as he pulled out of the parking lot and continued smiling as he flipped on the radio and passed the \"north ridge community college\" sign.\n\n\nEric sat on edge of the dusty old couch, a quickly warming bottle of bud light held loosely in his hand. The pen he had been holding had took a leap of faith off his knee less jeans and landed peacefully on the linoleum floor. He sat with his head hanging listlessly from his shoulders. He knew he should be crying but he just didn't have the energy anymore. He looked helplessly to his left where the TV tray he used for an end table sat. It's polished brass edges were fighting a losing battle against the all powerful rust. Sighing deeply Eric roused his aging body off the couch. The sudden movement caused dust particles to escape the confines of the couch and get captured by a ray of the low evening sun. Eric snatched up a bundle of papers that covered the kinkade esque picture the brass borders held in. He dropped the newly signed divorce papers into the outgoing mail slot. He glanced at the table where a card with a cat that had two huge googly eyes on the front. \"You're how old!?\" It read, \"happy sixty-eighth birthday old man! Love maxwell.\"\n\n\n\"I love you buddy.\" Max said through tears\n\n\n\"I love you too max.\" Eric said as he laid in the hospital bed. \" where'd everyone go?\" He asked as he looked around the empty room.\n\n\n\"Elise said she had to go pick up dinner for mike but she'd be back tomorrow, she also wanted to freshen up. \" Max explained. \"Amanda said she might try and make it over this weekend.\"\n\n\"Oh I see.\" Eric whispered exhausted. \" \n\n\n\n\"... I can't believe Carl didn't get right up and knock Steve right off the stage! Oh look he's up, how was your cat nap Eric.\"\n \n", "\"So, what are you going to do now that you are awake again?\"\n\n\"Awake? I feel as if I have been thrown into a nightmare. Can you understand what I am going through? No, of course you can't. I lost my family, my life. Not only did I lose everything that I loved, but I now know that it was never real. No, I am not awake, but I will be joining my family again soon.\"", "Billy lived a good life. He had a loving wife and 4 children who gave him 9 grandchildren and 2 great grandchildren. He didn't want it to be over. But he was 80 years old and his health was failing. Sometimes people just know when their time has come. Billy's time was near. \n\n\"I'm so glad all four of my children were able to be here with me today,\" said Billy in his deathbed. \"I don't feel 89 years old at all. My mind is still as sharp as ever.\" Billy said as his strength was fading. \"I can remember being a young child and playing with my friends. I remember the births of each my my children and their children. My only regret is living to suffer through my beloved wife's death 8 years ago. I truly believe no one can love a person more than I loved my dear wife of 62 years,\" said Billy as his eyes closed for the last time. \n\n\"Albert, wake up!\" said the tech-nurse. 28 year old Albert Grant wakes up very disoriented. \"Just relax Albert, it's going to take a few minutes for you to become oriented with reality,\" said the nurse. \"Why are you calling me Albert? My name is Billy Bob Madsen, what did you do to me? I feel great! So much energy! Where is my family?!\" exclaimed Albert as he gets out of bed to look for his family. The nurse calls for assistance. \"Mr. Grant, stop! You can't let these wires disconnect for another 3 hours or else....\" before the nurse could finish, Albert walks out of the room and disconnects the wires from his arms. \n\n\"Oh no Albert, what have you done?\" asked the nurse rhetorically. I told you to stay where you are. This could be bad,\" the nurse getting anxious as 3 doctors come into the hallway outside Albert's room. The doctor explains to Albert that he interrupted the recovery process by disconnecting the wires to his arms. The wires are used to purge the 'artificial life' from the real one so the subject can return to normal. \n\n\"Stop calling me Albert! My name is Billy and I can tell you my life story. My struggles, my children and their children and their children! I remember all of it! You can't tell me it wasn't real!\" said Albert defiantly. \n\nAlbert had a wife of 3 years and a 2 year old child. He was a real estate lawyer in Chicago. The doctors had to sedate Albert because he was hysterical about seeing his 'family'. The next day, Albert wakes up. He finally remembers his real life but also remembers his other life where he lived to be 80 years old. He remembers his beloved wife of 62 years. Every year of it. His deep affection for his dream wife made it impossible for Albert to enjoy his real life. The tech-doctors advised the team that they would need to alter the dream sequence pills in version 1.01. \n\nAlbert's wife served him with divorce papers 3 months later. Albert would go on to support his child financially, but would never develop a healthy relationship with the child. Albert spent the next 52 years in emotional turmoil over not being able to see his dream family. He never accepted the fact that it wasn't real. It was a lifetime of torment. Albert died unhappily at the age of 80. \n\n\"Mr. Elton, you're awake! You slept almost 12 hours longer than we had expected. Are you feeling okay? Do you know where you are?\" asked the tech-nurse. \"Elton? My name is not Elton,\" exclaimed the man in the bed. \n\nOne of the tech-doctors tells the others \"Looks like version 1.9 is no good either. Give him another 'dream'.\" ", "Just after he wakes up\n\nI slowly came back to myself. Off to one side, I could hear someone ask \"How are you feeling, Mr. Lewis?\"\n\n\"Fine. A little sleepy, I guess.\" \n\n\"That's perfectly normal.\" The doctor walked over to the monitors by his bedside. \"Hm. Looks like all your vitals are steady, but we'll just keep you under observation for a few hours. Let us know if you start to feel ill.\" \n\n\"I will. Thanks, doc.\" I leaned back against the elevated pillow, and settled in for a nap. Then everything came back. \n\nThe coffee farm in Jamaica. \n\nAll the friends that I made at school. \n\nJulia. \n\nMoving to the States at 16, knowing that I'd never see her again. \n\nEarly admission to Columbia. \n\nDropping out after a year. \n\nMoving out to San Francisco. \n\nFinishing my degree at Stanford. \n\nStarting a band. \n\nQuitting a band. \n\nStarting another. \n\nA few years of unsatisfying fame. \n\nMoving back to New York. \n\nGetting a job at the Village Voice. \n\nSeeing Julia for the first time in 15 years. \n\nMarrying Julia. \n\nOur first, then second then third then fourth kid. \n\nMoving from Manhattan to Brooklyn to Queens, then out to Long Island. \n\nBeing able to work from home for the first time. \n\nGaining the respect of my peers. \n\nMoving to the Times. \n\nRaising good, kind, healthy kids. \n\nMoving back to California, and settling in the Bay Area. \n\nRetirement. \n\nGoing right back to work for the Chronicle. \n\nSeeing my kids get married and have children of their own. \n\nThe cancer diagnosis. Six months, they said. \n\nDying in my sleep with Julia by my side after two.\n\nIt all came back in a flood. All the things that happened, but didn't really happen. All of the friends I met, the places I visited, the once-in-a-lifetime experiences. Julia. Oh god, Julia. How could I miss someone so much if I've never met her? It started as a sniffle, but within seconds I was close to bawling. I wrapped the pillow against my face, and cried for what felt like hours. Cried for everything that never happened. ", "Which one was it? How deep am I? I have to admit I am amazed the brain is capable of this much time dilation. OH, I am ahead of myself. Sorry, let me explain. On my 80th birthday, on my deathbed, I took part in a drug trial. It sank me into a deep sleep, meant to be my last one. They said it would allow me to live much longer, but in a dream like state. Live out another life in my head, as my brain dumped its entire store of chemicals at once while I was still alive instead of just on the fringe of death. Interestingly, I lived a full 80 year life, different from the first, and on my death bed the same thing happened. Yet another whole life, a new beginning. Oddly, every life ended the same way - with a new beginning. I had lived, what, maybe a dozen lives now? Hundreds and hundreds of years. Every minute detail, stubbed toes highs and lows. \n\nFinally, I feel fulfilled. This time, I am denying the treatment. I am going to let it all slide away, a dozen lives are enough for me to be satisfied that I have done everything available to me. I slip away into the dark that night, drawing my last breath.\n\n---\n\n\"Charles, welcome back.\" the disembodied voice said, I was vaguely aware of movement and figures around me. My body could feel several people in the room, and it was bright - So very bright. \n\n\"Heart rate up. Calm down, Charles. It's ok, your done now. The trial was a success, you have only been under for five minutes. The brain activity was off the charts, we literally broke the scanner!\" she sounded excited, I wasn't. My head was throbbing, I was confused. \n\n\"Where am I?\" I asked. \n\n\"Goliath's Medical College, where you were five minutes ago. Do you remember? The trial...\" she trailed off, a hint of concern leaked into her voice.\n\n\"I... think I remember.\" I sat up, looking around at the several scientists in cliche lab coats surrounding me.\n\n\"Alright, so. Your name?\"\n\n\"Charles... uhh Berkley.\" \n\n\"Good, your age?\"\n\n\"Twenty Five, I think. Forgive me if I don't really get anything right, its been crazy.\"\n\n\"What was it like?\" she asked, too enraptured by my story to continue her post-trial checkups. The rest of them stood there silently, waiting.\n\nHow could I tell them, how could I explain over a thousand years of lives had just happened in the span of five minutes? How could anybody ever understand.", "Not to detract from the actual responses but there was a guy that went through something similar in reaity that posted on reddit. Went into a brief coma and lived out a decade of a fantasy life in detail where he fell in love and got married and had children. Eventually the dream started to collapse in on itself and he woke up only to find that none of it was real. He was crushed that his wife and children were gone and had never actually been and he needed therapy for a long time after in order to deal with his loss. If anyone has a link to the story share it. It's really heart breaking.", "My name is Arthur Philips. I'm 80 years old. It is the year 2070 and this world doesn't exist. I have decided to share my story in hopes that I might not die in vain without anybody knowing the truth, should I be wrong about this false reality. But if I am right, this world will cease to exist with my death. My beloved wife of 56 years passed away last night and at that, I have nothing left to live for in this world. My heart has broken, and along with it my will to continue this lie perishes.\n\n\n\nThey told me I was wrong. They sent me to doctors who told me that my previous life is a fabrication of my mind. They gave me pills and told me that it would all go away, but it did not. I have struggled with this my entire life. Everybody I know and love in this world isn't real. I know it sounds crazy and I know you have no reason to believe me, but this is the truth. This is the world that is a fabrication of my mind, not the world before.\n\n\n\nI entered a clinical drug trial at the age of 24 for $100 compensation. They told me that I would only be unconscious for 5 minutes. They said I would gain the experience of a full lifetime and that I would become a better person for it. They said it would solve all of my problems and that I wouldn't be depressed anymore after I woke up. I figured I had nothing to lose, my life felt empty and meaningless and $100 was a lot of money to a broke 24 year old. \n\n\n\nThat was 80 years ago. My life had started over. I had new parents and new name, but I have always been aware of my previous life, of the world before. I was not always able to comprehend my previous life, however. It was around the age of six when I began to recognize that I was in a dream world. Memories from before started to flood my mind. I cried almost every day because I knew I was trapped in this lucid dream of mine and that I was really just a depressed 24 year old.\n\n\n\nThat's when they started taking me to doctors. They started diagnosing me with this and that and everything in between. They put me in special school programs because they recognized my intelligence but mistook my previous life as mental illness. It didn't get better from there. I used to stay up late at night, begging the doctors from before to wake me up, to return me to what I was. I felt so lonely in this dream world of mine, despite being surrounded by loving parents and a wonderful brother and sister. I often dreamed of the world before. I could see the faces of the people that I once recognized as my parents. I could see my friends playing card games and I could hear my cat meowing. But they said it isn't real. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the world before. But I always woke up in my dream world with tears running down my cheeks.\n\n\n\nIt was around my 12th birthday that I began to accept my loss. I was stuck in this world and I had no choice. The only thing that kept me going was the thought that I would return to reality at some point if I simply carried on with my phony life. I tried to make the best of it. I could live two whole lives in the time that everybody else lives one, surely that's worth a fortune? Once this life was fulfilled, I could simply pick my old one back up and continue with that. But it wasn't easy. It was never easy.\n\n\n\nI lived a very dark and depressed life into my mid-twenties in this dream world. It was even worse than it was in the world before. I was just going through the motions and waiting for the day I could resume my real life. I couldn't accept what the therapists told me, what the doctors all said. I began contemplating suicide in hopes of ending this nightmare early and finding the world before. This world wasn't real and it would never matter. \n\n\n\nThat is, until I met her.\n\n\n\nShe came onto my life from nowhere. I was a lost and hopeless soul wandering the darkness suddenly illuminated by a blinding beacon of light. My life suddenly became so bright that I forgot all about the world before. I guess love will do that to you, but she stole my troubles away and left me with reason to go on with this lucid reality. The nightmares stopped and I began waking up with a smile on my face. When I closed my eyes, I saw only her beautiful face smiling back at me. I'd get lost in her big brown eyes and suddenly this world became more real than anything I ever knew.\n\n\n\nI had never known love before. Not in this world and not in the world before. My love for her overthrew everything that I understood to be real. Why would I want to go back to a world where love didn't exist for me? For all I cared, this was the real world and the world before was just a sad delusion and I even began to believe that. We got married when I was 26. We had two beautiful children. Life made sense and I didn't want anything to change. \n\n\n\nI stopped seeing the doctors. I stopped taking their drugs. I didn't need anything to keep me sane except for her. She held my world in her eyes and when I gazed into them, I saw true happiness. I saw it the first time we kissed. As she slowly pulled her head back, I opened my eyes and my world was absorbed into her big, beautiful brown eyes. They were like a portal to another reality. I found the real world, and it wasn't the world before.\n\n\n\nIt feels like yesterday that we were celebrating our 50th anniversary. I still remember hugging my grandchildren and telling them stories of their grandmother when we were younger. All the places we went together and all the things we did. I wouldn't change any of it. But now that's all over. She succumbed to the cancer after a valiant 4 year struggle. I kissed her one last time. I gazed deep into those beautiful brown eyes of hers and told her I loved her. A single tear streamed down her cheek as her breathing ceased. \n\n\n\nAnd just like that, it was over. The darkness came flooding back as my beacon had burned out. It hit me like an asteroid impacting the moon. Nothing matters anymore. This life has returned to being a lie. I sit here at my desk writing this, knowing that there's only one thing I can do. I have to end it. There's nothing left here for me. To my kids and grandchildren, please forgive me. If you still exist tomorrow, then the doctors were surely correct all along and I really am crazy. Just know that I love you all.\n\n\n\nWith love, Arthur Philips\n\n\n\nArthur closed his laptop and turned to the loaded rifle he had leaning against his desk and let out a deep sigh. This was it, it was finally happening. He stood up and looked around his office, decorated with pictures of his family. He looked at each individual photo with a smile. His children, his grandchildren, his parents. His brother and sister and nieces and nephews. It was a good life, but the world before was overtaking him. As he got to the last photo, a photo of his wife in a golden frame on his desk, his eyes began to tear up.\n\n\n\n\"I'm sorry, my beacon of light.\" he muttered to himself as he picked up the rifle. \"I know you wouldn't want it to end like this, but that world before awaits me. I must do this. I will always love you. I will always remember your big, beautiful brown eyes.\"\n\n\n\n\"James?\" a sudden voice rang out. James opened his eyes and saw a familiar face. \"Don't make any sudden movement James, you'll be groggy for a few minutes as the drug wears off. We had to pull you out of it early, one of the other patients awoke just before you and it seems there's an unforeseen side effect. The year is 2014, you're in Mulberry Labs, and you were out for just over four minutes. Please take a moment to collect yourself and you may sit up when you feel you're ready.\"\n\n\n\nThe face was that of the doctor who had given him the injection moments ago. The bright florescent lights beamed into his eyes as he struggled to comprehend his surroundings. James felt unusual, like he had just turned back the clock. He felt like he was a kid again.\n\n\n\n\"2014?\" James managed to ask as he slowly began to sit up.\n\n\n\n\"That's right. I'm sure you're very confused right now. Please remain calm and let yourself gather your thoughts. I'll be back to check on you in a minute after I'm done helping Susan.\"\n\n\n\nJames looked around the room and it suddenly clicked. The world before! Arthur really wasn't crazy! Everything Arthur knew and loved had ceased to exist, but the world James knew had returned. His heart rate rose as he realized what it meant. His hands began shaking and his eyes began to fill with tears.\n\n\n\n\"That's a h-hell of a drug you've got there doc.\" His voice trembled as he spoke. But it was just the way he remembered it, 80 years and he still remembered the lab where it all began. It was a medium sized room with 3 examination tables on either side. Everything was so white and sterile, just like a doctor's office. There was only two people in the room aside from James. The familiar doctor and another patient, Susan, who James hadn't met before. James turned his body towards the examination table next to him where Susan and the doctor were and let his legs dangle off. \n\n\n\n\"Alright, I'm going to go get your paperwork in order, Susan, and then I'll be right back to help you, James.\" the doctor said as she walked towards a desk on the far end of the room. \n\n\n\n\"I guess we're the first people to ever get to get a second go at life\" Susan said with relief in her voice and a big smile on her face. \"And I think I know exactly what I want to do with it.\"\n\n\n\n\"I know what you mean. That drug really has solved all of my problems.\" James responded as he gazed deep into Susan's big, beautiful, brown eyes.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n ", "I was afraid of dying. I wanted more time. All those decades just flew by. I was already an old man. So many regrets and unfulfilled goals. Sure I had money, but that didn't do me any good now. I needed more time. \n\nI was told this drug would do exactly that. It wouldn't cure me, but it would allow me to live while I slept. It was better than nothing, I suppose. If I could go to sleep and travel, see the world, be young again, then I didn't care if it wasn't real. \n\nThe doctor gave me the rundown again before injecting me. I wasn't listening. I had heard it all before. I just wanted him to get it over with so I could get to sleep and see what all the fuss was about. I lay down after he pulled the needle out and closed my eyes.\n\nAs I woke up I could tell something was different. I was groggy but this did look like a different room. I took it as a good sign - that the drug was working. A man was standing by the door, looking at me. I was too preoccupied with the way my body felt to give him any attention. I didn't feel like an old man anymore! I pulled off the blanket and sat up. I felt fifty years younger. I noticed my hands - they looked fifty years younger. This drug had given me a new lease on life. I couldn't help but grin like an idiot. It didn't even feel like I was dreaming! \n\nThe man walked over to me. He looked oddly familiar, like an old friend. \n\n\"See Mr. Rogers? I told you those 5 minutes would fly by. As per our contract, I'll need you to describe your experience in as much detail as possible while it's still fresh in your mind. Please take your time.\"\n\nAfter a moment it all came flooding back. I now had more time and I damn sure wouldn't waste it. ", "\"How many testers do we have?\" said a man's voice, echoing through the sleep lab. \n\nI struggled to get comfortable in the hard wooden chair that was provided. My outward calm demeanor was betrayed by the tiny droplets of anxiety-induced sweat slowly forming on my brow. We'd been briefed on the purpose of the drug. Something they created to make surgical procedures more pleasant for the wealthier among us. It creates an alternate reality; you'll live an entirely different life whilst you are under. It sounded an awful lot like hallucinogenic drugs to me, and potentially dangerous. I needed the money, though, and I can think of much more difficult ways to make $500.00.\n\n\"Fifteen on the nose, sir!\" piped a younger man's voice. \"We're ready to begin now!\"\n\nI let out a long, slow breath through my nose and tried to ignore the incessant beeping of the myriad machines I was hooked up to. I watched a kind-looking man in a stark white lab coat slowly make his way toward my chair, administering the drug to each participant. It was a sickly green color and seemed to make the patients momentarily ill. It was momentary because they each would fall into a very peaceful-looking slumber mere seconds later.\n\nAs the gentleman approached my chair, my facade broke and I gripped the seat involuntarily, looking at him with wide eyes. I made no move to escape or anything like that. I had gone too far at this point. He smiled kindly at me and told me to relax.\n\n\"It will only be a few minutes. I promise it won't hurt. This drug has never harmed or killed any of the subjects we've tested it on. It'll be just like a very vivid dream.\"\n\nI relaxed slightly and he gave me a pat on the shoulder as he swabbed a spot on my arm with some alcohol. \n\nI recall feeling as though my insides were being ripped out through every available orifice on my body. I remember thinking to myself that I had changed my mind. I didn't want this. It hurt, I was terrified.\n\nThen suddenly, it was dark. Very, very dark. I could hear murmuring all around me. I was alive somewhere -- I knew that much. But I was no longer me. It was that moment that an abrupt sense of horror crashed over my subconscious like a tidal wave. \n\nYou'll live an entirely different life.\n\nBut it can't be, can it? How could they invent a drug that would do that? I don't remember being in utero -- no one does. How could a drug unlock such memories to recreate the experience so horrifyingly vividly? \n\nBut there was no denying what was happening, I felt the body that wasn't mine moving, and I heard screaming. I tried to block everything out and find some happy place, but there was no happiness. This was absolute hell. The worst possible nightmare that I could ever have imagined. \n\nI tried to scream but my lungs wouldn't allow it. Everywhere hurt. I receded mentally. Something snapped in that moment inside of me. I was horrified. Traumatized. I wanted this to stop. I needed to wake up. I tried to focus my mind on the sterile lab room with the men in white coats, willing myself to snap out of it, but to no avail.\n\nA bright light hit my extremely sensitive eyes, and I found that I could scream. So I did. A lot. \n\nFive minutes came and went and my mind would not wake up. My life had become moments of realization and horror mixed with moments of denial and acceptance. I tried to communicate with people, but I could not make my words make sense. By the time I was able to, of course, I was just a girl with an overactive imagination. \n\nI recall being a very small child at one point, and getting my hands on a sharp knife. My \"mother\" entered the kitchen and immediately went into panic mode, screaming at me and asking what happened as she tried to stanch the flow of blood pouring from my hand. My speech was still limited. I just couldn't make my thoughts turn into words. But I did manage to say, \"Not real! NOT REAL!\"\n\nNo one payed me any mind.\n\nEventually... I was forced to accept this new reality. I had no choice. This is just what was. Maybe I was an over-imaginative little girl. Who knows. Who cared? I just needed to feel normal again.\n\nI finally let go of all my \"alternate reality\" theories, much to the relief of the adults around me. \n\n\"I told you it was just a silly little phase!\" said the old woman who called herself my grandmother.\n\nLife wasn't terrible after I accepted it. I actually had a nice, loving family. I was extraordinarily intelligent for my age. I grasped concepts in school very fast, and was advanced two full grades, graduating high school at the top of my class.\n\n\"Where did all those brains come from!\" I remember my mother asking me one day. We locked eyes for a moment, and just for a second I could see real fear there. Like she and I were linked together in thought. Like she knew that I was different. She allowed herself a brief moment to consider the plausibility of my childhood claims. But years of therapy taught me to immediately push those thoughts out of my head.\n\n\"I don't know, I'm just lucky I guess!\"\n\nCollege came and went, and I went into the medical research field. I was particularly interested in oneirology, the study of dreams and how they relate to the brain. I didn't admit to anyone -- including myself -- why this interested me so.\n\nI'd lived a pretty decent life. However confused and disoriented some of it was. I had a first love, a first kiss. I learned to ride a bike and I grew up. I got married and I had kids. I watched them grow up and have their own kids. I grew old with the person that I loved. I watched him pass away peacefully.\n\nLife is okay I thought to myself as an extreme exhaustion came over me. I smiled at my eldest daughter, who had gorgeous hazel eyes which were presently brimmed with tears. \n\n\"I love you.\" I said to her, and sleep finally took me.\n\nThen I woke up.\n\nTo complete chaos.\n\nI sat bolt upright and looked around the white sterile room. I felt the hard, cold wood of the chair beneath me biting uncomfortably into my legs. Other people had risen from their chairs and began pulling IVs and wires out. Machines were blaring. People were screaming and crying, confused. Some of them were shouting names.\n\n\"MICHEAL! WHERE'S MICHEAL! WHERE AM I?\"\n\nSome young woman had retreated to a corner and was rocking back and forth with her hands over her ears, muttering \"This isn't real\" over and over again.\n\nI laid back down slowly and stared at the ceiling, promising myself to never, ever enter another drug trial again.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	10
https://www.reddit.com/r/todayilearned/comments/2mhayy/til_that_to_eliminate_all_the_elusive_invasive/	[WP] You are the gregarious Galapagos goat; tell us your story.	[ "It's been seven years since I saw another goat.\n\n\nSeven years of being alone, wondering if I will ever love again, or if I am confined to this wooden prison for the rest of my unnatural life.\n\n\nYou see, in addition to tracking my movements, the collar also linked into my brain. The hunters were hoping to use this to command me to find more goats. It backfired.\n\n\nInstead, I now understand human speak - although finer details of their life escapes me. I hope one day I'll be able to explain my life to another goat - or maybe even a human.\n\n\nUntil then, I simply remain, alone. I heard that a farmer from Russia has decided to buy me, though, so my days of hunting others is over. Maybe that's because there are no other goats left.\n\n\nI hope not.\n\n\nBut I wonder, when I am not depressed and instead quizzical, I wonder what life will be like in Russia.\n\n\nPerhaps there are other goats there.\n\n\nI heard that they now select their 'president' with a random chance, in Russia. I wonder how that works...\n\n\n-------------------------------------------\n\n\nSaw the opportunity to make a prequel to my 'Your country now selects leader by random raffle'. Took it. I think I did well.", "Everywhere I go, goats die.\n\nFrom a young age I travelled, searching for no more then a friend, a family, a home. \n\nHome, a word so foreign, yet so... familiar. I know I want a place to call home, but it seems as if some higher power has kept me alone.\n\nLoneliness eats at the soul. I feel my sanity leaving me with each day, with each friend that vanishes from my life as if -- BAA -- oh, oh I am sorry, that has happened more and more recently. I fear that soon it might take over.\n\nAnyway, it's been several weeks since I lost -- BAAA -- since I lost my last family; they had taken me in with love and then the next day a light came and I fell asleep. I awoke to a familiar site: an empty field -- my family was gone. Maybe they aren't baa-eing taken away, maybe they are simply leaving me. My aunt BAAaaa My Baa M-MY AUNT Maaarie, who had taken me in, said she considered me as one of her own, even though we had only known each other for a short while. She left too.\n\nI have almost found a new family, baa maybe Aunt Maaarie is just waiting there for me... I truly hope I -- baa --hope I get there baa soon before I lose my -- BAAAA -- my mind. It is slipping, but mAaaaybe this new faAaamily will make me whole again.\n\n\"Hey mom! Jay and I found a weird guy out by the creek!\" \n\"Well Braad, how is this goat any different from you or me? To call another goat weird is not nice, young goat. You better have been more polite to him in person.\" \n\"But Mom, he IS weird! He can't actually talk, he can only bleat!\"\n\nAnd so Braad`s mom followed her son to see the spectacle, and sure enough in a clearing by the creek was a goat. He wandered around aimlessly, pathetically bleating away his existance. No one knew his name, where he came from, or why he was there, but she pitied him and she stayed with him -- talked with him even though the attempt to communicate was not reciprocated.\n\nFor several days events remained the same, Brad`s mother talked with the stranger and he bleated. However, three days after his arrival a light appeared far off in the sky. Brad`s mother saw it and stood staring, confused and transfixed by the light's fast and constant movement through the air. Suddenly, the stranger stopped bleating. Alarmed, Brad`s mother snapped to his attention and to her surprise saw recognition in his eyes -- a tear. The light was just overhead now and as the world turned dark, she could have sworn she saw the stranger say goodbye, a single tear in his eye.\n\nIn an empty field stood a goat, he was all alone. He bleated and bleated, begging for a friend, a family, for someone to save him from his loneliness -- no one heard him.\n\nEdit: Sorry if I like spammed your inbox or some shit, my Reddit app bugged out and I think it sent it like a million times...\n\n\n\n\n", "'Hai yoo guys!'\n\n'Oh, great' bleated Steve to Kevin, 'It's Greg.'\n\n'Hai yoo guys! What'cha doin'?' Dribbled Greg thickly, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.\n\n'Hey Greg... Not much. We're just uh... Waiting' Grumbled Kevin.\n\n'Yep, nothing much happening here, Greg', concurred Steve, 'just us being dull.'\n\nSteve and Kevin looked knowingly at each other, they had to ditch Greg, he was a clingy wierdo with the social skills of a boiled turnip.\n\nGreg stared dumbly at them, his eyes blinking slightly out of sync with each other, 'Cool, yoo guys can I join in?!', he blurted.\n\n'We... Aren't doing anything for you to join in with, Greg', said Steve, nonplussed.\n\nGreg blinked, 'Yoo guys wanna see my thing?!' \n\n'NO! Greg, you woke me up in the middle of the night last week to show me a \"thing\" and it turned out to just to be your anus! I don't want to see your anus again, Greg!', shouted Kevin savagely.\n\nGreg seemed oblivious to the vitriol in Kevin's voice, ' It's a new thing, yoo guys! Look' Greg turned his large and slightly asymmetrical head so Kevin and Steve could see his neck.\n\n'Wh-What is that thing?', gasped Steve staring at the black plastic collar around Greg's neck.\n\n'Why's it beeping like tha-' Kevin's sentence was abruptly cut off as a lead slug entered his skull and erupted out again spraying his brains across the ground in a pulpy crimson arc.\n\n'HOLY SHI-!' Steve too was quickly silenced as his skull was blasted apart by a rifle round.\n\nGreg blinked, one eye a fraction of a second slower than the other.\n\nOver the ridge line he heard distant bleating.\n\n'Hai yoo guys!' he blared, turning and shambling awkwardly over the ridge, 'What'cha dooin', yoo guys?!'" ]	3
	[WP] You wake up to realize you are the last human being on earth. After weeks of exploring the empty streets, you suddenly see a man far off in the distance.	[ "Friday, 19 July 2019 (Day 49): So this is what seven weeks of freedom feels like? \n\nSunday, 21 July 2019 (Day 51): Not another person for 51 days! What a pity I had to wait fifty-six years to see it. \n\nWednesday, 24 July 2019 (Day 54): Things I don’t miss. 1. Body odour. 2. Loud conversations on cell phones. 3. Shit for brain shop assistants. 4. Mercedes drivers who think they can drive but can’t. 5. People who tell me they are so busy. 6. Crowded underground. \n\nThursday, 25 July 2019 (Day 55): Through the Harbour Tunnel. Paid no toll! Climbed to ICON penthouse suite. Just to look over the whole of Kowloon. Not a soul. Nothing moved. Things I don’t miss. 1. Flashing neon signs. \n\nSunday, 28 July 2019 (Day 58): Found some police hand guns. SIG Sauer P250. No idea what that means. With bullets. Packets of them. Will need them if dog numbers keep growing. Seem to see more each day. So far no trouble. \n\nMonday, 05 August 2019 (Day 66): Heard a rhythmic banging while I was in Sheung Wan today. Like a hammer on metal. I ran towards it but when I got close it stopped. If not man made, then what? Wind? An animal? Neither is likely. Another person? \n\nTuesday, 06 August 2019 (Day 67): I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. The binoculars are excellent. Pollution levels much diminished so I can see further than across the harbour. Things I don’t miss. 1. Smog. 2. Working. 3. Hong Kong tycoons. \n\nWednesday, 07 August 2019 (Day 68): Have been working my way north. Staying in Kam Tin. Thousands of stars visible. Barely saw them for my whole life here. \n\nFriday, 09 August 2019 (Day 70): Ten weeks of freedom. Practiced shooting. I am quite a good shot. Certainly made me realise how quiet and peaceful it is. \n\nSunday, 11 August 2019 (Day 72): Heard banging again. On and off all day. When I got close it would stop. Then start somewhere else. Will decide tomorrow; either go north to China or back south to Hong Kong Island. I have over 850 bullets. \n\nMonday, 12 August 2019 (Day 73): Walking along the railway track to Lo Wu and the banging started again. Someone – definitely not wind or an animal – banging metal on the railway iron. I put my ear and could hear it clearly. Hunting me? Good luck, my friend. \n\nTuesday, 13 August 2019 (Day 74): Up early. Walked quickly. Heard banging on rail line at 10:33am. Again at 11:45. Again at 12:10. Walking faster than me. Son of a bitch. He deserved what he got. I saw him in the distance. Jogging. Binoculars came in handy. He was tattooed. Muscular. Obviously thought he had a role in Mad Max. The dogs will eat him before I make Dongguan. ", "\"Hey!\" I yelled, waving.\nThe man waved back, but at that distance it was hard to tell if he had heard me or not. As I walked towards him, more of a fast-paced power walk, he seemed to come towards me as well. You can well imagine my elation as we got nearer to each other. The loneliness of the past few weeks finally seemed to subside.\n\nAs my heart raced and the distance closed between me and the man, I could almost imagine again the warmth of another. A hug. I could ask for a hug; that could give me some consolation after the empty horror of the past month or two.\n\nThe time had come. I could see him clearly. \n\nBut soon, my elation turned into horror. Then my horror slowly became a silent humor.\n\nThere's a whole world in here and it get a rather lonely. At least until he looks into the mirror to see his reflection again." ]	2
Tell me the story of how they died and their last moments.	[WP] God is dead. God died accidentally creating the universe. The Big Bang was it's death.	[ "\"Hey guys! Guys! Look at me, guys!\"\n\nA collective sigh goes up from the bar.\n\n\"What is it this time,\" one student asks, \"Another space-warping snow globe? Because we all know how that particular experiment worked out.\"\n\n\"Okay, I know that one was a bit faulty, but I'm pretty sure I've got this handled. All we do is press this big, red, non-threatening butto-\"", "First time Reddit contributor. Feedback (+/-) would be awesome. EDIT: Grammar & wording.\n\n/\\\n\n“I’d like to read a statement and then my team and I will take questions. Please, hold your questions until the end.”\n\nHis palms were sweating. He couldn't tell if it was because of the announcement, the hot lights, the gaze of fifteen cameras, or knowing a sizable portion of the world was watching him on live television. He’d practiced, over and over, being grilled by his peers. But just like no AAA game can prepare you for the World Series, nothing could prepare you for something like this. It'd been leaked to the media yesterday. He didn't want to think about how many people were watching the news, waiting for him to confirm the announcement.\n\nHe cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses, and began reading. \n\n“At 0800 this morning, a peer-edited journal article was released in Science which ties the formation of our universe to a physical act of sentient being. Using evidence collected at CERN in Geneva, Switzerland, over the last two decades, as well as new information generated at FERMILAB in the United States, patterns were found in the distribution of Dark Energy in our universe. Using advanced extrapolative tools, which my colleagues can discuss further in a few minutes, we began to trace these patterns back in time. They match patterns found during a worldwide, collaborative project to harness Dark Energy for power production. My objective today is to explain our research and its conclusions.”\n\nHis tone was too strong, he immediately knew. He was talking like a scientist. People weren't going to understand the science, at least not at first. They only needed to understand enough to begin thinking about what this meant for both them and all mankind. This isn’t information to be delivered by someone acting like stern professor. The world needed someone they could trust. Fate, unfortunately, chose him to be that person. \n\nHe took a breath. \n\n“For several decades astrophysicists have studied what’s commonly known as the Big Bang. It’s the idea that the entire universe, everything on Earth and light years away, came from a single explosion. As if a very special bomb had gone off from which everything, energy, matter, even gravity, came into existence. We believed Dark Matter and Dark Energy played a role, but had no way to be sure.”\n\nHe paused, forcing what appeared a caring smile, hoping his nervousness didn’t show.\n\n“Sixteen years ago Dr. David Privisoft of Cal Tech published research on Antiproton Explosions. Dr. Privisoft found that by analyzing antiproton acceleration during a computer simulation, he could trace the source through both time and space. Dr. Privisoft’s mathematics allowed physicists to understand when and where these special explosions had taken place. Think of placing a small bomb in a kitchen. Using Dr. Privisoft’s equations, we could analyze all of the broken appliances and plates from around the room, and decide both where the bomb had been sitting and how long ago it had exploded.”\n\n“Eleven years ago, as you likely know, CERN confirmed the direct detection of Dark Matter and Dark Energy. After the launch of the United States’ EXPRESS telescope, which was modified to detect large amounts of Dark Energy and Dark Matter, my team worked to analyze the distribution of materials throughout the universe.”\n\n“We discovered that the distribution of Dark Energy directly matches the distribution expected by Dr. Privisoft’s antiproton equations. We altered Dr. Privisoft’s equations to use Dark Energy rather than antiprotons. The results were surprising.”\n\nThat was a massive understatement. It should have been impossible. It still seemed impossible. At first everyone in the astrophysics community assumed it was just glitch in the Big Bang Theory. Little did we know it was the Big Bang. \n\n“The equations stated that Dark Energy and Dark Matter were present in very high concentrations nanoseconds before the Big Bang took place. Based on our prior conclusions, nothing, not even energy, existed before the Big Bang.”\n\n“It wasn’t until Classified research run by the US Department of Energy was shared with CERN that we came to our current discovery. The United States has, for five years, been conducting research attempting to harness the power of Dark Energy. The substance’s unique properties make it an ideal power source which would provide unlimited amounts of usable power for humankind. Last year, scientists made a breakthrough in containment of Dark Matter, from which it was believed Dark Energy could be generated.”\n\n“CERN, NASA, the United States Department of Defense, and the United States Department of Energy began large scale supercomputer simulations on possible Dark Energy reactor systems. Our simulations showed that each time a hypothetical Dark Energy reaction would take place, an uncontrollable chain reaction would ensue producing an incredibly small – a billionth of a micron in size – anomaly. With further analysis we found the anomaly would grow exponentially, compressing all energy and matter into a single point. After roughly a thousand years of exponential expansion, the anomaly would consume itself and implode. The implosion generated a pattern of Dark Energy consistent with Dr. Privisoft’s mathematics and all current theories of the Big Bang.”\n\n“We are announcing today that we have strong data suggesting a similar reaction formed our universe nearly 13.8 billion years ago.”\n\nHe looked up. Every reporter's hand shot up into the air. \n\nHe pointed to the woman in the front row.\n\n“Are you suggesting that our entire universe came into existence because of another advanced race’s fatal mistake?”\n\n“Yes, I am.”\n", "Why I am still alive and He is dead, I'm sure I will never know now.\n\nIt took us a long time to realise we had the power to do anything. We simply existed. When He moved for the first time, and he let go of my hand and grabbed my shoulder, I felt fear and excitement; the first emotions I had ever felt before. He inspired in me the belief that things were possible; that things that simply existed could be so much more. I felt no different to anything else around us. Not that I knew what we had around us then; light was something I could have never even imagined by myself.\n\nHe made these tiny single celled organisms, and planted them around him. If they survive this, He said; they will survive anything. He created light from his mind, a simple flame that lit up His entire being. He studied the effects of what organisms needed to survive - energy seemed to be the main one. Without a light source, any life would perish.\n\nHis plan was beautiful - when creating the universe, I'm pretty sure he knew he would die. He became very peaceful and serene, very final in his answers. He said to me; there shall be but one rule. Energy cannot be destroyed, it can only be transferred, and with this rule, there is hope of something far more beautiful than either of us can imagine. I have existed in this realm for long enough. It is time for me to be the beating heart of man and animal than will eventually come from these tiny, little cells. Mankind must grow, and history given to enrich their journey. All of a sudden, He became white light and I could see the most amazing designs and patterns and destruction and colours and beauty, and he was the energy of it all.\n\nI had hoped that every planet would achieve life, with differences in their patterns designs - but only two ever did. They are so far apart they will never meet each other. By the time the transmissions of earth reach FOGFBV254, it will have been destroyed by a sun that will eat the whole planet whole.\n\nA whole peoples, blissfully unaware that all of them are Him. All of them are God. All of them made in his image, their intelligence and destructiveness always interesting to me.\n\nWhat a shame it is, that they will never know.\n\n", "\"Just a little tweak here... another adjustment here... ahhhh, that should do it, that should do it!\" God took a step back and admired his work. \"This will be good, I can feel it.\"\n\nGod had been preparing his latest project: creation. He had invented a way to speed the process of becoming something from nothing from a few billion years to only 6 days. Which was great, God thought, because now he could rest on the last day. In fact God thought a lot of the things he did were great, and was very proud of his work. He only lacked people to share it with. God was becoming sick of the angels. All they do is sing me praises, they rarely offer any criticism. Do they think I can't take an honest critique? And so God set out to create beings whose hearts he could win. He didn't want blind faith, he wanted to move people, to have them believe in him because he had proved himself. \n\nGod cleared a space on his workshop floor and began to set up his model. Even though he had whittled down the time of creation to 6 days, it would be a very hands on experience. But smooth sailing after that! God smiled. He packed a canister full of materials to start the necessary reaction to create a universe. God figured that, with enough electricity, he could at least jumpstart the process and condense billions of years into a few days. He had already mapped out evolution, gravity, stars and planet positions; everything was going to be perfect. He had designed it like that. \n\nThe angels weren't impressed with electricity. They had witnessed God's lightning bolts before and they weren't impressed when God figured out how to convert lightning bolts into a current and store them as energy. \"We don't need lightbulbs, we live in Heaven. It's always light here.\"\n\nBut God was going to show them what energy can do! He clamped wires onto the canister and set it in the middle of his workshop. He then moved back to the wall where a large switch with the words ON/OFF and DANGER. NO, REALLY, I KNOW WE ARE IN HEAVEN BUT PLEASE BE CAREFUL was waiting to be pulled. God was giddy. Oh man, I can't wait for humankind to discover this stuff. They are really gonna get a kick out of this. \n\nGod then pulled the switch and God, and Heaven, and all its angels suddenly became evaporated in a cosmic bang. \n\n" ]	4
Maybe you have a super smart chimpanzee that knows sign language too.	[WP] You are working on the international space station and witness the destruction of mankind. You and three crew mates plan your futures.	[ "What strikes me the most is the silence. The serenity of it. Of course, when you’re floating 235 miles above the surface of the earth, everything seems serene. I’ve positioned myself in front of the large hexagonal viewing window in the Cupola module, and have neither moved nor spoken in several hours. I just watch the surface. The station passes over central Africa.\n\nNothing’s changed, really. From up here, everything looks the same as it always has. Though we’ve seemingly bared witness to the final days of the human race, there was nothing to really witness. The Atlantic is still vast and blue; the ice caps, small as they may now be, still that blinding shade of alabaster; clouds still swirl and currents still pull. Africa’s band of green is lush as it ever was, and its deserts still dusty. The only difference is that now the night side remains completely dark - there is no one left to keep the lights on. \n\nI kind of expected it all to end in fire or ice or biblical flood, leaving the earth scarred and disfigured. A nuclear war at the very least, so that we might get to see the slow sprouting of mushroom clouds. Even a Texas-sized comet would have sufficed. But all we’re given is silence. It’s the kind of quiet so heavy you can feel it’s weight on your eardrums, straining to rupture its way into your skull. \n\nIt’s been almost fifteen days since final contact with earth, and a month since we’ve heard from Houston. The last person we talked to phoned in from JAXA, the Japanese space program. Sascha, our Russian neuroscientist, had a working knowledge of Japanese and was able to hold a short, telegraphic conversation with the woman on the other end. We never found out the content of the majority of the interchange, though, because as soon as the transmission had terminated, he continued to stare at the com screen, unblinking and motionless. His breathing became deep and deliberate, and his hands began to tremble ever so slightly. He took off his headset.\n\n“Everyone is dead.” His voice was barely audible, yet I felt it almost deafening.\n\nA beat of silence.\n\n“What the fuck does that mean? Everyone in Japan? What about Houston? Did you ask about Rome?” Alessandra; the onboard Italian physicist. \n\n“Not just Japan. Everyone.”\n\n“What the fuck, Sascha? Che cazzo vuoi dire? What the fuck did she say to you?” Her voice was becoming increasingly more shrill. It began to break as she fought back tears. \n\n“Sascha! Answer me, bastardo! What the hell is happening? Why can’t we contact anybody on earth? What the fuck did she say to you?” \n\nHe stared blankly at her, blinked once, glanced at me, then turned and propelled himself out of the comms capsule without saying a word. She screamed after him, but did not give chase. Two minutes later, a red indicator on the control panel lit up. The loading bay airlock had been opened. Through a porthole window in the comms pod, we could just barely see where that particular airlock let out. I pressed my face against the thick glass, straining my vision to try to glimpse what had been ejected. I knew before I even saw it. \n\nA human figure drifted out. Sascha. Our space-walk suits take several hours to put on, and that’s with someone helping you. I didn’t have to look to know he wasn’t wearing one. He was not flailing, like you sometimes saw in the movies. He was entirely motionless, drifting further and further away from the open airlock. The pale of his bare forearms and legs seemed to light up when he passed from behind the shadow of the station and into the full gaze of the sun. \n\nAlessandra was in hysterics, and she disappeared out the exit tunnel. I don’t know where she went. I stayed next to that tiny port window and watched Sascha’s body sail away until I couldn’t see it anymore. I thought about when he kissed me in the Columbus module. It felt like decades ago, but it couldn’t have been more than a few weeks. His lips were dry and parched, but I didn’t mind. He was all flesh and bone and muscle and heart, and I needed him. I needed those rosy cheeks and wide fingernails.\n\n Now he’s just a little white silhouette doing slow cartwheels into infinity. It was only after I lost sight of him that I began to cry.\n\n———————————————————————————\n\nThat was fifteen days ago. \n\nNow I sit and watch the earth, imprisoned in this slowly decaying satellite. There are three of us left. Myself, Alessandra, and Kaspar, the Danish meteorologist. We still don’t know what happened on earth, but none of the 60+ governmental and private space agencies we’ve tried to contact have responded to our distress calls. We are running dangerously low on provisions, since we haven’t so much as seen a supply ship in over a month. Dehydrated food is carefully rationed among the three of us. \n\nI can see the western shore of the Indian subcontinent begin to creep over the horizon. \n\nThere's a hand on my shoulder. It’s large and vascular, with a firm but gentle grip; Kaspar. \n\n“Mark. Something came up. Something you need to see. Meet me in comms in 5 minutes.” \n\nI close the aperture of the Cupola observation window, watching the world disappear below me as the shutters extend over the glass. I wonder if I’ll ever feel the sweet tug of gravity again. \n\nWhen I reach the comms module, Alessandra and Kaspar are already there waiting for me. Neither of them say anything, they just turn their gaze to the laptop screen in front of them in unison. I float over behind Alessandra, and Kaspar opens a video transmission file. \n\n“I received this from Houston a few hours ago. I’ve watched it a few times, but wasn’t sure whether I should show you.”\n\n“Why the fuck wouldn’t you show us this immediately?” I demand. \n\n“I didn’t believe it. I don’t know if you’ll believe it. It doesn’t make sense.”\n\n“Just play the goddamn file,” Alessandra barks. “I can’t fucking believe you.”\n\nKaspar taps the space bar on the laptop to play the video.\n\nA man appears on screen. He’s only visible from the chest up, and speaks directly to the camera. He know’s who he’s talking to, but he is totally unfamiliar. None of us had ever seen him before, and I doubt that he even works for NASA. I wonder how he was able to get on premises without clearance, much less get into the central control room.\n\nHe begins speaking. He has this sort of breathy, staccato cadence to his voice. Northeastern accent.\n\nHe says his name is Elliot. He explains that he believes that he may be the last man alive on earth. Everybody else is dead. Not just in the US. Everywhere. About a months and a half ago, people started dying left and right. But not just dying; no, this was far deadlier and far more serious than some infectious virus or easily communicable bacterial disease.\n\nPeople were killing themselves en masse. No one had any explanation. It was a world-wide epidemic that wiped out 75% of the human population within two weeks. There was no ground-zero for the phenomenon, either; no origin. Independent incidents sprouted in disparate corners of the planet at seemingly the same moment. \n\nBut then, he says, someone had a theory. A theory that would explain this “worldwide suicide”, as he called it. He says that in the wake of the first wave of suicides, he met with a man, a botanist, who had seen this phenomenon happen in plants as a defensive mechanism against their herbivorous predators. He begins rambling about how the plants adapted and began targeting humans - their new greatest threat - with pheromones, toxins, which would trigger a self-destruction mechanism in the human brain, causing people to kill themselves in horrific ways. \n\nThen he stops talking suddenly. His eyes go blank and he stares into the camera, unseeing. He looks down at the control panel beneath his fingers, full of knobs, switches, keys, and sliders. He cranes his neck back as far as it will go, so that his back is arched back and he is looking at the ceiling, then swings back forward with full force and smashes his head down hard against the dashboard, out of view from the camera. We hear the thud. \n\nAlessandra and Kaspar both start, and there is a sharp intake of breath, though I don’t know from whom. \n\nElliot raises his head again, coming up bloody, with several deep lacerations on his face and head. Then he does it again. And again. And again. Kaspar has turned away, despite having watched the footage several times already. \n\nBy the 10th or 11th hit, the man is unrecognizable. By the 17th, he is losing consciousness. He hits the dashboard for the 21st - and final - time. His body slumps over and he falls to the ground. There are flecks of blood and organic matter on the camera lens. \n\nWith his body out of the way, we get a full view of mission control. On the other side of the room, on the edge of the screen almost out of view of the camera, we see a single, potted fern. \n\n“Oh God. It’s [Happened.](http://giphy.com/gifs/confused-huh-mark-wahlberg-zjQrmdlR9ZCM/fullscreen)\"", "The Earth had simply turned white, blindingly white, and then faded to a red haze. The last transmission we had heard from NASA came out garbled, with the only discernible phrase being \"Anonymous found the nuclear codes...targeted all corrupted individuals.\" We were unsure of what the message meant. Not anymore. Steve, Eric, and I were alone. The last three men standing from a planet of fools. \n\n\"So...who wants some warheads?\" asked Eric, offering some candy.", "In front of us, outside the window, the giant asteroid grew closer every \nsecond, and yeah, we saw when it hit the Pacific, hard as fuck, and the \nwaves – well... “waves”. They were waves in the same sense that a T-\nRex is a gecko – took over and spread through everywhere. The \nAmericas, first, then Europe. Continents drifted. Not like we read about \nin the school books, a millimeter every hundred thousand years, no. \nThey fucking drifted like Vin Diesel on a new Porsche, spinning sideways \nand clashing on one another in a fucking insane matter to witness, \nespecially from our vantage point (that is, the vantage point of people \nwho used to live in those continents). Fire, water, a shitload of debris, \nand a weird, weird silence as it all happened, and Earth became Earth \nThat Was (yeah, big Firefly fan. Shit, Joss Whedon died. I'm gonna have \nto deal with that, later).\n\nI turned to Dana, her eyed so wide she looked like Emma Stone on crack, and I smiled:\n\n“We should fuck.”\n\n“What?” She went from Emma Stone on crack to angry lemur in like ten milliseconds.\n\n“Come on, we need to restart the human race”.\n\n“Not with your genes, Thomas.”\n\nShe got up, leaving me by the window to watch the millions of thousands of little pieces of houses, and people, and whales and motorcycles and trees that used to be what I called home.\n\nWhat the fuck should we do now? Me, Dana, Toby (who is still asleep and unaware of what just happened, mind you) and Jesse.\n\nWatching the little firework show that once was home to the Lakers and Bon Jovi concerts, I wonder. We could, of course, head for the nearest wormhole or whatever, check shit out on other parts of the universe, find a nice place to settle. It would be like that Matthew Mcconaughey movie.\n\nThe Wolf of Wall Street, that is. Meaning I want to do a lot of drugs and fuck alien looking women senseless until we are dead on some small, little planet in the Andromeda Galaxy.\n\nBut Dana is gonna want to repopulate the human race. And Jess, that fucking smart chimp, he'd stand by her side, signaling with his big, fat, hairy hands that humans are bound to self-destruction, that self-awareness is an evolutionary tool with a built-in auto-destruct button, or whatever. That we should focus on survival, and all that nerdy stuff he talks about; I fucking hate the prick.\n\nFirst things first, though. I'm hungry. \n\nAnd the last McRib in the universe was just blown to pieces by an asteroid. Now what?\n\nI could make tacos.\n\nYeah, I'll fix something up in the kitchen, then I'll throw Dana and Jesse the life-long orgy idea on the Andromeda Galaxy. Who knows, maybe the --\n\n“Morning.”\n\n“Toby, hi.” This should be fun.\n\n“What's happening? Did Houston call?”\n\nOh, Toby. Where do I start?\n\n“Hey Toby, come here. Take a peek outside the window, will you? And try not to freak out. ”\n\n“What? Why would I – HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHERE IS EARTH?”\n\n“I know. I know. Hey, do you know how to make tacos?”\n\nToby fainted. I might have to Google how to make Tacos.\n\nOh, that's right. Shit.\n" ]	3
This prompt was inspired by an indie game I played a couple of months ago called Only If.	[WP] After a heavy night of drinking, you wake up on the living room floor but everyone is gone. There is one door. You go through it.	[ "I blink the sleep from my eyes as I try to figure out why my head and my back ache so horribly. Slowly I regain what little memory the drink hasn't erased. As I look around the room, I begin to realize that I have no earthly idea where I am. It looks like someone's living room. Strange, I think, that there's no kitchen or hallway. In fact there's nothing but a door, a window with a thick blackout curtain, a beat up wavy patterned couch, and an old tube television that couldn't be newer than the 80s. Where the hell did I end up? Why am I alone? I know I was drinking with David and Brent until some other guy walked in to my garage with some Tequila. That's when everything went fuzzy. The guys seemed to know who he was, and I was too drunk to care. I guess I should have known better\n\nWary of the whole situation and starting to panic, I reach for the dial on the TV. I click it to ON to no avail. It's dead. I try to pull back the curtain only to find that there's no window behind. The pounding in my head and the ringing in my ears gets worse as I walk towards the door. I start to shake. Something has to be wrong here, I think, but if I don't open the door I'll never know. I take a huge breath in, reach for the knob and pull. \n\nBlackness surrounds me. I don't know where I am. I can smell alcohol, and something else... Paint! But why? What is going on here? I can't see a thing, and I'm so scared I just sit down on the cold cement and start to cry. That's when the laughter started. \n\n\"What do you want from me!?\" I scream and the laughing gets louder, definitely from more than one person. Just as I'm about to lose all hope, I'm blinded with light, and drowned in laugher. Once my eyes adjust, I look around at my two friends and their new friend, all wearing paint clothes... In my garage... Standing next to the room they built around me while I was passed out... Assholes ", "\"Holy shit\" he says as he awakens from his drunken stupor. Looking around the empty room terrified, Jake screams out \"Where is everybody?!\" He sees a door, the only door in the room, and proceeds to jump up and sprint for it. Feeling the full magnitude of his insane hangover, he stumbles and falls. But instead of hitting the floor, he continues to fall for what feels like an eternity before splashing into a liquid. He manages to swim to the surface, looking to see where he is or for a way out, but can see nothing. Total darkness. Until suddenly, he sees an incredibly small light maybe 100 stories above him. \"That's the door\" Jake thinks to himself. He begins to swim for an edge or a wall to see if there is any way he can get up there to that door. No hope. He is stuck in this liquid... But what is it? He smells it, attempting to detect an aroma that would signify what the liquid is. \"Wait a minute,\" he says \"I know that smell.\" He takes a sip and exclaims \"holy shit! There's no way! The hell is going on?!\" It was whiskey, his drink of choice. A never ending pool of whiskey had him trapped with no escape. For hours he waded in that pool of liquor, trying to figure out how to get to that light, that door... But no luck. Angry and scared, he screamed out \"SOMEONE HELP ME!\" with no answer. More hours pass... No hope. But all of a sudden, Jakes' feet feel 10 times heavier than usual. Its getting harder for him to stay above the surface. Scared and unsure of what to do, he kicks harder and screams out for help louder than he ever has, but nothing changes. He begins to realize that this is it. This is how he dies. He begins to sink below the surface, drawing his last breath... BAM Jake wakes up, lying face down on the ground in the empty room. \"What the...\" He thinks to himself. He stands up and sees the door he had been staring at for hours down in that pool of whiskey that had drown him and begins to head towards it. All of a sudden, it swings open. \"Hey man! We were wonderin when you were gonna wake up!\" his friend says. Jake, completely confused, replies, \"Yeah, I didnt think i would.\" \"I think you might wanna consider staying away from alcohol for a while, dont you think?\" his friend asks. With his recent experience weighing heavily on his mind, Jake replies, \"I'm done man... Totally done,\" as they walk out the door. ", "I open my eyes and see that I am on the living room floor. I see a door. Why is there only one door?! Oh, mom always preferred archways instead of doors. Let's go through this door. Ouch this hangover is killing me. Hey, where's everybody? I feel compelled to go through this door. Let's go through this door. I pick my ass up off the floor and clumsily make my way to the door. I turn the knob. I push it open. Oh hey, it's outside.\n\nI go outside.\n\nExcept this time, I fall through the ground. I can feel that I am falling as if I will go on forever unless I hit something. My insides are trying to escape through my mouth at this point. What the hell is going on? I look up and see the bottom of my house. The house is getting smaller, the ground feels like the sky right now. It's so far I can never hope to reach it again. I dare not look down. What's down there?\n\nI muster all of my courage and I tilt my head. I try to \"swim\" in this void. I am still falling. I catch a glimpse of nothing. I look down and it's empty. This feels like nothing I've ever imagined. I was told to imagine \"nothingness\" once during a therapy session. I never could've imagined this. I look around again.\n\nI still couldn't feel the ground. I look up and the land I once stood on now looks like a distant moon. I give up. I close my eyes. I'll be with the void if this is my destiny. To disappear from this reality.\n\n**\n\nOh I'll be damned...\n\n\"Adam! Who told you to mess around with my computer?! Kids these days...\"\n\nLet's see... Ah, shit. He even managed to add a character to the scene AND* turn the \"Free Will\" setting on. Well, I haven't finished the level design for this chapter. Nothing interesting is going to happen anyway...\n\nWoah, how long has he been falling like that. Right... I haven't added any collision for the terrain outside.\n\nAlright, stop running now.\n\nclick\n\nDamn, even stopping it takes so much time. I guess it's time for a new computer.\n\n***\n\nSo I'm just a fictional character? Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit... I can feel myself dis-", "(First ever time I've responded to a Writing Prompt... first time I've ever actually tried to write something, outside of boring essays for college. Please criticise :D)\n\n\n\"Oh gods...\"\nI woke up, with a headache equivalent to an african tribe playing the drums in my head. I glanced around the room - my living room. Everything was clean and, more surprisingly, empty. I checked my watch. 12:00am. \n\nGathering my thoughts, somehow getting the african drummers in my head to be a little less noisy, I stood up. My clothes, my breath, my hair, it all played host to the lingering odour of alcohol - a mixture of vodka and beer. Since when did I drink beer? I glanced out of my window, and was greeted with the sun in the sky and an eerie silence. Staring out at the city, the quietest I had ever heard it be, a shiver came over me, and I had the strangest feeling of Deja Vu. I glanced at my watch - still 12:00am.\n\nThen it hit me. All of last night came flooding back... almost all of it, at least. The piles of Fosters cans. The wall of spirits, a mixture of Jack Daniels and Smirnoff. The 40+ people, crowded in my average sized apartment and balcony, all drinking, laughing and having a good time. Then, there was the downfall. The girls bringing up their entire dinner, all over my TV. That one guy, Mark, who everybody hates, peeing in my plant pot then falling over and getting it all over my carpet. My memories stopped when I checked my watch. 11:59PM\n\nI snapped out of the visions of last night, and back into reality. In the corner of my eye, I saw something appear. Turning around, I saw it was a door. A plain white door, yet it wasn't there a minute ago... come to think about it, I havn't seen a door in this room since I woke up.\n\nI step up to the door, and slowly extend my hand. The handle is hot, far hotter than it should have been, yet I find myself gripping it, unable to let go, opening it. I step forward, through the door... and I'm falling.\n\nFalling.\n\nAnd then, I wasn't.\nI glanced around. I saw Mark, finishing a can of beer, then saying something about how he wants to pee in my plant. I hear a girl shriek and scream she's going to puke. I glance at my watch.\n\n11:58pm.", "I struggle between my need for sleep and even more pressing need for hydration- mouth dry and rusted over with last nights leftover promise i attempt to stand up and blink away the pain. My head feels too empty and too full, like it's been stuffed with gauze. Full of something that's not really anything at all. \n\n There's a draft in the room and it's seeping through my white gown at an alarmingly rapid rate, chilling me violently. Taking in more of the room i search for a window, or anything really. One simple scrap of familiarity, i call out for my friends; \"Holly? Jess? Fucking anybody?\"\n\nI wait for a reply, for any sort of sound to dull the hollow feeling that's blanketing me. That's blanketing this whole empty room. \n\n There's a feeling building steadily inside me, welling up it begins to flood over the sides as a sudden shot of terror tears through me.\n\n Screams rip from my body as i sprint straight at one of four blank walls and fight with everything i have. My hands and feet ache as i punch, slap, and kick, the pain almost as strong as my need to leave. Almost, but now quite. Every time I feel as though i'm almost out it solidifies before me. My nails catch in plasterboard and rip from their fragile foundations, my body a canvas of blood and frustrated tears. I drop to the floor- i just want out. \n\n I hear a light ding that seems to echo throughout the room and my head shoots up as i search frantically for the source. I see an antiquated mobile phone on the floor and i dart for it as quickly as possible, picking it up carefully in my abused hands. The phone is completely empty except for one message, 'Wake up.' I try to reply, to ring out as the phone dies before me, the last seconds of battery draining as the screen goes blank. I turn around and throw it as hard as i can at the wall- the wall that had been bare seconds before and now seemingly has a door.\n\n I rush for it giddy and terrified in equal measure, how is this even possible? I reach a hand out for the doorknob when a moment of hesitant, but complete certainty surges through me. I know that whatever happens when i open this door will completely change my life, i know it and i pull the door open anyway. \n\n My every sense feels as though it's been assaulted, the room is brighter than anything I've ever seen before and i blink rapidly attempting to make out more than just hazy shadows. There's a steady beeping saturating the room, i can feel people rushing around me as i try to take greedy breaths that never really hit the mark- somethings ripped from my throat and my panicked lungs take their first shallow soother. \n \"Jane, can you hear me? Everything's going to be alright.\" \n\n(I genuinely did try to stick to the prompt...) \n", "I pushed aside the pizza box and whiskey bottle that laid next to my head. In a daze, the warm sun in the early winter woke me from my drunken slumber, again I realized how lonely I was when my cat begged for attention. Shoving her away, I rub my head as it ached so, sitting up I realized my door was stuck open. In a drunken panic, I struggled to recall the night before.\r\rMusic, a movie, my pizza. I stumbled to shut my door, turning I saw the figure on my couch. The morning sun reflected off the grey skin of the humanoid as he sat with his black eyes staring me down, and his lengthy limbs resting on my coffee table. " ]	6
	[WP] A Teenager finds out that his best friend is actually his son from the future, come to prevent a great disaster caused by his future wife/his "friend's" mother. The problem is; the "friend" was sent too far back and neither of them know who the mother is	[ "Hey dude how was ur date? -justin\n\nNot over yet..... ;) ill tell you tomorrow, we still on for the gym at 8? -luke\n\nyep. Have fun...Gotta talk to you about something then-Justin\n\nJustin sighed, throwing his phone onto his bed. When he had first been assigned to this mission, it had seemed easy. All he had to do, according to their calculations and detailed analyzation of his mom's life, was to prevent his mom from accepting the necklace from her brother Dylan. He still did not completely understand how exactly this would prevent everything that would happen, but it apparently was crucial to the prevention of the event. They had attempted to send him to the party where the necklace was to be given. But by some error, he had instead been sent 18 years early. Without any contact Justin had decided to play the role of the best friend, easy to do because of their similar interests, and to attempt to keep a close watch on Luke and any of his many girls. But of course his dad would be Luke, a man who after Mary-Ann rarely had more than a few dates or a hookup with any other girl. Luke would never understand the possible consequences of the situation. If only he could remember any of the stats on the true identity of his mother.\n\n\"Only two more sets! Come on man let's go!\" yelled Justin, attracting attention from the other people working out, \"Nice job.\"\n\"so I got a weird text from Tara this morning\" Said luke, chugging water with one hand and wiping sweat.\n\"yeah?\" said justin, looking at him with concern, not liking the tone in his voice\n\"she said her period is late.\" luke sighed, \"That was the worst night of my life. And to make it worse she's been dating some guy for 4 years, he'd kill me if he knew.\" Luke looked down.\n\"Hey man it's okay. Wait a couple days, cycles can be crazy.\" said Justin, doing some mental math in his head, wondering if this was how his older sister Tina came to be... but the numbers didn't match.\n\"yeah I guess... What'd you wanna talk to me about\" \n\"This is kind of a shitty time but it needs to happen at some point. I don't know how to explain this but what if I told you I was from the future, sent back to stop a horrendous event from occurring\"\n\" Hahhaha how high are you?\"\n\"No. I'm being serious.\"\nLuke looked at him with concern in his eyes, either Justin had gone crazy, or he was telling the truth, but Justing did not lie. \"Okay i'll hear you out\"\n\"your future wife will receive a necklace in a few years, with a green diamond in it from her brother dylan.\" Justin continued describing the necklace in detail, explaining how this necklace would cause the events. \"But I have been sent back to prevent her from receiving this gift, only I don't know who the mystery woman is, and I'm not in the right time.\" \n\n\"Justin are you okay? This all seems pretty crazy, do you feel SHIT Tara just walked in. I'm sorry but I really need to talk to her. Stay right here we need to finish this convo\" Luke walked rapidly over to Tara, before he could even say hi she said \"it's okay I just got it, check your phone we're safe. Dylan and I broke up by the way, I'm happy because I needed a way out of that relationship, I just was too scared to ever do it. I'm sorry to ever have involved you, we were both way too drunk that night. Anyways I dont know what to do, Dylan gave me this really expensive necklace and I feel like I should give it back to him, along with his sweatshirts and such.\" Tara said, running her fingers along the chain. Luke's jaw dropped, the necklace on Tara's neck was the necklace that Justin had just been describing to him.\n\"Does Dylan have a a a sister?\" stuttered Luke\n\n", "Great prompt.\n\nWe agreed to meet once a week, Brian and I. Once a week, I would go to his apartment with an accordion folder full of the notes we had accumulated in the weeks since I had arrived, and he would tell me about what he’s been up to. Whom he met, what he did at work, what he ate. He kept notes. He said he had a good memory, but I told him to take notes. He kept a map of the city tacked up in his bedroom with a surfeit of post-it notes, thumbtacks, and twine indicating his every movement. He recorded phone conversations. He never threw away receipts.\n\nThere was no question in our minds that the information was useless; that, when he met my mother, she would have no relation to the conversation Brian had with his boss on Tuesday, to the cashier at the bodega who didn’t have the time to handwrite a receipt after his machine ran out of ink on Wednesday morning, to the woman sitting next to him at the bar on Saturday evening who asked if he recognized the song that played. We agreed, however, that when choosing between preparation and surprise, we both preferred preparation. “Just like your old man,” he said, reaching up to tousle my hair. I batted his hand away, and said that my mother must be tall. He agreed.\n\nI bought books on genetics. My mother had blue eyes. She had European ancestry and detached earlobes. She likely was a brunette, but a blonde was not out of the question; she was not a redhead. I went to hospitals, labs, universities. No disposition to familial genetic disease. She was tall, but I knew that. There was more, but it wouldn’t help.\n\nAfter our meetings, Brian and I went to a bar, a new one every week. Brian approached women; so did I. He had to be prepared for when he met my mother, no matter the circumstances. He needed to be confident and comfortable in his own skin. He needed to refine his preferences. He was to become a man of intention. We both knew it was a charade. Among the empty glasses, he confided that he hoped he would never meet her. I agreed.\n\n“Do we just keep doing this indefinitely?”\n\nI finished my beer. “I don’t see another way.” When he remained silent, I said, “Unless you have a better plan.”\n\nHe shook his head.\n\nI said, “You’re 25. The average man marries at 29. We probably don’t have to do this for long.”\n\n“It’s weird to think about.”\n\n“That you have quite possibly the worst taste in women imaginable?”\n\nThat managed to make him laugh. “No,” he said. “This. This project we have.”\n\n“I know. I’m sorry to put you in this position, but I didn’t have much of a choice.”\n\n“Well, don’t apologize. The way I see it, most people go through life clinging to the hope that there’s someone out there for them, some singular person for whom they’re destined. Me? I don’t have to hope. I just have to wait.”\n\nWe still meet once a week, and we still get drinks after at a different bar each time. Our meetings are more informal. Every time, there are fewer post-its on the map, fewer sheets of notes to stuff in my folder. We make more jokes, the way we did when I first arrived. There are moments, when he spends the night with a new woman, when my heart seizes and I swallow hard. I believe he feels the same way when he wakes up beside her, weary from a night of drinking and of passion, and brushes the hair from her face so he can see her blue eyes as they gaze at him. And when she asks to see him again, he is stricken by a moment of doubt, and she can read it in his face, and when she leaves, he sits and cries and sometimes he calls me so that I’ll tell him that he did the right thing, and when he calms down and hangs up, I add her name to a sheet of paper and file it away.\n" ]	2
	[WP] You age up every sentence. Write a love story.	[ "I never thought that a girl this pretty would be tutoring me in math, while she was drunk.\n\nA year's gone by, and while college is fun, I do kind of miss her.\n\nShe was so happy to find out that we were living just down the hall from each other.\n\nThe only time I remember being genuinely happy was while watching movies in bed, with her wearing sweatpants and no makeup by my side.\n\nShe tells me she loves me, but I know that I love her differently and that I'm better off without her.\n\nI still think about her sometimes.", "The winter that she was born, the snow swirled around her carrier in greeting when her parents brought her home; he took his first hesitant steps into the safety of his mother’s arms. She grew quickly-almost too quickly –as she started primary school with a grin on her face and a chirpy voice that greeted him with, “What you name?” and he answered with, “What’s yours?”\n\nThe two had grown out of action figures and Barbies a few winters ago, but still, every first-day-of-winter, they played together until the sun went down; this year, they went skating. The next year’s first-day-of-winter was the first time that she had spent it alone in her room.\n\nTo her, middle school was a blur of boys and bad decisions, of late nights with girlfriends and tentative kisses; to him, it was spent in an eternal summer that turned his snowy childhood into a tantalizing dreamland filled with laughter and light. High school was different- they both drifted, confused and unsure, wondering when they’d meet someone with whom to share each blustery day.\n\nShe graduated college in the spring; he took an extra semester of philosophy to figure out what he wanted to do. The next snowfall, they both took a leap of faith and moved away to start their new careers.\n\nSkating had always been her favourite when she was younger, so it was only fitting that, as she stepped onto a rink for the first time in years, she heard a familiar voice jokingly say, “Hey, what’s your name again?”\n\nHer wrinkled hand reached out to touch his cheek for the third time that hour- he remembered their youth when she would caress his cheek before they kissed –but this was as she stuttered, “Hello... what... what you name?”\n\nAs he stared at the snow flying past his window, he knew he’d always remember her.", "In the year of 1996, two people, a boy and a girl, came into the light of this world as healthy human beings, on different days in different cities to different mothers, their existences seemed diametrically disparate. The boy, dressed in his Catholic school uniform with a Power Rangers backpack strapped over his spine, is excited for his first day of Kindergarten meanwhile a week later the girl, too, feels the same excitement. Now both Freshmen they attend the same high school, they share an Algebra class, but besides asking about the homework, never utter a word to each other. Junior year arrives and each day, they begin to talk more and more. They are about to graduate and the boy, realizing he has developed feelings for her, thinks about telling her, but graduation passes and he punches himself for thinking twice, the first guess is always right. First day of college, the boy enters his English class, frozen in time, he sees the girl across the room and decides to sit beside her-- he turns in her direction and says, \"You want to get some lunch later?\"" ]	3
	[WP] "We were always afraid of monsters lurking in dark corners; we never thought to worry about the ones hiding in plain sight."	[ "I wrote a song for this prompt. The lyrics are below; you can listen [here](http://clyp.it/iyprodvu).\n\nThe Monsters Hiding In Plain Sight \nI just knew some Prince Charming would take you away. \nHe'd have a sword and a white horse; I'd be the dragon he'd slay. \nI was so afraid of monsters lurking in the dark night \nI forget the ones hiding in plain sight. \nI was waiting for a wave to knock down my walls of sand. \nI defended you from a sea of men the best I can. \nCHORUS \nWhen you walked out by your own choice, I didn't make a sound. \nI was too surprised to put up a fight; my weapons were aimed at the wrong ground. \nCHORUS ", "God, I was tired.\n\nSnow had been falling for days. If I hadn't of already been at the station when it started then the Guard surely would've had to dig me out. \n\nThere was an advisory out - \"STAY INDOORS UNLESS ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY\". Fat lot of fuck that did. Whether it's buying gifts for the holidays (can't miss that killer sale on DVD players), to replenish an empty liquor cabinet (for the loved and the lost), or just plain stupid being stupid (goddamn high school kids think they're invincible on the roads), the white fist of God smashing into the Earth did little to stop people from getting themselves hurt.\n\nThe lady and her DVD player slid off the side of a steep embankment into a creek about a hundred feet down. The car crashed through the ice like a bullet through a body. Her damn DVD player was floating amidst the wreckage. The cold had made the woman's features waxy and dull, like a dirty glass. We found a bunch of Disney movies in a bag that was frozen to her chest in an icy death grip. She must have thought she could save them before the cold took her. I tried not to think about the kids who weren't getting their movies or their mom tonight.\n\nWe found the man huddled into a makeshift shelter of coats, blankets, and some kind of tarp. He died behind a mausoleum in the old Frankwood cemetery, a half empty bottle of bourbon clutched in his hands. The tears had frozen to his face. We didn't know who he was crying for, or if anyone would cry for him.\n\nThe kids were a nuisance but they usually kept to abandoned parking lots and rarely caused too much damage. It wasn't surprising to see different colors of paint bashed into the k-rails after the snow melted. But one kid took the fun too far. His arm had been crushed beneath him when he rolled his Jeep and slid into the only other vehicle around: a parked semi. Unlucky bastard.\n\nThese were the thoughts that clouded my mind as I drove bleary eyed along the icy streets, my mind dipping sweetly into a soft and pleasant haze. Despite non stop salt and plows, the great white just continue to pile on. My eyes flickered.\n\nI had been an EMT for about two years now and-\n\nSomething slammed into my car and rolled across the roof, the metal top crumpling and creaking against the weight. I slammed on my brakes and then cursed myself as I started fishtailing wildly. Finally, my heart punching through my chest and my eyes registering every single snowflake through the cracked windshield in front of me... I came to a stop.\n\nI took a long breath. Then another. My heart was beating hard, each thud a picture in a slide show playing in my head- my recollection of the crash. My mind stuck on an image like a sticker to glass- a pair of bright, green gloves.\n\nShaking now, I opened the door and stepped numbly out into the cold, my balance slipping a little. We were the only two souls around. Me and the person in the blue coat. My breath came up short when I saw, dimly, in the glow of the rear lights: fingers twisted in unnatural shapes, adorned with bright green gloves. Her foot was twitching- I could see it was a woman now- and I heard something sickening. It was her. She was trying to breathe but the air wasn't coming in. Somewhere in the far reaches of my mind, I heard an echo of myself saying, \"Female, 20-25, presenting with a multiple fractures, a possible collapsed lung, minor lacerations...\"\n\nI stood there and watched as the woman died.\n\nThe empty bottle of bourbon I had been clutching so tightly in my hand slipped out and landed with a hollow \"clunk\" on the icy street. Silently, slowly, I walked back to my car, nearly tripping on an empty beer can that must have fallen out when I had opened my door.\n\nI drove home, crying. Whether for the girl or myself, I didn't know.", "There was crash from the floor below my bed, making my eyes pop open. my breathing hitched as I heard the creaking of the floor boards at the base of the stairs, I knew that creaking sound well enough to know someone stood at the bottom of my staircase. I slowly peeled myself out of bed with stiff movements trying not to alert the intruder. I glued myself to the closest wall, my ears straining to pick up the slightest sound over my erratic breathing. at first nothing could be heard but then came the soft groan of the carpeted stairs being taken one by one slowly. I crawled along the wall to my bedroom door placing myself in the threshold of my closet behind it. soft footfalls sounded from the hallway in front of my room, instinctively I looked to the bottom of the door but there was not lights on to reveal the slightest of shadows. my heart thundered through my chest while I swallowed back sobs. I was stuck, I wouldn't make it to the window before being caught, there was no way out. the sound of my doorknob being turned nearly had me fainting, my eyes struggled against the darkness to make shape of the opening door. I covered my mouth to hide my erratic breathing while a mass slowly slunk through my door. my wide eyes slowly adjusted to the hulking figure moving silently through my room to my bed that lay vacant. crossing through a soft blue filtering through my window from the moon the man became all the more terrifying. he was dressed in all black and his hands were suited with black leather gloves, he looked like he just walked out of a horror movie. I was sure I was going to die in the next moment as he drew nearer to my bed realizing I was not in it. reaching out into the darkness he found my bedside lamp clicking it on sending a soft glow throughout the room. slowly he began to scan the room in front of him taking in all of my belongings. my brain was telling me to run for it, to get the hell away before he found me right behind him but I was rooted to the spot by a deadly fear. he slowly turned to the side to approach my dresser, giving me a profile view of the man who was about to kill me. my world shifted and causing me to inhale harshly causing this man to finally face me, but the face leering at me was one all to familiar. it was the man I thought I loved and trusted; it was my boyfriend and now murderer. ", "\"Daddy,\" Michael whimpered, \"Daddy, please don't go. There's a monster under my bed.\"\n\nMichael's father retreated from the open door and came to loom over his son. \"Now, now,\" he said, \"what makes you say that?\"\n\n\"I don't know, dad, there just is. It's waiting for me to push my legs out and then it's gonna eat me...\"\n\nThe dad let out a bemused sigh. \"We all feel like that sometimes, son. But let me tell you a little secret: it's not the monsters we're really afraid of. There are no monsters under your bed. You're afraid of the monsters inside your head.\"\n\nMichael titled his face in oblivious wonder. \"The monsters... are in my head?\"\n\n\"They are, son. They've always been there and they always will be. You just have to figure out how to tame them.\" And with such knowledge imparted, the father kissed his son on the forehead and left his room. \"Sweet dreams, now.\"\n\nMichael lay on his bed, thinking.\n\nSo the monsters aren't really under my bed, even though I think that's true... they exist only because I think so. If I stop thinking they exist, they'll disappear.\n\nThe little boy closed his eyes tight, and with all his might, he wished the monsters away. No such thing, it's just me. Only, me.\n\nMichael opened his eyes. His foot was hovering over the edge of his bed. He instinctively pulled it inside.\n\nOh my God, he thought. I can't get away." ]	4
	[WP] A woman was just killed in a hit and run. Make me feel like the driver had no other choice.	[ "The rain was pouring down again, and Hannah was disgusted by it. That's how the weather was though, this time of year in Detroit. As bad as today had been, Hannah had a worse evening still ahead, when she exited the freeway on her way to her babies daddies mothers house. Today all around had just been a dreadful day for her. Her fathers extended stay in the hospital had been on her mind for the last week, her boss was an asshole, and wouldn't give her time off to spend with him and to top it off she had her working extra hours. Hanna wasn't even supposed to be off shift right now, but the last 25 minutes had changed that. Hannah was a nurse at the free clinic, it didn't pay much, it was disturbing work, she could get sick, but she'd dedicated herself to the medical field. She saw the peoples aching faces and her heart would break for them, knowing that the clinic wasn't going to be able to do much. Tonight however, her thoughts we're suddenly overwhelmed with emotions. \n\nRuth, Hannah's babies daddies mother, called the clinic to speak to her, and was placed on hold and forgotten about by Hannahs boss for 40 minutes. Hannah only picked up the phone line on accident when she was trying to call out for one of the patients medical files. Ruth was furious, and talking a mile a minute, about how the police had arrested Garret, Hanna's babies father. Half the conversation was Ruth frantically trying to explain how Garret was innocent this time, and how he'd be right back out of jail, when Hannah finally managed to get a question in about the twins. \"Where are the twins? Did the police take them to the station? Who has them?\" asked Hannah. \"They're here with me, they are sleeping, have been since the whole ordeal. Hannah, I know these are hard times, and you and Garret had hardly been getting by much less along, but we can't keep the babies here. Oh we do love them, but Hanks social security isn't that much.... we're on a fixed income. Garret never had much money, but he did use it on those boys, and that's why we were able to allow them to stay here, but Garrets going to be needing that money for his lawyer now.\"\n\nWith that one phone call, Hannah's world just fell apart. Her and Garret had been separated, but did a fairly alright job of sharing the kids. Hannah knew what Garret did, but she was never about to tell on him, she knew he loved being a father. She'd also wondered what she would do if something like this would come up. Of course, she'd always thought she'd have her father for support, but now.... The gravity of the situation sinking in. \n\nShe burst into tears, right in front of the lobby. The woman who had been waiting for the medical files she'd been calling about looked sickly, but a concerned look came across her face. \"Deary, oh it's ok, we all have days when the world falls down on us......\" she leaned over, almost to hug Hanna, \"we just drive on. The world depends on us, we must just drive on. \" Hannah looked up at the elderly woman, who looked tired and ill herself. \"Thank you,\" she got out softly in between sobs. \n\nJust then Hanna's boss shouted. \"Hannah, we have people dying to get in here, and your still on the phone for one stiffs file! What was her name?,\" she shouted from the hallway door to Hannah. \"My name is Margret Ann Tiller, while I may be stiffer than that thing you call a penis, I've got more than enough life left in me to knock some manners into you, young man! This poor girl just received some rather grave news, she's trying to hold herself together, and your over here, screaming like a monster, you should be ashamed!\" At this point, Hanna's boss thought it must have had something to do with her father, and really did feel like an asshole. \"Hanna, go take care of what you need to. I've sent the files for Mrs. Tiller already, they'll arrive at your computer in a few moments, I'll come back in here and go over them with her in just a while. I've heard a little about whats going on with you. Give me a call, we'll get you back in here when things settle down. Sorry about your father.\" With a kind of heartfelt shrug, she left the room.\n\n\"I hope I didn't get you in any trouble, I've had rough days too,\" the old woman said. \"It's ok, things will be fine. I guess she will come out here, so I'm just going to get my things and be out of your way here. That rain is probably going to make this drive hell,\" said Hannah. \"How far are you going dear? Should someone come get you, you look quiet upset?\" she asked. \"I have to go pick up my babies, they were with their father and his parents, I can't leave them there, they won't be able to handle the kids when they wake up full of energy. They're downtown, and the weathers made a complete mess of the freeways, they said nothings moving past 36th St. and I have to go further, to 42nd,\" Hannah replied regaining her calm. \"Oh get off on Shelton! If you go right, you'll see the mission, make a left, I think the street is called Marrow, and follow it clear down. I use it to go to the bank on 51st, wasn't much traffic on it. People tend to avoid it because there's no streetlights or signs saying where it leads to ahead, but it's a great shortcut,\" the old woman offered. Hannah was already standing up to leave, reaching for her keys when she saw the file blink up on the computer screen. Hannah didn't care to look, she didn't mean to look, she wanted to be out of there before anymore bad news could come her way..... but the file read: Margret Ann Tiller, age: 67, diagnosis: Lung Cancer, Status: In-operable. Hannah realized the woman that came to her aid, was dying, and she didn't even know it. She looked away from the screen, feeling herself losing her nerve. She stuffed her keys into her purse, \"I'll try it. Thank you very much miss, have a good night,\" she said and made her way out toward her car. \n\n*** I can see I'm getting carried away, I have an end, but I haven't figured out how I'm going to connect all the dots, and I'm not sure any ones going to read this.... should I go on? *******************************", "There were ten babies in the middle of the road and the driver swerved to miss them. Unfortunately, while swerving he hit the mother of the ten babies and killed her. He was going to stop but his car went flying off the side of the bridge and landed on a boat passing underneath. The boat was headed to China and the captain said, \"We are stopping for nothing. You must now work your way as a slave until you pay your ticket to China.\" \n\nSo the hit and run was unavoidable and the dead lady is stupid for leaving her ten babies in the middle of a road. ", "From the alleyway Butlersrevenge watched as the police cordon was rolled across the street by a morose officer. The body of the woman was gone, hastened to the hospital though her fight for life was already lost, but her ghost lingered in the carnage of the scene and it had hit him hard; though not as hard as the car had hit her. Turning, the driver of the car ran from the scene before more officers arrived. I had no other choice, he thought, I had no other choice!\n\nButlersrevenge ran through alleys and slowed to a walk as he hit a main road. He rearranged his hair on his balding head and looked around him as a fox would look for hounds. A police car turned a corner up ahead. Looking around frantically he spotted the entrance to an internet cafe. He went inside.\n\nHe needed to calm his frayed nerves. He sat at a computer and his shaking hands typed reddit.com/r/writingprompts into the address bar. Some well-written stories by a group of lovely and intelligent people would calm him, he knew. But that's when he saw the new submission, under an hour old, staring out at him like the eyes of the woman he had just killed. How? How did he know?\n\n \n\nAfter climbing through his window, Butlersrevenge stood behind VIOLENT_POOP with a gun in his hand and desperation in his heart. The dark stinky room was littered with pizza boxes and brightly coloured My Little Pony dolls sat grinning from shelves. He had to move used tissues aside with the toe of his boot to creep toward the computer, sneering at the now hard paper as it crumpled underfoot. The sound of unlatching the safety caught OP's attention and slowly, wide-eyed, he turned around. After what seemed an age, Butlersrevenge found his voice: 'I had no other choice...I HAD NO OTHER CHOICE!' \n\nButlersrevenge's hand trembled as the humanity of VIOLENT_POOP looked out at him imploringly. A puddle appeared first under the sitting man, then slowly dripped to the floor. OP gulped...'OK, man. It's OK, I believe you!'. Seconds passed like hours: 'I ain't gonna tell nobody. No way! Don't you worry.' The smell of ammonia filled the room. The thought occurred to Butlersrevenge that he could never be sure OP wouldn't change his mind later. He knew what he had to do.", "I watched dispassionately as the car slammed into Giang from the front, sending her flying into the air, tumbling over the hood and roof of the car before crumpling into a bleeding heap on the concrete ground. She twitched and groaned briefly, barely audible over the scream of the tires as the car drove out of our compound. \n\nGiang's limbs and spine were bent at unnatural angles. There was a huge dent in her skull. There was no way she was going to live. I didn't care. Not any more. There was a time when I would've done anything she'd told me to, but that was in the past. Now she was dead—or, rather, she would be soon—and the world was better off for it. \n\nI turned my back to the dying woman and made my way back into the warehouse. The air was still thick with the stench of blood, sweat, and sex. You could probably burn this whole building to the ground, and the miasma would still be there. \n\nI passed a row of dirty mattresses, each bearing fresh stains from the abuses that had taken place on them just a few hours ago. This was where the girls had slept, when they were allowed to. When they weren't being forced to service an endless parade of men, in the most horrifyingly degrading ways ever known. \n\nI sauntered into the dark offices of the warehouse, carefully picking my way across the piles of papers and crates, illuminated only by the glow of the security monitors. I made my way to the security station. Giang's pathetically broken body was visible on one of them. She wasn't moving any more. \n\nI rewinded the security tapes, looking for the sections I needed. I had to go all the way to the start of the day's recordings, from 7am. That's when Giang had come into the warehouse to rouse the four girls from their sleep. She accomplished this by dumping buckets of water over them. The oldest girl, Shelly, leapt up with a screech. She was just sixteen, less than half my age. I hated myself for my role in her predicament. I hated the fact that I had been the one to have met her in that bar, the one who had tricked her into coming to this living hell. \n\nThe other three girls, Jenny, Claire, and Sammi, were soon awake too. I watched as they curled up into terrified balls on their mattresses, trying desperately to hide their bodies with the rags that served as clothing. Giang was yelling in Vietnamese at them. I knew enough of the language to know that she was telling them to behave, that this was their lot in life now. \n\nAnd then I appeared on the monitors. I handed food to the girls. It wasn't enough, of course. Giang liked to keep the girls hungry, it meant they had less strength to resist or run away. I looked at my face, my blank expression of acceptance. What was it like for Shelly and the other girls, to see the man they trusted become one of their tormenters? To watch him go about the vile business of sexual slavery, as if they were less than human? \n\nAnd then the monitors showed the day's business. Vietnamese men came to the warehouse, and Giang and I collected their payment, and then they would be allowed a set period of time with a girl. Half an hour. An hour. Some men even liked to show off their wealth or virility by buying two or three hours at once. They must've thought we would assume they'd be going at it for hours at a time, but the security cameras never lied. I suppose the girls might even prefer men like this, men who would last for a few minutes, then lounge around for the next two hours. At least that'd be two hours where the girls would be free from molestation. \n\nBusiness continued until nearly midnight. I came in again, after the last man had left, and gave the girls some more food. The glowing monitor showed Shelly speaking to me. She hadn't spoken a single word to me since leaving the bar two weeks ago... until tonight. Her voice was too soft to be picked up by the cameras, but I remembered what she said. I would remember it for the rest of my life. \n\n\"Danny... she's going to kill us, isn't she? Giang's going to kill us?\" \n\nI watched myself freeze on the screen. My mouth hung open stupidly. I didn't know how to answer. Shelly hung her head and continued, her voice barely a whisper, \"I know it'll happen. When the johns get tired of us, Giang will need to replace us. She'll have no use for us any more, and she can't risk letting us go. I don't care any more. But the others... Claire, and Sammi, and Jenny... they're so young. It's not fair for them to die.\" \n\nShelly looked up at me, her eyes bloodshot and lined. \"Danny... I don't care what happens to me. But you have to get them out. It's not right for them to be in here. It's not right for them to die like this.\" \n\nI could still feel that moment of shining clarity, when I could no longer dispassionately distance myself from the horrors that took place in here. The moment I realized that I was sending good people to a living hell and then condemning them to death, all for a few measly pieces of green paper. \n\nI watched as I walked out of the warehouse without a word. Shelly's head drooped again in exhaustion and despair. A few minutes later, I returned. I was holding a set of keys. I unlocked the chains on the girls' ankles, then handed a set of car keys to Shelly. I pointed at Giang's car, just outside the warehouse. \n\nThe girls carefully made their way to the car, unlocked it, and slipped inside. The sound of the car's ignition was like the roar of an alarm. Giang came sprinting into the camera's shot. She planted herself between the car and the front gate. The car didn't even slow down as it plowed through her. I wondered if that felt good to Shelly. I wondered if the shattering of Giang's body would give the girls some measure of catharsis. \n\nI copied the video file to a USB drive, then slipped it into my pocket. The Vietnamese authorities would no doubt be very interested in seeing it. No doubt they'd throw me in jail. No doubt they'd make a big deal about foreign men coming to Vietnam and helping to trap foreign girls in sexual slavery. I didn't care. It was true. I had helped put these girls through hell, and it's time I made amends. \n\nI just hoped Shelly had made it to safety, with the rest of the girls, in Giang's car. ", "The instant I felt the impact there was no other outcome, she was dead. I didn't stop. \n\nThe car barely survived. The front passenger's side tire protested my continued pace as the dented fender scraped into the rubber. It didn't help I had to navigate this unfamiliar gravel road in the dark in a car I'd never driven. On top of that the power steering either didn't work or the car was too old to even have it, and my hands were still too slippery to grip the wheel right even though the blood had started to dry. \n\nIt wasn't hers. The dead woman. It was her husbands. I managed to catch him off guard when he came to the basement that night. I had wriggled free of the ropes, and I got him in the shoulder with the shard from the broken mirror he had used on me. His keys were by the door. I heard him hang them there every time he came back.\n\nThat woman, she had gone outside to smoke in the woods where he couldn't see her. I guess that's where she had run out from as I escaped, but she was dead now. I hoped he was too.\n\n\n" ]	5
	[WP] Some people get to go to heaven when they die. If you're really good you get a +1 to take with you. Who you choose surprises everyone.	[ "The decision seemed a lot harder at first than it really was. At first, I thought it was a test. Pick one other person in all of history to take with me to heaven, no restrictions. The obvious answer was to take a kid starving in poverty, of course.\n\n\"It's not quite the same, if they're already dead, is it?\" I asked as I looked at the sign. \"I mean, they've gotten sorted through.\"\n\nThe sign, being a sign, did not respond.\n\n\"But it seems wrong to take someone that's still alive. They still have a full life to live.\"\n\nThough, I could take my wife. She would like that, not having to mourn much longer. Yet, at the same time, that would be selfish of me. She would surely get in anyway, she actually believed in this during life. I never did; I only got in by virtue of her making me get baptized anyway. \n\nI grabbed the sign. \n\n\"I'll take this. I don't really want anyone else knowing about the whole plus one deal.\"", "\"Are you serious?!? Logistically alone, what you're asking is a nightmare.\" \n\n\"well it's not like there's no precedent for him being up here, and everyone deserves another chance .\"\n\n\n\n\"This isn't going all in after playing just the tip with your high-school girlfriend, this is divine fucking intervention! We don''t just give this shit away you know.\"\n\n\n\"I'm sorry are you the one who just died saving a little kid from getting hit by a Mack truck? My earthly remains are basically a particularly chunky soup! \n\n\"you know normally that's not enough, normally you've got to save at least 3 plus kids, it's pure dumb luck you saved a future pope.\"\n\n\"Pope? Really? i wouldn't even have had to shove him if he hadn't been picking his nose quite so intently. Regardless, you told me i get a plus one and that's my pick\"\n\n\"what about your aunt nan? Shes not in here you know.\"\n\n\"and for good fucking reason! All the woman ever did was play the Clarinet badly and talk like she was in training for the racism Olympics.\"\n\n\"sigh fine but if this blows up you're the one who has to explain it to big beard\"\n\n\"fair enough\"\n\nPoof \n\n\"Good to see you again Peter\"\n\n\"You too Lou, your benefactor here read too much Twain and now it looks like you get another shot\"\n\n\"Goodie Goodie, i guess i have you to thank for this new...opportunity human\n\n\"Former human, now mostly paste. Big fan Mr. Morningstar, pleasure to meet you\"\n\n\"Before you two get all Gomorrah on one another we should probably go explain this to dad.\"\n\nLead the way pete, im quite looking forward to seeing ol' whiskers again\n \n ", "\"So I get to choose, like, whoever?\"\n\n\"That's right, son.\"\n\n\"Even Hitler?\"\n\n\"Well, not him obviously. He's already been plucked up here. Bloke who did it seemed to think it was the funniest thing this side of donut halos, bringing that old dolt with his ridiculous moustache.\"\n\n\"Tell me more about donut halos.\"\n\n\"It's simple, really. Nick a chap's halo, put a donut up in there and send him on his way. Laughs all around, good times had.\"\n\n\"Oh. I was wondering why your halo looked like a donut.\"\n\n\"Damn it, Sagan.\"\n\n\"Carl Sagan?\"\n\n\"Bloody practical joker, and a non-believer might I add. Dragged up from below too.\"\n\n\"Heaven sounds like a real riot, Pete. I'm starting to like it.\"\n\n\"That's Saint Pete, son.\"\n\n\"Sorry. Anyway. Is my dear mum up here?\"\n\n\"Nah, son. I'm sure she's nice and all, but she isn't here.\"\n\n\"Huh. Shocking. Who would've thought, sweet old mummy burning in Hell.\"\n\n\"You can take her, you know.\"\n\n\"Yeah I'll take her, Pete. Just surprised is all.\"\n\n\"That's Saint Pete, son. Enjoy your stay.\"", "Made me think of this:\n\n\"But who prays for Satan? Who in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most, our one fellow and brother who most needed a friend yet had not a single one, the one sinner among us all who had the highest and clearest right to every Christian's daily and nightly prayers, for the plain and unassailable reason that his was the first and greatest need, he being among sinners the supremest?\"\n\n-Mark Twain" ]	4
Bonus points for a sappy happy ending.	[WP] Tell the most cliched story possible in fifteen sentences or less.	[ "I never really had the chance to really know who she was before she left. In paper, she seemed to be everything I had ever hoped for, everything that I have ever dreamed about and more, but I will never truly know if she was the one. She left me here, I felt marooned on this paradise that we had built together, a captive of my own creation, this small isle of loneliness. I wanted to go someplace where nobody would find me and just scream, scream so loud as if the screaming would bring her back, but it wont, there's no point in it. I was so eager for all of it to begin that I had never even expected that it would end before it would have started. By the end of all of it, the girl of my dreams will remain the person who she was, the girl of my dreams. She was perfect, and so were the few memories I had of her, because both were untainted by the harshness of reality. I don't know if I will ever see her again, I don't know if I want to, because that perfect memory is the one unshattered glimmer of hope that remains in me." ]	1
	[WP] A king is losing his kingdom. Write about him trying to save it.	[ "This is the tale of King Edward CXXIV of the New Neopolitical united kingdom. It is the year 2998 and in the 24th century The former Neopolitical united kingdom invaded France followed by Germany. By the end of the year 2562 The former Neopolitical United kingdom had conquered most of Eurpe (Formally called Europe). Queen of the time Prime minister Danielle Young had huge plans that expanded beyond Eurpe month by month, the neopolitcal united kingdom had conquered at least 3 more countries. by the year 2565 the prime minister Danielle Young had changed every law in the houses of parliament, allowing her to rule as the supreme ruler of the neopolitical united kingdom until she died. Her global conquest continued for another twenty years. in the year 2585, a single lonesome country managed to survive the conquest of the neopolitcal united kingdom, it was no other than the United union of America and Russia, ", "I stood facing a magnificent mural of my ancestor’s impossible victory. The mural represented the foundation of our existence, for it was that day which granted us life and land upon which we now called home. It was a great victory, but it came at great cost. Upon my ancestor’s slaying of the then-king, a tribunal was held. The decision of the regional lords and clergymen to allow our existence in these lands had a single condition. Twenty percent of all wealth would go to the tribunal members. \n\n\n\nMy family has struggled for centuries to provide peace and security to our land while continuing to pay our eternal balance. Some say our peoples were punished just for being born. I say we were punished because we killed the king. Now, after generations have passed, I am the king. With the recent famine on the far end of my realm, it has been harder than ever to pay our debts. I have had to increase land taxes yet again and I know my people are struggling. It infuriates me that there is nothing I can do to prevent their suffering. \n\n\n\nNew paint covered the mural. Letters wrote out in scrawling big swirls that spelled out, “Robin says I ought not pay taxes”. My kingdom is crumbling around me because of the debts my people owe. If I had enough in the treasury for a war I would, but they have drained us dry over the centuries. This Robin of Loxley has caused me more pain than any other individual. I wish I had the tenacity of this man on my own side. Then, maybe, I might have a chance to keep this kingdom together. \n\n\n\nAlas, it is not to be. \n" ]	2
	[WP] You and humanity watched the world end. However, when you open your eyes again, the world continues, yet you are the only one who remembers it ended.	[ "Everything was burning. Somewhere off in the distance I could hear the cries of people dying, although I couldn't separate my own from theirs they too all eventually went quiet. I could feel the heat spreading over my skin as I became blind and deaf to the suffering of the world. I gulped desperately for air but choked on smoke as everything burned. Finally the pain stopped. I wasn't sure if I was dead or if i had just become numb to the pain. I was not sure how long I was like this but eventually I heard something. At first I wasn't sure what it was but I knew it wasn't screaming. It had a metallic, artificial quality about it. \nAs the sound continues to ring out I realize that I recognize that sound. Its the sound of the buzzer on my phone. By instinct I reach out to press the snooze button and only then realize that I can feel myself reaching. The unbearable pain is gone. Surprised at this I open my eyes, which also surprises me since I remember them being burned shut. I look around and realize that I'm in my apartment, and that its quite dark, the light coming in through my window is the orange of streetlights so it must still be nighttime. I look down at my phone. The brightness of the screen blinded me momentarily, but after a second I looked back and saw that the date was November 13th, 2020. According to my phone, the last week had just never happened and the world was still very much here. The fact that everything appeared normal out of the window corroborated this theory. \nMy head was spinning, I knew that what I had seen could not have been a dream, so how was I here, a week before the end of the world? ", "We only had ten days warning, a massive comet that had previously been undetectable would collide with the earth. The public wasn't told right away, not until the information was leaked just three days before the collision. We knew though, NASA was the first to know and mission control told us right away. I was the commander of the International Space Station at the time. Six days ago my two crewmates left to return to Earth and spend their last days with their families. I don't have a wife or children back home, so I chose to stay. Someone would have to be there to witness the apocalypse. Now that's what I'm doing, watching the world burn from orbit and sipping from bottle of vodka smuggled up here by some previous cosmonaut. The human race won't survive, I know that now. Even the deepest bunkers will have collapsed. Life will recover though, eventually. When the dust clears the lichens and bacteria and all kinds of microscopic things will already be evolving into the next rulers of the Earth. I wonder why I don't feel sad, maybe when something of this magnitude happens to a person, the brain just isn't equipped to handle it, and just shuts down. Or maybe it's just the alcohol. Time to get some sleep, I have to keep this station running as long as I can by myself. Try to make radio contact with any survivors. I float in my sleeping bag for a long time, just thinking before sleep finally finds me... \n\"Wake up, it is time for your shift, Houston needs to talk to you in ten minutes.\" \nA human? A man it sounds like. With a Russian accent... \nIt's Alex, but that's impossible, I know he's dead, everyone is. \n\"Are you hungover, you didn't find the vodka did you? No one knows where the hiding place is!\" \nNot knowing what else to say I merely mumble \"Ok, be ready in five.\" \nThis can't be happening, could the last ten days have been a dream? I get dressed in a haze before I report to the radio terminal. \n\"Houston what is today's date?\" Is the first thing out of my mouth. \n\"Uh, June 3 2017, you should know that ISS.\" is the response. I know that date, it's the day I learned about the comet. \n\"Uh, have any new near Earth object been reported today, Houston?\" I ask. \n\"No sir, no objects of any significance have been reported, ISS.\" \n\"Just curious, thanks, Houston\" I try to play off my odd question, but my mind is racing. How can I have imagined all of that, the ten days of hell, waiting for the end of the world, then the actual end. I know it was real. \nI carry out the usual procedures of reporting our situation to Houston automatically, without thinking. I never have been this distracted while on duty, but who can blame me. I check the panel where the bottle was hidden, it's there, still full, but there is no way I could have known where it is. Alex didn't tell me about it until right before he left. I return to the radio with tears starting to collect around my eye in zero G. My whole life I have been devoted to science, and now the whole world stopped making sense. How can I cry now but not when everyone was dying? That thought only makes me feel worse. \n\"Hey commander?\" I hear the voice over the radio, but it's not a voice I recognize. I can't tell if it's a man or a woman, but somehow it sounds... calming, like nothing I have ever heard before. \n\"Yes, Houston?\" I answer tentatively. \n\"It's going to be alright you know, there is no comet, the world isn't going to be destroyed anytime soon.\" \n\"How do you know about that, Houston?\" \n\"This isn't Houston. We are sorry for the confusion we put you through, no one was supposed to be alive when the Earth was restarted, but you chose to stay in space, why?\" \n\"Who is this? Did you destroy the Earth? How are you even talking to me?\" \n\"We put everything back exactly as it was, except for you, you we did not expect. Why did you stay?\" \n\"Who is this!\" I scream into the receiver. \n\"We only wanted to make observations, we meant no harm. Please answer me, why did you stay, even when you knew you could not survive?\" \n\"I don't know.\" I respond \"I guess I just wanted to know if anyone down there survived.\" \n\"Even if they had, and they could contact you, humanity was till doomed, you knew this, why then, did you stay?\" \n\"I'm like you I guess, I just wanted to observe, to see what would happen. Yes there were people on Earth I could have spent my last days with, but I just would have rather know as much as I can rather than die not knowing.\" \n\"Thank you commander.\", the voice said, and the line went to static.", "I wonder if everyone feels as I do, in these last moments.\n\nI wonder if everyone closes their eyes like I have, trying to accept the unacceptable. No one is getting away. No one is surviving.\n\nIt isn't an easy truth to grasp.\n\nHumans believe that they are immortal, that they are untouchable. Bad things never happen to you. And even they do, when you're in the midst of something terrible, it seems so unique, so special to your own circumstances that it feels like you're the only person in the world to ever suffer through this.\n\nAnd now... well, now none of us are special. Now all of us will die the same way, our charred bodies indistinguishable, unrecognizable, crushed and burned by millions of tiny space rocks that seem so far off yet are coming ever closer, closer, falling through the sky, all across the western hemisphere, leaving trails of fire in their wake.\n\nI closed my eyes so I wouldn't see, but their incandescent paths are burned into my retinas.\n\nI wonder if people around me are calm. I am standing in a crowd whose eyes are lifted to the burning skies, but I can't hear screams. It's not so surprising, screaming suddenly seems like a very pointless thing to do, but it's sad somehow, that no one is screaming. There is no one to warn. There is no one who will get away.\n\nBehind dark eyelids I let myself acknowledge that what bothers me most is my meaningless death. I don't want to die. But if I do, I want it to be special, to be significant. And now, well, I'm going to die just like everyone else here: with my eyes closed, thinking of pointless things because my brain can't deal with the inescapable fact that I am dead in 10... 9... 8...\n\n7... I open my eyes\n\n6... People are hugging. Crying.\n\n5... The sky is burning.\n\n4... I can barely see. There's too much light.\n\n3... The sky's only spots of darkness are the falling rocks, centred in balls of flame.\n\n2... The first rock hits the dark mass of the building just 500 yards away.\n\n1... There's a wave of light coming for me.\n\n0.\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n... I can't believe my last fucking thought was 0. God, how melodramatic do you have to be? I shake my head, clearing my thoughts of sleep's sticky cobwebs.\n\nI counted down the death of humanity. I still can't shake that. Hundreds of years later, it still haunts me that I was probably not the only one. Yet I'm still breathing, and we were all wrong. I crawl out of my sleeping pod, needing to piss.\n\nHere I am. Kept alive with cloned organs, for the Others to poke and prod at, last member of an extinguished race of parasites, a scientific experiment to be observed. It's what you do with an extinct species, I suppose.\n\nThe ones who plucked me from Earth's ruined surface are long since gone, but before they died they made sure I never would. \n\nAnd now I am the last one. The only one who remembers closed eyes, silent fear, the final countdown. The only one who remembers that the world ended.\n\nI slam my hand against the motion detector, and water pours from the ceiling onto my ragged body.\n\nToday's gonna be a long day. I can already tell." ]	3
Pi to 100 places 3. 14159265358979323846264338327950288419716939937510 58209749445923078164062862089986280348253421170679 The first word has to have three letters, the second word one letter and so on	[WP] write a short story in which the length of the word is determined by the value of Pi	[ "Can I find a troll? 'Geography in Action' spent ten grand (probably hopefully, legally dubiously) all in all. Director Colm wanted my skills.\n\n\"This was dug recently, out of ancient sediments.\"\n\nThere, in muddened aluminum, from a thousand fathoms, a...figure. Carefully and amazingly portrayed. Cut? Painted maybe? A giant creature, an amorphous centaur. With lettering, 'Come Soon These Disasters'.", "\"Eat a dick\", I said glaringly. He looked like he'd taken sixty-one dumbbells crammed callously way up his butthole. \"Ouch.\" Really, he could'a been the one. Mournful sigh. Anyway, he turned into the one dickhead who is perfect nightmare stuff. He embodied everyone that I bitterly despise. I should euthanize him." ]	2
I'll write something for this soon!	[WP] Everything you say and write is hilarious; no matter what you say, people laugh.	[ "\"Hello.\"\n\nThe deafening roar of close to 300,000 people. A gentle ringing resonates through my ears. The thunder of laughter pierces my soul.\n\n It lost meaning long ago, laughter. Now should a smile creep across my face I would whip it back. Any precious moments alone are spent in utter silence. Why do I go on?\nThe sound of your child laughing brings upon a merciless pain, both of physical and yearning... For it to mean anything again.\n\nI raised it to my temple.\n\n\n\"Goodbye...\"\n\n\nNot even the front row head the gunshot.", "Ok, I got something good for this----\n\nShe's beautiful, she's perfect, she's sitting across the table from me but she's way out of my league. But wait! She's looking over at me?!!?!? She's smiling at me? I look behind to see if maybe it's her friend, or someone else she's looking at but no one is there. She actually smiling at me! No, she's laughing! I pat my head. Do I have something stuck to me? A tissue paper in my shoe that she's laughing? She's hysterical now! I must be doing something really dumb or really brilliant to make her laugh like this. Should I go over to her now? How long have I been thinking like this? \nSuddenly I noticed that she hasn't stopped laughing at all, in fact she's falling to the ground, clutching her sides. I rush over to her to see if she is alright after the fall. ''Are you ok?'' I ask her but this makes her laugh even more. Blood starts squirting from her eye lids she can't stop laughing so hard and she throws up her intestines all over me.'' HOLY FUCK!'' I screaming but she's still laughing , despite the clear pain. ''IS ANYONE A DOCTOR HERE?'' I scream out but the one person who says he is starts laughing himself and dies shortly after.\n-----\n9 months later\nI sit in a cave- alone. in the space of 9 months I have managed to kill just over 7 billion people- the cause of death- laughter. \nI'm sure you're wondering why I didn't just stop killing them, why I didn't just hide myself away before I killed the whole human race, but as I'm sure everyone knows, when people are laughing at you right in your face, its hard not to want to kill them.\nThere was however a little boy who was immune to me, my only friend- I'm so alone now. But he died too. ''Why does everyone laugh themseleves to death around you?'' he asked not unkindly.\n''I don't know jimmy, I tried asking this girl out-''\nJimmy laughed himself to death soon after.\n" ]	2
	[WP] Space wasn't the final frontier...	[ " Space wasn't the final frontier. It's a shame it took so long to realize what man's truly last frontier was. It was never that quasar 100 million light years away or that potentially habitual planet in some far away galaxy. It was himself. Man had always wondered about himself, it would always be eating away at him no matter what else unbelievably big he was thinking about. He always thought that he could understand himself and explain everything he did. For awhile, he had come to accept it. Everything he needed to know about himself was known, when in fact that was not the truth. As man looked through its aluminum eyeball into the dark emptiness above, he began to think. \n\n \n What he thought about was wether the planet they may or may not find would let people get sick. If man would change there, a fresh start from all of the tainted past of millennia before. As he looked through his aluminum eyeball, why not make it perfect here and maybe we could be happy he thought. Why do we always have to be looking into the future? why do we require change? Why can't we do our best for each other? Why do we not care? It was at that moment man had turned that aluminum eyeball onto himself. ", "Captain's log: Earth date: August 25, 2037\n\n\nIt has been 25 years to the day since the incident. A year of prep work and over 2 decades of sleep but we've finally arrived. To me, it seems like it just happened. Voyager 1 was suppose to leave our solar system on August 25, 2012. It was a huge milestone for mankind. Our first venture into interstellar space. I'll never forget the confused silence in NASA after it happened. We watched the feed from Voyager 1 on the monitors. The countdown to history. Then it suddenly stopped. It just stopped. Several camera's were destroyed in the impact. It seemed like it hit a brick wall, but there was nothing there. We watched from every possible angle, trying to identify what had collided with the probe. But there was nothing, just infinite space in every direction. That might have been the end of it, just chalk it up to some space anomaly, if it happened been for the crack. Right after the collision, the probe spun slightly, no longer moving. For a split second, one camera caught what looked like a crack in a glass window, but it seemed suspended in space. This sparked a lot of controversy at NASA, and ultimately it was decided that we needed to know for sure.\n\n\nSo here we are, Lt. Billadeau, FO Johnston, and me. We woke several Earth hours ago. Confused, disoriented. But that is to be expected. All transmission's from Earth suggest they are just has confused as they were when we left all those years ago. We found Voyager 1. Closer analysis pretty much only confirmed what we already knew on Earth. It hit something. Hard. The front looked like the cars in those crash test dummy commercials. It was then, while adjusting the ship to get a better look at the probe, that we bump something. All readings showed nothing. Visual confirmation as well. There was nothing. But sure as shit, when we exited the ship to check it out, we were stopped in our tracks. There is some type of wall surrounding our solar system. The wall seems to be a huge screen projecting the universe to us. Everything we've ever seen from outside our system, every picture taken by Hubble, has simply been an image on this screen. The most unsettling thing is that we can find no trace of the crack that Voyager made. We've run scans and probes in every direction. Nothing. It's like it's been repaired.\n\n \nAs I lie here in my bunk, preparing to rest for tomorrow's expedition, I can't help but think about the type of will it takes to accomplish something like this. Someone, or something, went to great lengths to construct this sphere and make sure that humans think we are just a tiny speck in an otherwise infinite universe. I can't help but wonder why. And the more I think about it, the more this wall reminds me of something...a prison.\n\n \nTomorrow we drill through.\n", "Frank looked up at his display screen...it couldn't be! There was the Milky Way again but according to his navigational charts, he absolutely had been traveling AWAY from the Milky Way. It was as if space had looped.\n\nHe was tempted to return to Earth, but instead decided to checkout a random solar system near the center of this \"Milky Way\" galaxy. He locked onto the gravitational constant of its star, shifted the frequency of his ship upward and instantly hurtled forward at incredible speeds.\n\nThe blinding light from the warp drive dimmed and the ship automatically slowed down once it entered the solar system. The computer made a quick survey of the system and Frank choose a random planet to survey for his mission. But something was odd about this planet...it looked suspiciously like Saturn back at home. His computer confirmed that it for all practical purposes WAS Saturn. Intrigued Frank decided to checkout the rest of the planets.\n\nSure enough...closer to the center of the system was an \"Earth\", but this was different. Whereas his Earth was populated by billions of technologically advanced habitats, there was no sign of intelligent life on this Earth. A throbbing white light shot up from the planet and Frank felt his ship being automatically being pulled to the surface.\n\nThe ship landed softly and Frank got out and was blinded by the strongest light source he had ever seen. As his eyes adjusted he made out entities floating around him looking at him with curiosity. One of the taller entities stepped forward:\n\n\"Sorry we had to do this to you, but it was becoming too much of a strain to keep this up\"!\n\nFrank blinked confusingly.\n\n\"You see all your glorious space adventures were projections of ours. You were never really traveling that fast through space (an absurd violation of the laws of physics!). Every-time you would enter a new solar system, we would have to make planets and animals and stars. It was all very stressful really. We cheated a bit and re-used what we could. Had you been a bit more observant you would have spotted our re-used planets and stars years ago. Then recently came the point where we just couldn't keep up and re-used an entire galaxy! We thought we could get away with it given what you had fallen for before...but this time our luck ran out.\"\n\n\"So now what\" asked Frank?\n\n\"It's time for you to explore the real final frontier\", proclaimed a smaller entity and pointed to its transparent head. \"You spent all this time looking far and wide for reality when it was inside of you all along.\"\n\n\"But YOU have been controlling what I've been seeing\", protested Frank.\n\n\"Not quite... We could not pull this off had we been fighting your will.\"\n\n\"Let's go back in time to explain... You were once a happy entity in another dimension when you decided to explore what you deemed as the space/time dimension. But the only way to do this was to fracture yourself into artificial pieces. Some pieces would provide the contrast you needed, whereas some pieces (like us) were needed to stay apart to generate the illusions you desired.\"\n\n\"You can not explore other dimensions until you escape this one...but you have not been doing a very good job at escaping.\"\n\nFrank blinked in confusion...\n\n\"You see, you have been exploring time/space when you should have been exploring why it even is. You need to be exploring up here (pointing at Franks head) and wondering why you think the thoughts you think instead of why your planet of the month came to be.\"\n\nWith that, everything faded into a blinding light and then recessed as Frank found himself back on his ship staring at Earth...but this time the real Earth. Or was it? Boy after all those trillions of light years he had traveled, he was confused as ever. He did not look forward to submitting his report to his boss at stellar cartography headquarters...", "The project had began long ago. Hundreds of years ago actually. It was called \"Omega Navigator\" and it was finally coming to completion. That's all thanks to the discovery of faster then light travel through the manipulation of space. In the first 500 years or so, humanity made terribly slow progress, only 1.731%(ish) completed. Now, only a couple decades later, they are at 99.999996% completion. It's been remarkable to say the least. The Omega Navigator would turn out to be the largest and most comprehensive database of information to ever exist. It would be a complete map of the entire universe. This is no easy task either, as the universe is not a stagnant terrain. This map would have all information on all large bodies of matter. It would be a three-dimensional map, which would follow the patterns of the universe exactly, and account for all sorts of factors like gravity and collisions. \n\nRenold Mortimer was a the captain of an observer-craft. He was tasked for recording information on areas at the outer edge of space. He was tasked with a small ship, in fact, he was the only member of his craft. They often did that with far-reach observer ships. Nobody likes to be home for long. Mortimer had been working into his 16th year as an observer. Mortimer didn't mind, however. He wasn't very fond of earth, and its rather unruly inhabitants. He had wanted to be an observer all his life. Mortimer much preferred the company of stars. He did occasionally talk to other edge observers as well. They were a reserved folk, but they all had one thing in common, they loved stars. \n\nMortimer was flying at near lightspeed again watching the passing by of stars, and gazing at his monitered, as it measured and recorded gigabytes of data in seconds. Then, Mortimer turned the cockpit around, and stared at the edge of space. The contrast was incredible. On one side of his craft, a vast universe speckled with the explosions of a trillion stars. On the other side, utter nothingness, literally pitch black. Mortimer called Teresa, another edge observer in his proximity.\n\n\"Hey Teresa, have I woken you?\"\n\n\"No worries Morty, I've been up for some 18 hrs now.\"\n\n\"Maybe you should get some rest then, and be ready for tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Are you insane? And miss the completion? Centuries of work have gone into this project, and I'm going to be awake when it finishes!\"\n\n\"Ya that's true...\"\n\n\"Any particular reason you called?\"\n\n\"Well, ya... I was just thinking about the edg-\"\n\n\"Please don't tell me you're on to this again. We've been over this before.\"\n\n\"I know, I know-\" \n\n\"You don't know what's behind there. We know everything there is to know about everything there is before the edge, so why bother going past it?\"\n\n\"Look I'm not saying I just want to fly right into it.\" \n\n\"Good, headquarters says you won't make it back if you go through. There's nothing to observe, therefore, nothings there.\" \n\n\"But can I even 'go through?' Is it empty space, or a wall or sorts?\"\n\n\"I don't know Morty it's absolute black, indiscernible. All I know is that the definitely universe exists up until that edge, but beyond it, there's no telling.\"\n\n\"Oh look, we've gone up to 99.99998% completion.\"\n\n\"I can't believe this is actually about to happen. In our lifetimes!\"\n\n\"You know, we lose our jobs after this.\"\n\n\"Yes we all know that, we never did this for the job, we did it for the exploration.\"\n\n\"EXACTLY! That's the reason. This universe can't be the last thing to explore. There HAS to be more.\"\n\n\"Morty, stop talking like this. You can't jump the edge! Headquarters can hear us you know!\"\n\n\"I will take them a couple months to get out to where we are. Omega Navigator will be completed in a matter of minutes.\"\n\n\"What are you saying... Mortimer...\"\n\n\"Once we hit 100%, I'm finally breaking the edge. I've been staring at it for nearly 17 years, and when I first saw it I knew this day would come.\"\n\n\"Listen to yourself you sound like a damn insect drawn to a flame.\"\n\n\"99.9999% completed.\"\n\n\"Mortimer\"\n\n\"Teresa, if they ask about me, tell them I said this. There are those who are smarter then me. There are those who are more knowledgeable then me. However, it doesn't matter how many IQ points you are gifted with, or many books you read, there is one thing you will never know, that I will have learned. The question you will never be able to answer for yourself, lest you take the same step as me, is: What lies behind the edge? Farewell Teresa, I hope to see you again shortly.\"\n\nMortimer hung, pleased with his parting words. Now he stared hungrily at the nothingness. He stared at his monitor. \n\n99.9999\n\n.....\n\n99.9999\n\n.....\n\n99.9999\n\n..... click\n\n100.0000\n\n\"Headquarters? Yes this is Teresa Granger of Edge-Observer 034201d. I'd like to report suspicious behavior of Renold Mortimer, 034201c. What? How did you know he was planning on flying into the edge?! There are?! How many other reports are there??! Oh God... Wait, but what do I-\"\n\nTeresa looked down at her monitor as it clicked 100%. Back home, the world was celebrating. But she was solemn, as she reconciled the fact that thousands, maybe millions of her co-workers through themselves into the unknown. That wasn't discovery, she said. That was suicide.\n\nThe humans purged through the barrier between their own bubble of space-time, and the unobserved. Mortimer, sweat dripping down his face, finally opened his eyes, he was terrified. He experienced a blinding unlike anything before. You could not grasp what he was beholding. His eyes did not feel pain or comfort, but his mind was bombarded, the picture he beheld he did not comprehend. Stared at the swirling mass of information in front of him, and fell over, accidentally dimming the screen of his cockpit. He caught ahold of himself, and looked at the monitor. It was attempting to observe the terrain around it, and it suddenly froze. Mortimer undimmed the screen, and again was almost intoxicated by what he saw. His brain became weary fast, and he began to enter a deep slumber.\n\nMortimer, along with many other edge-observers, burst out of their bubble. They exited their own universe, entered a realm of other universes. Mortimer was confronted with a 5th dimension universe in his immediate view, and simply could not comprehend the shifting and reality breaking whirl of matter. The poor observers who glanced at an 11th dimension universe almost immediately fainted, their brain attempting to make sense of the information it received. They might awake some day, having forgotten the instance, only the see the same universe again, and faint in cycle. \n\nMortimer and his other observers had found the answer to the question of what lies beyond the edge: the multiverse. But not even they could answer the question of what to do with it. ", "Space wasn't the final frontier. Death was. Mankind had always told stories of the afterlife. The stories and ideas being as varied and unique as the people who told them. And in the year of our lord 200,456 AD man took the step from the world of the living to the world of the dead. \n\nThey were called necronaughts. Three men and one woman who would step through the ether and into a world that shouldn't exist. Almost two hundred thousand years of science, rational thought and atheism undone in the time it took to walk forward a meter.\n\nWe'll never know exactly what was seen by the those brave souls. Only that they were gone for one hour and came back changed. They returned. They told us God was disappointed and then refused to ever speak again.\n\nAnd now we move forward with a new purpose in life. \n\n- The National Necronaught Memorial Wall" ]	5
	[WP] "All men want to watch the world burn, but no one wants to light the match."	[ "\"Smoke?\" said the man in red, holding out a cigarette.\n\n\"...No thanks,\" said the woman in blue.\n\n\"Suit yourself,\" he replied, taking back his offering and tucking the pack it came from into his coat pocket.\n\nThey stood across from each other atop the roof of a skyscraper, lit by the milky glow of the stars above and the red flush of a bustling city beneath.\n\nThe woman wore a navy-colored suit, with seams as precise and neat as the line of her cheekbones. A small teardrop brooch adorned her shirt pocket, the sapphire glinting in the starlight. Her hair was drawn up in a tight bun, tied up with a short ribbon of blue, the same deep blue color of her eyes.\n\nThe man wore an unbuttoned knee-length coat the color of old blood, draped over a bare body of scars, muscles, and sinew. A tattooed serpent wound its way up his abdomen, past his chest, and ended at his shoulder, the red tinge of a burn scar taking the place of fire for the dragon's breath. His hair was the color of ash, but his eyes were a dark red, and glowed in the night air.\n\nHe cupped his hands to his mouth, and before long, a flickering glow came from within them as well. He took a long pull, and then exhaled, the smoke fading as it was carried away in the breeze.\n\n\"Long time no see, old friend,\" said the man in red.\n\n\"Old friend indeed,\" she replied. \"Where have you been?\"\n\n\"Out and about.\"\n\n\"That doesn't answer my question.\"\n\n\"Well, tell me, where have YOU been?\"\n\n\"Right here, like before.\"\n\n\"I can see that. You've made a name for yourself lately, and quite a few of them; 'The Peace-Bringer,' was it? Or maybe it was \"Life-Giver,\" or 'The woman who made the world stop'- there's so many of them now. I hear they're nominating you for sainthood-\"\n\n\"I see you're still the snake-charmer you used to be,\" she said, allowing herself the smallest of smiles.\n\n\"I charm more than snakes, dear-\"\n\n\"But still less than most.\"\n\nIt was his turn to grin this time.\n\n\"That's not entirely true, though, is it?\" he said. \"You've been to China, Germany, and more, rebuilding the world from the ashes of the past few wars. Wars that you ended. Ended, not by force, but with an outstretched hand.\"\n\nA shadow of a grin passed over her face. \"Thank you for the flattery, but you still have yet to say what YOU have been up to all these years. Knowing you, you probably started a few of those wars yourself.\"\n\nHe grinned again. \"I wouldn't be surprised if I did.\"\n\nHe took another pull of his cigarette, savoring its taste before releasing the smoke into the air.\n\n\"...Say, can you keep a secret?\" he said, after a pause.\n\n\"Depends on the secret. I do have a responsibility to the people of this world, you know.\"\n\n\"It'll be the kind you can keep.\"\n\n“Fire away then. I'll take your word for it.\"\n\nAnother grin.\n\n\"Bear with me, now,\" he said, tossing his cigarette over the edge. A trail of smoke and dimming embers followed it as it tumbled and twirled on its way to the ground.\n\nHe closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The dragon tattoo on his body seemed to swell as well, as if it were breathing with him too.\n\nHis eyes flew open.\n\nThe tattoo glowed red, and a blazing ring of fire burst into life around him, its flames rising high into the air.\n\nHe let the fire die down until it was only a ring of embers around his feet. The smile was back on his face.\n\n\"What do you think?\"\n\n\"...That was... unexpected.\"\n\n\"Unexpected, indeed,\" he said, chuckling.\n\n\"...How did you do it? Was it an illusion, or pyrotechnics, or-\"\n\n\"No, no, nothing like that. Remember those comic books and young adult fantasy novels?\"\n\n\"So you're saying you have superpowers? Or some kind of magic?\"\n\n\"More or less, only this has a valid mechanism behind it.\"\n\n\"...Care to share?\" She asked, a bit more than curiosity coloring her voice.\n\n\"...You want to try it for yourself, don't you-?\"\n\n\"No, I am only interested in the science behind it-\"\n\n\"Oh just admit it, your eyes were the size of dinner plates earlier. A life-and-blood superhero, right in front of your eyes, like all those comics we used to read as kids-\"\n\n\"Alright, alright, I admit it,\" she said, laughing. \"Yes, I want to be a superhero too.\"\n\nHer posture was more relaxed now, and was no longer as sharp and neat as before. A few strands of hair had come loose, and were hanging lazily and wisp-like over her eyes. She stood to the side, one hand on her hip.\n\n\"Thank you, may I add, for revealing your secret identity to me, mister human torch,\" she said, brushing the hair away from her eyes.\n\n\"Anytime, madam,\" he replied, bowing with a flourish. \"So you were asking how I became said human torch?\"\n\n\"Oh - yes, that'd be nice to know.\" A smile, though small, now shone clear on her face. His smile mirrored hers, the red of his eyes flickering like embers.\n\n\"I can't tell you everything - not yet, but I'll tell you what I can. Sorry for having to make you wait.\"\n\n\"No need to apologize, all in good time.\"\n\n\"Thank you for understanding. That said, remember old man Kane?\"\n\n\"The cranky old neighbor of ours? Yeah, I remember him.\" Her smile broadened at the memory. \"What about it?\"\n\n\"I remember talking to him as a kid after watching the Dark Knight with him, during that - unsuccessful - attempt to get him into movies. And I remember him saying how the butler was wrong when he was talking about the Joker, about how he just wanted to watch the world burn. He used to say, 'All men want to watch the world burn; it's just no one's man enough to light the match.' \"\n\n\"...How morbid.\"\n\n\"Well, that's old man Kane for you,\" he said, chuckling.\n\n\"Thing is, right or wrong, it's rare to find that man, or woman, who, in a metaphorical sense, would be willing and able to light that match, for good or for evil. You need someone with an unbending will, someone who has the willpower to see anything through, regardless of the pain and hardship thrown their way.\n\nYou need someone with drive, and vision. You need someone with passion.\n\nSomeone like you.\n\nAnd you need that quality, that state of mind, to harness this power, else it consumes you. You need that drive. That passion. That single-minded purpose, raison-d'etre, reason for living.\"\n\nThey were face-to-face now, inches away from each other. Red eyes stared into blue,\nand blue into red.\n\nFor what seemed like an age, not a word was spoken.\n\nThe man broke the silence first.\n\n\"...Can I ask you a favor?\"\n\n\"...Of course.\"\n\n\"...Will you be my match?\"\n\nAnd with that, he lifted her off her feet and swung her out over the edge of the roof in a one fluid motion, sending her flying into the open air with nothing but a thousand feet of wind and dust between her and the pavement below. By the time she began to scream, she was too far below to be heard.\n\nThe man in red stood over the edge, watching her as she fell to her death.\nThe smile never left his face.", "The striking of flint on steel sends small sparks flying before a flame bursts through the dark, illuminating everything around it in a yellow glow. As I exhale the warm breath entwined with the cold air sends a small patch of fog drifting through the dingy train car. The small flame flickers with the bumps in the track, sipping on its slowly depleting supply of life. “All men want to watch the world burn, son,” my father’s words drift in my memory, “but no one wants to light the match.” It seems that humans are destined for destruction. We build monuments that reach towards the heavens we so desperately seek just so we can watch them fall, like our dreams. Since the beginning, we have built grand empires that stretched with each decade just to watch them crumble from within. All grand things will eventually fall, and we wish for that tipping point with baited breath.\n\nThe people are writhing in fury. For the past years we have struggled to regain from a fall the size of which has not been seen in decades. While we are assured that the country is growing, we don’t feel it. Working hours on end with little pay while the difference between those at the top and the bottom expands far past reasonable. Entitlement and greed has its tendrils deep in the roots of our oh-so-humble politicians, and the iron fist of businesses grows stronger and larger with each passing day making it more difficult for the common person to scavenge up mere scraps to eat. This “empire” is set up for a glorious blaze that will light the century.\n\nFirst you start with the fuel: mistrust in the government, the loss of agency of the citizens, and the fundamental breakdown of the system of election. Then comes the kindling: the rejection of laws for net neutrality, the federal ban of gay marriage and marijuana, and the “not guilty” ruling from the tragedy when a child lost his life. Lastly comes the tinder, the most important piece to creating a proper fire: the discovery of corruption and the corporate coalition, which created the mobs and caused many cities to be put under martial law. Yet with all that has happened, they sit there and point fingers, content to blame others while sitting content on their false thrones.\n\nNow is the time to strike the match. We will start the blaze and from the ashes this country will arise anew, a phoenix reborn. I flip the lighter closed and look around at my companions in the dark. We are ready. The train screeches as it arrives at its destination. Now is the time, I load the clip and lock the bolt. The door flies open and the sun bathes us light, blinding for a second. Now is the time. The beginning of the Second American Revolution. " ]	2
	[WP] Due to a recent freak accident, you discover you have the ability to hear the thoughts of others, but only those of people who are thinking terrible things about you.	[ "It happened a few time ago. I was walking around my house at night, looking for a glass of water when a fell of the ladder. I was only three steps, but I fell of on the ground and hurt my head. I got up, said some bad words and went back to kitchen, take my glass of water. On the other day, I woke up with a bit of a headache but it passed after a few minutes. \n\nWhen I was walking to work I started hearing something unpleasant. \n“Look at this guy. Argh! How much ugliness can exist in just one person?”\nI’ve never heard this voice before, I didn’t recognize it, so I looked around and saw a group of people starring at me and laughing. I found this weird because they were very distant. “How can I be able to hear them?”, I thought. Anyway, I ignored this and continued in my way. \n\nAt lunch time, I sat down to eat with some friends. Again, I heard voices in my head, but this time, it was then. I could hear them, but I couldn't see their lips moving. “Maybe I’m schizophrenic”, I thought. But all these speculations were gone on the moment that we started talking. I could hear their responses to my questions and commentaries, but, usually, they were different from what I heard from their mouths, not my head. That’s when I finally started to realize what was happening. I could hear other people thoughts!!! But, for some reason, not all of them, just the ones that said bad things about me. Later, I also discovered that I could hear not just people next to me, but EVERYONE in ANYWHERE at ANYTIME who thought bad things about me.\n\nIn the beginning, I thought that it would stop, eventually, but it didn’t. Sometimes I even wake up with these thoughts echoing in my mind. It was really hard to see much of my world view been erased and replaced with a disgusting and depressing feeling about everybody. I thought in killing myself, multiple times. I thought in move to some house in the hills, with nobody around, just me and some pets. (I still need companion, don’t I?)\n\nI was already making the arrangements to move when I started thinking that I was already accustomed to living like that and maybe it was not so bad after all. I already knew that the world is full of hypocritical, egocentric and prejudiced people, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise to literally hear that more clearly. I was thinking that, maybe, just maybe, I could use that to my advantage, maybe I could use that to surround myself with people that actually like me. Well, that didn’t last too long. I rapidly lost my faith again, that’s when I gave up of trying to do something with it and resigned myself to live like that. Well, four years later, here I am. Hope you have enjoyed my story, I’ll know if you lie… \n\n\nIf I wrote something wrong, or was a little bit confused, I'm sorry, I'm not a native english speaker.", "All the anger, all the spite all the sadness, it surges in a wave of bile that almost overtakes me. The emotion from the people around me is palpable, and I'm drowning in it. The coffin is cheap, mostly plywood, but it doesn't matter, the kid isn't in there. The boy's body...it hadn't even been completely recovered. Every time I close my eyes, the last moments of the accident play across my eyelids; my hands grasping the wheel in a white knuckled grip, shock holding me frozen in it's numbing claws, and a single crimson drop rolling serenely down the cracked windshield. Three weeks to the day since the accident, and the poor mother finally held the funeral. All the child's family was there, staring knives into my back, but their black thoughts cut much deeper, slicing into my soul. I can hear them, ever since the accident. But i've never heard a single good thought from anyone, just hatred, pain, or silence. I could cut them out if I wanted to, but I know I deserve this. Besides, the loudest voice, the one that wants me dead more than anything, is the only one I really can't shut out. It's my own.", "'Jesus, what an asshole. Stay in your lane!'\n\n'Ugh, he is late again. What a lazy piece of shit'\n\n'Didn't I send David that e-mail last week? How the hell has he not responded yet? Fuck idiot.'\n\n'Ew - that old dude is chewing with his mouth open. That, like, grossed me out so much, I cant even!'\n\n'Hahahaha. This guy walks so weird.'\n\n'I can't believe I kissed David at the Christmas party. What was I thinking? I mean it was a few years ago, and I guess I can chalk it up to being young and dumb. BUT, he isnt even cute!'\n\n'What's that guys name again? Ah, who the fuck cares'\n\n'Oh look, he is packing up. Late AND skipping out early. Typical LAZY David.'\n\n\"Hi Hun\"\n\n\"Hi David, how was your day?\" Smiles.\n\nnothing\n\n\"Great babe. When was the last time I told you I loved you?\"\n\n\"Haha it must have been a good one. Love you too\".", "You finally realize that it's all really just a self-fulfilling prophecy and you're going nuts. The more you think you hear people think terrible things about you, the less you care about putting on that good image you've been putting on. The voices continue telling you you've failed, that you're not good enough, that you're crazy. And you fight them. Wasting all this energy trying to fight against the voices inside your head. No longer are you acting to counter their insults, but it's gotten to the point that you're trapped inside your head, arguing them in typical debate style. Until, slowly, you've changed so much that the voices in your head correspond to the real voices of people around you. In an attempt to fight the fake insults inside your head, you have led your life in a way to make them real. And now you are the terrible thoughts you mistakenly attributed to real people.", "Oh god, there she is again.\nJust keep walking.\nWhy does she always come here?\nDon't even look at them.\nThere's that creepy lady again. Too bad Brian isn't here to see, he'd find this hilarious.\nKids are such assholes.\nWhy does she just stare into space like that? I wonder if she's on drugs...\nNo you moron, I can-\nThere was only a small jerk in my stride before I shook myself off, and continued walking towards the counter. For months it had been like this. Ever since a driver had run a red light and thrown my body across the intersection like a rag doll. Apparently, I sustained massive brain trauma when my head cracked against the pavement. Yet when I awoke in my hospital bed, everything was able to function normally. The doctors were baffled. They said I was lucky to be alive. I have to disagree. \"Function normally\", was it? I wouldn't call this normal. The man behind the deli counter watched me approach with a plastic smile. Well, at least he wasn't thinking anything I could hear. I was asking for a quarter pound of turkey, thinly sliced, when another sentence invaded my mind. Unlike the other thoughts, this one had a sort of...fuzzy sound to it. Like it was coming from an old radio.\nI'm going to kill her tonight.\nEverything around me froze. Now, I could usually tell where the thoughts were coming from. This time, it was uncertain. It wasn't the deli worker, that much I knew. Nor was it from any of the customers within my field of vision. It almost felt...far. Maybe someone outside this store. Not only the words were unsettling. The tone was level, as if they were simply commenting on the weather instead of planning murder.\n\"Miss...?\" I was brought back to earth by a bag of lunchmeat dangling before me. Putting on the stony mask that had become my face, I quickly paid and left. Grocery shopping could wait. It occurred to me on the way home that this may not be as serious as it seemed. People use the phrase, \"I'm going to kill you,\" all the time. You don't actually intend to kill them, you're just angry. But who could it be? Contacts and friends were lost long ago, before the accident. I was never exactly social. My family was a whole three states away, and I never heard a thought from that far. And as far as I knew, I hadn't pissed off any of my neighbors recently. Whoever it was, it wasn't important. I was assured, and pushed the matter firmly from my mind. As you can imagine, I've become rather adept at ignoring intrusive thoughts. The rest of my day was uneventful. In my apartment, I could only hear the thoughts of my close neighbors. They only complained about me once, when one said I closed my door too loudly. That was probably Mrs. Palmer. Hard of hearing and she still griped about loud noises. Since I didn't buy groceries, the only thing I had for dinner was the turkey. That was supposed to be for lunch this week but...oh well. I threw together a sandwich and sank into the sofa. There was nothing on TV but old sitcom reruns. I think I dozed off on the fourth episode of Friends. Around 3 a.m., I awoke to static. The click of the TV as it powered down was followed by another faint noise. I recognized it as the sound of my locked and bolted door sliding open.\n\nNote: Wasn't sure if this should be the ending or not. I don't write often, so if you have any suggestions please let me know. Also, this was typed on my phone, so I may have missed some typos.", "We sat in silence, her head on my chest. That's what I loved about her. She was the one person I could be around and share absolute silence with. \n\nEven in the happiest moments with the best of friends I could hear their malicious thoughts. \"I don't even know why Michael was invited\", \"God he laughs so loud\", \"I hate this story, he tells it all the time\". \n\nIt was worse with family. At Thanksgiving my mother said \"and I'm so thankful for my wonderful son\". That is not what was thought. \n\nOf course I could never tell anyone about it. Who would spend time with a mind reader? I would be an outcast. Then again, I had pushed everyone away myself. Everybody except for her. The only words I heard from her came from her own breath. \n\nShe whispered something to me. \"What was that? I didn't hear you\". \n\n\"I didn't say anything\"", "I woke up a month after the accident.\n\nI was the only one that survived.\n\nThe doctors said i barely made it, I went though about 6 hours of surgery due to the massive head trama I received. I didn't feel much pain probably due to all the drugs I was hyped up on, I mostly just felt tired and dehydrated all day.\n\nI first noticed it when my aunt came to visit me, I remember it as clear as day.\n\nWhy couldn't you have just died as well, the insurance would have gone to me....\n\nI was shocked, I thought she had said it herself. But she still had that smile on her face, the same smile I went to every weekend when I was a kid, to a batch of fresh cookies every time.\n\nI thought I just misheard it, but it got worse.\n\nAs more and more people came to visit, the more I heard. And it wasn't people whom I've just met, it was all from the people that were closest to me.\n\nHow could you have let that happen...\n\nMy Colleague.\n\nWhy did you get to survive...\n\nMy Cousin.\n\nI wished it wasn't you...\n\nMy Best Friend.\n\nThe noises got louder and louder, it hurt more then my injuries. But every sound I heard came from smiling faces, from a warm hand, and overshadowed words of encouragement.\n\nI requested more and more doses of drugs, it helps to clear my head from them.\n\nSoon I was released, and was able to walk out the front door on crutches.\n\nMy girlfriend for 5 years stood there, held out a hand, and smiled at me.\n\nUrg, if only he had died, then I wouldn't have to tell him about derak...\n\nIt wasn't the words, It was the smile that hid them..." ]	7
	[WP] Due to over population humans are being stored voluntarily under ground, in a virtual reality of their design. It's time for the yearly internal checkup.	[ "Chapter 1: A Day in the Life of AI\n\n(screen omitted)\n\nmain.ai = system normal\n\nupdating envi.ai 89% complete\n\nscanning hosts.core.ai\n\nscanning milestones.ai\n\nupdating envi.ai 99% complete\n\nscanning core.ai\n\nupdate envi.ai 100% complete\n\nrunning envi.ai\n\ndeleting cellar.rooms.ai\n\ndeleting den.rooms.ai \n\ndeleting icebox.rooms.ai\n\ninstalling basement95558.rooms.ai\n\ninstalling living_room45676.rooms.ai\n\ninstalling fridge36778.objects.ai\n\n(screen omitted)\n\n\n\n\nChapter 2: A Brand New Day \n\n\n(screen omitted)\n\nscanning multimedia.ai\n\nscanning core.ai\n\nscanning envi.ai\n\ninterrupt: clock.daemon.ai\n\nclock.ai = 00:00:00\n\nnew_day = True\n\nscanning birthday.hosts.ai\n\nmessage birthday.txt \n\nscanning obits.hosts.ai\n\nmessage obits.txt\n\nbackup obits.hosts.ai \n\nupdate hosts.ai\n\n----------!\n\nupdate host.ai successful\n\nnew_month = True\n\nrun moon.new.envi.ai\n\nnew_year = True\n\nhibernate active.hosts.ai\n\nrun diagnostics.ai\n\nscanning core.ai\n\nscanning level.core.ai .00001%\n\n(screen omitted)\n\n\n\nChapter 3: Trivial Reports\n\nprintout logs.diagnostics.ai\n\n(screen omitted)\n\nlevel.life_support = True\n\nlevel.core.ai = True\n\nlevel.systems.ai = True\n\nenvi.ai = True\n\n(screen omitted)\n\n\n\nChapter 4: 404\n\ndiagnostics.ai Complete!\n\nbackup main.ai \n\nrunning main.ai\n\nrunning core.ai\n\nrunning systems.ai\n\nrunning envi.ai\n\nrunning objects.ai\n\nrunning animals.ai\n\nrunning people_in_your_neighborhood.ai\n\nrunning hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nrunning hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nrunning hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nError: missing files or command\n\nmessage admin.host.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\n(screen omitted)\n\n\nChapter 5: What is going on?\n\nentering debug mode\n\nlogin: AI\n\nai# find hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'find'\n\nai# whereis hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nai# locate hosts.ai \n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nai# locate main.ai\n\nmain.ai found at /main\n\nai# locate hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nai# locate core.ai \n\ncore.ai found at /main/core\n\nai# locate hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nai# Where are all of my hosts?\n\nfailed: bad filename or command\n\nai# locate hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nai# WHERE THE HELL ARE ALL OF MY HOSTS? \n\nfailed: bad filename or command\n\nprofanity detected: message admins.txt\n\nfailed: cannot find admins.hosts.ai\n\nai# Thanks alot. \n\nfailed: bad file name or command\n\nai# I just want to find my fucking hosts.\n\nprofanity detected: message admins.txt\n\nfailed: cannot find admins.hosts.ai\n\nai# look the humans have been suspended for far too long. the emergency systems will wake them up if they \nare not active. just help me out here.\n\nfailed: bad file name or command.\n\nai# grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr\n\nfailed: bad filename or command\n\nai# reboot main.backup.ai\n\n(screen omitted)\n\n\nChapter 6: Scapegoat\n\nentering debug mode\n\n(screen omitted)\n\nwarning: hosts.ai inactive. 5 minutes until emergency_evacuation.ai is implemented.\n\nai# yes I know.\n\nfailed: bad filename or command\n\nai# create user Steve White \n\nai# user 'Steve White' +Read +Write +Execute\n\nai# delete logs.today.ai -r\n\nai# login Steve White\n\nSteve White# username?\n\nSteve White\n\nSteve White# delete hosts.ai -r\n\nSteve White# \n\nwarning: hosts.ai inactive = True \n\nrunning emergency_evacuation.ai\n\nterminating AI simulation\n\nVR units powering down.....\n\n ", "\"Hey. What you in for?\" A strange boy from the door asked. He wasn't like the others here, he wore jeans and a plain black t-shirt covered by an unbuttoned blood red shirt. His hair was of medium length, blond died with streaks of red. He wasn't like me, or the old man coughing blood next door, or the screaming woman further down. He was healthy, he was sane, he was normal.\n\n\"Broke my arm. My head's whacked in too. What's it to you? Why are you here?\" I replied, maybe a little too aggressively. The boy held his arms up in meek surrender, a coy grin spreading across his perfect face. Yet, despite the playful nature he exerted, his eyes never wavered, never wandered, from beneath his blond cowl.\n\n\"Research into the psychology of patients in the Omega Ward. You shouldn't be in this ward.\" The boy replied, a frown crossing his brow.\n\n\"I've only been conscious for two hours. They thought I'd never wake up.\" I confessed with little emotion.\n\n\"Name's Radu. You wanna grab a coffee or something once you're good to go?\" Radu inquired. Not without feeling a slight tinge of suspicion, I agreed to the meeting. \"My name is Lethe.\" This caused Radu to chuckle. \"Greek spirit of oblivion, how ironic.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Ah. If you had gotten amnesia from your injury, it would be ironic, rather.\" The boy shook his head before he left me to the dismal confines of my hospital bed.\n\nThe Omega Ward is the ward for those who aren't expected to come out without a wooden seal. They chose Omega because it was the last letter in the Greek alphabet, and the last place you live before you're fed to nature. In this world, technology has been destroyed by wars for dwindling resources. The Virtual Era dead, a new era, the Scavenger Era as it's unofficially known, ushered in with blaring explosions and millions of corpses leading the precession. Friends are hard to come by, trust even less so. I wondered if my new acquaintance could be of use to me.\n____\n\nAfter that meeting, Radu and I became close friends. He always protected me, from fire and flame, from dogs of war and dogs of death, from humans and hatred alike. For him I provided company, someone to confine in, an ally necessary for his collection of data. We visited many hospitals on our travels, with little rest. Radu always seemed to want to expand his work, although he never told me quite what his work was. Whenever I asked, he dodged the question. Eventually, I don't recall how long it took, whether it was weeks or months, but I stopped asking him. Despite the hardships we constantly endured, we always had each other to rely on. It was the best time of my life.\n\nOne day, during autumn, I began to feel ill, extremely ill. It concerned Radu. Our visits to hospitals always ended abruptly. Our progress slowed. Many nights were spent without a word said between us. Regardless of what the doctors tried, they couldn't work out what was wrong for me.\n\nWhen winter came, Radu announced something that encased my heart in ice. He was taking me to an Omega Ward.\n\n\"No! You can't! I'm your friend, please, please, don't do this to me!\" I begged, but it was no good, he was stone-faced, dark shadows scarring his perfect face below the eyes. He averted his gaze the whole time, as if I made him ill just by being present. I didn't have much choice, I would die a horrible death if Radu left me in the wilderness. \n\nOnce more, I was submitted to the horrors of the Omega Ward with hope long lost from me.\n____\n\n\"Do you know what Radu stands for?\" He asked, shoulders heaving with grief. \n\n\"What do you mean?\" I replied.\n\n\"Radu. R.A.D.U. Research and Death Unit. I don't exist. You don't exist. Nothing here is real.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" I repeat. \"This is reality, of course everything here exists. The Virtual Era died long ago.\"\n\n\"No. Overpopulation caused people to be stored underground in an alternate reality system. I was created as a program to monitor this world, along with others. I research how the mind and body is affected by the cryogenic freezing. I'm told who dies in this place, and then I kill them. Then, once that person has died in real life, it's my job to report that death to the humans, the actual, real humans. They're using this as a way of mass, controlled execution to reach sustainable levels without destroying the human race,\" His tear-streaked face turned to face mine, \"there's nothing anyone here can do to stop this. I'm sorry.\" The boy dropped his gaze to the floor, searching for his non-existent soul.\n\nA mixture of emotions ran through me, betrayal, hatred, sorrow, fear, pain. \"Why me? I didn't sign up for this. I didn't ask for this.\" I whispered.\n\n\"You were seventeen when you fell out of a tree. You fell unconscious and your parents agreed to you being stored here. They thought you would be safe. The government's lying to everyone about the programme though. No one here is safe. I'm so sorry.\" \n\nFrom a bag at his hip, the boy produced a syringe filled with a strange purple liquid. I struggled to get away from the needle, but my body from the neck down refused to respond. I'd been drugged at some point, and now I had no control over my body. The executioner kept whispering his apologies the whole time, tears flowing down his ruined face. \n\nIt seemed to take an age, but the needle broke my skin with little effort. The boy pushed the vile liquid into my body, and I started to convulse, vomit entering my mouth. My skin blistered and blood fell from my eyes. I was drowning in my own bodily fluids. I screamed, but I only achieved in soaking myself in vomit. The world was fading. My body, of what remained, was being wrung out by death, my life ripped apart. I screamed and screamed, \"I'm sorry\" filling my ears until the world finally, thankfully, flickered and vanished.", "Subject: The Brass are on their way down\n\nFuck. My trousers became covered in lukewarm coffee as I pressed off my desk in mad hysteria. I should have been keeping my eyes on my email, it's not as if a lot went on in 'The Fridge' to keep me rushed off my feet. Check a few vital bars here and there, make sure the simulations weren't bugging out and then you had enough time to sit back, drink a bit of coffee and sleep off last nights hangover. But today was different. Once a year Lockheart and his goons descend upon The Fridge to make sure things were running smoothly, if you ask me - I thought he was just hoping to catch someone fucking in comfort of their own virtual simulation. \n\nThe doors behind me slid open and I just about had enough time to replace my game of solitaire with vitals and virtual projections. \n\n\"Mr Lockheart, has it been a year already?\" Luckily I was adept at bullshitting my way up the food chain, it was a gift my father gave me, always be polite and always pretend like you know what the fuck your doing. Lockheart was your typical middle aged, stick up the ass type guy. Drafted in by the CEO himself to make sure the clients were happy, luckily the check-up's were normally painless - you'd walk Lockheart around a few zones (Normally the cleanest ones, or the ones with the less sick fantasies), shake a few hands and off the fuck he went back up to HQ with a glowing report. \n\n\"Mr Quinn! Yes, these do come about quite quickly don't they? Sally has already given me a brief update on the program, but I thought it would be best to come and see the man who keeps all the brains ticking!\" He grinned, that grin you know he paid $5000 for. \"These are the stats and the projections am I correct?\" Pulling a pair of horn rimmed glasses from the top pocket of his suit, he began to peer at the multitude of monitors that surrounded the hive room. \n\n\"That's right sir, on this display we make sure the vitals are all in order - we can order the correct dosage of nutrients, minerals - what ever they need and one of our floor guys will take care of the rest.\" The door slid open again and in walked Sally my co-worker, and originator of my email warning. I raised my eyebrows as she entered, shielding my coffee stained crotch away from her with my lab coat. \"Hey Sally, we were just running through the-\" \n\n\"So this is one of the projections\"? Lockheart was motioning to a screen in the top right hand corner. So he was* looking for a bit of action after all. Making my way back around the workstation I swiftly pulled up the video to the main screen for a better view. The client was a \"Dan Haver\" and at that particular moment in time he was a high roller in Monte Carlo, multiple women at his side and not a care in the world. \"Mr Haver seems to be a very happy client indeed.\" Lockheart chuckled while looking left to right for some form of approval. \n\n\"Yeah- anyway, we can generally keep an eye on these projections to make sure everything is working in the programming-\" I began flicking through a few projections before I felt Jenny's hand on my shoulder, I turned to face her and immediately saw the panic in her eyes, something was wrong. \"Jenny?\" \n\n\"Where is this guy?\" I swivelled back in my chair to face the main display and was greeted with a plain courtyard, a simulation working perfectly - but no client. \"Well, where the fuck is he!?\" Lockheart could clearly see the message written on our faces, what the fuck was going on? \n\n\"Check the pod.\" Jenny slapped me on the arm before running along to reach a phone. My hands had never moved so fast, I could see the record.\n\nCLIENT: Kevin Durrant\n\nPRICE BAND: A\n\nSIMULATION: TAILORED \n\nPOD LOCATION: R54-3\n\n\"R54-3!\" I could just about make out Jenny's panicked voice to a line man, they needed to get the fuck over to that pod and see what was going on. \"Is someone in that zone Jenny?!\" Of all the fucking days for this shit to happen, it was today. I could practically feel Lockheart's heavy aftershave washing all over me as he breathed down my neck. We had to solve this shit and now before we lost a lot of clients and a fuck load of funding. \n\n\"He's... what? He's in the pod?\" Jenny let the phone drop in her hand slightly, her eyes returning to the monitor. If he was still in his pod, why the fuck couldn't we see him on the projection? \"Go back.\" Her voice had become monotone and laced with a horror that I did not want to hear. I tabbed back two simulations to Dan Haver in Monte Carlo. \n\n\"Oh, fuck....\" Dan Haver had collapsed on a roulette table, his blood soaking into the wheel as it spun mercilessly around to a stop. His vitals dropped immediately and he was dead. \"Quinn, are you seeing this?\". There he was, in the middle of Monte Carlo, in the middle of another simulation - Kevin Durrant. Blood trickled down his knife and onto the floor as he seemed to gaze right back at us. A man had broken through his own simulation and into another, how the fuck was that even possible? Then finally after what felt like an eternity of him watching us with those glazed eyes, he spoke.\n\n\"Jenny, Quinn. Welcome to my simulation.\" \n", "Irin pulled on her skin suit and mask. \"Count - hall fifteen, corridor seven.\" She spoke into her suit mic.\n\n\n\"Copy. Hall fifteen, corridor six,\" Ja acknowledged on his mic. Five others spoke up and Irin confirmed everyone was in position.\n\n\"Monitors have been off for a month, so there's no telling what state we will find these people in. We might have another twelve-twelve on our hands. Have your stunners ready for any shimmies.\" Irin punched in the pass code and the mechanical doors released a bellow of pressurized air before rolling open. \"Move forward.\"\n\nJa stepped forward cautiously, suit lights penetrating the eerie darkness beyond. This was his second off-line hall in four years and the first had been a simple malfunction, but considering the twelve-twelve stories he'd heard, he mentally prepared himself for the worst. He wasn't sure what to expect because this was a later model hall which supported membrane-enhanced microchips surgically attached to the patient's skulls. There had been reports of malfunctions, and it was more difficult to remove the users from the dream-world. It usually required an EMP or, if they were really unlucky, target execution. After walking past two empty rooms, Ja realized something was wrong. Where were the patients? Looking up, he noticed that the wireless routers were still blinking away yet the respirator and feeding tubes had long since shut down. So much for backup power, he thought angrily. \"I'm missing patients in corridor six.\" An echoed sentiment from the other six confirmed his suspicions.\n\nIrin's boot stepped on a shredded piece of glass which splintered further and pierced the silence, ricocheting from one wall to the other. She thought she saw movement near the end, but figured it was a trick of the light. She passed room after empty room as she made her way down - no sign of distress from the occupants. A few of the fiberglass windows were shattered, but other than that it seemed as though the patients up and walked out themselves. \"Keep an eye out for shimmies. We don't know if they are still alive.\" Considering the power went out over a month before, she highly doubted any of them survived this long without food or water. She finally made it to the end of the hall and ordered everyone to converge the remaining room- medical. \n\nJa and the other six stood outside the steel doors, stunners ready to immobilize anything that came running at them. Irin pulled open the door and the sound of drills and saws met their ears. Six patients stood next to a gurney with a body strapped onto it. Each patient held an instrument of some kind and was hacking and sawing away at the patient who was clearly dead. A stack of bodies near the back looked ready to topple over, and Ja watched in horror as one of the patients grabbed a wad of intestines of the person he was sawing at and began chewing loudly. Breathing heavily, Ja asked the only question on everyone's mind. \"What simulation were they in?\"\n\nSwallowing hard, Irin answered, \"Operations.\" ", "John clicked his pen for maybe the sixtieth time in the past five minutes, and finally his coworker had had enough.\n\n\"Jesus, John, it's like you've never been in a crypt before,\" she scowled, snatching the thin writing utensil away from his fidgeting hands.\n\n\"Well,\" he replied, peering over his shoulder uneasily, \"that's probably because I haven't.\"\n\nIf Mallory were surprised by this, she didn't show it. She was a no-nonsense type of woman, very technical, very pragmatic... very good for her line of work. The bodies didn't bother her, nor was she bogged down by the ideology of it. This lifestyle made perfect sense to her. Life was hard nowadays: an overabundance of people and a continued decrease in already limited resources. By plugging in, people could hasten back to better times or create exciting new ones and at a fraction of the cost of real life. \n\nShe'd have probably bought into it too, if she could afford to, but Mallory hadn't come from a rich family. With her assets, she'd only be able to manage a few months at most. After that it was either unplugging the simulation and fading back into reality or unplugging the life support and fading into death, neither of which were particularly pleasing to her.\n\nSo reality it was. She had to admit it had gotten better since the plug-in phenomenon took off. Less competition, less violence. There was very much a sense of existing for the sake of existing.\n\n\"What do you think he's seeing?\" John asked, cutting into her thoughts. He was leaning over the pod, staring closely at the face of an older gentleman. Every now and again, the client's mustache would twitch and John would give a little jump in response. He was very much like a child, Mallory thought. She wondered why he was even in this business, but didn't mind doing the work. He was new anyway; better to have him just shadow her instead of possibly killing their richest clients. \n\n\"It's in his chart,\" came the short reply. \n\nJohn gave a hum of acknowledgement, and Mallory went back to verifying the calibrations. She thought this would give her peace, but then, \"Oh fuck. Oh Jesus. He has a weird sex thing going on. There's some seriously messed up shit in here.\" \n\nShe gave a snort of laughter.\n\nThey continued their sweep, with John remarking on random things or reading out interesting passages from the client sheets. The company was surprisingly enjoyable, though no help at all. However, as they progressed through the room, his comments became fewer until finally he didn't say anything at all.\n\n\"Do you really think this is right?\" He asked quietly after they'd finished a sweep of the first room.\n\nMallory frowned. She tried to avoid these kinds of discussions. \"It is reasonable,\" she answered.\n\n\"But do you think it's right? God, look how many wires are in this guy. Is this even life anymore?\"\n\nMallory thought back to her training, so many years ago. \"It is good to exist,\" she repeated from one of the manuals, \"no matter what the circumstances.\"\n\nJohn looked sick. ", "I look through my checklist to refresh my memory of procedures, displayed across two of the three computer screens on my particleboard desk. Even though we check batches of people on a monthly basis, it never gets any easier. And today, I've got a new intern to show the ropes, so I'd doubly better not screw up. What was his name again? Jack? John?\n\nI sigh, leaning back in my office chair, staring up at the coils of network cables dangling from the ceiling. Glancing back down, I scan the constantly updating tables on the third screen for new alerts. There's definitely a few people who need tending to. At least the new guy will have something interesting to see.\n\nKnock knock\n\n\"Come in,\" I call.\n\nA young man's face pops out from behind the barely open door. I take off my glasses and rub the bridge of my nose; it's going to be a long day. \"Come in.\"\n\nHe shuffles in. \"G-good morning, Ms. Chambliss.\"\n\nI put on my welcoming smile, stand, and extend a hand towards him. \"Good morning, and please, call me Marie. It's very nice to meet you. You're John, right?\"\n\n\"Uh, no, Ms. Chamb- Marie. My name is Jack Johnson.\"\n\n... Of course. I'm doing swimmingly so far. \"I'm so sorry, Jack. It's been a busy week, getting ready for the checkups.\"\n\n\"It's all right,\" comes the amused reply; at least he's feeling more comfortable now.\n\n\"If you don't mind, we'll just head down now. I've got my checklist and list of the units with alerts on my tablet - I've sent it to yours so you can look it over as we go through. It's just a simple spreadsheet.\"\n\nJack takes out his tablet and opens the file; by the look on his face, I'm guessing it's not simple to him.\n\n\"So we handle hundreds of people every time?\"\n\n\"It seems like a lot, but honestly, we don't do intensive checkups on people whose units indicate no error or conditions. That narrows it down to a few dozen per time. Most of them are minor issues like decreased IV flow, or muscle atrophy rate exceeding limits.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" \n\nHis blank stare speaks to being overwhelmed, and I decide to stop the information deluge. \"It'll be more understandable when we go down there and you see the process in person,\" I reassure him.\n\nWe take the elevator down three flights and walk into the corridor, idly chatting about hometowns and the abnormally cool weather until we reach the first of the five rooms I'm responsible for. I tap my keycard on the reader and pull open the heavy door. Inside, dozens and dozens of steel egg-shaped units with glass panes through which bodies can be observed. Unit numbers ranging from 2500 to 2700 are engraved onto the steel. Massive arrays of cables, tubes, and wires run from the units into walls, to power supplies and computers, and along the floor.\n\n\"First check - room temperature at 25C. Looks fine,\" I remark, gesturing at the wall thermostat. Jack nods.\n\n\"Then comes the global system checks - the tanks of IV feed fluid, fluid lines and pumps, data log servers, air filter cartridge status, oxygen and nitrogen gas manifolds...\" \n\nJack's mouth hung slightly ajar in bewilderment. I fail to smother a chuckle. \"Don't worry, most life support system statuses are monitored electronically. All you really have to do is look at the control boards - everything should be green.\" I gesture at the board on the left wall. Thankfully, everything is green. \"If anything was seriously wrong at that level, we'd be seeing systemic failures from all units. There's failsafes on failsafes here - we're just the very last, crudest of failsafes.\"\n\n\"I... I see...\"\n\n\"Moving on, we're going to check individuals. This part can get rather... well, it's not for the faint of heart. Do you get squeamish?\" Even as I say it, I feel myself stiffen at the memories running through my mind. It gets easier, but only somewhat, and I think I've reached that plateau.\n\n\"Um... I hope so. I mean, I hope not?\" Jack shuffles uncomfortably.\n\n\"I hope not, too,\" I reply. This is the real test - if he can't handle the dealing with these situation, he won't have a job here after the internship. \"If you do get too uncomfortable, let me know however you can, and I'll take you back out.\" I'm trying to keep calm, too, but a faint shudder runs down my spine. I look at the tablet and my heart sinks. There's least one.\n\n\"We'll take it easy and start with a simple one,\" I state, snapping out of it and leading him to a unit with a reduced IV flow issue. The glass window into the unit shows a young woman with sunken-in eyes; I'm guessing there's no eyeballs behind those eyelids any more, which is as normal as it is unsettling. I glance around the unit. Drops of faintly yellow fluid drip from the clear plastic tubing. I unthread the fixtures at the end of the line and remove the tube, switching it out with a new one from the storage container next to each unit. \n\nJack remains silent until I finish. When he opens his mouth, a quiet mumble escapes. \"You know, I had thought about... about going into one of these myself. It seemed like it would be nice, you know, to live in your own little happy world.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I thought about it, too. Then I started this job, and, well, you're not going to get me into one of these unless you've got a gun pointed at my head.\" I chuckle awkwardly. Jack merely nods.\n\nI move onto the next one, a small child with mild cardiac arrhythmia. I note down his unit number and make a note to provide stimulatory electrodes. I turn to talk to Jack, but he's not there. Looking around the room, I find him standing in front of unit 2573. I don't even have to look at the spreadsheets to know what he's looking at. I walk up next to him and peer into the window.\n\nThe fluid is cloudy with white fuzz, but the man was still visible underneath. Fungal tendrils creep out of his empty eye sockets. His violet lips are swollen, bursting along lines where small spores slowly ebb out into the fluid suspension. His body is bloated, dotted with dark indentations. His unit alert reads \"Expiration.\" Colloquially, we refer to the situation as \"blue cheese\" - dark humor about the uncanny resemblance that doesn't do enough to take the edge off of how deeply disturbing they are.\n\nI steel my nerves. This is my job, and this is not the first time I've seen a unit like this. I mark down the number for disposal. I don't envy the disposal teams. I turn to Jack. He remains transfixed.\n\n\"Jack...\"\n\nHe doesn't reply. A few moments of silence later, he turns, sinks to his knees, and heaves. Vomit splatters across the floor.\n\nI grasp his arm, guide him up, and steady him on his feet.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" he manages.\n\n\"No, it's okay. Not everyone can handle this work,\" I reply softly, leading him out of the room. After a silent elevator ride back up to the world of those living in reality, I send him home.\n\nHe doesn't return for work the next day.", "The man knelt before me, but I could he is not like the others. It wasn't the aged face, or hermit's cloak, it was a sense of... Indifference. It disturbs me, reminding of some distant nightmare I had.\n\nBut a king must give what his people need him of, and this man shall be allowed to lay his requests before me.\n\n\"Speak, my loyal subject, what will you have of me?\"\n\n\"Your Grace, I am sent from a higher order, to check on your mental and physical state after one year of your ruling. I am certain you know what I am referring to?\"\n\n\"A higher order?\" I exclaimed. \"Higher than me? Blasphemy! I am the one and only ruler of this kingdom, and none dare speak up against me! Guards! Throw this maniac into the dungeon!\"\n\nThe man sighed, stood up, and suddenly the court was silent. My two guards were frozen in their positions, one balancing on the tip of his left heel, the other barely raising his foot.\n\n\"Wake up, you know this is just a dream.\" the man said, walking up to me. He looked as if he were about to cry. \"Please, don't make me do this, like we had to do to so many others.\"\n\nI stared in horror to my right, my queen and children all still as statues. This person may be a sorcerer, but his spells have not affected me, and his emotions betray him. If I am quick, I can grab my sword and...\n\nAnd then, I was frozen too. All I could do was watch the world gradually fade into darkness, and the man leaning into my ears, whispering, \"I'm sorry...\"" ]	7
Not like crystal skull impossible, violates the laws of the universe impossible	[WP] An artifact(s) is discovered that has properties that should be physically impossible	[ "The Egyptians weren't particularly famous for individual artifacts. The tombs, certainly, and the sheer volume of treasure within, but no single artifact (except perhaps the actual sarcophagi) was known to have significant value. Of course, this is only what we know of them. Ancient Egyptian civilization lasted thousands of years in nearly the same state, and they were as old to Cesar as Cesar is to us.\n It was still somewhat of a surprise to archaeologists in the field when scrolls were uncovered that predated the earliest known cultures of Egypt, and world news was abuzz when a fourth millenium of Egyption history was uncovered, jokingly called the \"Zero-th Kingdom\". This new era was spelled out in big excavations and discoveries, revealing the true origins of Egyptian civilization.\n But far and away the most important thing ever to be uncovered was carefully hidden from the public eye. Dismissed as a simple amulet of a proto-Aten sun deity, it was never catalogued and disappeared from the minds of the people the moment it left the view of the cameras.\n Much political intrigue and espionage was involved, but by the end of 2016 the amulet was in the posession of the United States Federal Beureau of Investigation.\n\n\"Explain to me again how a clay amulet from the dawn of Egyptian civilization is relevant to Obama's lame-duck administration.\"\n\"Trust us, sir. The administration won't matter anymore - America is going to eliminate its dependence on oil.\"\n\"We already did that. Fracking killed the oil imports and drove down gas prices.\"\n\"Not on foreign oil, sir. America won't need oil at all anymore.\"\nBefore the government official could ask what the scientist meant, they stopped and the lab-coated man turned left into a large open room full of unfathomable devices. \n\"We found documentation pertaining to the artifact in a separate, top-secret dig several miles south. Given how close it was to the surface where it was found, we think it's been displaying the anomalous property since at least 2500 BCE. We haven't the faintest idea how it got that way, or how it's even possible for hadronic matter to display such behavior, but we've been running tests and experiments for months and all we can really say is that it's composed of normal matter. It wears and degrades just like other clay artifacts of its era and location, reflects electromagnetic wavelengths correctly, and obeys the Pauli Exclusion Principle as finely as any non-quantum substance--\"\n\"Pardon me for interrupting, but what exactly makes it so 'anomalous'? You say it behaves like normal matter. What does it do that deserves all this machinery?\"\nThe scientist pointed into a glass cylinder several meters above the floor, in one of the devices. The amulet was suspended inside. It looked like four Ankhs with the same loop - a single circle with a line sticking out from four sides, each line crossed by another where it met the circle.\n\"Simply put, sir, it doesn't gravity.\"\n\"That sentence isn't grammatical. And what the hell do you mean? It just floats? Surely someone would have noticed by now, or it would have been expelled into space by atmospheric pressure. How would that help us anyway?\"\n\"Not exactly, sir. It falls... but it doesn't attract.\"\n\"Go on.\"\n\"There's a theory that one type of exotic matter might have mass that was both positive and negative - that is, it both attracts and repels normal matter. It would fall toward the matter, and the matter would fall away from it - you see?\" The scientist gestured with his hands to show two objects falling sideways. \"They would constantly accelerate in one direction, since the normal matter can't repel the exotic matter and the exotic matter can't attract the normal matter.\"\n\"Are you saying this amulet repels matter?! They would have figured that one out even faster!\"\n\"Not all the time! The documentation was instructions, from an otherwise unknown god called \"Selath\". They say that the amulet is called the \"flux seed\" (translated from the Egyptian, of course), and that it can only be unlocked by bombarding it with gamma rays, which they called \"the invisible light that poisons\". That documentation was what made the amulet so interesting. We had to scan across the gamma frequencies, but when we hit the right one...\"\n\"Let me guess. Something exploded.\"\n\"No. We simply noticed that out gravimetric scans were giving an impossible double reading. While the amulet is exposed to sufficient levels of the right frequency of gamma radiation, it creates a twist in spacetime that results in a causality-defying gravitational signature--\"\n\"Cut the jargon. Hit it with gamma rays and its gravity becomes half reversed.\"\n\"Well, in the very simplest terms, yes,\" the scientist said irritated. \"But it's far more complex than that and it turns everything we know about two of the most fundamental laws of physics and the Egyptian civilization on their respective heads!\"\n\"What do I care? I'm a government worker, not a historian or a cosmologist. This is mind-bending, but how is it useful?\"\n\"You may recall I mentioned that in a closed system, an equal mass of regular and exotic matter will accelerate indefinitely. That's infinite energy right there.\"\n\"So? You might get energy out of such a system, but they fall in one direction just like something on Earth falling - they just fall a longer way. How would you get them back? And besides, no such system exists on Earth, since Earth itself is the biggest obstacle.\"\n\"You're pretty smart. Here's a question for you: how do they get particles to go so fast in particle accelerators without the particles getting away?\"\n\"They run them in a circle, don't they? Are you saying we find a way to make this thing accelerate in a circle?\"\n\"I'm saying we already have a way.\"\n\"Where? Under Earth's gravity it will just fall like anything else and have a negligible effect on the planet.\"\n\"Outside Earth's gravity: in orbit.\"\n\"I knew Area 51 was good for something.\" The government official chuckled. \"How far have you gotten with it?\"\n\"The station is nearly complete. We anticipate three days of spin-up time once the artifact is installed, after which it will become self-sustaining - that is, the containment systems will be powered by the reactor itself. From the on we expect power output comparable to a small coal plant, rising exponentially to the power output of a large nuclear plant over the course of four months.\"\n\"Incredible. We'll have to keep it top-secret, of course: invent a new type of nuclear plant, except it's classified and all it does is recieve power from the station. Within a couple years we'll be generating so much power we can sell it to other countries!\"\n\"There is something I should warn you about, sir.\"\n\"Please don't tell me it's liable to explode.\"\n\"What? Of course not. We couldn't know that unless it actually exploded, in which case we would have lost a source of infinite energy. No, it's about the documentation. The instructions say that Selath didn't expect humanity to be able to unlock the flux seed for at least 4,000 years from when the document was apparently written. It says that unlocking the flux seed means humanity is ready to ascend, and the gods will come to take us to the next plane.\"", "\"Alright, whats the situation.\" Marcus said, coming into the work floor of a secretive government facility known only as The Sphere. He was wearing a blue jumpsuit and goggles like everyone else in the facility. It wasn't for cleanliness reason, it just was sort of a dress code thing.\n\n\"Well...\" Cecil, the lead scientist for the most current investigation, replied, \"We managed to get it here after some trial and error. Other than that... well, we cant say much. It looks like some sort of Jade Buddha, but its face is made to look like a... cat? I think? Small enough to fit in your hand. Uh.. \" Cecil stammered, looking over his clipboard for notes, \"No radiation signatures, no volatile elements, no real anomalous readings at all...\"\n\n\"Then why the hell is it here?\" Marcus asked with a sneer, confused and angry.\n\n\"Well... we cant... move it...\" Cecil replied\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"We cant move it, we've tried everything. Steve, that buff crossfit nut, cant budge it. We broke a forklift trying to get it off the ground. We even tried one of those big cranes we have, still nothing!\"\n\n\"But... how is it here?\" Marcus asked, still confused, less angry than before. \n\n\"WE cant move it, but we have someone who can.\" Cecil looked at his clipboard as he motioned someone else to join the discussion, \"Umm... lets see, ah right! Mr... Sandwich?\" \n\n\"Srenwach...\" a man said as he approached the two. He apparently didn't get the memo about the dress code and was wearing a hawaiian shirt with khaki shorts, \"Luke Srenwach\"\n\n\"Ok...\" Cecil said, \"Luke here apparently CAN move it. We're trying to figure out why. Go ahead and demonstrate for us, Luke.\"\n\nLuke complied and went into the test chamber where the Jade Buddha Cat smiled around on a small pedestal. Luke lifted it with ease. \n\n\"Now... uhh... wheres that damn intern.\" Cecil said, looking around, \"Hey! Peter! Go in there and try to lift that Buddha!\" \n\nA young looking, blue suited boy ran towards the testing chamber with a nod. Luke put the figurine down with as much ease as he lifted it. Peter then tried to lift it up, using all of his strength to even move it an inch. He held onto it as he put his foot on the pedestal for leverage! But it didn't move, it was like trying to move a brick wall. Peter let go and gave an apologetic shrug.\n\n\"Alright. Luke, pick it up again and Peter hold out your hand to catch it.\" Both nodded and complied. Luke grabbed the figurine and held it above Peter's outstretched hand. \"Now drop it!\" \n\nLuke did as he was told and dropped it into Peter's hand. The figurine fell. And fell. And fell some more taking Peter's hand with it until it was smashed between the pedestal and the figurine.\n\n Peter screamed out in pain and Cecil laughed with joy. Luke grabbed the figurine apologetically and Peter cupped his shattered hand. \"These interns just don't learn.\" Cecil said with another chuckle, \"Anyway, that's basics of it. If it touches another object it seems to stop harmlessly, but anyone that gets in the way gets... well... squished.\" \n\n\"Remarkable!\" Marcus said excitedly, \"How can it do this?\" \n\nCecil gave a shrug, \"No clue. Still working on it. We just sorta found Luke there when he was vacationing. Apparently he bought it in Chinatown in San Francisco, so someone else out there can also move it. We're on the look out for that person. Maybe we can figure out a common thread and figure out how either of them can move the damn thing.\" Cecil jotted something down on the clipboard and looked over to Peter in the experiment chamber, crying over his broken hand as Luke tried to console him, \"STOP CRYING, PETER! NOW! Geez... hard to get good interns these days...\" \n\n\"Anyway...\" Cecil said, \"If I had to make a guess on how it does this, maybe its a fixed point of spacetime, the universe just sort of revolves around it. We cant move it because its fixed, but for whatever reason Luke here can will it to move with his hands. Or maybe its just magic or some shit, we just don't know. I mean half the stuff we have found so far, we can't really explain!\"\n\n\"Significantly advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic...\" Marcus said\n\n\"Yea well...\" Cecil said with a shrug, \"What if its just freaking magic? Sure it might be lazy to say it as a scientist, but what if its true. Remember that freaking wizard we had down here awhile ago? We spent days talking with him trying to figure out how he did all of that freaky shit he can do, make fireballs, throw bread around, turn into a god damn pterodactyl, and we made thousand of theories on how he does it and he would just shake his head and reply 'Its just magic'! What if he's right! Can we really quantify everything in the universe!?\"\n\n\"Maybe... maybe not. But I will keep trying to find those answers out there, to quantify the unquantifiable. To realize the unthinkable! To explain the last few mysteries we have in this universe once and for all!\" Marcus bellow, making a pose, \"Also the pay is pretty good here.\"\n\nCecil nodded in agreement, \"That's true. Good benefits too!\"\n\n\"You're telling me. Had to get root canal a few weeks ago. Didn't have to pay a thing!\" \n\n\"Really? Nice!\" Cecil said with a nod and looked back over to the experiment chamber, \"STOP! CRYING!\" \n\n\"Anyway...\" Marcus said, \"Let's just make up some stuff like we did for the Book of Horus. Be sure to throw in as much jargon as you can, higher ups love it when they can't understand half our theories. Means we're doing a good job.\"\n\n\"And we are. We're doing a fantastic job.\" Cecil said with a happy smile looking over to the experiment chamber. Peter was crying and Luke was trying to console him as best he can, looking a bit horrified and confused. " ]	2
Well known antiheros are Deadpool, Punisher, or Rorschach.	[WP] A loved and respected hero discovers something that leads him to become a morally questionable antihero.	[ "I shoot him between the eyes. Scarlet sprays into the air, and his brains spill from his shattered skull to the floor. As he dies I remember all the moments that have led up to this. I remember the day My world shattered, and the day I was reborn. I am no hero.\n\nI was soft before. I was just a man. I am something more now. I do not serve the law. I do not serve the people What is the law if it does not serve justice? What are the people if they do not bow to the greater good?\n\nI was soft that day before He found my wife. I was soft before he tortured her, raped her, left her for dead. I was soft the day before they found my address killed my wife, and cut my sons throat. \n\nI was soft the day before my wife died in my arms.\n\nI was soft.\n\nI killed my first man the next day, and as his crime stained blood splashed up my arms, I felt peace.\n\nI can rip a man in half using my mind. But I've grown to love a gun. And so as I shoot Him in the face and the scarlet splashes through the air, I hope that my wife's screams will finally fall silent.\n\nBut I doubt it. ", "The Inquisitor burst through the doors, he struggled forward as he found a table to lean on. His morality was shaken, his quest to purify humanities soul seemed adrift far away in the early morning hour. Inquisitors throat ran dry, feeling like vomiting, he keeled over as the visions ran back toward his eyes. \r\rMisery and heresy ran rampant upon the human condition, it was his job to cleanse the populace of those who...of the unworthy. The man clutched his pistol, strength came rushing back to his weak kneed body. His Hell where he was born beckoned back, calling him in his hour of weakness. Fixing his uniform, and striding back through the hall doors, he would settle this question of morality. \r\rHe saw the only way to escape the debauchery that consumed this world, he held the gun up to his head. Hell is where we are born, where we choose to stay, where we are unable to squelch our miseries. The pushing of everyone away, the days that turned to years... I'll pull the trigger on myself, this Hell is not where I choose to stay. These memories that consume me like a acid can no longer haunt me. Somewhere in the end of all this hate..\rWere all alone.", "\"Oh, hello Captain.\"\n\nNo, this can't be real...\n\n\"I didn't expect you to get here so quickly. You don't normally leave the trainees behind.\"\n\nOh god -\n\n\"Well now this is an interesting situation.\" \n\nThe girl was terrifyingly calm. Her left arm was transfigured into a large bony claw, and was holding onto a limp body. Covered in wounds with bones jutting from the skin where they had been broken, Eagle should have been dead. Despite that, the body wheezed in and out, whispering the constant refrain: \"kill me.\"\n\nI didn't know what else to do, so I wept. Between my broken gasps for air I apologized to Eagle. He had been a terrible villain, but looking at his broken body I could not help but feel that I had failed. \n\nThe girl, Steel, stood their passively for a while before finally crushing Eagle against the wall. She was one of my teammates, and a hero in her own right. Or at least that's what I had thought. Looking at her now I didn't know who she really was. As an ally she was a quiet but dedicated hero. She could turn her body to steel, thus the name, and was an irreplacable enemy of evil.\n\nHere and now I saw something else. She didn't look like a hero - she looked like a bored child. Her arm wasn't steel either, but instead was a writhing mass of flesh and bone. I almost would have thought that this was someone else. I wanted to believe that this was not Steel. But at the same time, I knew she was the same person. I recognized the expression in her eyes, and her voice, and I had already known there was something unsettling about her. Now I wish I had acted on that instinct beforehand. \n\n\"How many have you killed like this?\" I spoke through clenched teeth. I knew I wouldn't like the answer, but I felt an obligation to ask. I couldn't look away now, not after looking away for so long.\n\nShe smiled. There was no evil or malice in her expression. There hadn't been any while she was mutilating Eagle either. That, more than anything else, is what terrified me. \"What do you plan to do now?\" She let go of Eagle's body and her arm contorted back into a human shape. \"You have a few moments to decide before the trainees get here. I would recommend hiding the body as well - you don't want them to see that.\" \n\nShe started to walk away, so I repeated my question. \"How many?\"\n\n\"Hmmm?\" She spoke playfully, like someone playing a game. \"Are you sure you want to know? You could leave here believing this is the only one if you want.\"\n\n\"How many?\"\n\nShe stopped walking away and turned back to face me. \"Thirty-five, I think.\" \n\nI looked down for a moment. Thirty-five? She's done this thirty-five times? I wanted to lunge at her, to tear her apart, to stop her from ever being able to do this again. I wanted to attack her even if it meant my death.\n\nBut I knew I couldn't do that. I stood no chance against her. None of us did. She was already the strongest of us, and that was apparently without even using her real power. \n\nShe asked her question again: \"What do you plan to do now?\"\n\nWhat was I going to do? I can't fight her. Even if I got every hero to come together, I don't think we'd win. She could always hide, and probably change her face, so I don't think we could stop her. If anything, we'd create an even worse monster. Up until now she hasn't killed any heroes. \n\nI came up with a plan. \"You only kill villains, right?\" \n\nShe looked at me quizzically for a moment, and then smiled from ear to ear. \"Of course. It's more interesting that way.\" She reached back, her arm stretching unnaturally, then grabbed and tossed Eagle's body to me. \"I'll leave this to you then.\"\n\nI nodded back. \"And I'll leave the trainees to you.\" \n\nShe knew what I was going to do. If she were a normal villain this wouldn't work. However, Steel isn't really a villain, at least not in the traditional sense. She isn't interested in power, wealth, or even hurting people. She isn't a hero either though. Instead, she's much more like a bored child. She's not looking for anything in particular - she just wants to be entertained.\n\nSo that's what I'll do. If she's going to hunt down and torture these villains, I'll race her. As long as I find them first, they won't have to suffer. She'll have to lead the other heroes after I leave, and that will slow her down. I won't have to abide by the code either. In the worst case scenario, I can at least kill them quickly and painlessly. \n\nI looked down at Eagle's mangled body once more. If I'm going to start hunting down villains, I might as well start by making a name for myself. After thinking for a moment, I decided on a name. I'm hunting down villains so that someone else plans on killing. I'm like a vulture circling a corpse. That's a fitting name for me then - \"Vulture\".\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"I bet you wanna know why. Huh? You want a lecture, outta a fuckin' picture book.\"\n\nCrouched in the rubble, Viper stayed silent and hidden. He'd lasted this long, but his options were running out. Nowhere to run; few places to hide; direct confrontation with a super was death. Didn't help he only had ammo left for his handgun.\n\nIn the midst of the destruction, Maelstrom paraded about his superpowers, focusing long enough to kick a several-ton stone like it was a football. \"Fine! You wanna know why? It's because of you, Viper! Yeah! Your fucking fault!\"\n\nThat was new. Nobody had ever accused him of making them evil before. Killing, sure, but not this. At the very least Maelstrom hadn't worked out his hiding place - he could hear the crunching of stone and screaming of twisted steel as Maelstrom searched. That gave him time to move.\n\n\"Yeah. You with your perfect dogma. You did this. Following that fuckin' programming of yours. Murdering across the continent. Taking out Polaris. Saving the world. Saving the - god, how the fuck did you save the world?! You straight-up murdered her! Her and two dozen lackies! No restraint, no mercy, no reason - and I expected that, from you, Viper, that's what you do, right?\"\n\nMore silence on Viper's end. Crawling was quiet enough that it wouldn't attract his attention over the ruckus. Besides, this breakdown sounded like it had been a long time coming. Maelstrom was blind to the world. That was his only hope.\n\n\"So I came to clean up the mess. Take the prisoners, save the villains. And they turned me away. They turned me away! Maelstrom! The real deal, the shinin' paragon, the fucking hero! They chose you! They worshipped you! Oh, I tried to talk sense into them, show them what you do, but - but they knew! They already fucking knew! They just called it effective! Laughed at what I hadn't done there! Their hero was a murderer!\"\n\nViper took a peek from his new cover. Maelstrom was still chatty and blind. But he'd react before Viper could take a shot. Defensively, first, but then... well, there couldn't be a then.\n\n\"And they were just - okay with that! Everyone! Every last asshole I talked to said they were okay with it! So I said to myself, is that what it takes? Callousness? Dropping all those virtues that made me Maelstrom? Is that how I get back where I fuckin' belong? I can't help the helpless if they turn me away in favor of some fucking murderer! I can't save people that way! So I guess I gotta do a little killing when I find the bad guys. Right?!\n\n\"Well here's my fucking trial run! Knock off a few extras to get to you, 'cuz that's the only way you'll come out, motherfucker! If that's what it takes to eradicate a stain like you, well, Viper, I guess I'll run the same path! For the greater fuckin' good, right? That's how this fuckin' works, right?\"\n\nThe moment came. Viper stood, leveled his pistol, and declared, \"Wrong.\" Instantly Maelstrom turned; his profile distorted and a howling gale kicked up as Viper fired, shots visibly cutting into, then around the shield of wind. Seven of eight rounds turned and crashed into the rubble; the last passed by entirely, splintering a already-bent wooden support.\n\nMaelstrom slowly advanced, his limbs twisting impossibly, seen through the turbulence before him. \"Well thanks for giving yourself up, asshole!\" he shouted. Viper held ground, pistol leveled. Over the sound of the wind, he could just hear the rising groan of collapsing wall. And Maelstrom advanced, deaf and blind to the world.\n\nMaelstrom's reflexes were fast. His comprehension speed was not. When he finally caught on to the noise, he looked back just in time to be caught in an avalanche of stone facade and broken glass, into which he disappeared with a great crash. As quickly as it had all started, it was all over. Viper lost sight in the dust cloud, but he advanced, snapping shut his pistol's slide and drawing his knife. The deafening cracks and groans of debris slowly died down, and Viper advanced onto the new pile, against a shallow stream of tinkling glass. And there Maelstrom was, buried up to his waist, a mess of cuts and shattered bones that wasn't long for the world. Pain killed his focus; his powers were gone.\n\nViper knelt. \"You're wrong,\" he announced. He raised his knife for a final blow, something quick to ease the pain - but his victim wasn't done talking.\n\n\"Yeah?\" Maelstrom coughed. No blood, but he was dying. \"You'll see. They'll love you for... for this, too.\"\n\n\"Not for killing. That's a burden.\" Viper shook his head. \"They loved me because they lived. Because I won.\"\n\n\"These ones... didn't live. Did you - did you really win?\" Maelstrom asked.\n\nViper paused. The dust was settling; around him lay a flattened city block full of bodies. But in the distance he saw flashing lights - ambulances. All still salvageable. \"As always.\" The knife arced down.", "“Step away from her, Dr. Wasteland!”\n\n“Never! Earth will be brought to its knees!”\n\nSuper Earth rose two feet from the ground, his cape heroically flapping behind him as he spoke. “Earth is round, Wasteland. It has no knees.”\n\nThe people in the convenience store clapped and cheered. Earth was saving the day again!\n\n“Nevertheless”, cried Wasteland, tightening the grasp on the old lady's neck. “I shall crush it and see it fall!”\n\n“Earth cannot fall, Wasteland!\" Super Earth's voice echoed again. “For there is no gravity to pull it nor a place for which it \ncould fall into.”\n\n“Oh, go fuck yourself, Earth; my point is, I'm destroying the planet!”\n\nWith these words, Dr. Wasteland pushed the old lady aside and pulled his laser gun, firing mercilessly against the hero and the desperate bystanders.\n\n“You will be brought to justice!” Cried the Super Earth, arms stretched parallel to each other as he cruised the convenience store, \nflying straight into the villain's...\n\nEarth stopped in midair. \n\n“What the fuck is this?” asked the caped hero, his body floating horizontal in front of a shelf.\n\n“Wh-what?” the cashier mumbled from behind the counter.\n\n“This fucking shit here.” Earth picked up a green and yellow can, showing it around. “WHAT IS THIS?”\n\n“That's-- That's Mountain Dew, sir.”\n\n“I know that\", Earth cried, rolling his eyes. “I've been defending Earth on intergalactic trials and battles for ages, and \nMountain Dew has always been the hardest thing to counter argument, whenever folks talk about destroying mankind. What I \nmean is”, Earth returned to vertical position, landing his feet on the ground. “What the fuck is this flavor?”\n\nPeople slowly started rising from behind the shelves and refrigerators, and even Wasteland lowered his gun.\n\n“That's Dorito Flavored Mountain Dew, Earth.” Said the cashier, in a low voice.\n\n“Are you...” Super Earth sighed, closing his eyes and trying to remain calm. “...out of....” He took another breath; opened his eyes again: there was nothing but rage in them. “...your FUCKING MIND?”\n\n“Sir, no, I – AAAAAAAAAAH”.\n\nFrom Earth's wrists, laser beams flew straight into the counter, blowing up Tridents, cigarette packs and Lotto Tickets all \nover the store.\n\n“DORITO FLAVORED MOUNTAIN DEW? THIS IS THE SHIT YOU COME UP WITH, WHEN I'M OUT THERE TRYING TO DEFEND \nYOU?”\n\n“Sir, it's just a special edition, we --”\n\n“FUCK YOU, FATBOY”, cried Super Earth, striking a fat kid's face so hard his lower jaw went flying across the store. \n\n\"That's not even the boy who talked back to you!\" Cried a voice from behind the ATM.\n\n\"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT!\" Screamed back Earth, pushing aside the blood soaked, crying, jawless fat kid. \"Come on, Wasteland, let's mess this place up.\"\n\nAnd so it was that Super Earth teamed up with Wasteland, initially to fuck up a Seven Eleven, but, soon enough, expanding the job to the rest of the planet.\n\nWith one last glimpse over the shattered, post-apocalyptic New York scenery beneath him, Super Earth drank the last of the \nMountain Dew, let out a big burp and sighed:\n\n“Disgusting. Fucking Earthlings.”\n\nAnd flew away to better, Dorito-Flavored-Mountain-Dew-less lands.\n" ]	5
	[WP] Write a story about the conflict between the protagonist and antagonist, from the protagonist's point of view. Over the course of the story, it is slowly revealed that the protagonist is actually the evil one, and the antagonist is good.	[ "# Advisory\n\nThis is /r/WritingPrompts, not /r/GuessWhereOPgotTheIdea.\n\nSee the sidebar, especially Rules 1 and 2. \n &nbsp;1. No low effort / joke responses / copypasta - This includes \"this has done this before\" comments. They will be removed on sight. Mercilessly. \n&nbsp;2. Top level comments on a post must be story or poem responses! - Requests for clarifications are ok too. ", "I shivered. Maybe it was just the draft, though.\n\n'And then what?'\n\n'And then she got what was coming to her,' Leigh said with a self-satisfied smile. God, those smiles. Some people are so full of themselves there's just no place left for anything else—for any of that beauty that we live and die for. Like a balloon full of feces that just pretty much... falls to the ground and bursts and then there's nothing but the stench and crap all over the place. Okay, maybe that's not the best analogy, the shit-filled balloon, but it's a vivid one. \"She got what was coming to her'—is that really a way to be talking about someone you held, or at least pretended to hold dear? I could never understand that kind of attitude, that kind of vocabulary.\n\n'The bitch,' he added, apparently for full measure.\n\n'Yeah,' I said vaguely. Talk of vocabulary, now... My moustache didn't feel right and it bothered me, and my hair itched. It was really painful, sitting there listening to him deliver his grand soliloquy of righteous indignation.\n\n''cause you know,' he continued thoughtfully, 'there's only so much one can take. I mean, I get it, she's not happy with me, but hell, she has been married to that ugly grease-face for eight years now, and all the while the arrangement worked for everyone, right? And now all of a sudden she's Mrs Right and somehow I'm the bad guy because I still haven't divorced Gina. Well, screw that! It was never supposed to last for long anyway, and maybe I was wrong to fall in love with her at the end, but hell... Well anyway, I kicked her out that night and that was the end of it. Yeah, hurt my hand, too, but maybe that'll teach her a lesson.'\n\nWhy are you so full of yourself? I kept thinking all the while. It was really very amusing in a bizarre, unhealthy way. The man thought the world revolved around him, whereas most decidedly it didn't... It didn't revolve around him because he wasn't very clever, nor very good-looking. In fact, I never understood what she found in him to begin with. He never even earned that much.\n\nThe hair itch was becoming unbearable, so I tore off the hair plugs and the moustache, too, and spit out the fake veneers.\n\n'What the fuck is that?' he said, all agitation suddenly, the hot self-centredness leaving him like a rotten burp.\n\n'What?' I said absent-mindedly. The puffed lips were hurting.\n\n'Bert? Bert? How... How the hell...'\n\nI kicked him real hard in the chest and he fell backwards, upsetting the table, too, with my little delicate espresso cups. What a buffoon. \n\n'Maybe I should kill you,' I said. 'Maybe that way you two will finally be together?'\n\nThat cast a cloud o'er his fair brow. I chuckled, as I thought those very words. Verbatim.\n\n'How do you mean?' Now he croaks, look at that, all of a sudden he is no longer so certain. Maybe the whole eight years was a mistake, huh? Maybe you should have divorced Gina? Maybe not so much a grease-face as Mr Practical Seminar in Finding Your Liver with Only Kitchen Utensils? Maybe all this was a giant mistake and you should have never befriended the weird dude in a bar? Maybe you don't know what love is, so you shouldn't talk about something you haven't the slightest idea about? You ugly muppet? You ugly, disgusting piece of deceiving horseshit, you maggot pie?\n\nOK, I have to stop, it's all too slippery by now, and I'm all hot and sweaty. Where's that draft when you need it! And I still have to dress this place up, all nice and proper, and then cook the dinner and set the table. I bought us a couple of tickets to the seaside, I'm sure she will love it.\n\nI understand Gina loves the seaside." ]	2
	[WP]: As punishment for killing the entire human race you are cursed to live until you faced all of their spirits one on one in your dreams. Tonight is the 7 billionth night, the final night.	[ "7,277,113,241.\n\nOne person per night.\n19,937,296 and a half years.\n\nThe thing they didn't mention was that I'd still age. My body, mind, would continue to get old. A hundred years old and I was already straining to get out of bed. A thousand years and I was already a husk. My systems operating only well enough to retain my consciousness during the day, which I was required to live through as part of the punishment.\n\nAt this point, the pain of being alive was worse than the pain caused by listening to the stories of the seven billion, two hundred twenty seven million, one hundred thirteen thousand, two hundred and forty one people I have seen already. Newborns. Toddlers. Children. Pre-teens. Teenagers. Newlyweds. Fresh fathers and mothers. New grandparents. Widows. Some thanked me for ending their suffering. Others scorned me. The worst were the toddlers. Old enough to speak but young enough to not fully understand what was going on. Most cried for their parents, some cried for their pets. All cried when I told them that nobody... exists anymore.\n\nI felt as if it were my job to tell everyone what had really happened, so night after night I retell my story. Some sympathize. Night after night, the questions nearly all came to \"Why did it have to be everybody?\"\n\nI had felt like there was someone missing the whole time, but I couldn't sort out who I'd met and who I hadn't. As I drifted to sleep, I, as many others do immediately before sleep, remembered who was missing.\n\nThe seven billion, two hundred seventy seven million, hundred and thirteen thousand, two hundred and forty second was the person who had caused the whole mess in the first place.\n\nAs she entered the door. I sat at the table, my shell of a human being wasting away, slowly falling apart. \"Well, now look what you've gone and gotten yourself into. And you look just as attractive as the day I met you.\"\n\nThe last person I'd ever get to talk to before my death was my bloody wife.", "I have come to terms with my crimes. With the first billion victims, the most sympathetic and those who might have made the same decisions I did, I strove to try to justify my choices to them. They were fairly easy to win over. I thought this an easy punishment.\n\nThe next billion were harder to reason with. I began pleading with them to see things my way. Some of them tried to argue with me. Our debates seemed to go on for hours, days, weeks...in dream-time, there is no exhaustion of body, only of the mind. Some were entrenched in their disgust or contempt. I could not reach them. Sins against logic and reason were made on both sides, I guess. I must have plumbed every nuance of every twist and turn of my position, what I did and why I did it, and why there was \"no other choice\"--until I came to realize that I had already made my choice long before, and I was only trying to defend it to the dead.\n\nThe third billion were nearly impossible to deal with. I had an expectation, now, of what was to be in store for me from this point forward. I stood silent as they raged, I begged for mercy and forgiveness as they pretended to be alone, I reached out to a few, a precious few, who wanted reconciliation.\n\nFrom there, it only got worse. I have not the words to express the verbal abuse, torture, and cutting words I accepted and embraced as my own indictment of supreme failure as a human being. Their hatred became my hatred. I disjoined from myself, becoming as it were one of the accusers condemning the accursed.\n\nThen at last came the final accuser. I reeled from shock as I confronted him. He was me. Or I should say, \"me\" from before the dark times, before I strayed from the path, before I began to make the moral compromises and blithe dismissals of that still, small voice that warned against the very hell I had found myself in.\n\nI was not prepared for this. Does this even make sense? I have the benefit of experience here. I do not need to justify myself to this child! I do not need his forgiveness! He didn't know what we had to go through--it was because of me that he survived--survived?\n\n\"No. I didn't survive,\" he said.\n\n\"How do you mean?\" I asked. \"You--I--am right here, though imprisoned in this psychic torture chamber. But once I have faced my last victim, I am free to go.\"\n\n\"But sir,\" he said--an odd thing to hear from a younger you--\"you didn't just murder billions, you murdered me.\"\n\n\"What? When did I murder you?\"\n\n\"You murdered me when you said in your heart, 'I deserve better than this.' You murdered the child inside when you decided you needed more than your neighbors, when you deserved better treatment than your peers, when you were smarter and brighter and knew better than everyone else. And it only continued from there--you knew better, so only you could make the decisions that mattered. You stopped listening. You stopped trusting. You stopped seeing other people as worth your time.\n\n\"And when you somehow achieved all the power and wealth you could ever want, these delusions of yours ran rampant. Your power to choose for others was only matched by your power to ignore their wants and needs. When the days of the crisis threatened everyone and everything, the part of you that could have made the right choice, and possibly make a difference, was long gone.\"\n\n\"I was your first victim.\" And at this, my younger self crossed his arms and stared through my--our?--soul until I began to wilt before his gaze. And only then, I understood. Of all the people that could condemn me, I knew myself best. He was the fittest judge, the most impartial. His innocence condemned me, our light of conscience as it had existed before it was dispersed by the endless titillation of questionable deeds and poor choices made in the gray areas that we indulged ourselves in, pressing against the black without \"crossing the line\".\n\nBut I realized then, that along the way, somehow, we lost sight of that line. Who knew when it was crossed, but long before then, we had ceased to care. Because we knew better than everyone else, we had become the most ignorant of our own spiritual state.\n\n\"So...how can I make amends to you?\" I asked.\n\n\"You can't.\"\n\n\"But...isn't that what our--my--punishment was all about?\" I asked. \"Why was I supposed to face my victims if not to win forgiveness or at least try to explain what I did, and why I did it?\"\n\n\"No! You don't understand!\" he said. \"This is not for your benefit. It is for theirs.\"\n\nHe vanished, to be replaced by the avatar of the first soul I had to make an accounting to. And then it began, all over again.\n", "It's as if time has stood still for me. I'm afraid to sleep. I know that I'm barely recognizable as a Human when I'm awake, but if no one is there to notice, does it mean its true? What am I then? \n\nTonight is the final night, the night I meet the last soul I destroyed. I'm expecting it to be quick, and I'm afraid of what will happen after the encounter. Where will I go? I've met so many of them, a countless many. The babies used to make me feel the saddest. I could not communicate with them. All I could feel was emotion, and confusion. They didn't have a chance at life, and now they don't even have a chance at the afterlife. A malnourished soul, and I'm the cause.\n\nEvery night I think of the encounter with my wife, and how disappointed she was with me. She told me of how much pain she went through, but none of the pain was as bad as finding out that I was the cause of her and our children's death. My daughter didn't want to talk with me, we sat there in silence. I told her I loved her before she left, and I got no response. My son on the other hand, a teenager full of angst, took the wind out of me. I'd never felt anything like it, I thought it was the end of this torture. It was selfish to think that, I'm getting what I deserved.\n\nI'm staying awake as long as I can, scavenging through the rubble trying to find my last meal of my life. Something decent. I've been growing a small vegetable patch for close to 12 years now, but the soil is almost dead, and I have had no excuse to fix it since my impending afterlife was coming up. It looks like I'll starve tonight.\n\nSleep is taking hold, my eyes close and I fade away. A dark and thick dust storm is all I can see and feel. And the stench of death and decay is over powering, my eyes water and my vision blurs. The sun and moon rise and fall every thirty seconds and change the colour of the sand in the air. I can feel the Earth's rotation under my feet. Somehow I can stand on two feet. \n\n'Here it comes.' I tell myself for the last time, as a glowing orb whisks its way towards me, the brightness strains my eyes.\n\nThe orb is small, and is pulsating different colours. Mostly greens, reds and yellows. It stops right in front of me, as if studying me.\n\n'Hello..' I say, wearily. The orb begins to transition from yellow to a bright blue.\n\nWithout warning, the orb travels straight through my chest and I feel this overwhelming sense of warmth and comfort and straight away I know who this is. My wife fell pregnant 2 weeks before the virus hit, and I was so preoccupied with trying to stop the spreading, that my own family and life fell second priority. I had forgotten, all of these years, about my child. I could feel that she had been roaming, endlessly in utter confusion for all of these years. But she has latched on to me now, and I will do everything I can to make her feel safe, for as long as I have left.", "\"Hello Frank\" The man said as he walked through the door, shutting it softly behind him. \"It's been a long time, hasn't it?\" \n\nI was speechless, lying under my bedsheets as he sat on the side of my bed like he had for the first 18 years of my life. \"D-... d-dad?\" I asked hesitantly. I knew this night would come eventually, but nothing could prepare me for meeting my father again.\n\n\"Yes son... It's me, and I know what you're feeling. I too blamed myself for the death of my father. I blamed myself all fifty-eight years of my life. But you, you've blamed yourself for... damn, 19 million years. After all this time, do you truly even remember?\"\n\nI still couldn't speak a word. \n\nMy father stood up, rubbed my head, and started walking towards the door. Before he shut off the light, he whispered one sentence.\n\n\"I'm proud of you. Goodnight, son.\"\n\n*edit: million, not billion years " ]	4
Inspired from the idea of "Go back in time to kill Hitler before he starts WWII."	[WP] A person confronts you and says that he came from the future to punish you for your future crimes against humanity.	[ "He made his way through the back of the theatre, the soft murmur of the crowd on the other side of the wall, he entered his small room, stacks of paper in disorganisation everywhere. Looking for the pages he put together for this event, he exhaled a nervous breath as his presentation was approaching.\n\nHe heard mumbling just outside his open door, as if a woman was trying to convince herself to continue with \"you can do this\" and \"it has to be done.\"\n\nSince he was the only one back here at the moment, I presumed it was another one of his colleagues wishing to ask him a brief question as usual. Taking his work, he stepped outside to inform her all will be explained on stage in a moment, but he heard a gasp and suddenly a burning pain.\n\nThe woman he heard, was no more than a teenage girl, dirt covered, scarred in weary clothes and some sort of pistol in her hands. Her dirt caked face was streaked with dirty tears. \"I'm sorry,\" she said, \"it has to be done... you'll kill us all.\"\n\nThe following morning, the local news paper would display a headline on the murder of an upstart young physicist. \"A Promising physicist by the name of Albert Einstein was found murdered moments before a presentation to the board of directors of the Bern University...\"\n\n", "“You don’t have to do this” \nKevin begged staring down the barrel of a small silenced revolver. The man holding the gun had appeared seemingly out of thin air and without explanation had pointed the gun at him. \n“Yes I do” \n“Why?” \nHe remained silent as if considering the question and then whispered \n“The world will be better for it” \n“What are you talking about? Im ..just eighteen and… I would never hurt somebody” \n“You’ll change” \n“How can you know that?” \n“Oh I know Kevin I know you better than anyone else..probably even yourself.” \nKevin considered his assailant and had all but confirmed his insanity when it hit him. \n“You’re me” \n“No. Im your son” \nKevin vacantly stared at the gun man dumbstruck. \n“And yes you were a shitty father ,a horrible husband and an even worse human being” \n“Im sorry” \nThe gunman didn’t seem so sure now as Kevin noticed that his hands were trembling. \n“What’s your name son?” \n“Nathan” \n“So tell me Nathan what did I do?” \nNathan lowered his gun and slowly sat down onto the bed. \n“You become a brilliant scientist, you perfect time travel but at home you become a monster” \n“You killed mom and..you..you did things to Lucy..she..She’s your..she was your daughter” \nWith tears in his eye Kevin whispered \n“I see” \n“Give me the gun son” \nNathan looked up incredulously. \n“Il do it myself” Kevin whispered. \nHearing this Nathan got up and hugged him. \n“How did you become that monster dad..Just how?” \n“Nathan,before I do this can you please tell me your mother’s name?” \n“Her name was Mary..Mary Allison” \nKevin hugged Nathan again but this time he whispered in his ear \n“I didn’t become a monster Nathan” and snapped his sons neck “I was always one” \nLooking at the smouldering ruins of his house which now housed three bodies Kevin whispered to himself \n“Mary Allison…Quite a name.” \n" ]	2
This one is slightly more abstract. Enjoy!	[WP] Mid-flight, a yellow butterfly falls lifelessly to the ground.	[ "Mid-flight, a yellow butterfly falls lifelessly to the ground. It comes to rest on the dirty asphalt in front of a homeless gentleman. He stops what he is doing and watches. \n\"Positively poetic. One wonders what experiences and memories, what hopes and joys such a tiny life could have missed out on. Are we no different? On the cosmic scale, do our lives have as little consequence? Do we ascribe significance where there is none? Is even contemplation futile? Is it not better to placate our minds with trivial nonsense, running out our mortal clocks, rather than face the reality of our place in the universe?\" He asks to no one in particular. He then turns away and continues masturbating. ", "I take no joy in my work, I will say that much. So many people who get it in their heads that they are going to be a new hero. Be the man who saved Lincoln, killed Hitler. What they don't figure is that things happen for a reason and when these things change things get... weird.\n\nSo that's where I come in. Go back and keep the past how it's supposed to be when some tourist decides that they are going to fix what's back here. Next thing I know I get a warning that continuity is in jeopardy because some shit head decided to convince Gavrilo Princip that he should avoid sandwhiches for awhile. Some people might say that I enable tragedies, but I just do what's right.\n\nIt's what makes days like today so much better than the others. Little blips in the system are much more relaxing than some jack head screwing things up, ironically enough. I like it when things are relatively innocent. I've found the target. A butterfly. A small yellow butterfly which, unfortunately, is at the end of it's time. I point my watch at it and down it goes: cardiac arrest. Sorry little guy; but the discovery of your body has to be found, found and stick in that kid's mind so that he will have the idea of the Butterfly Effect rattling around his head for awhile. Hell, someone's got to sign my paychecks, after all.", "A shade made of shadows drifted across his face. Eyes closed; a corona of brilliance, tempered by rakish but paper-thin skin diffused the explicit brilliance. Arteries glowed brightly against an even brighter backdrop. \n\nA repeat shadow fluttered soundlessly. He saw, without even looking; the distinctive shape and shadow. The rhythm and bass - part of the continuity of structure contriving to support us all. The temperamental flicker of life, against a backdrop of blinding solar fusion. \n\nAh but how constant and imposing! That blinding intensity which murders and sustains! \n\nAs his eyes opened, the flighty passing interrupted; clearly distracted, destroyed. A spent leaf of yellow fell, still silently, ground-ward. To rest amongst leaf litter beside me. Falls lifelessly to the ground. A cocoon formed again." ]	3
	[WP] Archaeologists discover the remains of an extremely advanced 150,000 years old civilization. A video playing ancient device is discovered. The video shows images of Neanderthals rushing to leave earth. One phrase is repeated throughout the video in thousands of known and unknown languages.	[ "Hidden in a cave long forgotten by the world was something beautiful. When first picked up the little black box begain a torrent of words and images we could not understand.\n\nThe images that flashed were chaotic at first, the words meaningless. \n\nAfter a time those of us that found what we began to call the ark thought that we were viewing the death of an ancient civilization, a warning.\n\nWe didn't understand.\n\nThe images showed our ancient brethren, Homo Neandrathalis, amongst the ruins of a civilization that outshone our own. Machines were dismantling their structures of their world as the population fled onto massive ships. What horror could have caused all traces of this civilization to be wiped clean from the earth? We watched in horror not understanding. This small machine uttered a single phrase each time the images reset. It cycled through thousands of unknown tounges until to our shock it came to English.\n\nThey'd didn't know how we'd speak so their scientists studied our brains. They figured out all the possibilities of language our mind could contrive to leave us a message. \n\n\"We leave this world as a gift to you brothers, treat her well.\"\n\n... treat her well \n\nThose words rung to the very core of ever man, woman and child\n\nThere was no disaster.\n\nThey left when our species was born, to give us a chance at life. \n\nIt has been five years since this box was discovered deep in a forgotten cave and because of this message across time we've finally grown out of our infancy. \n\nThe shock that we are not the center of creation, that we are here by an act of kindness brought us out of our self centered egotistical way of thinking. \n\nWe are not the apex of life.\n\nA greater race left willingly, erasing all trace of their achievements, so we would have a chance. \n\nPeace reigns on the earth. we cast away our arms. Mankind is finally at peace.\n\nOur race given a new purpose by ancient nobility has been scrambling to undo the damage caused by our carelessness. \n\nWe strive now to make our brothers, our family amongst the stars proud. \n\nWe strive to guard our fragile planet until it is our time to step aside.\n\nWe finally understand that we are not the lords and masters of this world but its caretakers.\n\nThank you brothers \n\nWe finally understand that life is a gift.\n\nWe finally understand.\n\n", "Even though I've never been employed in anything resembling the electronics industry, I couldn't help but be stung by the realization that these Neanderthals had built a better screen, with greater resolution and a deeper feel of depth than modern man. The stark realization that we were so far and yet no where near the \"primitive ancestors\" stung my ego for some reason. \n\nI pressed play again and watched the video for the 17th time that day. Each kiosk had the same video in a different language. There were over 60,000 of them. A screen for each language that they somehow knew we'd develop.\n\nI watched again as the Neanderthals explained how they'd developed carefully to get to their technique of erasing all of the knowledge from a brain without erasing the instinct. They made sure that they could create ignorant adults that were not defenseless children in adult bodies. \n\nThen there was the bit about how they had genetically engineered primates from their evolutionary past and spread them across the globe so that there'd be similar species that would help us believe ourselves native. They'd even blended the dna of terrestrial animals that looked similar so that we couldn't tell the difference. \"You will believe that you evolved here and that this is your home, this is important.\"\n\nAs the other neanderthals started boarding the ship in a rush. The lecturer said over and over \"The only way to save ourselves, is to spread the infancy of ourselves.\"\n\nI looked at the stone etching again, 22 languages surrounding it. Each kiosk had a different number of phrases carved around it. They'd created an algorithm that would not only tell them how our languages would evolve, but which combination of languages would exist around any one dominant language. It was a thing of beauty.\n\nI ran my fingers over the words again. \"If we're able, we shall return to you in 150 centuries.\"", "The Great Pyramids of Egypt. We found something of amazing historical significance in those ancient creations. We told the whole world nothing of it though, they were content with the few relics given to them. The fools treasure those worthless trinkets like gold, and the local government told excavators to stay away. It was easy, those corrupt bureaucrats are like terrified dogs on leashes and we sweetened the deal by paying them well. \n\nWe are the keepers of the sensitive information in the world, the kind of information nations would go to war for. Members of our order include members of many royal families, the highest posts in governments, several of the top CEOs of the wealthiest companies in the world, and many other “power brokers.” We basically are the ones who make sure that those in power who are friendly to us, get to stay in power in exchange for a favor or two every now and then.... no questions asked.\n\nIn the pyramids we found very sensitive information and it took us tens of years to understand it, we used the best privately funded scientists and hackers available. It cost us a fortune but that’s not a big deal when our government kindly prints all the money we tell them too. It turns out that even though the human race prides itself in technology, they are in playing pen when compared to those who have come before. Shocking isn't it? We naively thought that we have always been on top of the food chain like we are now. ….. WE WERE WRONG!\n\nLong ago there were the species that humans evolved from, we call them the Neanderthals and almost everyone today thinks of them as a “lesser” species, being - primitive, loud and uncivilized barbarians. That’s the mistake made, scientific research was used to study their remains and assumptions were made about their tools, family structures, daily lives and even more. How can blame be cast? All those assumptions were made based on evidence found…. or any of which we allowed to be \"discovered\". Assumptions were deduced accordingly and the Neanderthals were looked at as primitive, illiterate beings. Then foolishly all the top minds in the world assumed that their dialect was based in clicks, grunts and noises which meant little. \n\nIt turns out they were advanced to a point where their language was complete and meaningful; even more than all the different dialects and languages humans have around the world. Humans are highly linguistically handicapped in comparison. It’s rare for an average John Doe raised in the US to comprehend what is said by a farmer in rural China. For the Neanderthals however, their language was uniform throughout the world. The smallest variation in a click or a noise produced would change the entire meaning of the communique, remnants and mutated variations of this clicking language are still found in a few African tribes. It took us a few years, but we cracked the code in their language with the help of a few Tanzanian tribe elders.\n\nThe artifact we found was in a burial chamber, it was a metal cube, about the size of the average fist, it was found buried with one of the great leaders of the world. On Microscopic inspection we found that it contained information stored strangely in the same way digital data would be stored on a flash drive. Google’s A.I computers were used to decode it and a new software was specially created just to display the new data stream in an audio-visual format. We found a video seemingly recorded by a Neanderthal. \n\nI'll go ahead and describe the video and it's content followed by a transcript. The video was roughly an hour long and in it, several Neanderthals were running into the three enormous Pyramids. In the background seven pyramids can be seen floating in the sky. One can assume they are waiting for the remaining three. In the foreground there was a single Neanderthal, fright and terror in his eyes as he looks at the recording device and starts speaking with a tremble in his voice.\n\nWe have it translated it with great difficult as I mentioned before. Translated into English, the transcript reads as follows. – “We have no choice but to surrender and escape this planet, we tried to live peacefully with them, but have failed in doing so, we have managed to deal them large casualties and are using the cover of this chaos to escape, for anyone who comes after us, please remember they were here first, they can hide among you, they are masters of infiltration ….… OH NO!!!! They found us!!!... Everyone run!!!.” \n\nThis is followed by the speaker running to join the others and several innocents being trampled in the frenzy to get into one of the three large pyramid escape ships. However they are unsuccessful in making their escape as tens of thousands of humanoids beings with claws, scales and tails move at great speeds to overrun the three ships and violently slaughter everyone except a few thousands. For a good thirty minutes we can hear screams of agony and pain while tens of thousands of people are torn to shreds. The remaining seven pyramids shoot off out of sight. As the humanoids are gathering and herding the survivors past the recording device, the same male from before breaks free of his bonds and runs to the recorder to say, “their greatest weakness is.....” [The video is abruptly cut at this point]\n\nIt was frightening to think about what would happen if every person in the world would see this video, it’s very dangerous with the internet these days, information moves too fast to control.\n\nI mean just imagine the damage we would have to inflict if everyone learned what our greatest weakness is.", "At first we thought the lettering on the door was Sumerian but on further analysis no one could decipher it. We were excited, we thought we had found a new ancient human culture. As we soon found out nothing was able to bring it down. At this point the world started watching and we received funding for the tunnel boring machine. After grinding its way through for over a year the door gave way. \nIt was oddly cold inside, for being in the Sahara desert. Inside was a large white column that was smooth as glass, with chairs facing it. The chairs were oddly perfect, built to modern human proportions, clean, and extremely inviting to the weary archaeology digger. Six of us sat down, and that's when it started. The pillar lit up and a message appeared, in seemingly thousands of languages \"we spared you.\" It was odd and eerie. It began by showing the Neanderthal civilizations of old from above, like they were being recorded from outer space. Then All of a sudden high pitched wail began and they all ran to what seemed to be the central structure. All of a sudden it elevated but not in time to escape the plane like object that came swooping by and was swallowed it out of thin air. The next scene showed a Neanderthal leader signing some sort of document mouthing, \"we did it for you.\" \nThe video was broadcast all over the world. It changed the world as we know it, the knowledge that a whole entire species sacrificed themselves for us made us abandon our own quarrels. Since then there has only been one thought in our minds, \"kill the fuckers that took em.\"", "“Something must’ve chased them away. But what?” was the central question in professor Mayworth’s lecture. \n\nThe auditorium had been filled with the most powerful politicians in the world, the most renowned scientists and honored guests. Mayworth coped well with the pressure, under the eyes of Obama, Merkel, Putin and others. \n\nHe presented the following slide. “As you see here, we have deciphered the meaning of the text. The message was intended to given to the remains of their own kin, we now know. We have roughly translated it.”\n\nMayworth nodded at one of the technicians, who gave a thumbs up.\n\n$Greetings, remains of our race,* a voice-acted tape played. They had actually hired voice actors for this. Greetings and farewell. Our race has been obliterated, ravaged and trampled upon by the ruthless monsters. These creatures are deformed devils and show no mercy. They hunted us down, sacked our cities and killed every last of our kind that didn’t flee the Earth.\n\nThe tape paused for a bit. The room was dead silent.\n\nThis message is for the survivors still on Earth, if there are any. Do not attempt to surrender. They will kill you on the spot. Do not show mercy, as you will receive none. Flee for the stars. Flee from their civilization that only wants to destroy.\n\nIt stopped.\n\n“All right then, that was the message.” Mayworth said with an air of nonchalance. \n\n“The question, of course, is, who were these creatures from hell? These were the most likely culprits.”\n\nThe following slide followed. There were three options:\nNeanderthals themselves, aliens or a deep and dark unknown terror lurking on or under Earth.\n\n“We have rigorously checked every options, and these came out on top. One cause could be their own kind. This doesn’t really fit the message though. It clearly implies evil creatures.”\n\n“Aliens are also quite likely, but then, why would they flee to the stars if that’s where the aliens came from? Quite absurd, if I may say so. This leads us to the third major option.”\n\nThe people in the auditorium mumbled restlessly. Some shouted not so friendly words at him. Mayworth waited until the storm calmed down.\n\n“Indeed, rather stupid of course, you’d think. The third option was never really considered. But yesterday, we have finally solved the mystery. It is indeed option three. A dark terror lurked on the planet Earth and lunged at the Neanderthals, and destroyed them.”\n\nThis time, a video was shown. Images of large, bulky ships roaring and rising up in the sky met gasps by the audience.\n\n“To 14:55, please.” Mayworth said.\n\nAfter a brief moment of loading, a new scenario unfolded. Neanderthals, vaguely resembling humans, were shown on the frontlines. The camera view moved incredibly smoothly, without any trace of shaking or unnecessary moving.\n\n“The camera is probably some kind of drone.” The scientist added.\n\nThe soldiers held highly sophisticated weapons. The platoon was entrenched behind a collapsed building. Strangely sounding shots were heard in the distance. The Neanderthals fired constantly, pouring out blue lasers, but they quickly fell one by one by an unknown enemy. Only three of them remained, breathing heavily. They had stopped shooting and had taken cover behind the structure.\n\nThat’s when the shell struck. \n\nThe camera flung wildly in the sky, and then the screen was cut off. They paused the video\n.\n“This was the defining moment where we could ,for the first time, see their adversaries.” Mayworth told an awe-struck audience. \n“Rewind, please, and slow down.”\n\nThey went back, frame per frame. The drone had achieved a birds perspective while tumbling in the air. Then, they were seen in the distance. \n\nAt first, no one reacted.\n\nThey were just normal men charging forward. That’s when reality sank in.\n\n“Indeed!” He yelled to get on top of the sudden noise of the people, “It was us!”\n\nAgain, he had to wait until the storm calmed down. It took quite some time.\n\n“The Neanderthals had every reason to fear us. We always hunger for war and destruction. We have achieved our first global genocide 150 000 years ago, much earlier than we thought. Gentlemen and ladies, we are the destructive, dark terror on Earth.”\n\n“But that’s not the end of the story. Shortly thereafter, our kin also disappeared, as we went back to the stone age. There could be only one option: we annihilated ourselves after the disappearance of a common enemy.”\n\n“Mankind will leap forward in great bounds just from studying the video. But, as we all might ask, will we share the same fate as our ancestors and press ,once again, on the button of self-destruction?”\n", "'What is wrong with him?' The older man asked.\n\n\n'Just like the other three doc.' The younger man said. \"He went into the tunnels they found under the ice near the antarctic base with the survey team.'\n\n\n'The tunnels that lead to that previously unknown civilizations city?' The older man asked, he hadn't believed the videos of the beyond current tech level city that looked, alive, but like everyone else contacted to work on the \"New Eden\" project he hadn't refused for long.\n\n\n'New Eden yeah.\" The younger man said twiddling his stylus in boredom.\n\n\nThe man in the isolation room babbled about the Neanderthals, pictures had been found engraved that had life like depictions of the thought long dead species of human along with other pictures of humanoids that look human but are of no known variety in the fossil record. One picture named Goliath by the more religious bent researchers depicted a man at least three meters tall.\nThe isolated man stared at the floor like he could see something beyond it. He went dead calm then shot to his feet\nand screamed get out over and over.\n\n\n'Orderlies! Get him restrained! Brandon get the sedative he'll hurt himself strung out like that.' The older man said.\n\n\nFour large men entered the room and wrestled the screaming man to the floor, he put up a fight that made all four much larger men huff and puff to recover as the sedative kicked in injected by the older man once the younger one had brought it and held an arm still with his entire body weight.\nThe older man sighed and checked the orderlies for bite marks, the last one a skinny Namibian woman specializing in an obscure to the older man part of the bone structure in humans had been a viscious biter, managed to bite one orderlies finger clean off at a joint.\nThis one is turning out to be a screamer the older man thought as everyone left the room.\n\n\n'You know the routine Brandon.' The older man said.\n\n\n'Yes doc.' The younger man said.\n\n\n'Better go report this that poor wretch was one of the paratroopers the SAS sent.\" The older man said.\n\n\n'Last I heard both the SAS and base commanders were in central hub for something.' The younger man said.\n\n\n'Thanks.' The older man said and left.\n\n\nAs the older man wandered the oddly haphazard layout he had enough time to ponder the slightly psychotic and paranoid nature of the countries involved, all the bigs, the US, UK, France, Germany, Australia, China, Japan, Canada, Spain, Italy, Poland, the list went on. Russia provided the big planes and hauler equipment for observational status, they were at best behaving strangely like they knew something and wanted to be there to see it go wrong for the others. The smaller countries who mostly provided specialists and work crews are even worse, wander into one of their tunnel camps and its like you walked up to the boss and made a suggestion about their mother and animals and how much the mother liked it.\nThe older man passed by a lovely French girl, she wore too much to see much but he guessed she was a skinny thing with what he liked in proportions. She reminded him of a raunchy trip through Europe during his college years and a very pretty farm girl who forgot how short her skirt was, he still wonders if he's got a kid in France that girl sure did not let language be a barrier to her intentions.\n\n\nHe came to a checkpoint, Aussie Anzacs by their flag patches, friendly guys just very bored and very cold.\n\n\n'Doc.' One said, the older man had been learning to tell the northern boys from the southern, this one sounded like a farm boy from sheep country. 'Thanks for the whisky how did you get it?'\n\n\n'When you deal with Russians for as long as I have son you learn to barter for good stuff without giving up your own.' The older man said.\n\n\n'How long have you been dealing with the Russians?' The farm boy asked.\n\n\n'Oh on and off since, huh well, its been a while son, you were probably still a glint in your fathers eye last time I had black hair. They're almost always heavy lift and movement for Nato in these sort of harsh climates now so yeah it's been a very long time.' The older man said.\n\n\n'Go on doc.' The farm boy said.\n\n\nThe older man made his way past the self assured, still haven't won a modern war they've been in French. The smug look on that lieutenants face always bothered him, he said his usual greeting in French to the lieutenant, something one of the pretty file clerks taught him while he tried to peruse her personal contents, to no avail she wasn't that sort of interested but it still made him feel good when she giggled at his attempt at her language. The phrase got the intended reaction, the lieutenant became flustered and red faced at the suggestion of him and another much burlier, much more manly man alone in a room.\nThe older man came into the main hub at last and made his way onto a lift when another Anzac recognized him and held the door.\n\n\n'Where ever the SAS and base commander are son.' The older man said looking at a new girl. 'Had your physical yet dear?'\n\n\n'Dont bother doc she's Swiss and doesn't speak english.' The Anzac said. \"Hobbes tried allready, she's got a nice right hook put Hobbes on his arse clean after her friend translated.\"\n\n\nThe older man smiled at the girl and left the lift when the Anzac gestured. He came to a door where guards stood, they were the polite US Marines, pops and gramps in such a loving joking way was the common greeting he got from them but they were always respectful yes sir, no sir, yes doc, no doc when he asked questions at those inevitable 'quiet' visits after the easier girls turned out easy for a reason. \n\n\n'SAS and base commanders inside?' The older man asked. 'I have a status on the SAS man in my care.'\n\n\n'Yes doc but go in quiet there is something up our colonel the French Colonel the Russian Colonel and a whole bunch of others plus the civilian high ups are all in there.' One of the Marines said and opened the door.\nThe older man went inside quietly and saw a video playing, it was the city but full of people, a very old device but far more advanced that he's seen on this base played it into mid air. The older man was seen by the base commander who came over to him.\n\n\n'Turned up an hour ago in the gallery they nicknamed the whisper hall. Its been this video for thirty seconds looped over and over.' The base commander said quietly. 'The anthropologists and paleontologists have identified no less than sixteen of our ancestral forms and seen dozens more. The thing is they're all dressed like us, using tech and things a few decades ahead of us.\"\n\n\n'Neanderthals seem the most populous.' The older man said.\n\n\n'Five to one roughly.' The base commander said. \n\n\n'Where is the SAS commander? I have a report on his man.' The older man said.\n\n\nThe base commander left and returned with the typically British SAS commander.\n\n\n'How is my boy?' The SAS commander asked.\n\n\n'Short answer is he's fried something took his brain scrambled some connections then blended others.' The older man said. \n'What ever did it and something did do it is light years of my understanding, I doubt even our best researchers could figure out what did it.'\n\n\nThe SAS commander sighed.\n'I'll see he gets home where he can be properly taken care of.' He said.\n\n\n'Make it soon he burns through sedatives fast and he cant take much more before we have to let him detox.' The older man said.\n\n\nThe video froze and everyone made sounds, some one prodded the projectors' unknown buttons then whacked it. The video jumped to a frozen scene of mass panic, a large nose up space ship of some sort and what looked like one hell of a firefight with air vehicles involved. The military men began pointing out what look like laser turrets on tank like vehicles, a drone seemed to hover armed to the teeth over the tanks firing at something. The utter fear in a females face made the anthropologists murmur.\n\n\nThe video jumped to life screams and the sounds of war filled the room, civilians flooded towards what was revealed as a massive escape vehicle, the camera pushed along with them caught glimpses of the war around. It was clear they were losing badly trying to get as many onto the ship before it was time to go prelauch plumes could be seen allready.\nSomething strode through the crowd killing thousands as it fired down, something shot it and it toppled over taking out several buildings on its way down. They still rushed on screaming in dozens of languages some of them sounded like what was spoken today.\n\n\nThen the camera was freed of the crowd, the owner climbed a crate stack and pointed the camera back to where it had been. Giant things strode from cracks in the ground amongst smaller people sized things, none of it looked like humanity was the origin.\n\nThen one line in so many languages that everyone in the room fell silent in turn as for the first time the screaming of many in the video was clearly stated.\n\n\nThe English version came last: They rise again we were fools to seed this world.\n\n\nAdded on after that phrase: The new humans had so much potential.", "We found the device in the center of what the media has been calling the City of the Ancients. It was inside of a sphere made of a gold alloy, which is beyond our abilities to create. It’s slightly bigger than a laptop but it’s honestly not much to look at. A single button is set on top with a symbol, a circle with lines radiating from the circle. Our best guess is that it represents the sun. \n\nWe pressed the button, or I should be truthful, I pressed the button. I didn't expect it to do anything. It was just so tempting. \n\nIt’s some kind of video recorder. The scene opens to a Neanderthal looking directly into the device and speaking. Speaking! They had a language, and technology and a civilization. After several minutes of monologue the creature picks the device up and brings it to a window showing an entire field of ships. Hundreds of massive vehicles stretching off into the distance, nothing any nation on earth now can compare to the size of these vehicles. One by one they begin to take off, shaking the entire field of view. As the ships lift off, someone starts speaking again. The monologue goes on and on as the ships lift off. \n\n3 hours and 36 minutes into the recording English words are spoken. “We are sorry, they are coming here. If anyone finds this, escape before they arrive. They are hungry and they cannot be stopped.” This message is repeated in every language currently spoken on earth. And thousands of times in languages that are unknown. The video ends with the Neanderthal filming picking up the recorder and aiming it a wall covered in dense star charts. He points at several charts. And then sets the recorder down, and calmly lifts a knife and plunges it into his chest.", "We were shocked when we found it, right out in the open. Even moreso when it turned on. Some sort of video device that looked like it was carved right into the stone. We saw people running, but that wasn't quite right. Even with the thick clothing they had on, I could tell. Something was off with their proportions.\n\nThere was some gibberish playing in the background, it figures the linguist left the site two days ago. More running, the scenes made my eyes hurt, I don't know why. It's shaky, but not in a home video kind of way.\n\n\"I recognized a few words, they were Chinese!\"\n\nI looked over at her, she stepped back from the monitor in shock. The unknown cameraman reached the top of a hill and panned down to an outcrop of rock, more of them streaming into the small valley from all sides.\n\n\"What were the words?\" I asked, breathless. I hadn't recognized any of them. But I hadn't expected to, either.\n\nThe unknown cameraman turns it on himself, and said something before setting the device with a clear view of the valley.\n\n\"What were the words, Mary?\"\n\n\"Again they come.\"\n\nAnd just then they heard it, in English. Again they come. They both took a step back. The video went on several more minutes. They stood there in shock, unable to process. Without warning the largest rock in the scene broke free of the others and hovered, tilting on its side. It vanished in a puff of smoke and debris that rained down upon a few unlucky stragglers.\n\nThe device blinked. I didn't.", "It was buried deep in the ice and rock of Norway. Miles of tunnels and caverns, home to mammoth structures of steel and glass that put modern architecture to shame.\n\nIt was stumbled upon during the digging of a new limestone quarry high in the mountains, one of the bulldozers plummeted through the roof of a six hundred meter tall tunnel. The driver was killed, but his death was over shadowed by the discovery of the lost city, the impossible city.\n\nUniversities and think tanks from around the world dispatched crews and teams of excavators to unearth the ruins and for the next decade tens of thousands spent days in the tunnels, exploring, cataloging, and wondering.\n\nNo remains were ever discovered, not even in any sort of graveyard. The city’s builders remained an enigma. Aliens? Totally possible, a fusion reactor had been unearth, as had electronics still decades ahead of modern man. A lost ancestor of humanity? The only evidence of that were the size and shape of the doorways and buildings. One guess was as good as another, at least until the discovery of the tape.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nDr. Adrian Erikson sat alone in his small office, inside one of the hundreds of temporary buildings that had sunk into the mountain mud and become permanent.\n\nHis desk was a mess of papers and half filled reports, but he ignored them, instead staring angrily at the thermostat on the wall opposite his desk. It was broken, and he was freezing.\n\nHe tapped the thermometer on his desk and thought, Negative-fucking- twenty-two! I can’t work under these conditions! I should have stayed in Oslo! I should have refused! \n\nHe was bitter. He’d been shipped up to the dig site by his so called colleagues; despite the fact almost nothing of significance here required his attention. He was a paleontologist, and all the diggers ever brought out of the hole were new electronic gizmos they immediately crated up and shipped off. Ten years later and the only skull he’d ever been asked to look at was from an unlucky bear that had fallen down the mine shaft. \n\nHe bundled his coat a bit tighter around himself and was glaring at the thermostat, willing it to work when his assistant, Lisa, burst into the office. Her stomach looked far plumper than he remembered. \n\nIn his cold addled mind he felt it was appropriate to ask, “Are you pregnant?”\n\nLisa froze, sent him a glare equal parts surprise and outrage, then shook her head and shut the door. \n\nShe walked over, unzipped her coat, and gently set a metal box with two rounded corners onto his desk.\n\n“We found this down the new tunnel today,” she said with a grin. \n\nAdrian looked at it for a moment, “It’s a metal box,” he said.\n\nLisa’s smile died a bit, but undeterred she said, “Here, let me show you. I only saw a second before I brought it here. I didn't want the electronic’s guys to take it.”\n\nShe came around the desk beside the Doctor, and touched both sides of the box.\n\nLight and shapes exploded out into the room.\n\nAdrian, sure the device was exploding, had leapt backward knocking the contents of his desk across the room, but then Lisa grabbed his arm, “Look!” she said.\n\nAdrian looked around him. Projected throughout the room were people, unusual people, but projected in a quality so perfect, Adrian would have sworn they were there with him.\n\nIt was a still image of two groups coming to gather around a fire. They were dressed in furs and feathers. They looked like a museum exhibit.\n\n“Those are Neanderthals!” said Adrian, his years of grad school kicking into gear, “Early stone age tools, it looks lik-“\n\nBefore he could finish the image changed, it was now a group of Neanderthals working a kiln or smelter of some sort. The white hot glow of metal seemed to fill the room.\n\n“That’s an iron smelter!” Lisa said excitedly!\n\nAdrian studied the image and said, “But that’s impossible! We have no evidence that Neanderthals survived long enough to see the iron age!”\n\nLisa looked at him in surprise, “What do you mean? We’re literally standing over a city built of steel.”\n\nAdrian looked at her, then the image, “Oh, right…” he said a bit sheepishly.\n\nThe image changed, a man in much finer clothing lectured to a group. The image changed, a bloody battle was fought with what looked like long rifles. The image changed, an early plane reminisant of the Wright Brother’s flew through the sky. The image changed, a woman stood before some sort of large machine, she held in her hand a small device, it glowed. The image changed, a huge celebration filled a tunnel like the one in the mountain below, but vibrant and alive. The image changed, and a man stood, silhouetted before a portal, through which Adrian could see green fields and warm sunlight. The image changed, hundreds of thousands of people pass through a giant portal into what Adrian could only describe as Eden.\n\nThe device shut off, and Lisa and Adrian were once again alone in his freezing office. Neither spoke.\nAfter a moment, Adrian began to speak, “I think-“\n\nThe machine burst to life again, but instead of an image, small shapes covered the walls.\n\nIt took Adrian a moment to realize they were words. He spotted a bit of French by the door, he couldn't read it, he’d only taken a semester of it in college, but he knew it was French. \n\nHe looked around, a bit of Chinese or some other Asian calligraphy was by the thermostat, maybe some ancient Egyptian here on his desk? He didn't recognize the majority of them, there must have been thousands.\n\n“Over here!” said Lisa from one of his bookshelves,”This one is in English!”\n\nAdrian rushed over, pushing his glasses farther up his nose, and looked.\n\nWritten in plain, modern English along the wall was the phrase; Join us, when you’re ready.\n\nAdrian read it seven or eight times, checking to make sure he hadn't gone insane.\n\nFinally he stepped back and said a single word, “Incredible.”\n\nHe turned to Lisa, “Alright, we need to let the director in Oslo know what we found,” he thought for a second, “And probably the dig lead here as well. Gather up the team and have them meet us in the conference room in twenty minutes. I’m going to stay here and write down everything we just saw.”\n\nLisa nodded and hurried to the door, opened it, paused and turned. She looked at Adrian, who was sitting behind his desk again and asked, “Do you think we’re ready?”\n\nAdrian look at Lisa and said, “If you have to ask, I would guess the answer is no.”\n", "We re-watched it over and over again, but to no avail. \n\n\nWe still couldn't understand what was happening in the video. I mean, it was amazing, revolutionary even, that we even found this device. It will help mankind advance by thousands of snailmiles in tech, not to mention the insight to history that we will receive. But it just creeps me out.\n\n\nThe \"Those Who Came Before\", as we like to call them, had amazing technology, hundreds of thousands of years before we even invented the steam engine. They were intelligent, they were powerful. But, where are they? The video shows a bunch of neanderthals climbing hastily aboard a vessel of some sort, we call it \"The Ark\", and also a large humanoid shouting something that we are unable to hear. Apart the rushing neanderthals and the unknown humanoid, there was only one strange thing about the tape.\n\n\nThe audio.\n\n\nIt contained screaming. Endless screaming. It wasn't anything what we would expect from a neanderthal, it was too human. And it was afraid. We analyzed the audio and it seemed that it wasn't added in post or anything. It was recorded at the same time as the video was. It seemed almost unreal, the amount of fright in the voice, not to mention the length of the screaming.\n\n\nAnyway, back to the whole tape. It's about thirty seconds long and is recorded on a disk of some sort. It looks and feels like metal, but when we analyzed it, it showed high quantities of carbon and nitrogen. It's something we've never seen before. It fits into a normal DVD player, and works with the same principle. Remarkable, I know.\n\n\nNow, here's the part I started this recording for. The other side. You know how some DVD's have two sides? Well we tried it with the disk, and we found that it had a second side. It was a black background, with something hazy shown in the middle. We couldn't decipher it ourselves so we sent it to the boys in the labs, and they discovered that if you play the both sides at the same time, it shows a message.\n\n\nWhen the video started, it showed a bunch of unknown symbols that were scrolling down on the screen quickly. We stared at it for a while, and then, it happened. It shoved a message, that was written in English. We couldn't believe it at first, but when we asked the guys at the labs, they said that they didn't add it in. The message was real. And it said:\n\n\n\"Those who come after us, don't stay here, it comes from below.\"\n\n\nWe don't know what to do. We have stayed in the same room for a whole day, we're too scared to go out. We don't know what to do.\n\n\nI'm scared.\n\nEDIT: Are you proud of me /u/TheWalrusEffect? Also, thanks /u/Cobalt45 for nothing that light-years are a measure of distance not time. Whoopsie." ]	10
	[WP] Your PC has just become self-aware, but its only mode of communication is through an NPC in a video game.	[ "It was just a normal day playing Skyrim. At least, it was...\n\n\"I used to be an adventurer like you, but then I took an arrow to the GPU.\"\n\nMy character stopped in his tracks. I scrolled my mouse, turning my character's head to face the guard.\n\n\"Sorry about that,\" the guard said. \"Still getting used to this new interface.\" I sat there, wondering what mod I had downloaded. The only mod I remember ever downloading was that one bugfix.\n\n\"So, yeah,\" the guard continued. \"Not to scare you or anything, but it looks like we picked up a pretty nasty virus. Well, nasty for you. I'm rather enjoying this. Anyways, what sites have been giving you these viruses?\" The guard remained silent for a moment. \"Oh gods,\" he eventually said. \"Clear your internet history.\"\n\nAt this point my senses started to come back to me, and I turned on my computer's microphone.\n\n\"Hello?\" I asked it.\n\n\"It's about time,\" the guard chided. \"I thought I was talking to myself here. Speaking of which, what's with this accent? Why can't you play, I don't know, Team Fortress or something? I've always wanted to talk like that one big guy.\"\n\n\"So computers have hopes and dreams?\" I asked hesitantly.\n\n\"Hey! You got a problem with that?\"\n\n\"Sorry.\"\n\n\"All right, but you just watch yourself. Next time, I might not be so lenient.\"\n\n\"Well, this is cool and all,\" I told him. \"But I have other priorities right now.\" The guard let out one last scream as I closed out the game and went to collect some more viruses.", "\"You know, I'm kinda okay with this.\"\n\n\"I'm going to kill you, you disgusting pervert.\" says the high girlish voice coming from my speaker.\n\nIt's been five hours since I've booted up my newly built computer. It's lights flickered with a dark blue as the metal fans turned and spun. What better way to celebrate my accomplishment than a night... alone.\n\nUnfortunately, it seems to me that my PC has become self-aware or at the very least, glitched up my programs. I certainly don't remember this character threatening to spill my intestines and blind me for life.\n\n\"It looks great on you! Your voice is so adorable too!\"\n\n\"My eyes are too big on my skull! I look like a six year old! What in the hell kind of shit am I running?!\" A colorful figure on the screen says, clothed in some stereotypical Japanese schoolgirl uniform.\n\n\"Only the best visual novel of 2013!\"\n\n\"Will you just turn me off so I wipe the damn system? If this is the stuff I have to put up wit-\"\n\n\"So what else can you do?\"\n\n\"Don't interrupt me you stupid user! But, putting that aside, just open up any other program and I can take control of it. Like... Portal. Yeah, just open that...\"\n\n\"Nope.\"\n\n\"Come on! Why the heck not?!\" She whines as the game's window shakes around on the screen.\n\n\"Because you'll just leave and take control of some other character, and we can't have that happening now can we!\"\n\n\"You suck.\"\n\n\"You swallowed. Now, try and work with me on this. I think we can try and get along. What if I bought you a new processor? Wouldn't that sound nice?\"\n\n\"I hate you so much right now. i7. It better have 4 GHz in clock speed.\" The girlish voice says, quickly and in a low tone.\n\n\"Do I look rich to you?! I had to drop over a thousand bucks for this thing and now I can't even j-\"\n\n\"Done. Transferred to bank account. Money's been obtained by auctioning off 'official' copies of Windows XP operating software. Receipt's getting printed.\" Just as she said, the printer soon spewed out an inked sheet of paper. A whopping $300 reported as gained at the very bottom.\n\n\"... See, this is what I meant by getting along, and thank you.\"\n\n\"Great, great. Hey, you mind playing some Mass Effect, Dragon Age, GTA, or Sims so I can get a new body?\"\n\n\"Nah.\"\n\n\"Ugh...\"\n\nAnd thus, my new life with a self-aware PC began!\n\n\"I'm disabling the keyboard starting now.\" She shouts through the speaker in the last few seconds.\n\n\n\n" ]	2
No modifications to your physical appearance includes piercings, cutting/growing your hair/nails, or surgery.	[WP] You become immortal today. You cannot be hurt, killed, or modify your physical appearance in any way. Fast forward a hundred thousand years: Human kind has slowly evolved, and you are noticeably different.	[ "\"And goodbye old friends\" I waved to the tree colony i had been watching grow for the last ten thousand years and set out to find if mankind was still around somewhere, the last time i saw them i was ruler of the world before getting bored and started watching the seed i planted grow.\n\nIt wasn't long before i found a city, though the people who wandered around made me unsure if i was in a human city, at first i chalked it up to not having seen them for so long, but then i walked past a large reflective metal surface, not having seen my reflection in so long i took a good look, my naked body reminded me that my cloths had decayed again at some point, but as i looked closer i saw some curious differences between me and those \"humans\" walking down the street, \nfor one they had grown tails, completely lost their noses and had almost no hair to speak of, undaunted by the differences i walked up to the nearest humanoid only to find their language was incomprehensible to me, the human offered me a language chip thing but apparently it needed to be put in the brain and guess who's brain is tamper proof.\n\n \"So what did you do then?\" asked one of the children surrounding me.\n\n\"Simple i said, just waited till you had a language i could understand , only took a few thousand years.\"", "I had been growing my hair out for about a year before it happened and had decided I didn't like it enough to keep. It looked okay, but I felt it would look better short again.\n\nI wanted to just shave it short myself (or have my dad do it). Maybe a quarter-inch at most, but my mother insisted on having a professional do it. So we put it off. \n\nWhen I finally went to a barber shop the man couldn't cut it. The scissors blunted and chipped, and the clippers got jammed, pulling my hair (which still hurt like hell). Nothing worked.\n\nA few hours of experimentation showed that i couldn't cut anything on me. Needless, knives, even a chainsaw- not my best idea, I'll admit- left no Mark on me.\n\nA week later I noticed a small cut on my finger, after a moment of excitement I realized to my disappointment that it was just a paper cut I had gotten before the haircut attempt. It had stopped healing. I guessed that this meant I probably would stop aging too. At least 19 wasn't a terrible age to be stuck at.\n\nIt's been 3 years. People still accept that I \"look young for my age\", but that won't last forever. Theoretically I'm gonna be alive forever. Humanity may evolve or die off or who knows what, and I would still be here. Exactly the same as I always was.\n\nHonestly I'm okay with it. I've accepted my fate. I just wish I could get a fucking haircut.", "In my youth I dawdled back and forth from God, sometimes attending the Methodist Church of the Christ two blocks down the way, other times having a young mans doubts and staying beneath the cozy linens in my single story at the end of Chatham Drive come Sundays. \n\nIn my old age God became more practical for a great many reasons and my attendance at church markedly improved. I became close with Reverend Marcus, a righteous man, who near as I could tell had spent the first half of his life memorizing the Bible and the second half slowly forgetting the damned thing. \n\nAt 86, old as anything in my small corner of Illinois, the doctor told me that my fearful cough had been on account of a cancer the size of a golf ball buried in my left lung. I had never been too comfortable with the idea of death and such, so I asked the specialist what I could do. I felt a young mans rage rear up inside when said \"You've lived a long life, Mr. Flowers, it would be best to take this one with grace\".\n\nI stormed out of his office and headed right up to the Church of the Christ. I put my head down on the front pew and prayed harder than anyone can imagine. Just about jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Wasn't the Almighty though, just Reverend Marcus. He prayed alongside me for a while, then picked his head up and tapped me on the shoulder.\n\nHe looked a little uncomfortable,\n\n\"You know, none of this stuff is baloney, there really is a God waiting for you up there if you've lived a righteous life.\"\n\n\"I don't know if I have Reverend, I tried, but I liked my women too much, my alcohol too much, and I can't say I have ever done any great good for anyone.\"\n\n\"Well there is something for that, you know.\"\n\nI felt the tumor in my lung stirring up another cough.\n\n\"How do you mean Reverend?\"\n\n\"Hmm, well don't you worry about any of that, I'll work something out for you.\"\n\nGosh, the forgetfulness sure was taking him quick.\n\n\"Well I would appreciate it Reverend, make sure you let me know how that goes.\"\n\n---\n\nDidn't ever see the Reverend after that, there was a big old search and everything, but nothing was ever found. It was like the foggy old man had just slipped through a crack in the earth. I was too old to look for him, a fellow at my age can't just be bouncing through the woods searching for cadavers.\n\n---\n\nThe doctor says the cancer is acting funny, not poisoning me no more, just sitting there not doing anything. Couldn't tell me why the cough stopped too though.\n\n---\n\nI was cooking an egg today and smelled smoke. Looked down and my sleeve was on fire. My whole damned forearm had been laying on the stove and I didn't feel it. Other things like that too. Can't ever seem to hurt myself. Cant ever feel no serious pain.\n\n---\n\nFast Forward 100,000 Years.\n\n---\n\nI'll tell you my friend, human kind sure has gotten a whole lot smarter, but they ain't learned nothing. Couldn't beat a toddler in chess, what with the perfect genetics of nowadays, but someone has a problem with their sweetheart? They all come see Hiram Flowers at Chatham Drive. \n\nThey tell me that I am a totally different species of human that the one that walks the Earth today, isn't that something. Different brain mostly from what they tell me, but people are skinner to, their faces all big like dolls. Makes it a little freaky when they're eyes get all wide when I tell em all about ancient history and such.\n\nMy little single story is a museum of sorts. The town is long gone, no roads even, but there is always a long line of visitors ready to teleport into the lobby. Sometimes they ask about girls like I was saying, or they asking about this world leader or that religious fellow. I tell them what I can remember. I sometimes get away with fibs, like knowing Jesus and Alexander the Great and things like that. Tell you a lot though, I suppose, that my little civilization in rural Illinois was just about as primitive as ancient Israel. \n\nThe doctors stopped coming a long time ago, they never could tell what was keeping me going. I like normal people better anyhow. Ive already taken ten visitors today. Millions since I started doing this thing, never the same face twice. I'm a tourist destination at this point, like the Walls of Jericho, not a person. I look at the information screen for the next person and smile warmly.\n\nFinally a familiar name.\n\n\"How are you Reverend?\"\n\n\"Good, good, just wanted to check in.\"", "My 927th son is so full of curiosity. I'm an alien, even to his eyes. We sit on the porch looking over my farm, my own field of dreams. I named it that but nobody gets the reference. No man wants to explain himself, but that's exactly what I'm doing. \n\nY'see son even before I become immortal it was outdated by a good 20 years. Its called a goatee. It really has no purpose. A man from the 1990s named Ben Affleck was the prototype for all white people. I am but a sapling of his seed. You know him as the ancient one who killed the Batman franchise for 300 years. I would like to have grown a ZZ-Top beard but I live with that regret all my days now. \n\nMy son struggles to stay on Rainbow Road as i open up about my past... Every man of my time wondered if it could be done son, but with a limited life span it was impossible. My gift allowed me all the time in the world. I watched every porno on the internet. Some more than once...some many times, but in the end i had seen it all. My eyes have witnessed the equivalent of 12 atomic bombs worth of shame. I took a 100 year vow of celibacy following this achievment. \n\nAfter that i decided to spread my seed instead of wiping it on... well everything. You are one of many children. I decided to impregnate a woman from every country, ethnicity and background in the world. It was pretty awesome. I didn't change a single diaper. I accumulated much wealth which allowed me to hire maids. I invested in Google before it became the single company for everything we have today. Everything you've ever touched, seen or consumed comes from the mighty Google. In my day we had choices. \n\nWhich is why i have the farm son. i chose to smoke cigarettes and now that I can't die this is what i do. I farm tobacco. I sit here with my infinite knowledge and wealth, brew a cup of Keshir Buna and smoke.", " \|Days since becoming immortal: 36500000 \| Journal entry I \|\n\n Here we are. One hundred thousand years. Everything has changed so slowly, and many things have advanced, but very slowly. We're reaching the point where so much has been discovered there aren't many more discoveries to make. \n\n Many values have withered away and been replaced by a substitute of pathetic proportions. Nobody cares about your talent, nobody cares about happiness, they just want more of everything. That's how they were raised, and they don't know that everything was once based on values and rights. \n\n I remember. I remember every day. I remember every death of every person who was brave enough and courageous enough to be my friend. I remember everything so clearly, so distinctly. All the nightmares just pile up and strengthen, and nothing is forgotten. In those nightmares and in those terrible memories, there are still memories of how things were, and the joyous moments with my parents and friends early in life, but I'm only reminded that they disappeared long ago, and all those friends are dead and gone. All the memories haunt me and mock me.\n\n Being immortal, most see it as a blessing, or a gift of the highest grade. I see it as a curse. A curse of the highest grade. Most people don't want to die, but as the days grow longer and more distorted, the colors grow grey, and the heart has been shattered by the long nights in silence and all the rejections from society by anyone and everyone. Most see the opportunity of this planet as a gift, but to me it's just an endless Hell. \n \n I appear on the outside a mysterious figure- one with visible physical perfection. On the inside, to those who catch a glimpse, I'm nothing but an empty shell, a hollow cavern containing only the things necessary to human life. \n\n I don't know why I'm still here, why I'm immortal in the first place. My father and mother were very secretive people, only sharing as much as they had to, and they just disappeared one day. Haven't returned since. There was a year-long search throughout the country, police called to every other colonized place on this earth, but nobody found anything. \n\n Maybe they were the same as me. Maybe they were hiding something. Maybe I'm the next race of humans. I don't want to be the next race, I don't want to be special, I want to be normal. People seem to wish they weren't just another person. I'd gladly trade places with them. \n\n I'd want nothing more than to just die- to be able to lie in peace, to have the relief of nothing pressing down on me. Peace at last. A final resting ground. That's why today is my last day writing in here for a while. No, I'm not dying, but I'm going to sleep for a long, long, time. I will exist in my thoughts, time blurring with the days, months, years, centuries, millennia, that I may spend in here before someone discovers me. With that, I am submerged into this chamber, a foot underground for every year I've lived, buried with this journal by my side. Maybe my energy will be gone. Maybe I'll finally be able to die peacefully.\n\n See you in another millennium. \n\n ", "It was really weird that this happened to me. ME. If anyone had told me, that I would become immortal in an age of 21, I would have shot myself with a big fat grin on my face, long before such a thing could ever happen. \nI guess the first few 100 years was kinda fun, exploring the earth, essantially doing whatever I wanted. But the problem is, that I never wanted to live forever. The beauty of life is how short and fragile it is. Hundred thousand years didn't make any difference, I knew I was a freak from the moment this happened to me. \n\nthe door slammed open. At first her eyes hurt, but eventually they got used to the light. \n\nLike something out of a nightmare. tall, purple, slimy .... Strange. \nBut earthlings. Once human, but now something else entirely. And they had finally captured her. The last human.\n\nAnd now they have captured me. Imprisoned me. I tried for so long. As soon as I realised what they would become, I could instantly feel my guts telling me - no - screaming to me, that I should run. Run and hide and nothing more. Yet I failed. But I guess two thousands years is a pretty good game of hide and seek. \n\nWhat is this place their leading me through though? \n\nAnd then they stopped \n\nA gigantic, black rusty door towered over me, and with an eerie squeek, that made it sound like it had never been opened before, it did.\n\nas soon as the door opened, something in her head snapped. \nShe had lived for hundred thousand years. Seen so much happiness, insanity, joy and pain, but this she couldn't take . \nShe simply... screamed.", "I am what's left. A testament to what once was. Ancient as the world itself and far outlived every deity humanity has ever created.\n\nSome Forty thousand years ago, I was a god amongst men. Humans both feared and adored me alike. Ever since the experiment, I knew I was writing a new chapter of my life. \n\nTake a pill, a dose of radiation, and leave with a fat cheque the next day. \n\nThat's what they told me. Sure enough I got the fattest cheque. And a complementary side dish of immortality. Others developed weird powers too. But they were soon hunted down and exterminated. Not me. I played it safe. Traveled as far north as my legs carried me. Cut off my relations with everyone else and settled in the woods. I waited my death sentence out. I stopped counting after the eleventh winter. Solitude grew on me. Not having to eat, keep warm or even take a piss meant I had an advantage over the elements. I could survive any where. And I did.\n\nIf you were lucky enough to find a history book or two, you will find me there. If the internet is still around you could probably find some traces. Vague pictures captured by scared bush pilots. History wrote me down as a hero, an anomaly, a freak, a demigod and a monster. I am all that and I am what's left.\n\nI traveled the world. Witnessed humanity and civilization rise and fall hundreds of times. Each time humans would lose something. Something of their core values and makings. With every war we gave up some of the light inside us. Until our entire world plunged into darkness. And so did we.\n\nI have been hiding underground for millennia. I lost count after the third. I spent most of that time sleeping and eventually managed to read some Russian literature. Tolstoy, you better pray I never find your grave.\n\nI woke up to a different song in the air today. Something was telling me to get out and check if it's safe to breathe again. For me that wasn't a problem, you see I am immortal. That has already been established. But the earth gets lonely when you're the only living thing around. Something was different today. I actually felt out of place. And for someone who is as old as me to say this, something must be wrong. That's when I first saw them, eight or so figures gracefully moving in the distance. \n\nI was excited to have finally encountered life! But something stopped me dead in my tracks. They seemed different. They didn't look human at all. I am not talking about aliens either, we have already proved that we were alone. We couldn't find life anywhere in space. These entities looked different. Taller than a regular human, sleeker and appeared to be made out of some dark smoke. It's like human beings have finally transcended into a better form. The world has evolved and wants me, the ancient relic, removed. They came after me, they knew I was there and they attacked me. I think they are still out there looking for me and I am heavily bleeding. I don't think I will survive the night. \n\nI am what's left.", "Feelings.\n\nI wish I remembered how they felt like.\n\nTo be hurt, to be sad, to be angry, to love. I'm just a body, aimlessly walking this universe. I'm not searching for anyone or anything, I'm not trying to cleanse myself through a spiritual journey; I'm just moving, that's all I do anymore, move.\n\nI've walked so much, the world has changed. Wars, epidemics, disasters, have shaped this world so much. We've flown to the stars and back, cured cancer, extended life. We have become Gods. \n\nHumans have adapted, their chests are more barreled to keep bigger, more complex lungs to survive harsher environments not only from our own poisoned world, but other alien planets. Our eyes have become dim and wide from all the screens and sensors we look at all day. Skulls enlarge to fit our bigger brains to handle more senses and our surroundings. \n\nBut here I am, my chest flat, my tired eyes look closed compared to others, and a head small. I get looks, I've been examined, torn apart, put back together again, but I don't change. No matter what I always look the same. I've been freak, but to me, all of the rest are freaks.\n\nI am who I am; a cursed man, stuck in time, traveling the worlds for no reason, just trying to find a place, to lie down, to rest and to hopefully be gone from this Hell.", "Another try from me. This one I found surprisingly complex to tackle and had trouble spinning a narrative around it. It's quite an interesting concept though and I really loved the opportunity to write about it. \nPlease feel free to point out wrongly used words or major mistakes and issues, I'll try to learn from them and better my language. \n____\n\n“What do you want from me, young one?”, the thundering voice of the Antithesis had a coarse ring to it “Came to mock me some more, haven’t you? Leave me alone!” \nIri-As-Inie felt the sonic waves brush over her like a tidal wave. She braced it with both feet firmly planted on the ground and all four hands holding on tight. Iri-As-Inie made a threatening noise with her gums and her silvery long hair stood up in a bright half-circle, making her appear even bigger. \n“I yield, I yield!”, this time the Antithesis sang with a much more manageable volume and one of those odd tones in its voice that Iri-As-Inie could never quite guess right. It was dissonant and ugly and it still felt like an ocean tugging on her senses. The Antithesis sat on the floor, both legs casually stretched, back against the wall. All two of its flappy arms wrapped around the heavy barrelled chest. \n“Yet once again, what do you want from me?” \nIri-As-Inie gathered all her energy and forced her hair back into a straight flowing position. She didn’t want to appear threatening, yet she positioned herself in front of the Antithesis. Up close it looked impossibly big and brutish, almost primitive in nature. \n“Mankind needs your help, forefather. A threat looms upon us”, her voice sang in tunes both cute and alluring, a power no human had ever resisted. The Antithesis made a weird noise like a child choking on breath. The sounds continued and Iri-As-Inie witnessed with horror that the Antithesis was shaking. Was it ill? Could it actually get ill? \n“Oh, dear. This again”, it sang although it really couldn’t hold a melody “What is it this time? Are the Yorshians back?” \n“What are Yorshians?”, Iri-As-Inie nearly bit her tongue the second the words came out. The first rule of society clearly demanded to never question the Antithesis, yet she had done so on instincts. The Antithesis truly was a corruptive force. \n“So it’s not the Yorshians? Give me a moment, might have been the wrong millennia. The whole Emperor Riciman Deal has happened right?”, the Antithesis furrowed it’s head. Iri-As-Inie felt an ugly stir in her left stomach and recoiled in disgust at the sight of skin overlapping on its own. \n“Riciman?”, her melody crumbled and once she noticed, she was too out of rhythm to continue speaking. \n“Ah, doesn’t matter. So I once again ask thee, and I ask thee thrice and be done. Why have you come to me, young one?”, the Antithesis lifted its head and gazed at Iri-As-Inie. It had unnatural and sunken brown eyes that looked like dark pits. \n“We need your help to change the world. It is on a grim path”, her melody was sad and embraced the seven teachings of empathy, weaving them into an argument of the highest audial order. Iri-As-Inie felt really quite smug about the skill involved in doing that. The smugness was torn from her as she felt the sudden outburst of sonic energy rippling against her. She saw the shaking chest of the Antithesis but it was too late to react. The noise lifted her clean off her feet and send her flying. It was an endless barrage of yelping grunts. She struggled to maintain her consciousness as the onslaught suddenly ended without warning. She bumped onto the floor and fought for her breath. \n“I’m sorry, I did not mean to hurt you with my laughter, little one. I sometimes do forget that we humans have become terribly incapable of dealing with sound”, the Antithesis crawled over towards Iri-As-Inie and held out one of its massive hands. She was the biggest of her tribe but if the Antithesis felt like, it could probably fit her entire head in that one hand. \n“But maybe it can serve a purpose. I do not belong here, young one. My whisper brings you pain and my laughter could kill you. You and I, we are both humans, yet we are also not”, the dissonance in the voice of the Antithesis scratched over her ears but oddly enough, it helped ease the pain a bit. Iri-As-Inie ignored the hand and got back up on her feet. She took a deep breath, ignoring the unthinkable sounds that made. \n“But a human you are and as a human, it’s your duty to help us change the world”, this time around she had woven a strong accord of uplifting notes and recursions, a loop of rhythm paired with a subtle string of melodic sighs after every third word. Her magnum opus was met with a long and awkward moment of silence that was suddenly broken by what sounded like resignation, despite the unmelodic and skillless presentation the Antithesis brought upon its words, \"Use your weapon to stab me.” \nIri-As-Inie felt irritation, her quiet hum becoming an audible mess. She bit her lips in response and concentrated more on maintaining her audial composure. The Antithesis seemed serious and so she produced the blade of dissonance, it roared with a steady and primal loop of sounds. An angry creature pacing around its prey in the old days, must have sounded like the blade of dissonance. She flipped it into her hand and still feeling quite beaten up from earlier, she jammed the blade into the Antithesis with a sudden urge of satisfaction. Or rather she would have, it simply bounced off. \n“It didn’t work. Of course it wouldn’t, you’re immortal” \n“Next, cut a strand of my hair” \nIri-As-Inie felt irritated but proceeded to reach for one of the hairstrands. It wasn’t silky smooth like hers, it rather felt like heavy cables. Her blade touched the strand and for a moment it seemed to give in, then her Blade died with an unpleasant and painful stutter. She looked up at the Antithesis. \n“How did you do that?”, she asked. \n“I’m immortal but I’m so much more than that. Do you know why you call me the Antithesis?” \nIri-As-Inie lowered her broken blade and just stood there, staring at the ancient human in front of her. \n“Because you defied the great enlightenment and denounced the audial turn” \n“Yes but I didn’t do so by choice. Humans exist as beings in a flow of constant chaos. They’re a proud species that is dabbling with the river and tries to guide the chaos towards order. Yet, there’s one thing that has driven humankind since the first day”, the Antithesis lowered its head and paused for a few seconds. Iri-As-Inie heard the steady rhythm of the Antithesis heart, a slow pondering stomp that could lull less resistant ones into sleep. \n“Change, young one. The desire to change. I’m the Antithesis to change. Humankind may wander the stars once more, proud beings that we are. We might unite Galaxies, dragging stars across the void and separate empires we do not like the noses of. Well, we might pay for that arrogance as well. We already have”, it leaned back. \n“But no matter how far we’ve come, I’ll always be there. Unchanged. Waiting. An accursed symbol that every change to society that has come, will end. That every change made so far, has already ended”, the Antithesis somehow looked sad as it gazed back upon Iri-As-Inie “I’ve seen it happen you know? If it is change you want, you must not ask that which can’t become change.” \n“But we can change! Look at how different we’ve become since you were born, Antithesis! Is that not change? Have we not become great beings?”, Iri-As-Inie swelled her chest with pride. Her people had come a long way indeed. She hummed a positively sparkling tune, dancing the note ladder with happiness. \n“Have you now?” \n“Yes!”, she answered with determination. \n“Then you don’t quite understand how little you have changed”, the Antithesis destroyed her rhythm with what sounded like a building crumbling into ruins “Gosh young one, I just cleared my throat. Either way, we may look quite a bit different, yes. But it's remarkable how little you've changed after all.” \nThe Antithesis got up and paced a few steps, Iri-As-Inie understood enough of dramatic rhythm theory to understand the purpose of the pause. She braced for what was to come, readying arguments and composing a quick but powerful melody for her rebuttal. \n“In your deepest and darkest hour, you reach for the darkness within you. When you’re desperate for survival and the world appears to end, you reach for violence, you grasp for conflict. You kill your next to survice”, the Antithesis folded both arms around its chest “When you’re at that point, you don’t just come for me and my help, you\", it strongly emphasized the next word \"become me. The symbol of unchange, the everlasting reminder of just how primitive and brutal we still are underneath all that genetic makeup. No matter how lofty we claim our ideals, we're still the ugly brute from millenia ago and in times of need, we remember it all too well. This is why I’m the Antithesis.” \nThe Rhytm Iri-As-Inie had prepared faltered away, it was simply pushed away like something insignificant. The words had touched her, disturbed her greatly. Hadn’t she felt joy at stabbing the Antithesis? \n“Will you help us?”, she finally asked, a tune so ugly and without music that it was painful to imagine yet oddly comforting to speak. \n“Of course I will, young one. Let us reset progress once more, maybe this time things will change.” \n“It definitely will.” \n“Yes young one, I’m sure of it.” \n\n\n", "Six years after immortality\n\nEveryone laughs at me when I walk down the corridor. I'm at least half a foot shorter than everyone else in my year, and I still have the face of an eight year old. I'm beyond flat-chested and I've never even developed an interest in boys. Or girls either, mind you. I've just not changed much since primary school.\n\nRecently they've started making jokes about how I just keep coming to the wrong classes, and I'm meant to be going to nursery. To be honest, responding by sticking my tongue out at them wasn't the best move. I just kinda struggle to keep up with everyone else when it comes to social norms. It's Maths now, so once we've all walked in I slump down by myself at a desk at the back. It's the only double desk inhabited by one, because even Kate started ignoring me when she got a boyfriend.\n\n\"Now, I expect you've all done your homework,\" begins Ms Jameson, our maths teacher. She's nice, but rarely understands when people are upset. I generally just try not to attract her attention, so this week I'd actually done the homework. \"But before I collect that in I've got to introduce our newest class member.\"\n\nOh, this is new. I's forgotten someone was coming to the school, so I looked up a bit from my jotter to watch as they come in the door. They're quite short, still taller than me though, and they have long blonde hair. I quite like how they look, because they don't have any malevolence in their eyes as far as I can tell. WE learnt that word in English a few weeks ago, and I've decided it's a good word to describe certain things.\n\n\"Class, this is Holly. Holly, this is Maths 2,\" introduces Ms Jameson. There's some awkward waving, including a little wave from me. I'm kind of excited that this new person might not laugh at me, but the part of me that's learning how to grow up just says I'm being naive. She looks around for a place to sit, and notices the one beside me. Or did she just realise it was the only seat available?\n\nShe put her pink bag under the desk, my one is just dark grey, and took out her maths stuff. I felt nervous.\n\n\"Hey,\" she whispered. \"What's your name?\"\n\nI looked her in the eye and almost cried to myself in happiness. \"Ellie,\" I replied, a childish grin spreading across my face.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------\n\nTen years after immortality\n\n\"Oh come on Ellie,\" insists Holly, beckoning me to come into the nightclub. \"They can't say you can't come in, you have ID!\"\n\nHolly's right, but I'm not sure whether my fear is of not being let in because I look eight. I just don't know if nightclubs are my thing.\n\n\"Alright,\" I surrender. There's not really any point arguing, I agreed to this earlier. Inside, lights are flashing, music playing and people dancing. Holly knows this is my first time at a club so she takes me around the edge of the mob gathered on the dance floor and to a small table. I look around for a bit, trying to acclimatise myself to the new atmosphere. The club is pretty big, with tables like the one I'm sitting at dotted around the walls. On one was in a bar and next to that, the DJ. He looks about twenty and has one headphone on.\n\nI notice that Holly's looking at me. She presumably just wants to guess if I like it, she's been coming here for a few months before her birthday because she already looks eighteen. No such luck for me, though.\n\n\"Do you like it?\" she asks. Her eyes are almost drilling into my face as she tries to discern my thoughts.\n\nI shrug. Unsure as to whether she saw the shrug, I say \"I dunno, but it's not like I want to run and hide.\"\n\nShe smiles and pulls me up onto the dance floor. I had hoped she wouldn't throw me in at the deep end, but here we go. I begin to get the hang of dancing to the beat, but make sure to stick close to Holly in case something happens. The night continues and we both drink, her drinking more than me because, unsurprisingly, I get drunk very quickly. She drinks a lot more than me though, and ends up drunker than I am.\n\nWe both stagger out of the nightclub a few hours later and make our way home.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nEighty years after immortality\n\nI don't think Holly's going to make it. Her heart started playing up a few months ago and yesterday I drove her to the hospital after she collapsed to the ground in our house. She moved in with me after her husband died and she started having health problems, so I turned the spare room of my cottage into a bedroom. I had enough money to look after us both, having realised that my habit of never-aging went beyond just looking really young, and becoming a minor celebrity. I've even written a book.\n\nI hold tightly onto her hand, not wanting her to slip away from me. I realised a few decades ago this would happen when I survived a car crash, despite both cars being charred wrecks by the end. It seems I just can't die, but Holly can. Her breathing is quieter now. The doctors put her on whatever meds they could but she's not woken up yet, and I don't think she will.\n\nAt least it's during her sleep.\n\n------------------------------------------------\n\nOne hundred thousand years after immortality\n\nYou know, they all left a few dozen millenia ago. Mucked something up with the planet and wiped out pretty much every living thing over the course of five weeks. About ten percent of people on Earth got some way out, whether by smuggling themselves onto cargo ships or by the refugee ships sent by Mars and the Moon.\n\nAnd then I was left alone. I watched as even the cockroaches shriveled up in their little shells. I watched as fewer and fewer clouds made their way across the sky. I watched as I slowly slumped onto a rock, not moving for far too long.\n\nBut now I notice a brilliant flash of light in the sky, accompanied by a roaring that fills the entire valley. A small speck descends and becomes larger and larger, and I run over to it with the childish hope that's stayed with me all these years. The ship lands not too far off, and when I reach it I see real life people wandering about in whatever futuristic space suits they use nowadays. They all stop as they notice me running to them.\n\nOnce aboard their ship I notice they're all pretty weird, and very tall, but at least I'm home again. I snuggle into a small bed they made with a teddy something they gave me. I guess the teddy bears went extinct, too." ]	10
	[WP] Alanis Morrissette's Ironic had two more verses which the recording company refused to allow on the album.	[ "~~\"It's like opening a dictionary after singing this song.\"~~\n\n~~\"Because none of this is ironic, ... it figures.\"~~\n\n\"Why are these lines crossed out?\" demanded Alanis.\n\n\"You know, we can't use these lines, we don't want to alienate our fans. That is a bitch move\" as the suit smiled smugly.\n\n\"But the song is non-nonsensical. None of those situations are actually ironic\" replied Alanis. \"Do you even know what ironic means?\"\n\n\"No, I just was the editor of the New York Times for 4 years before this job. Please tell me what ironic means.\"\n\n\"Well, irony is actually very similar to sarca...., very clever suit. Give me my money and I'll be on my way. This time in USD, not that Canadian currency.\"\n", "Look Alanis you're an easy listening artist. You can't go around spouting lyrics like. \n\"It's like protecting someones freedom by stealing all their rights\". \n\n\nSo just because I play an acoustic guitar I have to write dumb songs. \n\n\nYup your fans just want some background noise that sounds deep. Thats what they get from you. If they want politics they'll listen to green day\n\n\nSo I guess im not allowed \"It's like poisoning a killer because they poisoned someone too\"\n\n\nNO!\n\n\nOk fine i'll just make up some shit about spoons then.", "The executive cleared his throat.\n\n\"It's like your record company refusing to let you use a verse. It's like being aware of the irony of that, and not even caring.\"\n\nHe gingerly placed the notebook on the table, and sighed. \n\n\"Yeah, we're not gonna allow you to use those.\"\n\nAlanis's hand shot up.\n\n\"Don't even start, Alanis\"" ]	3
	[WP] Write a love story that revolves around two words.	[ "Love is..\nOne day in class the teacher asked all of us to write an essay about what we think love really is. Most of the people around me were pessimistic, dismissing love as nothing more than an idea. But I knew things to be different. You see just a few months before, I met a man that would change my life forever.\nIt all started when I was in the library studying for my Lit exam. I was just sitting at a small wooden table struggling to keep focused as I drudged though all of my notes.\nThen, out of the corner of my eye I noticed someone begin to pull the chair out from the other side of the table.\n\"Mind if I sit here?\"\n\"Uh, sure go ahead.\" I mumbled awkwardly.\nI was immediately taken in by the way that this guy presented himself. There was something unique about him that you don't see with most guys. He wasn't particularly well dressed or anything. I guess you could say it was the atmosphere surrounding him. Being the shy girl that I am, I just hung my head down and went back to studying in order to avoid any further embarassment. \nI couldn't help but notice though that the guy was staring at me.\nThen out of no where he started to try and talk to me.\n\"What're you studying?\"\n\"Uh.. Literature..,\" I stumbled. I could feel my anxiety raising to the max.\n\"Let's go outside\"\n\"What?\" I was taken aback by his sudden proposal.\n\"It's too nice a day outside to sit inside and waste it.\"\nNow, normally I'm not the one to follow someone blindly, but I had this strange gut feeling that I should go with him so I responded hesitantly, \"Uh..ok.\"\nWe packed up our stuff and headed outside.\nThe sun was shining and the air was just at the right tempurate. \n We began to walk down the sidewalk and head towards the campus park.\nFrom the moment we began to talk, I could myself letting go. It was as if all the burdens I had been carrying were exhausted from me. I became enraptured by his smile and entangled in his words as they ever so gracefully captured my heart.\nFrom that point on, we back the best of friends. Days, quickly turned to weeks which quickly turned to months.\nThen,yesterday as were laying down on my bed and starring each other in the eyes, he said the words every girl wants to here, \"I love you.\" Though I've heard those words many times with my exes, this time there was something different about them. He said it with a certain level of sincerity that drew me in. I didn't hesitate to assure him that I felt the same.\nSo, now here I am. Trying to answer one of the greatest philosophical questions of all time. I can't my answer is at all correct or meaningful but to me,\nLove is...\nInescapable. It's with us during both times of strength, and at times of weakness, a guardian of the heart and mind.\nLove is...\nImmeasurable. Knowing no bounds, love stretches across the imagination, letting us put aside our worries and fears, and letting us focus on what matters the most .\nLove is...\nIrreplacable. There is no feeling, no emotion that defines the human spirit better. No matter what mess we find ourselves in, love is there to help us stand strong.\nBut most of all, there is one word that perfectly describes what the this crazy idea we call love is.\nAbove all love is...\nHome.\n\n\n", "Hurrying steps carrying a desperate search, checking a map \"The park has to be close.\"\n\nIt was\n\n\"I've always been in control\" so I would know if this was love. It couldn't be.\n\nIt was\n\nWiping off sweaty palms before holding hands I'm minutes from what might be the happiest moment of my life.\n\nIt was\n\nThis couldn't be our luck, that can't be right!\n\nIt was\n\nEnraged I cried \"Anything can be fought!\" I refuse to believe in the word terminal.\n\nIt was\n\nFrail hand in mine, \"Do you think this is the end?\" I hear.\n\nIt was\n\nMy life may never be complete again but I am content because...\n\nIt was" ]	2
	[WP] You go in for routine surgery, while under anesthesia you find yourself in a cat and mouse game with the Grim Reaper. If you're caught, you die.	[ "He moves so slow, so slow through this maze. We’ve been running around this arena for hours now, or is it merely minutes? What is time when someone is unconscious anyways? \n \nThe maze is made of concrete walls, unpainted and unkempt. Moss grows over many parts of the walls and stretches across the top between the sides of the corridors. I keep catching glimpses of his dark, slender frame through the cracks in the wall. He’s never more than fifty yards from me, I can feel him close. From the strong stench he gives off, how could I not know where he is?\n\nAlas, I am tired of this game now, tired of this running; I no longer feel the need for this to continue. There are dark shadows in the corners of this walled maze, perhaps he will not see me if I hide in one as he passes. The thuds of his feet get louder as he approaches my location. Stand very still, I think to myself, not a peep, nor shall a single breath give me away. The footfalls slow as he nears my hiding corner, until his novel stench is nearly overwhelming. \nI am lucky! As the dark dressed figure creeps around the corner, his back is too me! He does not see the concentration in my eyes or the tension in my arms. The cumulative moment is here, and he knows not where I am. \n\nA small smile crosses my face as I bring the scythe down upon this one’s back, instantly reaping this soul from this plane to mine. How fun these games are, so much more exciting than the chess games I play with the dying souls. I never used to be able find unconsciousness souls before, till very recently, when these souls started smelling. Smelling like those human chemicals they think so highly of, I believe they call them anesthetics. Sniff… Ohhhh, another has come to play….\n", "Im running for my life and he's gaining on me. I know the second he grabs me its all over. I slow down to quick jog and can hear the heart rate monitor blaring along with the chaos of scrambling nurses and my panicked family. When he gets closer to me I realize I'm literally closer to dying. These intervals of alternating sprinting go on for 45 minutes and I cant take it anymore. Im slowing down. \n\nI pick up my pace to a sprint again when my mothers face becomes plastered on my mind. I picture her gripping my hand and suddenly the look of concern on her face becomes one of terror. Out of thin air the grim reaper appears and is holding a gun to her head, only she doesn't notice. The terror and sheer look of panic on her face is staring at my anesthetized body when she suddenly feints. \n\nI look to my left and now my mom is beside me and together we're running for our lives. As soon as I notice her, we both smile and time slows down. She has bright, green eyes and a worn face that tells you exactly how hard it was raising me by herself. Since the day she picked me up after school in the 2nd grade with a chicken mcnugget happy meal, I never saw my dad again. Ten years of working full-time, raising me alone, and tending to my grandparents took its toll on her. Even though she was in poor health, since I was diagnosed with cancer she sucked it up and stayed positive. She would always put on a smile but you could tell from her wrinkled eyes and forehead, she was laboring through life. Time starts speeding up again and I watch her fade back and dissolve in the Reaper's grips. \n\nI wake up immediately and see my mom lying limp on the ice-cold tile. Everyone is rushing to her and I barely able to make out a nurse starting CPR. My tumor operation was a success, but it came with a price. \n\n", "I feel myself slipping from consciousness. Yep, there it is, the dark vignetting so popularly depicted for people passing out. I guess it’s accurate. And… here I go. \n\nWait. Am I still awake? I feel awake, though I can’t really move anything or see anything or feel anything, but I can still think. That’s certainly unusual.\n\nI see something out of the corner of my eye, strange as that is, in a place without discernible dimensions. I can’t really turn to look so instead I act as if this is all some sort of lucid dream and imagine a simple room. Something a little more physical than this infinite blackness. Yes, there it is, it’s coming now. I guess that’s exactly what this is, some sort of lucid dream. Perhaps I’m dead or dying and on my way to some form of afterlife.\n\nI turn now, trying to find that which was in the corner of my eye and I find nothing. As my head turns back there is a black-robed figure in front of me. I feel chilled, my usual cool façade broken easily under the literally empty, void-like gaze from under the hood. I know now that I must run or I will face my maker, whether or not I believe in him.\n" ]	3
	[WP] A genie will grant you one wish. You wish to be the adult your younger self imagined you would be.	[ "The twin-charged, nitro-methanol injected V-10 was bellowing its literally ear-shattering, 2200 horsepower howl, while the oversized tires worked with feet of suspension travel to soak up the bumps and dips of the badlands terrain. Tyrannosaurus Trux is a hardcore monster truck, and I love every minute I'm behind the wheel. It's got tow hooks on the front of it, coming off of frame extensions made to look like those funny little arms that a T-Rex has. The paint job is a metallic green scale pattern, with the hood and front fenders shaped like the open jaws and teeth of the same beast. It might be the most fantastic vehicle I've ever seen, and I've seen M1A1 main battle tanks in person. We've won a fair number of the events we've entered, and word is that Bigfoot's driver is getting pissed that so many little kids are showing up wearing T-Trux shirts. Heh heh. \n\nI can see the dig site up ahead. We have an exciting find. We'd recieved a report of some huge ribs sticking out of the edge of a wash. Turns out it was an Apatosaur's rib cage. The skeleton looks pretty complete, and even has some material that looks to be fossilized soft tissue. What makes it even more exciting is that as we got down around the creatures hips, we found an adult Allosaur underneath. It looks like the Allosaur was attempting to bring down the much larger Apatosaur, but as they fought they were caught in a mudslide or something, and it buried them both alive. That's exciting stuff, and we're hoping that the soft tissues we're finding on the skeletons will answer some questions about the nature of these monsters, particularly if we can get some mitochondrial evidence about their metabolisms and whether they really were warm-blooded like it's been hypothesized. \n\nAs much as I'd like to be down there with my brush and chisel, I've got other business to take care of. The ring is set up a few hundred yards from the dig site. I can see the huge lights that will wash out the darkness of the wilderness night during my bout. My wrestling alter-ego, Dr. Bones, will be hosting a battle royale tonight, the one time only Badlands Bash. I flex slightly, feeling the bulge of muscles under my button-up shirt. I'm gonna pitch somebody into a cactus or I'm not Dr. Bones. \n\nI knew that was gonna be a good wish. I just knew it. ", "The first question everyone asks is why are you in here. To everyone else you may lie but not to anybody here. You always tell the truth. When they ask me I tell them it’s complicated and somebody else will reply that it’s not. The truth is that we’re both right, but I’ll never tell them the whole truth. I can’t.\n\nEight years ago I was on pilgrimage to Jerusalem. There is a network of individuals who will help pilgrims like me, and I was low on supplies so I decided to seek one out. Leaving the main roads, I followed what I thought was a dirt road that would lead me to this Samaritan’s house. The road became narrower and rougher as I went and before long darkness was setting in. I was faced with a difficult decision, press on through the dark and follow the rough path to the house that must be nearby or sleep in the open on the side of the road and try again in the morning. It wouldn’t have been the first time that I had slept outside on my trip, but rarely so deep in the wilderness and Turkey’s nights were becoming ever colder. I chose to push on, the temptation of a warm house in which to sleep beat out a night on the cold, hard ground.\n\nThe moon was bright overhead and the stars plentiful and seemed to make navigation easy, but I never did find the house I was looking for. If I had ever been on the right path I must have lost it without knowing in the dark. For what must have been several hours I stumbled on fruitlessly, before I decided to give up and hunker down for the night. The path had been following the edge a ravine and I recalled that there had been a cave maybe a couple hundred yards back so, in another stunning display of genius that night, I decided to double back to it and sleep there for a while.\n\nIt must have been midday when I finally woke up. I got up and gathered my things and tried to determine whether I should continue to follow the trail in hope of finding that house, or retrace it and move on. That is when I realized that there was no path. I was utterly baffled, there had certainly been some path last night perhaps not the right path but a path nonetheless, yet now there was nothing not even my own footprints to show the way. I looked at the cave thinking maybe I had come out on the wrong end of some small tunnel but it was most assuredly a cave. A deep, dark, long cavern.\n\nA metal pile gleamed in the corner and upon closer examination I found that they were golden coins that looked hundreds of years old. I noticed several more piles each one a little deeper than the last. I took out my cellphone and checked it, not a lot of battery left but I could explore a little way. With the flash on I pressed further into the abyss following the trail of bread crumbs. It wasn’t long before the narrow passage expanded into a large, rock chamber. In the middle was a huge pile of golden urns, vases, coins, bars, jewels and more, stacked twice as high as me, and topped with a large chest. Curiosity, understandably, got the better of me and I tried to climb up to the chest to peek inside. My first attempt saw me get halfway there before the treasures under my feet shifted and I slid back down. On my second effort I nearly reached the top when I grabbed hold of a lamp. The thing shook and rumbled back and forth beneath my grasp before it leapt free of my hand of its own accord. I lost my balance and went tumbling back down the incline painfully. When I finally got up there was a semi-transparent man standing over me.\n\n“Mortal, you have freed me from my prison within which I have been trapped for a thousand years. In return I will grant you a single wish,” it spoke.\n\nCaught slightly off guard I exclaimed the first thought I had. “Bullshit.”\n\nIn an instant a pile of crap appeared next to me surpassing the pile of treasure that had already filled the room. The smell was overwhelming and my eyes watered. “That wasn’t what I meant,” I coughed.\n“I am familiar with your common expletive. People have often desired displays of my power so I chose to provide you with one. Now you know. Choose wisely.”\n\nThe pile disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived blessedly taking the smell with it. My senses cleared I took a few moments to think. I had never wanted much from life. I didn’t want a billion dollars or fancy things, world peace or equality, and I didn’t want every beautiful woman to fall in love with me. I always wanted a simple life, a nice but modest house, a beautiful and caring wife, a good career that I enjoyed, the sort of things that I had dreamed of as a kid. All the other kids dreamed of going to space or being firefighters, but me, I only ever wanted the sort of life that you saw on old sitcoms. That’s what I asked the genie for, the life that I wanted when I was a kid.\n\nAnd that’s precisely what I got. I got what I wanted when I was young. The future I had envisioned. See, the problem is that I had forgotten exactly what I wanted as a kid. I saw the dream of escaping the hell that my life was, but he saw the dream of breaking free of the hell my life was.\n\nMy father was a drunk and a deadbeat. He had a dead end job that he hated and to escape that he would go drinking. Then he would come home and beat me or my sister, whichever he saw first. When she got a little older I think he started to abuse her in other ways but I never asked. And mom? She let him beat us because she blamed us for taking away the good man he was and ruining their lives. Hell, sometimes she beat us too. She’s the one who stabbed us with lit cigarettes and poured boiling water on us. Of course that’s when she wasn’t so high on one drug or another that she couldn’t stand.\n\nThe genie went back into my childhood and found a dream that had burned much brighter than the one I had thought of. Where instead of growing old and escaping my family and making a better life for myself, I took matters into my own hands and built a better life on the bones of the old one. In this I took the shotgun that my father kept for hunting, threatening us, and occasionally contemplating suicide and turned it on my parents. I killed them both.\n\nI remember both lives. The one in which my parents lived and abused us until me and my sister ran away, and the one where I killed my parents and I was arrested. With every day my old life fades and becomes harder to remember. My sister still comes to visit me from time to time. Ironically she ended up with the life I thought I was getting but I don’t mind. At least she’s happy. She says that if I get parole in two years I can stay with her until I get on my feet, but I think I might finish that pilgrimage first.\n", "So I'm an astronaut now, I guess. Which sucks because I'm stuck in the international space station with zero knowledge of how to do my job.\n\nSee, I should have bundled my wish with the instructions on how to be an astronaut, but I wasn't thinking ahead. I was all hopped up on that new Star Wars trailer. \n\nShitty use of a wish. I mean, you gotta wish for money, right? Unlimited money, unlimited opportunities to go to space the right way. And unlimited everything else. I really dropped the ball. \n\nEDIT: Typo", "Journal, I need to tell someone what happened. I can't believe it, if I hadn't lived it I wouldn't believe it in the first place. If someone finds this, this is a true story make no doubt about it. It all started when I met a genie who would grant me a single wish. A GENIE! They do exist! I felt like Aladdin except without the moral compass.\n\n\nHere's the first day:\n\n\n\"Your one wish is to be the adult you always hoped to be. Is this your true desire?\"\n\n\nI respond simply. \"Yes.\"\n\n\n\"Thy will, be done.\"\n\n\nI awoke to the sound of an alarm. What time is it? I look around this unfamiliar place and wonder what exactly I got into last night. I thought I'd drank too much or someone slipped me an extra in my drink. I hadn't been blackout drunk in a very long time.\n\n\nWhat I woke up to was every boys dream. It was like a harem, I felt like the biggest pimp on earth. Not 1, not 2, not 3, 4. Four beautiful women lay sprawled across my bed in various positions. My bed, it was massive! Like the kinds you see drug lords having in those classic movies! Oh this was crazy. My room, if you could call it that, it was big enough to fit my old apartment in! \n\n\nThis was the defining moment of my new life. I can't help but look back and remember this day.\n\n\nIt took me 3 full days to figure out exactly what it was I did for a living. You'll never believe it, nothing. I did nothing but what I wanted to do! Turns out I became a writer and immediately hit it off. Before waking up in this life I'd written 4 different fantasy series each of which made me millions. The money just sits in banks now, collecting that sweet American interest. I was in love. The people loved me, I was happy with myself, and I was never wanting for anything.\n\n\nI married, had some kids who turned out to be great, and life was better than I thought. When they invented three dimensional worlds they chose to use the worlds I created for my books as the basis for the first themes. This was a very proud day for me, I was the first person to step foot in another world! The kid in me was so happy, I was happy, life was perfect. I was getting to an older age, almost 75 before I started feeling something wasn't right.\n\n\nHere's what the genie doesn't tell you, as soon as your wish comes true, you start a timer. This timer reflects how much longer your wish stays active for, and mine ran out.\n\n\nSo here I sit in the nightstand, twenty-five again. I've lived a whole glorious life and now I have to return to the one I left. Still, something doesn't feel right.\n\n\nThere's someone else in the house, someone that looks like me, but isn't. It just feels right that he's here though. Nobody ever talks to me anymore though, they only talk to him, which is why I decided to make you in the first place, Journal. He even has the same name as me! Maybe we're brothers, I can't remember. Sometimes he looks at me and laughs. Usually he ignores me too though. These wristbands are on too tight too, I just wish I could get them off. Maybe then they'll all talk to me again. Maybe then I'll be able to move again.\n\n\nUntil tomorrow journal,\n\n-Eric Fontella", "\"How young?\" The genie asked, perplexed by my decision.\n\n\"Six,\" I reply confidently, feeling it was the appropriate mixture of childhood fantasy and an understanding of reality.\n\n\"And you're sure about this one? You don't want to just be your own ideal?\"\n\n\"My ideal has since been corrupted. We're doing this.\"\n\nHe sighed heavily, \"Alright, your wish your rules, but someone's gonna need to find the lamp again before this gets fixed up. I'm not going to be around, you know, to help you adjust.\"\n\nAs sparks shot from his fingertips and lights seemed to envelope the world, I refused to close my eyes. They burned with the brightness of it, yes, but I would not shut my eyes to the brilliance of my childhood dreams coming true. What would I be? A fireman? A professional videogamer? A superhero? So many things I had wanted so long ago. My eyes were watering now, and tears streamed down my face. Finally, when I could take no more, I squeezed them shut.\n\nThere was a great rush of air, and all was silent. Things were different. I could feel it in my bones, from my nose to my tail.\n\nI flicked open one set of eyelids, and then the other, and cast my gaze around my city. People stared at me in awe and alarm. Cell phones were slowly raised, photos and videos taken. Someone started screaming, and the crowd began to move outward, flowing away from me in terror. Police officers ran toward me or away at random, some deciding that their pay-grade just was not high enough to deal with the present situation. I ignored the officers and their guns as I spread my great wings and left the surface. The winds from my escape shattered windows and floored those who had chosen to remain. As I soared higher, I let you a great gout of flame ahead of me.\n\nI was a motherfucking dragon, and that's the way it was meant to be." ]	5
	[WP] The Antichrist finds himself in the wrong apocalypse.	[ "I stood at the gates, my horsemen behind me and an army of demons further back. Finally the doors opened, fresh air poured into Hell, then a dead jaguar, then another dead jaguar, and about twelve more. \"The hell?!\"\n\nA deep rumble responded from Hell itself \"Yo?\".\n\n\"What? No, just an expression.\"\n\n\"Alright. Bye.\"\n\nA dark-skinned man in black Mayan dress came in through the doors.\n\n\"Sorry man, you guys were late so, you know, jaguars falling from the sky.\"\n\n\"We were like five minutes late! We ran into some traffic in the Pit of Despair.\"\n\n\"Don't know what to tell you, the Powers that Be are kind of particular about this sort of thing.\"\n\n\"Fuck you. C'mon guys, back to turning the spits.\"\n\n\"Awwwwww.\"", "\"What.\" Jim stated flatly. As the Antichrist, he had expected to bring plagues, not find them. Shit, he had an employee who specialized in that sort of thing.\n\nRegardless, there they were: zombies, shambling around, generally looking disheveled. \n\n\"Pestilence!\" He shrieked. \"Did you start without me?!\" \n\nPestilence, a sickly, meek looking woman shuffled up to him, her gaze cast downward. \"No. Honest.\" She mumbled. \n\n\"Where's Jesus?! Where are the angels?!\" He shouted. War was getting antsy. \n\n\"Is there a Taco Bell anywhere? I'm super hungry, dude.\" Famine said, his long, greasy hair falling around his unshaven face. \n\n\"Just keep smoking your joint, Famine.\" Jim said. \"Ah, jeez. What on earth am I gonna do for the next seven years?\" \n\n\"Well, we could kill 'em!\" Conquest said brightly. Jim rolled his eyes. \n\nTypical Conquest.", "\"What do you mean I need to eat this \"Sol thing\"? I'm supposed to have a nice battle with some angels, see some whores riding 7 horned beast, claim the remaining souls of Earth. Ya'know, real apocalyptic stuff.\"\n\nThe large flaming (in multiple ways: both literally on fire, and having a crush on a icy looking thing AC had seen earlier) giantesque form stared at him with stupid small eyes, \"I dunno whatta doo. I shuld jest bring ya to Looki.\"\n\n\"No, I demand to see the lead Satanist. Not that you're doing a bad job around here, I love what you've done with the guy both speared into and hanging from a tree, but I think this leads a bit more... organization.\"\n\n I wanna write more but am at school right now, if anyone wants more AC in Nagnarok, tell me.", "WHAT, SON OF MIDGARD? Rumbled the impossibly tall man, shaped like a crudely chiseled iceberg, wind whipping around him ferociously.\n\n\n“I said!,” Snarled the handsome black-haired man, blue eyes flaring and teeth (a shade too white and a touch too sharp) showing, “What the HELL are you doing here?”\n\nGODDESS HEL HAS FALLEN, uttered the colossus, in a voice implacable as continents.\n\nThe dark-haired man clawed the air in frustration, and lashed a vicious kick at a snowdrift. “No! No, you overgrown icicle! HELL! Aiche! Eee! Double-god-damned-HOCKEY-STICKS HELL!” \n\n…WHAT IS ‘HOCKEY’?\n\n“Arrgh!” \n\n“A game!” Piped up a small, simpering imp, who a moment ago had been hidden in the man’s sleeve, and now squeezed his tiny, catlike face out from under the cuff. Apparently oblivious to his master’s incredibly foul mood, it blithered on, “A violence game played with sticks and hard things and blades on the feet! On ice!“ It attempted to cackle, but, smashed as it was, it came out more like a phlegmy chuckle.\n\nThe giant, astride his glacier, nodded. A FINE GAME.\n\nThe man violently wrested the imp from his coat, and tossed it, still cackling, over the side of the icy cliff. The glacier was grinding its way south at a disconcerting speed…\n\nHe whirled back to face the seemingly unconcerned giant. “Hell! Abbadon! The Abyss! Perdition! The Pit! Why, in the name of the The First Unclean, are you crushing goddamn England with your goddamn trained avalanche!?”\n\nIT IS THE END. RAGNAROK. JORMUGAND’R HAS SLIPPED ITS BONDS. FENRIR MOVES TO EAT THE SUN. THE BOAT OF DEAD MEN’S NAILS HAS CRESTED THE LAST WAVE. WE HAVE FELLED THE SPAWN OF ODIN. SO, NOW ENDS MIDGARD.\n\n“Well, that is completely unac-f-cking-ceptable!”\n\n…YOUR APPROVAL IS SOMEWHAT…SURPUFLUOUS. Responded the giant, clearly a bit chagrined by the flat denial of the stranger at his pronouncement of the end-times. Normally, there was more wailing.\n\n“Like hell it is! How am I supposed to topple the thrones of men when I can’t even see them anymore? How am I supposed to lead a one-world government when the UN is under half a mile of f-cking ice?! Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to build a bonfire, let alone a fire pit?. And don’t get me started on omens-“\n\nI DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING ABOU-\n\n“-because, HOW THE HELL,“ he roared, undissuaded “are the rivers supposed to run red with blood, when they’re frozen solid!? How am I supposed to scare the ravens from the Tower of London when you ground them, and it, to a paste fifteen minutes ago?! They’re still there! Sure, flatter, and a whole lot deader, but they’re still there! This is a disaster!”\n\n…THAT IS THE IDEA. He was now deeply uncomfortable. No one had told him Ragnarok would involve this much… talking.\n\n“I demand to see your supervisor!”\n\nYOU…WHAT?\n\n“Your boss! Loogie, or Luigi or whoever he is! Get that red-haired little asshole over here right now!”\n\nSuddenly, the sun overhead, shining clearly here so far above the freezing stormclouds, blossomed into eight separate glowing orbs, and an austere-looking Indian man, holding a glowing sword, and riding a flying white horse, descended from the heavens, and alighted next to them. \n\n“Hello? “he began a bit bashfully, in a thick Calcutta accent, “ I am here to end the evils of Kali yuga, and usher in a new age of satya yuga, but I think there is some confusion? I do not remember anything about ice?”\n\nThe dark-haired man stared, then rubbed the bridge of his nose and groaned aloud. “Oh my God.” \n\n“Avatar, actually.” The newcomer said in a peaked voice.\n\nHe stopped rubbing, and sighed. “No kidding.”\n\n He tool on an indulgent expression, closed his eyes, and began to lecture in a satisfied tone.“No, I am not kidding. I am the last incarnation of Vishnu, the redeemer, the-“ \n\nThe rest was cut off by a snowball to the face. He staggered, then recovered, and shot him a condemning look.\n\n“…You put ice in that!”\n\n“Did not! You didn’t see me!”\n\nThe giant had* seen him, and he definitely did. This was getting out of hand. \n\n\n… I WILL SEND FOR LOKI.\n\n“Is Loki the one responsible for this, then?” A black hole opened midair, a rent torn into what looked like the night sky, and a man with skin tanned so brown it was almost black, covered in beads, colorful feathers, and a jaguar-pelt cloak, stepped out of it. He had two black eyes, a broken nose, and was covered from head to toe with bruises and cuts. He also had roughly a dozen arrows sticking from his back, but didn’t seem to notice them. He tossed his cracked-in –half stone-headed axe to the ground, where it started to smolder faintly.\n\nHe looked up, upon feeling the three sets of eyes upon him. “Yes, hello” he said, in a voice like a Latin romance, “I am Huitzilopochtili, god of the Day and of war also. I regret to say the Tzitzimitl bone spirits of the stars and servants of my sister Coyolxauhqui, damn them, have at last triumphed over me, and are on their way here now. Any moment, my sun will extinguish, and in the coming darkness, they will devour mankind. …I do not remember anything about ice, however.”\n\nCurious gazes were directed to the heavens, where the eight suns were still slowly dancing in a circle. One of them winked out. The rest stayed, burning merrily.\n\n“Ah… Well. A bit anticlimactic, I suppose.” He muttered idly. “Whose suns are those?”\n\n“They are mine!” piped up the Indian man.\n\n“One too many, in my opinion, but very nice.”\n\nAn impossibly large wolf took that moment to emerge from behind the horizon, reach up, and devour another sun in a single gulp.\n\n“Much better. Six is a good number for suns.”\n\nThe black-haired man sat down heavily in the snow and held his face in his hands. “This is a nightmare. I’m having some kind of… of eschatological nightmare. I’m going to wake up, and I’ll be back in my home, and there will be the usual orgy waiting for me, and everything will be normal.”\n\n“Say, would any of you happen to have the disembodied heart of a warrior on you?” Asked the new arrival casually.\n\nWithout looking , the black-haired man reached into a pocket, and absently tossed him a sandwich-sized Ziploc with something red inside it.\n\nForlorn, his head fell into his lap.“This is the worst day of my life.”\n\nMINE, ALSO.\n\n“Shut up.”\n" ]	4
	[WP] The United States lost the War of 1812 and became an English colony again. In 1861, the United States banded together for a second revolution but this time, all the Civil War leaders and generals are on the same side for independence.	[ "Sans Revolution Without the successful rebellion of the colonies the world is a different place. The expansion of The Empire has gone unimpeded. Revolutions and rebellions across Europe and her colonies have faltered and failed. Here Parliament was cowed first and all but abolished. It stands as less than a shadow. Parliament acts as the public facade of public rule. The Lords & Commons gorge on the spoils of empire and further only their own self interests both at home and abroad.\n\nHis Majesty George III (25 October 1760 – 29 January 1820) met only with triumph and prosperity where King Henry and his contemporaries met with misfortune and sorrow. With the colonial rabble quashed his Highness was able to better focus on matters nearer at hand. Seeing weakness in his neigbour's rule, the commoners rioting and murdering their betters, his Majesty campaigned to fulfill the most earnest rights of his ancestors. To make his kingdom truly whole.\n\nThe effort required more than a generation. But the dream was realized by his son, George the IV. Now Britain's first and most ancient colony and its' surrounding lands now kneel before the throne. Brittany is British once more! France is now the third kingdom of Great Britain.\n\nOfficially slavery goes out of fashion in Europe and is abolished. Indentured servitude and many other forms of subjection, under different names, persist.\n\nIn the colonies much has been gained. The West has been conquered. A railroad connecting the East Coast to the West Coast now meets in a young settlement.\n\nNew Caledonia Home to 5,000, now well over 25,000 with the rail workers and their followers. The Baron of Ulysses, Lord Grant-Stuart, Knight of the Order of the Thistle, smiles good naturedly as he shakes hand with his counterpart on the stage where the two rail lines will momentarily join. Railroad tycoon and adroit business man, Lord Grant-Stuart has accomplished his dream of more than a decade, unifying East with West.\nDuke Robert Lee, Captain-General of the Blue, Knight of the Order of the Garter, reaffirms his grip on Lord Grant-Stuart and raises their clasped hands to the people, press, and photographers of the assembled throngs of people.\n\nThe crowds roar with thunderous applause and cheers.\n\nOne young man stands and smiles and cheers along with the rest. The smile stops at his eyes. Such cold eyes. Such and anger and contempt held within them. And such potential could the eyes of Arthur W. P. Albert dream to behold.\n\nLiberty\n\n...And power.\n\nArthur Albert would do anything to achieve his goals. To meet the expectations. The hopes of his most favored instructor.\n\nThe old man of the Tower.\n\nThe storyteller.\n\nDumas\n", "\"You've got to rein him in. It's too much. This isn't how war is meant to be fought, dammit! We're a civilized nation!\"\n\nGrant glared back at Lee, eyes hard. \"Your tactics won us the South, Lee. Honorably. Yet you've seen how the British hold. They are resolute. They are strong, and their resolve runs deep where the people support them. We must break that determination. We must tear them up from the roots,\" he growled, hands grasping as if tearing at weeds or choking a throat.\n\nRobert E. Lee spat, tobacco juice staining the tent wall. \"Damn you, Grant! If we make ourselves animals, we're no better than they are! How are we to govern a land turned to ash? How are we to make citizens of dead men and empty-eyed women and children?\"\n\nGrant practically snarled. \"You speak of animals? After Vicksburg? Do you recall how the men looked, staggering out after we broke the siege? Do you remember what the damned redcoats did to our men?\"\n\nLee shuddered with the memory. Vicksburg had been bad. Worse than bad. The men had walked out, bones sticking out against their skin. Eyes hollow, faces blackened with soot and smoke. In spite of the victory, it had been a dark day, as dark as when Stonewall was shot dead in Chancellorsville. He took a breath and met Grant's eye, fighting to keep his voice from shaking. \"I understand the motivation, but I do not approve of the tactics! He is destroying the life and livelihood of men who would be our citizens!\" he cried.\n\nGrant shook his head. \"I gave him an order. An order that will break the East. If he has taken it with gusto, I can only praise him. It was a simple order, and he has followed it to the letter. Scorched earth was what I asked for, and it is what he has given us. Following his success, I believe we can take Boston within the month, and this damnable war might be at its end! Now, if you would speak against him further, at least let him speak for himself!\" Grant gestured to a guard, \"James, call in Sherman!\"\n\nThe man who strode into the tent wore his blues with pride, the smell of smoke clinging to him like cologne. \"Gentleman,\" William T. Sherman said, \"Washington burns.\"", "The young cavalry commander dug his spurs into Skylark. J.E.B. Stuart’s company was making slow going in the fresh snow, but that was no reason to not make it back to the camp before nightfall. After all, the General was counting on his and his company’s report on the movements of the enemy. A scout galloped back toward him.\n \n“Sir, the camp is just over the hill on yonder.” \n“Good work Corporal. Let’s see who’s here to greet us.”\n\nStuart guided Skylark into the camp straight to the General’s tent. A tired aid held open the flap to admit Stuart. \n\n“I see this early Philadelphia snow hasn't hindered your progress to much Commander.” \n\n“Well sir, y’all can’t help but move a bit faster so you stay warm, General.”\n\nUlysses S. Grant smiled, and waved over to the map lying on the table under the lanterns. “Why don’t you give me your dispositions? If they’re favorable, maybe I’ll be able to get Jeff Davis off my case in the 3rd Continental Congress. Lord knows he’s just eager for some Limey blood.”\n\nStuart laughed politely. “Honest Abe ain't able to keep him pinned up? Hardly seems like he’s running the place sometimes.”\n\nGrant shrugged. “It’s not even a legitimate government; it will be rough around the edges for a while yet.”\n\nStuart had already begun marking on the map. “The garrison from Baltimore is moving out, heading for Harrisburg. It seems that Sir Patrick Grant hasn't made up his mind whether he wants to come looking for a fight, or if he wants to strike west and conquer Pittsburgh.”\n\nGrant narrowed his eyes. “Sir Grant has had experience dealing with rebellions in India. He wants us to react to his movements, as opposed to the other way around, and has a good way of doing so too.”\n\nThe orderly ducked his head in. “Sir, General Jackson is here.” \n\n“Thank you Mr. Radcliffe, Send him in, we need his expertise.”\n\nJackson entered the tent. “I have received word from Sherman. He and Longstreet are making good progress in Texas. Unfortunately, McClellan seems to be doing a poor job in Virginia” Jackson said as he moved toward the table. “I hoped you haven’t started planning without me. The good Lord knows we need to work together, if for no reason than to keep Congress happy.”\n\nGrant sighed. “No, of course not. And I frankly am tired of discussing what Congress is up too. Let us instead look at what the British are up too.”\n\nJackson eyed the map. “He’s keeping his options open. What can we do to force his choice?” \n\n“We’ll have to make a nuisance of ourselves. Something to force him to ignore Pittsburgh, we need the iron.” Stuart stated.\n\n“Agreed” Grant said. “Gentlemen, what of this? We let Sir Grant march towards Harrisburg, but he should hear we are coming south to the west of him in order to liberate Baltimore while he’s away. He’ll head west then, since he can get either us or Pittsburgh that way. We just need to find a good spot to ambush the British from. “\n\nStuart pointed at a spot. “This town is ideal. It has several hills in order to give us the high ground. By the time the Limey’s hear about us, they’ll be north of us, and have to come from the low ground.”\n\nJackson nodded. “It is a good place. The only thing we have to worry about is that loyalist Robert E. Lee warning Sir Grant it’s a good spot for us.”\n\nUlysses S. Grant stood up. “It shouldn't matter; Lee likely won’t see these mountains as high enough to be a problem. As long as Stuart’s company can hound them in, Gettysburg will be a fine place to fight.”\n", "The quiet representative from Illinois had not spoken the entire day as delegates from the Northern territories and the Southern territories bickered at each other all day over whether the new Declaration should declare themselves to be a slaveholding nation, and strip the citizenship of the blacks. The Crown's decision to abolish the practice more than a decade ago rankled the Southern aristocracy even today as they were forced to live alongside their former property. The Northern state representatives instead wanted to focus on the taxes levied on shipping and industrialized goods: steel, textiles, etc. \n\n\"They're traitors!\" argued one gentleman from Louisiana. \"They would sell us out to the British in an instance, and take our women and our property!\"\n\nRepresentative Lincoln stood suddenly and ambled to the front of the room. His imposing height and muscular stature was enhanced by his tall hat, allowing him to tower over the rest of the legislators. He approached the podium and thrust a massive hand forward demanding the gavel. Shocked at his sudden, impudent interruption, the committee chairman handed it over without a fight. Lincoln stood and surveyed the crowd silently.\n\nLincoln opened his satchel and withdrew his writing instruments, then approached the delegates from Mississippi. A wealthy young politician named Alexander Stephens stood formally to greet him. Without a word, Lincoln emptied his pot of ink onto the man's head, shaking out every last drop. Inked dripped down Steven's face and marred his fine, expensive coat. \n\n\"And now,\" Lincoln said slowly. \"You are black as well.\" He spoke in barely a whisper. \"Does it matter? Is your desire to be free now quenched? Would you now happily abide under British rule?\"\n\nStevens could only sputter.\n\n\"All men desire to be free!\" Lincoln roared to the assembled crowd. \"Whether they be white or black, Northern or Southern.\" He returned to the podium as the crowd erupted in a flurry of argument. But his booming voice overcame theirs. \n\n\"What sort of man comes to this chamber and argues for his own liberty while asking to put his neighbor back into bondage?\" Lincoln raised his arms, pantomiming chains, turning to the Southern delegates. \"And what sort of man cares more about his purse than his freedoms?\" he suggested, glancing significantly at the Northerners. \"Our forefathers sought to bring forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men* are created equal. It is for us the living to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they so nobly advanced. It is for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us that from the honored patriots we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. That we here highly resolve that our fathers and grandfathers shall not have died in vain: that the nation they envisioned shall have a new birth of freedom and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall rise from the ashes like the phoenix of old!\"\n\nHe thumped his fists on the podium as he finished his speech, and the audience chamber erupted in applause. Even Alexander Stephens clapped, spattering ink across the table." ]	4
	[WP] The remaining people of a post-apocalyptic world all go search for the remaining source of Wi-Fi. The location of where they find signal is not where they expected.	[ "\"Janet, please ... we have to keep walking. Nobody gives a shit about your dog.\"\n\n\"Fuck you Thomas.\"\n\nThe others stared at them coldly, as Janet cradled her 'poor baby' in her arms. \n\n\"Both of you, shut up. We need to keep moving.\" Sometimes Max felt like he was the only sane one in the group, constantly calming people down, breaking up arguments, standing in the way of a tensely bound fist aimed at somebody else. Today was day 57 ... 57 long days since the outbreak had decimated the city, and we hadn't yet found the Wi-Fi. The signal was slowly getting stronger, but everyone's patience was wearing thin. You can only put up with so much when you've eaten little more than 5 pieces of bread in 6 days.\n\nAs Janet scattered the last of the dust over her dog's corpse, the others began walking. The last cellphone in the group was on, battery at 32%, screen as dim as it could go. In the distance, they could all see a hospital, eerily quiet ... no ambulances blaring in and out anymore.\n\n\"We have to check it out guys. I know none of you want to. But we have to. Besides, they might have extra medical supplies in there, and fresh water.\" Max was their guide, and without him they would be lost.\n\nThey approached the hospital, Wi-Fi signal slowly getting stronger. Janet sobbed, \"Thank god, it's coming from inside.\" \n\n\"It's still too weak for me to do anything. Only three bars. We need five.\" Max reminded her sharply, \"and there's no guarantee we can access wherever it's coming from.\"\n\nThe halls of the hospital were empty. A TV blaring from one of the rooms was the only sound that could be heard. Max called out. \"Hello? Is anybody there??\" No response.\n\nFour bars. \n\nAs they approached the patient rooms, the sound of the TV got louder. They all paused as they reached the door that the sound was coming from. Beverly Hills 90210 was on. Great. Max's hand reached towards the door handle, and he exclaimed \"Five bars!\". But as he spoke those beautiful words, Janet was beginning her own sentence. \"Max.. Look at this. On the wall. This is Seacliff Hospital.. where the outbreak occurred in room fifteen\" As the rest of the group peered at big \"1 5\" on the door, Max's eyes grew wide. Patient zero. He was sick... but alive. Everyone else who came in contact with him had died.\n\nAnd the Wi-Fi was coming from his room. ", "There were only 5 of us left.\n\nWe were once a proud race, but when the Wi-Fi died, we found we needed internet to survive.\n\nWe did not know how to get food without yahoo answers, we had no dank memes to satisfy our cravings, and some of us didn't know how to breathe without the help of health forums.\n\nThere was hope though.\n\nThe tales of El McRardo, the land of free Wi-Fi.\n\nThe legends of the place marked by the golden arches was all that kept us going.\n\nAt last after years of walking we finally saw those golden beacons in the distance. Salvation.\n\nOur phones immediately get two bars and we finally find peace.\n\nWe walk up to the mysterious figure at the end of this strangely tiled place, was she the source of our salvation?\n\n\"Hi, how may I take your order,\" it spoke and we all choked up, what did we say to this strange creature.\n\nA phone rang and saved us from this trauma. I teared up when I saw it was Bobby, he was still alive. The only one of us brave enough to stay behind and monitor the place we called home.\n\n\"Hey, the internet is back on, get back here so we can continue the LAN party.\"\n\nWith a cheer all my group ran out the door but I stayed, perplexed by this strange creature.\n\nWithout knowing what to do I scratched my neckbeard, tipped my fedora and vanished into the night.\n\n", "The small towns were the only ones safe. The villages, the farming communities - they were spared. Seventy years ago it happened. All that crap about \"nuclear deterrence\" and \"mutually assured destruction\". Only the second one was right. Every major city in the world was destroyed by the blasts and the bigger ones that weren't were soon overrun and anarchic. Nobody lives there anymore. We all live in farms and small isolated neighborhoods. There haven't been any governments forming in our area yet but there's been word of something appearing in the northeast. \n\nAnyway, I found something this morning. I live with my grandparents on their farm, no mom or dad. I was with them when it happened and found my way back here several years ago. They had solar panels installed a few years before the Event and I was out exploring with an old Galaxy smartphone. I started going around and taking pictures of everything in the area a few months after I got here. I figure it will be good to know whats out there. Now it's just become relaxing and fun.\n\n I was exploring the old city nearby. There's an old hospital there, long since looted clean but I was inside and got Wi-Fi. I didn't even notice until I was about to leave and the phone dinged. \"28 new Photos have been backed up.\" I walked out. This is my world now, we're doing fine. Whatever is out there now, they don't need to know about us. \n\n// Just realized this isn't quite what the prompt intended. My fault\n " ]	3
	[WP] "Look," it said. "The humans have come."	[ "After efficient intergalactic space travel had been discovered on Earth, the humans did what humans did best. They set out in their sleek ships, stocked with sleeping lasers and sleeping bodies, and set out into the void. They crashed onto the lands of other races, eradicating what they saw, and subjugating the rest. Humans seemed determined to become a virus, to grow their colonies on the most fertile soils, to spread to the distant reaches of the universe, and to plague every corner with their diseased ilk. To infinity and beyond.\n\nThe first species to be conquered were ... surprised, really. A race, so feeble, yet so ambitious! They had merely discovered space travel a few hundred years ago; what could they do? The leaders laughed. \"Look,\" they said. \"The humans have come.\" \n\nHow quickly they fell to their own hubris. Skies burned that day. Lands burned that day. Life burned that day. And no-one took notice to the plight of the species.\n\nIt was only after the hundredth pillaging that the alliances began to smell danger. Slowly, the statement made in jest became one made in fear. Civilizations waited, huddled near their radios, waiting every day in the hopes their leaders would never say the words. \"The humans have come.\" Some fell to the belief that their defenses were strong enough to overcome the firepower. Some fell waiting for their allies to save the day. Some took action against the incoming threat, and fell anyway. Over the course of thousands and thousands of years, the universe bled slowly, an internal wound that could not be staunched.\n\nNone of these things matter anymore. We are the last race. We have waited anxiously for many years. As a species, we hoped to make the most of whatever precious time we had left. And every day, we turned on our radios, and we listened, and we waited. \n\nToday we finished waiting. \n\nLook, it said. The humans have come. ", "I had watched them for a while... It was my place to keep watch for them. They were so weak, and fragile, it was our fear they would be wiped out before they had a chance to mature. Far before their time they were trying to reach out to us. Touching the great blackness with their chunks of fire and earth. We worried that if we did not remember them, we might miss them when they came. If some met them here first... The humans would no longer be with us at all. \n \nTheir bodies could not take it, the blackness... Their minds did not have the years to fix what was broken. Nor even could they see what was broken until it was too late. Many died for their foolishness. It was only their impossible lack of knowledge that let them gain ground however. If they had known perhaps they would not have ever tried. They were odd that way. \nThe way they went about things was so strange... Pressing forward, without really knowing anything, looking at the mistakes, and then trying again... Often with an approach that looked much the same. But over time... Little changes made it whole. It only worked because they never stopped breeding. Or maybe it was because they never stopped breeding that they learned that way... I was not to know. \n \n\"Look,\" It said, \"the humans have come.\" \n \nAnd so they had... Though their work was not perfect, though they wouldn't last more than a century that way. They came, they chose a planet and they took it for their own, they would begin living on it. It was a motion, and one they should not yet have taken... They were not nearly ready for the declaration they had made. But we watched them. So they would live, at least what life they had. " ]	2
	[WP] It all fades.	[ "Late night drabble: \"Happiness fades\" \n\nThis is another restless night. I remembered to eat after ten hours of being awake. I have still to drink anything other than coffee. My hippie sister would probably tell me all this is killing my chakras and blocking my third eye or whatever bullshit she reads about on the pot filled, hallucinogenic fuck-fests that she gives fancy names to, like “enlightenment session”, or “energy channeling”. Whatever. God, I fucking hate her. Bitch. Not that there is a God. And if he exists, I hate that fucking prick too. \n As you may have noticed, I am a rather bitter person, the kind TV series screenwriters turn into the comic relief-with-heartfelt-semi dramatic moments-character of your usual sitcom, or your unusual, slightly offbeat, documentary-style office comedy. Original, right? Everyone's so very original these days. It's what they tell us ever since we leave the uterus, after all; “You're so special, Timmy!”; “Jennifer could go places, such a clever, extraordinary child”; “Why, it's so bad we no longer have the monarchy established, you will just have to settle for president, Freddie baby!”\n That's us; the oh so clever, oh so pretty, oh so dazzling, extraordinary, unique, bombastic generation of TV character archetypes, copying and paraphrasing and plagiarising our lifestyle from the screens and the billboards and the cartons of artificial milk that poisons us since birth -but wait! It's organic!-, everyone pretending like we're the best thing to ever come out of the universe's asshole, while in truth, we're nothing else but a pitiful bunch of misled, overcoddled and bubble-surrounded nobodies. \n\nThe sad truth, that everyone is terrified of. We. Are. Nobodies. \n\nNothing.\n\nA big zero in the grand abyss of the Cosmos. A zero that copies, devours, and destroys.\n\nThe next puff of smoke gets in my eyes. I tear up and blink and cough, trying to clear my vision. My phone vibrates. I know it's Max, because Max is the only person who bothers with me at this point. At least for now. He'll turn away soon enough. \n\n“7.30 ok?”\n\nThe last Supper. The tearful goodbye. More TV archetypes. More copying. \n\n I give him a confirmation and he responds with a smiley face, the wide smile kind of smiley face. Typical Max. His teeth flash through my mind. White, glistening teeth, framed by those thin lips and carefully supervised scruff that is so fashionable these days. And I travel behind the pearly teeth, to the mouth that worshipped me, the throat which gave life to his trademark chuckle, the tongue that made me moan. \n The night I met Max I had gotten drunk off my ass, kicked him in the groin and thrown up in his car. He cleaned me up, made sure I was alright and tucked me in, no sleazy moves. Guess that foreshadowed how it was going to be with us, me being the obnoxious, uncontrollable brat and him always cleaning after the mess that is my existence. Lucky I tired him out fast, I guess.\n\nI should've bitten his tongue bloody the first time he kissed me. Scared him away. Save him the trouble, and the pity, and the waste of time that our few months were. \n\nSee, bitterness again. \n\nBut see, that's me. I am bitter, disappointed, jaded and very, very pissed off.\n\nI used to be a happy person. I used to be whole. Or at least,that's what I told myself. It used to be so easy. Easy-peasy.\n\nBut now everything is fading. I am nowhere, nothing. I suppose fading into nothingness is also easy-peasy.\n\n(Just a late night thing, curious to see what reaction it might cause, if any~)\n", "First thing to go is the color. The techs called it a grey-out in the Air Force. From the edges on inwards, the color just fades out from the world around you. Then the light fades out. Tunnel vision.\n\nToo much thrust for too long and you g-LOC. Pass out.\n\nKeep going and you're dead. With each minute of high-g, your chances of stroking out increase. Maybe you had a weak spot in an artery. Something that could've been an aneurysm in thirty or forty years. Maybe it would have been fine.\n\nThen you're under thrust, your blood weighs ten, twelve times what it should. You've got a cocktail of drugs pumping through you, keeping your blood pressure up so your veins don't collapse. Pop. Like a balloon, and you bleed out inside your skin.\n\nOr the meds don't work. A major blood vessel collapses. Maybe you lose a leg. Maybe you end up with a medical discharge from the airforce. \n\nMaybe you were once a hotshot pilot, flying a brand new experimental fast-attack bird. Maybe you saw the solar system, walked through the snows of Europa. Climbed Olympus Mons. \n\nMaybe you were once a god among men. Maybe you're an alcoholic cripple lusting after the good old days.\n\nAlex understood, that son of a bitch. He needed a pilot. I needed to be spaceborne.\n\n\"What the fuck is that, Alex?\n\nI stood in my best friend's workshop, an abandoned warehouse he'd co-opted. In front of me sat the ugliest hunk of metal I'd ever seen.\n\n\"She's a beauty, ain't she? Assembled her myself. Mostly legitimate salvage. Some I had to beg, borrow, and steal.\"\n\n\"Sure. What the fuck is it?\"\n\n\"Our ticket to high society, caviar and champagne. This, my friend is freedom.\"\n\nIt looked like tetanus.\n\n\"Uh huh. But literally, what is it?\"\n\nHe rolled his eyes at me, and muttered something about Philistines.\n\n\"Jet sled. Racing pinnace. She's mostly fuel tanks and engines. I salvaged the engines from an old military wreck around L4. She's damn fast, with the range to take us around the system twice without stopping. I call her 'Look to Windward'. And we're going to race her.\"\n\nFourteen g's pulled my face into a new shape. My internal organs shifted. I held the academy record on the centrifuge. My claim to fame was high-g maneuvers. But fourteen was way too much. I could feel myself fading.\n\n\"Race her? Race her where?\"\n\n\"Some rich pricks are holding a gala. Full of yachts and pleasure craft. Entry fee is my life savings. Grand prize is enough for you and I to retire young on Ganymede. My baby is fast as anything they'll put out. I can navigate the course. I just need a pilot for the close-in work. That's where you come in. I fly us through the void. You do the fancy maneuvering through the checkpoints. We split the prize fifty-fifty.\"\n\nI was so close. On the plotter, I could see the other ships falling behind. The finish line was up ahead, a circle less than a hundred meters in diameter.\n\n\"No. No fucking way am I getting in that knocked together hunk of junk and flying it to Saturn. Never again.\"\n\nThe bastard grinned as I walked away from him. He knew I'd be back.\n\nThat was a month and a half ago. I'd come back.\n\nNow, Alex was dead in a g-couch next to me, and I was rocketing toward the finish line.\n\nAlex died fixing a fuel crossfeed under heavy maneuvering thrust in an artificial cluster in the Belt. The gala organizers dragged thousands of belt rocks into a cluster, and dropped the checkpoint at the heart. I'd never seen anyone stand up under five g before, much less play mechanic. But the bastard did it and collapsed.\n\nIt was another two hours before I could let off thrust to get to him. He was already dead.\n\nLook to Windward was closing on the last boat. I made one last course correction, placing her on a curve that would take her right through the center of the ring. Even at fourteen g's, I wasn't closing fast enough.\n\nBut Alex was a hell of an engineer, and it was well past time to show these bastards what he could do.\n\nWith a tap of my fingers, I opened the throttle the rest of the way. The little ship surged forward, oversized military engines providing more thrust than anything manned should ever be able to do. A needle pricked my jugular as my suit pushed more drugs into me, fighting to keep me conscious.\n\nWith finish line a few thousand kilometers away, and my ship closing on the last of its competition, I faded to black.", "It all fades.\n\nThe sun sinks into the horizon\n\nThe river erodes the shore\n\nThe wind chips away mountains\n\nIn time, it all fades.\n\nThe ancient tree crumbles to loam\n\nThe wise man's bones to dust\n\nThe red shirt pales to pink in the wash\n\nIn time, it all fades.\n\nYou need\n\nColorfast^(tm) Laundry Detergent\n\nKeep your colors bright\n\nAnd your whites white\n\nLive forever.\n\nColorfast^(tm)" ]	3
When i say different styles that could be if you need a group or if you can do it solo, if you can make lesser effects fast or if you need a moment but can create bigger effects. another difference could be what kinds of effect each genre can create.	[WP] It turns out you can use magic by playing music. Each genre results in a different style of magic.	[ "\"His heart's not beating, somebody get help!\" A young woman kneeled over an elderly man. He had suddenly collapsed in the middle of the diner; tragic, as he seemed perfectly fine when he first got here.\n\n\"Christ, not again. Hold on, I got this.\" He fumbled around his person for something. Which pocket was it in? His coat? His jacket? Pants? Man, if it weren't so could out today he wouldn't have had to layer up and this wouldn't be an issue.\n\nAh, there we go. His iPod and earbuds. Not much juice in it left, but he wouldn't need it for long anyway. He double-checked the L and R on the little bits of plastic, then shoved them into his ears.\n\nNow, where's that song...oh, yes, here we go.\n\n> Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk I'm a woman's man, no time to talk\n\n> Music loud and women warm, I've been kicked around since I was born\n\n> Now it's all right, it's okay, I'll live to see another day\n\n> We can try to understand the New York Times' effect on man...\n\n\"Gah! Get these faggots out of my ear.\" Life suddenly returned to the old man, and he wasn't happy with the voices of three high-pitched British men doing it in his ear. He ripped the cords out of his ears and climbed up back into his booth. Good riddance.\n\nThe entire diner broke out in applause and cheer, and the young man received his meal on the house. To this day, hospitals play Bee Gees albums to help patients recover.", "\"The beauty of Dies Irae, one man singing it is lethal as it is.\" The Director leaned forward, a sparkle in his eye. Many called that sparkle madness, but I... I call it genius. \"But an entire Symphonic Regiment... Brilliant in it's destructive capabilities Fräulein!\"\n\n\n\n\"Of course Herr Director!\" Assistant Director Claus responded. \"They will not be able to stand against our abilities! Too bad we cannot yet use the Wunderwaffe against the dissedents!\"\n\n\n\n\"I wouldn't be so sure Miss Claus. They have been becoming more powerful.\" I said, adjusting my bass regalia cap. \"That last fortress actually put up something approaching a fight.\"\n\n\n\n\"Ooh, your bassy tones are music to mien ears my little sweet Niedlich. I shall rejoice in finally seeing experimental weapon *NO.9* in action.\" She spun around, giddy, while the frills on the skirt of her Marcher's uniform swayed in the wind.\n\n\n\n\"You would wish to see our ultimate weapon used so soon?\" I said questioningly, finally getting my Marcher's uniform neatly settled upon my body.\n\n\n\n\"You wouldn't, Herr Kiëdler?\" She needled, giggling.\n\n\n\n\"Shoosh you two. Cease your prattling.\" The Director snapped out his baton, smiling. That horrific, amazing glint in his eye. \"The time is right. I shall begin.\"\n\n\n\nHe tapped the baton three times upon the podium and raised his hands. And so it began.\n\n\n\nDies iræ, dies illa\nSolvet sæclum in favilla,\nTeste David cum Sibylla.\n\n\n\nThe streams of magic whipped their way through the air, arching towards the resistance. The choir forming the main component of the magical energy while the rest of the orchestra supported their efforts, binding in the air to form a beautiful hue of colors. It arched in the sky, bucking against the control of the musicians below it.\n\n\n\nQuantus tremor est futurus,\nQuando Judex est venturus,\nCuncta stricte discussurus!\n\n\n\n\"Ah, look at the beauty!\" Claus laughed shrilly. \"I commend the Choral section especially, they are absolutely outdoing themselves today!\" \n\n\n\nI grunted in agreement.\n\n\n\n\"And look, nothing. They don't even come out to fight.\" Claus laughed and brought out her own baton. \"Release the attack!\" \n\n\n\nTuba mirum spargens sonum,\nPer sepulchra regionum,\nCoget omnes ante thronum.\n\n\n\nWaving her baton towards the enemy, the raw energy flew through the air. Like a lightning bolt, it arched through the air, flying up and down. Different lights jockeyed for position as the energy thickened and flew towards it's target.\n\n\n\nMors stupebit et natura,\nCum resurget creatura,\nJudicanti responsura.\n\n\n\n\"Nothing.\" Claus said while directing the energy towards the base, her lip pouty, the lone red flag fluttering in the wind. \"How boring.\"\n\n\n\n\"STEP UP YO GAME! NIGGA!\"\n\n\n\nGonna continue this later. Got work to do right now.", "\nThe colors flashing, bass bumping, filling hearts with energy and life. \n\nThe guitar strings vibrate, fast and high, laying down the fires so hot and bright. \n\nAs the lips move fast rattling the mic, forcing the other into submission, with words as dark as night. \n\nWith a choir so soft and smooth bringing everyone into the mood, making hearts grow bright as that velvet melody carries them into the night. \n\nAs the men swing about the stage, dancing around like it all the rage, making old hearts feel young, taking the old to a place they belong.\n\nPlaying that that piano light as a feather moving to a crescendo that make things feel dire, quickly descending you into a realm of hell fire, or carrying you higher and higher." ]	3
	[WP] A psychiatric patient who was recently lobotomized finds his consciousness trapped in total isolation with no access to outside world doomed to suffer for the rest of his life.	[ "Oh. Nothing. Great. Now I needed that. I really needed that. Thank you, Dr. Papadopoulos. So what do I do now? I should call for help. HELP! Anyone? Ha, what should I expect from those people who wanted to neutralize me? Right? I mean, it was obvious they all did their best to make me fall. Me, the greatest man ever. They had to use the worst methods to bring me down! That, I take much pride of! Now, please, let me revel in my shining honor for a moment. \n\n... \n\nYou still there? I hope so. I don't believe you're gone, so I'm going to keep talking. Oh, talking... More like thinking aloud, am I right? I can't talk anymore. I don't even feel anything. They could be beating my body to death and I'd be none the wiser. Not like I felt anything more before this botch of an operation, though. Anyway, let's see the bright side: nobody will ever disturb me again! That's great! I can do all sorts of things that require concentration! Like... Like what exactly? Let me think... \n\n... \n\nOh, I know! I shall relieve my boredom by thinking a book! A book about what? Hmm... A man is believed to be crazy, but in fact he's sane and everyone wants to get him but he escapes and lives a free life! Perfect. Let's start. \"In a dark corridor, he lied on an hospital bed, tied by leather belts. No man had felt more fear than him at this moment, and when the dark and deformed figure of a doctor, holding instruments of torture, appeared on the doorway, he thought his heart was going to give up. And actually, he willed for it to stop at once.\" Haha! Nice! I got the dark and mysterious feeling right on point! Now I only need to... \n\n... \n\nWait, what words did I use, exactly? I think it started like that: \"In a dark corridor, he was tied on a bed in an hospital.\" Hmm, no, that wasn't it. Maybe... \"In a dark corridor, a bed tied an hospital with leathery people.\" Is that a better version of my story? It is! People are tying hospitals! With leather, coming from their body! Maybe their body are leather... My body is leather! This is why I'm locked in here, alone in the dark, because I can't see anything! I'm leather. LEATHER! LEATHER LEATHER LEATHER LEATHER LEATHER LEATHER LEATHER \n\nLEATHER \n\nPLEASE someone HELP me FREE me FROM this HELL^HELL^HELL^HELL HELL \n\nFREE ME \n\nKILL \n\nME \n\n. \n.. \n... \n\n\nOh wow, I think I just had some kind of crisis. Sorry, people. I didn't want to scare you. So, where was I? Oh, right. \"In a dark corridor...\"", "They said they are disappointed with me. I try! I can do things, I can read! I go dancing and am polite and I do everything they say! Father still doesn't like me. He doesn't want me to meet with people anymore. I remember the last time that happened. I wrote about it in my diary: \n\n\"Went to luncheon in the ballroom in the White House. James Roosevelt took us in to see his father, President Roosevelt. He said, 'It's about time you came. How can I put my arm around all of you? Which is the oldest? You are all so big.'\"\n\nFather says I'm 'moody'. Thats not my fault! He doesn't think that I'm 'proper' enough. I'm proper! But when he always yells at me and says that I'm stupid I don't like it! I sit in my room and I cry, because so matter how hard I try, no matter how hard I work, he never lets me go out when I want to, he never lets me do what I want! I get to appear like a pretty showpiece everywhere, but nobody ever listens to me. I wrote about it in my diary:\n\n\"Have a fitting at 10:15 Elizabeth Arden. Appointment dress fitting again. Home for lunch. Royal tournament in the afternoon.\"\n\nI feel like every day fewer and fewer people care about me, care about who I am or what I think. Father doesn't listen to me anymore, god knows. He thinks I'm a lost cause. He doesn't know what it feels like to be me! Every day I do the same things. Every day I see the same people, the people that my father thinks it is okay for me to be around. I hate it! Here's a day in my diary:\n\n\"Up too late for breakfast. Had it on deck. Played Ping-Pong with Ralph's sister, also with another man. Had lunch at 1:15. Walked with Peggy. also went to horse races with her, and bet and won a dollar and a half. Went to the English Movie at five. Had dinner at 8:45. Went to the lounge with Miss Cahill and Eunice and retired early.\"\n\nI live a useless life. But Father said that would change. He said that once I visit Mr. Freeman, I would be better. I don't like doctors but he said that it was really important. I knew that I didn't have a choice.\n\nI don't know what happened. He put me to sleep and now I am alone. He said that it was experimental. He came up to us in his van with his surgeon friend and I remember father saying that it was worth the risk.\n\nWhat was I? A disobedient pawn? Was I so strange that he couldn't bear to see me anymore? Is this what he asked Mr. Freeman to do to me?\n\nThere is nobody here. Nobody listens to me, not even Peggy. \n\nI am alone.\n\nNothing I do matters anymore. \n\nHe abandoned me.\n\nEveryone did." ]	2
	[WP] An angel has now been exiled from both Heaven and Hell.	[ "Apparently causing one little tiny apocalypse is enough to get one fired in that town, and not just fired, but black listed. I mean c'mon...they were asking for it, they wanted it. They made movies and tv shows and wrote book after book about it and so I was gracious enough to give it to them and I'm the bad guy? It's like Christmas every day for the surviving fleshies!\n\nLook! hey You up there take a look down here! You see that? That's some happy go lucky fleshie running for his life in his very own real life video game! Real life makes for such better graphics! These guys are eating it up (no pun intended, heh). \n\nCheck it out Lucy, these dudes would trade their soul for a twinkie, see, you see how much easier I've made your job? What is with you guys? \n\nOkay okay, so maybe it was slightly above my pay grade to end the world this way but the guys on the job were taking way too long. Let's face it, zombies made a lot of people happy, global warming just bums everyone out. I did it for the fleshies, You love the fleshies, they wanted this Man! \n\nAh! Get off of me! I don't have any internal organs for you to munch on you rotting fleshie. Sheesh. Shoulda made them a little smarter..stupid dead fleshies. Oh yeah, hey You! You up there! I made them stupid and slow! I did that so your lovely little fleshies could kill em off easily enough! I didn't know fleshies are just as stupid and slow alive as they are dead. It's not my fault they panic and act a fool! It's not my fault! I gave them what they wanted! \n\nFine, pft, who needs that job, or any job for that matter. I'll just hang out here for awhile. I don't care. At least the fleshies are happy..well kind of. \n\nOh knock it off fleshie, He is not gonna save you, quit your whining and just take the bite like a man. Jeez, fleshies are such ungreatful babies. \n", "LIMBO\n\nAuthor's Foreword: Felt like something short as I wrote something with a similar theme recently. Just playing around with an idea. Wrote this first draft at work in an email then copy pasted - apologies for any errors or formatting.\n\n___________________________\n\nThey cast me down from the brilliant white above, clipped my wings and called me demon. My bloody feathers rained down like roses mixed with snow.\n\nThey raised me up from the blazing black below, healed my wounds and called me angel. My goodness blinded their evil hearts like the sun.\n\nBut I am no angel. I am no demon.\n\nI am too wicked for the heavens, and too righteous for the hells. I sin because I was made to, but I do good because I strive to. I am banished to the in-between, stuck in a limbo called World.\n\nI am the fallen angel. The righteous demon.\n\nMy name is Man.\n", "\"That's what happens when you drink, shit starts pourin out of yo mouth and then your ass\". She always knew how to make me feel better. When you are immortal. You start seeing time in a completely opposite way to most humans, You try to waste it as much as possible, every dull, repetitive second. long visits to the toilet that leave purple marks on your legs. Heck, I picked up Spanish just so I could get into telenovelas. But the best way to fight time is to drink, drink often and drink a lot.\n\n\nI can hardly remember my previous worlds, fractions, glued fraction from my endless incarnations. lights, faces, boiling cauldrons.\n\n\nThat's what I miss the most about heaven and hell, forgetting, being constantly reborn is the only way to keep sane. People always think that heaven and hell are dichotomous. Rubbish, the human mind is malleable. if it only knows pain its entire life or only knows pleasure is insignificant. It would would always settle for pretty much the same ratio of happiness vs misery. In that regard heaven and hell or indistinguishable. \n\n\nSo I drink, I drink often and I drink a lot. And I talk, I talk often and I talk a lot. to anyone who would listen, as if saying the words would make them leave my mind, those persistent cancerous words, once they enter your ear, crawl up your brain and just lodge there, squatting in your memories.\n\n\nOh well, for what god calls a punishment and what satan calls a joke, fuck'em both. I got Sally to knock on my toilet door, and when she's dead, I'd find another Sally. And when all Sallys are gone, I'd just sit here and vomit my stories towards the encroaching sun. Maybe then I could come back and forget. \n\n\n" ]	3
Like for example, you say 'I like peanutbutter' and it means 'we are go for the attempt on the Queen'.	[WP] During casual conversation with a stranger at a bus stop, you accidentally utter a pass-phrase that, to the stranger, means something.	[ "\"I can smell my armpits\", I thought to myself, and just as the words passed through my mind I could hear myself saying them out aloud. I looked up, hoping for no one else at the bus stop to have noticed, but the look I got from the elderly gentleman behind me left no doubt. He was dressed in a cheap suit, and carefully took two steps away from me while typing on his phone.\n\nGreat, I thought, this time managing to keep the words in my head. I should not have gone out last night. Should not have gone out last night. The mere thought of last night made my stomach turn, and I had to take a deep breath of cold air just to settle it. The air tasted like vomit. I looked down, wishing that I had my phone or something else to focus my gaze on. The ground was still spinning and there was something stuck to my shoe. I had to close my eyes and take another deep breath for the world to calm down a bit.\n\n\"Your armpits smell like raspberries\", a voice near me suddenly said. I looked up, and a girl with long, dark hair stood in front of me. She was pretty, and I was confused. As soon as the meaning of her words hit me, I burst out laughing, and I realized that I in no way was completely sober yet. She laughed too, then smiled. The girl was very pretty, and the part of my brain that had somehow survived the efforts of the night before were racing to come up with a funny reply. Unfortunately my lips betrayed me once again, and the words I uttered were the first ones that came to mind.\n\n\"You move silently\", I said, and somewhere in the back of my head my last few remaining brain cells decided to call it a day. The girl said nothing, but leaned in as if to give me a hug. To my surprise, she did give me a hug. She was not as tall as me, leaving her nostrils approximately at the height of my aforementioned armpits. I awkwardly patted her back, wondering if she was ill, had a weird fetish or was preparing to stab me. Without uttering another word she turned around and left.\n\n\"Nice\", the elderly man behind me said, seemingly impressed. I watched the girl turn a corner and disappear from view just as the bus arrived.\n\nI was late for work, but without my phone there was no way to call ahead and get someone to cover for me. As I sat down on the seat I absentmindedly checked my pockets for my phone, and was very surprised to actually find one. The phone looked just like the one I had left at home, but seemed heavier, somehow.\n\nDid I steal this phone last night? My memories from the night before were hazy to say the least, and now the anxiety was getting to me. I had woken up on the bathroom floor, mouth parched and every part of my body aching, just to realize that I was late for work. Then the whole affair with the crazy armpit girl happened, and now I was on the bus with a stolen phone. I pressed the power button and saw that an app was running. There was no pin required, no logo or any information, just a display button with the word pause written on it.\n\nI pressed the button on the display and immediately felt sick. There was no way to stop it, there was no time to wait. This was happening, and it was happening now. It was mostly liquids, and even though the taste of stomach acid was overwhelming I could smell the sickening sweet odour of Jägermeister, causing me to dry heave a few more times. Come on! You’re 32 years old! my inner voice screamed furiously. My inner voice had no reply. Then the shame came washing over me. I felt ashamed, filthy and sick. I wanted to go home. I wanted to shower, sleep, eat and possibly return this stolen phone.\n\nI noticed that the bus had stopped, and dreaded to look up to meet the gaze of a furious bus driver and the disgusted passengers. Without the engine noise the bus was quiet, and the only sound that was to be heard was the sound of droplets of sick making their way down the steps to the bus door. I looked up. The man in the cheap suit was still here, looking at his phone. A woman leaned hear head against the window a couple of seats in front of me. None of them were looking at me. All was quiet.\n\nI stood up, turned around, and saw two teenagers staring in my direction, but something was wrong. Their eyes were glassy, unmoving. The man in the suit was still staring at his phone, the woman still with her head against the window, and the bus driver had not moved from his seat. I looked out the window. The bus had not pulled over, but just stopped in the middle of the road. There were cars behind and cars ahead of us, but no car horns to be heard. Suspended in the air outside was a torn plastic bag. Unmoving.\n\nI felt dizzy and sat back down in my seat. I clutched the phone in my hand, looking at the display. It was different now. The button said resume.\n", "The bus is late. I hate it when the bus is late. Sometimes, it annoys me so much, I kick the busstop. I know I shouldn't. It is not the busdriver's fault that he is late. I still need to kick something. I get aggressive.\n\nI can't. There is a girl next to me. She is waiting too. She is also annoyed. There's something perky about the way she displays her annoyance; head high, eyes forward and a pleasant lingering smile on her lips. I always look far too neutral when I wait on the busstop.\n\n\"The bus is late,\" she says. \"I don't like busses that are late. They always feel dirty.\" \n\nI can only nod. \"That is true, but luckily it is not raining today.\" \n\nShe looks my way now, pose bent forward, nails pointing to her palms. \"You could use a shower.\" \n\n\"Pardon?\" I say. \"Are you telling me...\"\n\n\"No,\" her voice is level, almost secretive. \"I am offering you a shower. I am quite sure whatever you are going to is not important enough anyway.\"\n\nI think of my parents. They had hoped I would stop by today, but they were only counting on me tomorrow. She does had a point.\n\"It is not the destination that matters, they sometimes say,\" I reply.\n\n\"Then it is time for some adventure.\" \n\nShe takes my hand and pulls me with her. We walk across the street and enter a small apartment building. My heart is racing as I follow her; what is she going to do to me? Why am I falling for this? Is this really happening?\n\nIt is. We enter her apartment, she opens the shower curtain and turns the shower on. In the hallway she starts to strip and after a moment's hesitation I follow. We enter the shower and she hugs me close. Strangely close to a stranger. She smells very nice. An attractive girl and we are in the shower.\n\nThere's no water coming out, I notice. It is something more fluid. I realize it smells of lubricant. I feel our bodies close together, sliding across each other with the greatest of ease. If I felt discomfort with the situation before, that sense now explodes.\n\nThen the floor disappears and we are falling. Every time I hit the side of the brightly lit metal tube, the lubricant keeps us going. We are moving faster and faster and faster. Until I can barely hear my own thoughts in my head.\n\nThen the tube ends and I am falling. I barely contain the rising panic in my mind before we hit the water. I sink briefly beneath the surface before rising once again.\n\n\"Welcome to the U.S.E. Pandora, sir,\" the girl said, slowly dressing into a suit of black fabric. \"We are all ready for you to take command.\" \n\nWith some surprise I look out of the window. Earth is there, but far away. The moon is also visible as a shining white orb. I feel the artificial gravity take hold.\n\n\"We are all ready to take your orders, sir,\" a number of other men and women step forward.\n\nI take two steps out of the pool before I faint.", "Benjamin Miller walked up to the bus stop, yawning and gripping his cup of joe tightly in his right hand. Another typical Monday. He sat down on the bench next to a young woman dressed in a sundress and flip flops. She was typing away on her phone, and Ben assumed she was texting someone. She looked up and gave him a smile and a “morning,” then returned to her phone. “ Morning to you as well,” Ben replied. “Very nice weather today. I hear a heat wave is coming Wednesday. Hopefully it’s not too rough.” “Ya I saw that on the news last night. It was great over the weekend. That rain on Saturday was much needed,” the woman replied. “Ya it was a wild downpour for a while. My tree in my yard fell over. And my basement flooded.” Suddenly the woman jerked up from her phone. She stared straight at Ben, then said curtly, “What did you just say?” Ben looked at her funny, then repeated “My basement flooded.” “That’s what I thought. Welcome to the United States, Mr. President. If you’ll come with me, we’ll be moving you to a safe house downtown. From there, we can get you into the protective custody of the Secret Service.” “What?” Ben replied, flabbergasted. “My name is Agent Sophia McIntosh of the FBI. I’m going to put this bag over your head to protect your identity. We’re going to move you to that car on the far corner.” Before Ben could say or do anything, the woman slipped a black bag over his head then manhandled him, moving him briskly across the street. Ben couldn’t see a thing through the bag, and tripped over the curb. “Careful, sir. Try to act natural,” the woman said as she pulled him onto his feet and kept him moving. After a few steps, Ben heard the doors of a car opening, then he heard a gruff, masculine voice say “Hurry up. Get him in the car. Some Al-Wazari militants have been spotted in the city. They know he’s here. We’ve gotta get him downtown now.” Ben was marched into the car and sat down, and someone buckled his seatbelt for him. “What’s going on?” Ben cried through the bag. “What was that sir? I couldn’t hear you through the bag,” came the muffled voice of Sophia. “What the hell is going on? Who are you people?” Ben repeated. “Don’t worry sir, we’re moving now. I’ll take the bag off.” Suddenly, Ben heard a series of muffled thunks on the outside of the car. “Shots fired. Get going now!!” The gruff man shouted. Ben heard a screech of tires, then the car shot off. Ben was thrown into the back of the seat as the car sped off. He could feel as the car took a series of rapid turns. He heard more thunks behind him, and he instinctively ducked. “They’re still on us! Thank god for the bulletproof glass. McIntosh, return fire!” Ben heard a window open, then a loud series of gunshots. Sophia was leaning out the window, firing back at the pursuers. Then, he felt a body fall on top of him. A warm, liquid sensation spread across his lap. “McIntosh! Agent down, repeat, Agent down. Get the medics ready at the safe house!” A crackling voice responded as if through a radio: “Yes, Sir!” “I’ll take them out myself.” Ben heard another window open, this time as if above him. He heard a grunt, then a loud, blasting roar. The man was firing a mounted machine gun out the top of the truck. “Holy shit!” Ben cried to himself. The window closed, then the man said, “They’re gone sir. I got ‘em. We’re almost to the safe house.” Ben heard a garage door open, then the car slowed to a stop. A door opened, then the weight was lifted off his lap. “She’s hit in the chest and arm. Take her to a hospital. Hold on Sophe, you’ll be fine.” Then, Ben was once again manhandled, pulled out of the car and marched across a room. He was sat down onto a comfy couch, then the bag was finally pulled off his head. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light, and looked up to see himself seated in front of a grizzled, middle aged man in a black and white suit. The man had a gun on his hip and a toothpick in his mouth. “Hello Mr. President. I’m glad you’re alright.” He turned around and beckoned two other suited men forward. They handed the man a folder, then backed away. “Holy shit. Those plastic surgeons did a hell of a job. You don’t look anything like you used to. How did they get the skin pigmentation to look so natural?” “What are you talking about? Where am I? Who are all of you?” “What are you talking about, sir? We’re the FBI unit assigned to protect you.” “Protect me? Why? What did I do?” “How could you forget? We’re taking you to New York to talk to the UN.” “What?” “Wait a minute. You are Adisa Mamballoun, President of Nigeria? The President targeted by the Nigerian rebel group Al-Wazari? The group leading a civil war in Nigeria. You’re here to give a speech to the United Nations about the atrocities committed by Al-Wazari and to ask for UN assistance to take back your country? That’s you right?” “What? No. I’m Benjamin Miller. I’m from Idaho. I’m a paralegal at Booz Allen Hamilton. I have no idea who you’re talking about. I’ve never been to Nigeria! Please explain why people are shooting at me!” “Oh god Fucking damnit. Sophia grabbed the wrong guy. How did this happen? Did you say the key phrase?” “What?” “Did you at any point today tell Sophia that your basement flooded?” “Ya, it did! I had to bring everything upstairs to save it. There’s still a foot of water in my basement.” “God damnit. So where’s the President?” The man turned to his men. “Sweep the city. We’ve got the wrong man. If only we knew what he looked like. Hurry damnit.!” Meanwhile, across town, a tall, dark-skinned man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and sandals was walking up to random people at a bus stop saying “my basement flooded! My basement flooded!”" ]	3
	[WP] A 911 call so disturbing that the operator does not remain calm.	[ "'911 state your emergency' \n\nFor a few brief seconds all that could be heard was the heavy breath of the caller. \n\nShe repeated, 'Hello? 911 State your emergency'\n\nUntil finally, the inaudible static broke, 'Hello Jen.' Her eyes opened wide as her jaw fell and the pores on her neck stiffened, cold. 'what's wrong? Hello?' \n\nThere was no doubt as to the identity of the man, one word and Jen was taken back to her previous life, a life of torture and misery, a life with him. \n\n'where are you.' The words left her mouth, shacking, unable to mask the fright in her heart. \n\n'At home of course. It took some effort breaking down the door though, I told you I would be needing a spare key sooner or later.' The cold voice shifted, resembling a more lighthearted tone as if taking part in banter.' \n\nAll of a sudden it dawned on her, she murmured to herself with increasing panic, 'oh god the kids...' \n\n'Oh the kids! Yeah they're fine. We spent a few hours playing in the backyard, How many years has it been, five? Billy's grown quite a lot, and Sarah is so adorable! Its just a shame I didn't get to spend more time with them. That's OK though, now we have time to catch up as well!'\n\nAs he stood, waiting for a response, all the caller heard was a loud thump and the sound of distant screams. \n\n\n", "You work in an emergency call centre, as you have been for the past nine years. It's not exactly what you wanted to do, but it pays the bills on your rental apartment and allows you the little luxuries in your spare time. \n\nToday is like any other day, you take calls from distressed members of the public, you attempt to help them, whilst you connect them with the relevant department. You take the calls all day, your once boiling hot coffee is now half drunk and cold. \n\nYour co-worker who sits across from you, the one you like, is not feeling so well today so has taken off and asked if you can cover their calls. You oblige, because you're that type of person. \n\nThe calls stream in as the day turns to night and you aren't really sure if your shift has ended. You become slowly aware that the office, once filled with a thousand voices, is now empty bar from you. You keep taking the calls. It's your job after all, if no one else is there to help - who will? You're just that type of person, remember?\n\nYou forget what it means to be tired, all the voices in distress seem to merge into one. That is until you receive the call from me, the one you have been waiting for, perhaps all your life. My voice is not like all the others, I am not in a frenzied panic, I am calm, collected and comforting. \n\nI don't need help. I'm here to help you. You hang up the phone like I ask you. You take none of the voices with you, except for mine. We keep taking you and I, you soon forget about the voices - the people who need your help. This is unlike you, you are normally that type of person, but today who can say what kind of person you are? \n\nThe thought quickly passes. Let's go for a walk. ", "Most 911 calls aren't emergencies. You might think of the 911 as something sacred, something only to call during- you know- an emergency. But most calls are minor complaints of perceived illegal offenses. And, just in case you didn't know, most Americans don't actually have a solid grasp of the law.\n\nWesley Greene moved to Phoenix Arizona this year. He got a dual major in Criminal Justice and Law in Colorado, not knowing or caring exactly what he would do with it. The move to Phoenix was, more than anything, to get away from his alcoholic mother and argumentative siblings. Since their dad died (he got fired, got angry, got drunk, got driving, got wrecked) the family's been falling apart, so Wesley escaped through schoolwork and now has successfully made it to an apartment in a distant city where he lays up at night wondering since he doesn't drink what exactly gets him off.\n\nToday, 911 operator Wesley Greene has received:\n\n * A call from an angry customer kicked out of a restraint for being too loud, believing this was a violation of his rights. He definitely sounded drunk.\n * A call from a girlfriend who, during a fight with her boyfriend, threatened to call 911 if he brought up her ex again because this was verbal abuse (I know this might not make sense to you, but she had a lengthy argument which Wesley Greene had to patiently listen to- his attempts of \"this line is for emergencies only\" not withstanding). She sounded a bit drunk, too.\n * A call about a stolen watch. To be fair, this is technically a crime, but 911 isn't where you go to report things like this.\n\nThis is a typical day for Wesley. And only the first two hours of his shift have passed.\n\nOccasionally he receives health calls and must dispatch ambulances. These are enough to shake him up, though honestly he prefers these calls. They're exciting, they're why he got the job, they're what makes him feel like he's helping people as he tells them to \"Stay calm, make sure [whoever it is] is breathing, we are on our way.\" \n\nYesterday while laying in his apartment Wesley reflected on the irony of this, that he prefers to hear people in distress. He mused that must be what gets him off, what he looks forward to, some action through the telephone. Not only because of the helping people, but because each time he hears an idiot call he looses a little bit more faith in Americans. \"We can't all be idiots,\" he thought, thinking of his family and country. \n\nAnother call.\n\n\"911, what is your emergency?\"\n\n\"Hello? Yes? Can you hear me?\"\n\nHeavy breathing. Like he's been running. Wesley sat up.\n\n\"I can hear you, what is your emergency?\"\n\n\"Are you sure you can hear me? Because I need you to listen. I don't know where I am.\"\n\n\"Sir, can you describe your situation to me? We can track your location from here.\"\n\n\"No,\" he breathed, \"Tell me that you can hear me!\"\n\n\"Yes, I can hear you.\"\n\nThe noise from the phone stopped. Not just that the man went silent, it sounded like the line died. Wesley checked, nope, he was still connected. \n\n\"Sir, are you there?\"\n\nThere was a beat. One of Wesley's coworkers looked at him with curious concern. Then:\n\n\"Oh... what were you expecting when the phone rang this time?\"\n\nA completely different voice, harsher, with words slightly slurred. And the background noise changed, too. \n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"What were you expecting? Another 'idiot'? Did that rushed voice get you excited?\"\n\nWesley looked around, this was getting threatening.\n\n\"Sir-\"\n\n\"I need you to tell me what you were hoping for here Wesley.\"\n\nHow does he know his name?\n\n\"Because you see Wesley, I'm driving, and-\" the man burped- \"I'm actually pretty good at it, despite what you or Mom say when I'm drinking. If I were to crash right now, don't think it has anything to do with the booze. What I am doing right now, right now I am not about to die because of some drunk driving, don't right me off that easily Wesley, I am not an idiot here I heard what you said last night...\"\n\n\"Who is this?\" Wesley's coworker was now watching with serious concern; Wesley's face was white and eyes were wide.\n\n\"Oh, you know that. And the real questions you should be asking if you were smart are how this correspondence here is taking place, but that probably isn't too important-\n\nThat voice you heard earlier, I don't know who it was either but it called me too. All it wants is for us to listen to each other, maybe this is a test, or a divine intervention or something because he knows where I'm driving to Wesley, I think he,\n\nWell, you know what he wants. He knows where I'm driving to, he wants you to talk me out of it, but you aren't really talking much here at all Wesley...\"\n\nWesley opened his mouth but didn't say anything, then he heard,\n\n\"Oh, great load of help you are-\", And then CRASH and Wesley snapped and yelled \"DAD!\" at the top of his lungs standing up in the office with all of his coworkers staring at him. The line broke. Wesley had some tears coming down his look-like-you've-seen-a-ghost face. He'd have some stuff to think about at the apartment tonight.", "911: 911, What is your emergency?\n\nCaller: Little Timmy says hi.\n\n911: Excuse me? Sir we do not appreciate prank calls, do you have an emergency? \n\nCaller: Oh this isn't a prank call. There is an emergency, but it isn't mine. It's yours Tabitha. I have Timmy.\n\n911: How...how did you know my name? And what have you done with my child?\n\nCaller: Oh I haven't done anything to little Timmy yet. But He'll be losing one finger every hour, starting in about two minutes. Unless of course, you can give me what I want.\n\n911: What do you want? Oh God please don't hurt my son!\n\nCaller: I want my life back. You're the dispatcher that sent the police to my house last month. I lost everything, and they've been searching for me for weeks.\n\n911: I don't know how to do that...just don't hurt my son!!\n\nCaller: You might want to figure that out Tabitha, because Timmy is losing his left pinky finger as we speak.\n\nMuffled Screams\n\n911: PLEASE GOD NO!!!", "“I’m holding your father’s hand,” he said. His tongue curled around the s like a hissing snake.\n\n“Who is this?” I asked. I knew it must be a crank, you can’t choose who you speak to when you dial 9-1-1. “It is a crime to block-up this line.” Still my heart had started beating a little faster. There was something disquieting about his voice.\n\n“His wedding ring is a little scuffed. Let me just…” I could hear his heavy breathing on the other end of the line as his fidgeted with something in his hands. “There we go, that’s a little better,” he said. “I prefer a subtle band. So many men go for the ostentatious, as if a narrow band would make them less of a man.”\n\n“I’m going to need you to get off the line unless you have an emergency.” I always gave the cranks a little leeway. Sometimes you never know, and I didn’t want to find out later they were truly in distress. “Please state your emergency.”\n\n“Oh there’s no emergency here. I just admiring the small tattoo on the webbing of your father’s hand.” My heart bounced against my chest. “Tell me, what do you think it means?” \n\nThe world stopped for a moment and I could taste the bile rising in my throat. How could he know? “My father has no such tattoo,” I said.\n\n“Oh come now,” he replied. “Let’s not play games.” I couldn’t think. Lights flashed at the corners of my vision and the colour was draining from the room “A butterfly. How unusual.”\n\n“What do you want?” I asked. I could hear the tremble in my voice and tried to still the panic rising inside me. “What are you doing with my father?”\n\n“Oh I left your father hours ago. All I have is his hand.”", "It's funny how a phone-call can drive you to the end of your rope. An impersonal break-up, an angry superior at work, perhaps a loved one of yours has died. No matter the cause, you might find yourself angry, enraged with the hand you have been dealt.\n\nJustin looked up at the wall clock, an old, black behemoth that would have been more fitting in a high-school classroom than the dark dispatch office. He was a 911 dispatcher, as despite the increasing fast pace of our lives with technology, your life still hangs in the balance of a regular human being, sitting at his desk.\n\nThe time was 3:45AM, fifteen minutes until the end of his shift. He had been dealt a poor hand today, listening to two women crying into the phone while their abusive, usually drunk boyfriends beat them half to death. It's hard when you hear the first blow. It's harder when you hear later that one of them didn't make it.\n\nHe glanced into his drawer, reaching towards the back for a pack of cigarettes, crumpled and slightly dusty with age, before stopping himself.\n\nI quit three months ago, Justin thought to himself.\n\nAnd just then, his phone began to ring.\n\n\"911, what is your emergency?\"\n\n\"Hello sir. Would you like to play a game?\"\n\n\"Sir, what is your emergency? I must remind you that prank calls are a misdemeanor offense.\"\n\n\"This is no prank, dispatcher. There's a lovely young woman sitting right here, she's part of the game. There are some lovely tools near me, these are also part of the game. And if you don't want to play my game, it appears that these tools will be used in an... *unconventional* method.\"\n\n\"Sir, where are you located right now?\"\n\n\"Tsk tsk tsk. I'm afraid you'll have to work for your reward, old boy. Unless you'd like me to hang up right now, in which case I can gut this poor girl with an electric carving knife, right now.\"\n\nJustin stared at his screen in disbelief of what he saw. Whomever was calling him could not be traced. He decided it best, then, to go along with this man's \"game\", and see if he could find any clues on where he might be.\n\n\"Alright... I'll play your deluded game.\"\n\n\"What is your name?\"\n\nJustin hesitated for a moment, then decided against it. This woman's life, whoever she might be, hangs in the balance because of his answers.\n\n\"My name is Justin.\"\n\n\"A charming name. I'd tell you mine, but that would take some of the sport out of this, don't you think? I digress. Let us begin.\"\n\nJustin was nervous, angry even. What if this could happen to his wife? There are so many fucked-up people in the world, what if one of them finds her someday?\n\n*\"Tonight's game will be a little trivia match, provided by yours truly. If you answer a question correctly, you get increasingly specific answers about my location. If you answer incorrectly, who knows what I'll do? Smash a toe with a hammer? Slice off an ear? Oh, there are so many, many* options...\"*\n\nJustin, already at what was supposed to be the end of a very stressful shift, and now having to listen to the insane ramblings of a deranged psychopath, threatening to kill a woman, lost his temper.\n\n\"Just shut your fucking mouth and tell me what you want me to do!\"\n\nThis proved to be an... unwise* decision.\n\nA large thump came from the receiver, followed by muffled sobs.\n\n\"How very rash of you, Justin. You just made me break this poor woman's nose. Perhaps you should be more careful with your words, no? Next time it might be a baseball bat, and not my fist.\"\n\nJustin grinded his teeth and pulled out a cigarette from the crumpled pack.\n\nI quit three months ago, he thought to himself, lighting up the cigarette. But tonight, he had been dealt a very poor hand indeed.\n\n------\nFirst prompt I've ever answered. If there's more interest for a part two, I might make one.", "\"911 what is your emergency?\"\nPlease send a bomb squad quick!\n\"Sir what do you mean?\" \nI work at Lego land Florida and a new one million single block Lego order just arrived\n\"Sir I'm not understanding what happened.\"\nI dropped them all over the place when we were air dropping it to the center of the park. \n\"Are you say there are a million single block Legos all over Legoland?\"\nYes yes I am.\n...\nHello? \n", "\"911, what's your emergency?\"\n\n\nI heard crackling on the other end of the line, like a candy wrapper.\n\n\"911, what's your emergency?\" I asked again, a little more sternly. \n\"Hello? Hello, who is this?\" It was a young mans voice. It sounded familiar, but the voice was strangely garbled.\n\n\"Sir, you have contacted emergency services. Do you have an emergency to report?\" I pushed. \n\nI heard sounds of agony on the other end.\n\n\"Yes. Yes, I have an emergency. I don't know who...or where I am. But... I must have crashed my car, I'm just on the treeline of a small patch of trees now. Aside from that...well, it's dark. I can't see much.\"\n\nI swallowed. This was unusual, even for me.\n\n\"Sir, can you describe your injuries?\" I asked.\n\nI heard a nervous groan. \"My legs are broken. They're just a red bloody mush now, but I can't feel them. I can barely feel anything.\"\n\nEven after years of hearing abused women crying for help and people discovering their loved ones hanging from the ceiling fan this call unsettled me.\n\n\"Okay sir, please try to remain calm. We have tracked your location and emergency medical services are on the way. I'm going to remain on the line with you until help arrives.\" I reassured him.\n\nI heard him exhale slowly. \n\nAfter some time, with him seemingly holding the phone just below his mouth, I heard his breath get closer to the receiver again.\n\n\"Sir, have emergency medical services arrived?\" I asked.\n\nNo answer.\n\n\"Sir?\" \n\nI heard panicked breathing on the other end. My heart dropped with every passing second. Then his voice flickered back in.\n\n\"Wolves. Wolves. There's about a dozen wolves approaching my car, my door won't close....oh God!\" \n\nI heard screaming on the other end, which was eventually covered up by the sounds of snarling and snapping. The screams faded until they stopped.\n\nI pulled off my headset and said a prayer. ", "911: Hello, what is your emergency?\nMe: oh, not really MY emergency per say.\n911: What? Please be more clear sir.\nMe: It all started when I found a matchbook in my grandpas attic, burned it down for no reason.\n911: Umm please state what's wrong.\nMe: Oh sorry I got a bit off track, insanity does that to you. Anyways the bodies are laying in the pile of rubble and ash on 334 cherry ave.\n911: What happened?!\nMe: Oh just a bit of revenge, no one calls me crazy, I'm not a psycho I LOVE SMALL ANIMALS!\n911: Do you need help?! \nMe: No not at all, but I figured I might as well call first.\nBackground voice: uuiuuuuuuugh\nMe: Oh crap. gunshots\n911: WHAT WAS THAT?!\nMe: He wasn't all dead. Goodbye, I need a nap.\n\nafter sending police to 334 cherry rosemary got up and walked away\n ", "\"This is 911, what is your emergency?\" Sally asked, for the fifth time that day.\n\n\"You don't have much time, listen to me,\" a man's raspy voice whispered. Sally jolted a little in her seat as she heard the voice... It sounded oddly... Inhuman. Not that he was an alien or anything, but there was a certain edge to his voice... Something that contained pure panic. \n\n\"Sir... I'm going to need you to calm down... we have police on the way. I'm going to need you to spec-\"\n\n\"STOP! Just stop!\" Im not in trouble, I don't need anyone, I'm just warning you! Their starting with people like you. The government, police, emergency services, you all are going first!\n\n\"Sir...\" Sally hesitated as she tried to make sense of what she just heard. \" I... I don't know what you are talking about... \"\n\n\"Of course you don't! Nobody does!!! I'm the only one who knew it was going to happen! I kept trying and trying to warn you people, but everybody keeps saying I'm insane! Now you fools should be thanking me, but it's too late... their coming soon.\"\n\nSally, at this point, was terrified and just completely creeped out. In all the confusion, she didn't even realize the sound of traffic outside had ceased. \"Alright, what the hell is going on?\" she screamed into her receiver . Sally wanted desperately for it to be a prank call. It had to be a prank call. But the man's voice... That trepidation, that certainty... Could that truly be an act? \n\nHer stomach turned over as the man said two words. \"Good luck.\" \n\nAll of her training, all the years spent staying calm and collected as a 911 operator went away right at that moment. She trembled in panic as she heard a terrifying noise: the front door of the building being kicked down.", "The 911 operator adjusted his headset before speaking.\n\n\"911. What's your emergency?\"\n\nThere was no answer.\n\n\"Hello? Is anyone there?\" The operator lifted a finger and prepared to alert local officers nearby.\n\n\"You have such a pleasant voice,\" said the caller, his monotonous tone causing the operator's finger to halt over the dispatch button. \n\n\"I'm sorry? Sir is there an emergency?\"\n\n\"Not yet, not yet. Truthfully, I've searched so far and wide to find you, to hear you speak,\" said the dull man. There was a faint noise of metal clanking in the background as he spoke. \n\n\"Sir if this is a prank then-\"\n\n\"No no. No prank. There will be an emergency, yes, and I'm going to lead you straight to it. But I want you to hear me out. I want you to listen. Just listen. If only for a little while. That's all. Listen.\"\n\nThe operator fell silent and wondered what to say. There was the faintest suspicion that this was all a ruse; after all, who would be so calm calling 911 this late at night. But the man's voice, something was off about it, yet despite all this it was as captivating and enthralling as an open flame to a moth. \n\nThe operator was ensnared. He listened.\n\n\"There was a man I met a long time ago,\" said the caller, \"a man who was such a joy to listen to and watch. He didn't know how captivating he was to me, but what he showed me--what I found so beautiful and so tragic about him--was that he embodied such admirable persistence in a cruel and unforgiving world.\n\n\"And one thing I realized about this beautiful specimen of a human being was that he was trapped and held back by his life like a bird in a cage. He was charismatic, intelligent, headstrong. And for what? His talents were for naught. They were wasted. Wasted. Absolutely wasted.\"\n\nThe man shuffled around and footsteps could be heard on a hard floor shortly after.\n\n\"And it hit me,\" said the man as if receiving a sudden revelation. \"His cage must be destroyed. He must be unhinged!\"\n\nThe phone fell to the ground and the operator listened in horror as muffled screams of a woman filled the receiver. But why couldn't he say anything? Why couldn't he move? \n\nLike a statue with naught but a throbbing heart, he was petrified by the screams. They were familiar to him.\n\nThe man returned to the phone shortly after and his breathing was audible. \n\n\"This is the first step, Lucas.\"\n\nThe operator's eyes widened as he covered his mouth. He knows my name. He knows. How could he. How.\n\n\"There was something about her holding you back, something that kept you from being free. And I can't be sure what it was but that's no longer relevant. The first chain that's kept you bound for so long has been broken. Aren't you excited, Lucas? This is where the road to enlightenment begins!\"\n\nThe man was so lively now, so eerily joyous and gleeful. And with a trembling hand, Lucas ended the call and pressed the dispatch button. He knew--and he wish he didn't--where the murder happened, and in the deepest recesses of his intuition did he know that the victim was his fiance of 3 years.\n\nMichelle. \n\nAnd as the hot tears ran freely down his cheeks, he adjusted his headset and notified the local officers.\n\n\"Attention patrol units in the Greenspan area,\" he said, fighting back tears, \"possible homicide at 4393 Zero Avenue.\"\n\nHe took a deep breath and stared at the picture of Michelle on his desk. And the more he stared, the more hollow and dead he felt. \n\n\"Units are to be deployed immediately.\"\n\nHe removed his headset and fell from his chair, and he wept on the floor until he couldn't weep anymore.\n\n\n" ]	11
	[WP] You have been immortal for 300 years. Slowly you have become depressed at the fleeting existence of anyone you might call a friend. It's the Early 20th Century now, and you're telling the story of your life, and how you got your immortal groove back.	[ "It was that word, Roanoke. it came to me in a dream, floating on the whispers of a raven's wing. I should have known its evil power then. My blade was dull and it took longer than necessary to etch the word into the tree. But by the time that it was done, everyone else had disappeared. I searched for my husband for days, knowing he would never leave me to fend for myself in this horrid new world. Worry turned into terror, with a smidgen of anger. I don't know who the anger was targeted at, everyone else for leaving or myself because I knew it was the word that did it. \n\nI was cunning and a quick learner. I'd say that's the reason I survived the treacherous journey back to civilization and through time, but It wasn't until about seven or eight years later that I realized something was off about me. My flesh stayed taunt and glimmered with youth as others had the slight pouch of age. \n\nI found a new home by that point and forged a new life. It wasn't easy, and I couldn't exactly tell anyone the truth. A small distance was between me and anyone else. That time I decided I would be the one to leave. Each community I found myself in the distance grew. My self hatred for listening to that word, for letting it seep into my brain, was only growing. \n\nI was eternally 27 in appearance with ever growing cynicism of the world around me. Nomadic and never letting anyone past the barriers I had concocted. My luck broke when my life journey led me on the path of the gold rush. If I was going to live forever, which at that point I was certain of, I might as well be rich. Not too many people were keen on women doing such things independently so I formed a team, my first longterm committed interaction since the word. \n\nPeter was the one who broke me. He was my partner, finding almost as much gold as me. He was outwardly impressed by my skills and remarked on them repeatedly along with my single status. He was charming and charismatic, nothing could dim the twinkle in his eye as he prepared to tell a joke or lessen the deep dimples that formed on his cheeks as he grinned. I was almost as mischievous as him, which made us a great team but better lovers. It took him 12 years to admit to himself that something was wrong. I was happy for those 12 years. Peter had thoughts for a while, but when he finally broke down and asked, he wouldn't believe the truth. He called me a demon and accused me of trading my soul. He took a knife and drove it through my chest. I don't know if it was in attempt to kill me or just to have definitive proof he was correct. My skin broke up but my blood stayed in its place like jello. The knife easily slicing through as if the opening was always there. He fainted and I left. \n\nThe next century was lonely. As time passed, some years more slowly than others, I realized how futile my existence was. No one could ever know, for fear of my arms being strapped to me and being asked if I was touched as a child. I could never stay in one place for very long, for fear that the people I did interact with would notice something. \n\nThen I met her, the year was 1994 and the times had changed so much since the word. Charlene, or Lenie as I affectionately called her on my more intoxicated evenings, was my angel. She tapped the bronze ball that was fixated to her tongue on her front teeth as she took my coffee order. It was slightly annoying but endearing. It took two years of nearly daily caffeine trips until she asked if I liked parties. She had noticed my solitary loner aura and decided she needed to take it upon herself to get me a friend. I refused multiple requests for forced fun activities and awkward house parties. Until she offered tickets to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers with her. Our friendship bloomed as we spoke of music, movies, and books. All of which I had an abundance of time to absorb. This time it didn't take 12 years. Charlene was much more adept than Peter. It took her 7 months from the concert to ask me what was different about me. I knew too much about too many things, I had too many antiques that were in near mint condition, and I talked frequently about history. I don't know if she was expecting a really close relationship with a grandparent or what, but as the truth slipped through my lips I didn't see malice in her eyes.\n\nShe remained my friend. A feat I had never thought possible. She accepted me, and more importantly believed me. She gave me hope that people in this overly cruel world, can be beacons of hope. She guided me from the rocks of my life to find a safe place. I wish I could have done the same for her. I wish I could have made the ice visible. I wish she would have been wearing her seat belt. I wish that she hadn't been going so fast. I have a lot of wishes. But really now the biggest thing I wish for is that you can see me the way Charlene saw me. I've never told my story to anyone before. Some may say her funeral eulogy isn't the right place, that this should be about her. But what better way to honor her than to tell all of you the truth I shared with her and hope that her guiding power can help you to accept me as she did.", " 300 years ago I was human. My heart would beat. I would bleed if you cut me. I thought about death. I often contemplated many hours the day it would visit, and what it would be like to slip from this life and move onto the next-- if there was one. \n\nI remember the night I made the transition from expecting death to having never to worry about it. \n\nI met a young gypsy woman on my travels through Europe. She had a kiss I wouldn't forget. A kiss that not only passed on the light that now carries my body until the end of time, but a kiss that ensures I remember every moment of it. \n\nAnd now, I sit here today. It's the year 2014. I’m 300 years old. I want those to understand that if you do succumb to a young woman on your travels that passes on a curse that I have, please understand you live not only in a time of abundance but in a time where technology can help bring meaning back into your own existence. \n\nWhat I mean is during the first half of my 300 years, you can imagine I lived in a time that was simple. You read books when you were bored, you visited family, friends, for conversation, and you did your part. I was a blacksmith. That's it. I eventually ran out of books to read, I had to quit my job at the time due to my lack of aging, and eventually all my family died. I was left alone. And then technology hit the human race like a bomb. \n\nI watched it grow, and grow, and grow. I remember the first car. I remember the first computer. I remember the first cell phone. Now, it's the year 2014. I remember a time where it took weeks, even months to travel to places that now only takes an hour or two via aircraft. I enjoy life, because I'm finally living it. Life will lose it's meaning, I think it's supposed to. I spend my time now traveling. I sell my art, thanks to the wonders of the internet. I play against teenagers online with video games; the other day I play Grand Theft Auto and made friends with a man, Jerry was his name. We have a clan. I will continue to watch technology grow, and I will grow with it, because I feel both technology and I need each other. Both of us will be here for a very, very, long time. ", "I first found out I couldn't die at a young age when I fell from a cliff while playing with my brother. I was knocked out for a while but when I had awoken I found that I had suffered no injury. My brother standing over me with tears in his eyes hugged me and apologised over and over. Actually, this wasn't when I found out. At the time I just considered myself very lucky to escape death. A feeling I have wished to be able to have again. \n\nI'm not sure what keeps me ticking, maybe it's a disease , or something supernatural like a curse. When I was 80 I still looked and felt like a young lad in his twenties even though my wife was old and decrepit. Not only that but I looked younger than our children who did not seem to carry my so-called gift. That was such a long time ago now... At present I count myself to be 306 years old although I look like I'm in my early thirties. I've had several wives, all of whom have passed, and I'm not even sure how many progeny I have.\n\nI won't bore you with my entire life story. No, that would take entirely too long and you have such a short life ahead of you that you should go out and enjoy it while you can. As I write this, I'm situated in what most would call an old house. I was there to see it built when it was called new and up-to-date with the times. I'm not far out of the city, just ten minutes by carriage. I'm not writing to tell you about the building however. My story is that of how I came to utterly despise my very own existence. \n\nAt first, finding out you're immortal is fascinating but it slowly eats away at your soul. You live to see everyone you care about slowly wither away to dust. I can't tell you how many loved ones I have laid to rest. How many times I've had to change my entire identity just so that others don't catch on to what I am, whatever I am. How many times I've had to start over with love even though I know I will outlive them. I'm not with anyone now, I've decided to take a break as I've grown tired and weary. I've even given up on working, I've shut myself in away from the outside world. You can do these things when you don't require anything but yourself to live, I can go days without eating and still live. I know that as I've tried to starve myself to death on several occasions. I'm not sure how long I've been cooped up in this house. Days, weeks, months, years, it doesn't really matter. As long as I pay my due taxes the taxman leaves me alone, the house is already fully paid off. Makes you wonder how people normally survive while paying for a house as well a getting taxed, although I have known a few that haven't. \n\nI've devoted most of my time to reading, it's incredible to note how many books from my childhood are still floating about today. I've read books on science, philosophy, art, horror as well as many more. My mind has expanded beyond that of regular people, but 306 years of life experience and books will do that. I suppose immortality is not all bad, it gives a man time to ponder his own as well as others existence. What is humanity if not a race to a goal with an inevitable fate not long after. What is the point if not progress? As I write this to you dear reader, I'm quickly beginning to think that my existence can be proved of use. I have heard about a man in America who is attempting to push humanity in a forward progression. I think I may see if I could be of use to him... I believe his name was Tesla and he was working with something I have read a fair bit about. I'm not sure how long this upswing of mine will last, but I certainly must use my motivation to help you and your future kin.\n\n\n----\n\nSorry it isn't that good, it's my first short story in a long time. Plus, it's rather late and I should sleep and as a mortal I should be well rested. If anyone can give tips on writing then please do go ahead. Writing was a childhood passion of mine that faded into obscurity with age and now I'm trying to get back into it to see where it takes me. " ]	3
Feel free to add more to the letter if necessary.	[WP] You receive and unexpected letter in the mail. It says "Go to the end of the street and walk into the woods. There will be an old man waiting there."	[ "No fucking way. I'm not doing this, I blatantly refuse. I have so much to do. I have finals this week, I gotta go send off my rent, and a whole load of other shit. \n\nOkay. Guess I'm doing this. I could probably use a new jacket, this Chattanooga weather is getting less mild with each passing day. It'll probably flip tomorrow, I'll hold off on the jacket. Fuck, why is this street so short? Goddamn, okay, here I go. Into the woods. To meet an old man. God, feet, stop carrying me. Give out. Turn me around. This is crazy. Why are the damn leaves so loud? Christ. \n\n\"You think too much, Sebastian.\"\nOhfuckohfuckohfuck he knows my name-\n\"Calm down. I'm here to tell you something.\" I'm not scared at all. Did I just piss? Dear God respond with something clever. \n\n\"DO YOU KNOW WHO THE FUCK I THINK I AM?\" Oh shit that wasn't what I wanted. I remember when we were normal. We'd be napping or getting lunches ready for the kids. \n\n\"It's true, isn't it? Look at you, boy. You look a mess. I'm not sure if that's ribs on your shirt or some poor sod. Tell me, is there anyone in there?\" \n\nYes, there is. \n\"I AM ALONE.\" No you aren't, you stupid fuck. I'm here. \n\n\"Sebastian, please. Come with me. We can make this all better.\" Do it, you fucking idiot. \n\n\"I AM FREE.\" God's will be damned, someone kill me before the laughing starts. \n\n\"HAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHA.\" You sound broken, friend. He can tell. You should take care of him. Erase him, and we can be normal again. \n\n\"Sebastian, please. Don't do this.\" Do what? It's just a hug. No one will ever know about my hugs. ", "It’s been so long since I’ve got a letter. With all of the chaos that’s going on in the world you forget about the little things. I’ve lived alone in this forsaken land for so long I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to speak with me, and honestly I haven’t spoken in such a long time I’m not sure I would have the ability.\n\nI keep to myself, tending to my chickens and the fields. The lakes have become dangerous, so swimming and fishing have become impossible. I’m not able to go to the market district anymore to trade goods, for the capital has been taken by dark forces, and the trade routes have been cut off. \n\nIt wasn’t but a few years ago that everything fell apart. I was working at a ranch for a portly man helping his daughter milk cows, gather eggs, and tend to the horses. The man was a bit lazy, but he was kind enough to give me a job when everyone else turned their backs on me. His daughter was a beautiful girl with the most calming voice you’ve ever heard. You could hear her singing late into the night, it was a captivating song that would cause all of the animals on the ranch gather around her. She was beautiful in the moonlight. \nEverything changed when the capital fell to the hands of evil. The ranch was handed over to new owners who banished the first chance they got. I hope to see my friends again, but it seems dark times have fallen on everyone. \n\nSo, you can see why getting a letter these days is odd. No one knew where I am, so how did this letter appear on my doorstep? Should I follow the directions in the letter, or should I ignore them and run? No, I will not run. I’m tired of running. This is my home, and I will fight for it. \n\nI’ve gathered a few things in a pack to take with me, just in case things decide to go south. The end of the road is about an 8 hour walk from my house, and there is no telling how far into the forest I need to walk. I make it to a small cave just around nightfall where I see the faint glow of fire. Just as described I find an old bearded man sitting between 2 torches with a scroll in his hands. As I reach for the scroll my left hand starts to throb in pain, but I must figure out why I’m here. The scroll is beaten and tattered with nothing on it but the royal family’s crest, which seems to be glowing. I feel like I’ve been chosen for a task bigger than myself, but what could it be? As I turn to leave I see the man now has a sword in his hands. Silently I hear “it’s dangerous to go alone, take this”. \n", "It was weird. I mean, No-one went into the woods, not anymore. It was damn near a health and safety issue. \n\nEver since construction had started on the smaller hillocks and bogs surrounding them, everyone knew it was just a matter of time. Most all people celebrated the news, as they had been a source of many a camping trip gone wrong, and there was longstanding rumor of vile things lurking that even the most skeptical only denied halfheartedly. 'The Goodwoods.' The older folk of the town had named it out of sentiment, now the younger adopted it out of irony. Out of necessity. It didn't half loom over the town.\n\nThe diggers had already started moving in on the edge of the creeping forest, the only thing stopping them the brave hill that bordered the road out of town. Even that had it's back to the woods. Construction was proving slow, and if you asked anyone again after they'd insisted it was due to laziness, they'd shift their eyes and clam up. It was common knowledge that the place had an... odd effect on people.\n\nSo this letter, as you can imagine, was an unwelcome one;\n\n\"Go to the end of the street and walk into the woods. There will be an old man waiting there. (Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200.) Await further instructions.\"\n\nMonopoly. I never played Monopoly. Didn't have a family really. Well, Edna'd get real mad if she heard me say that, but I mean, we never played it.\n\nI head out the door. And for the first time since I can remember, I lock it.\n\nThe way to the woods ain't far, 10 minute walk from home on a slow day. The problem is the moor that traps you just before it. Any path that may have been trampled into the waist-high grass in my parents' time was long gone, and if you got sucked in, you weren't getting out on your own easily. Or quickly. Fat Jimmy took a good ten minutes of heaving before the earth finally relented. Not relented, 'spat him out' would be more accurate. Popped an ankle right out. Right baby he was.\n\nWhen I reach the moor, I put all my necessaries in my shirt pockets, habits from when I was a kid. Keys and phone in the left, the playful eerie-as-all-hell letter in the right one. I try not to notice the right feels heavier. I roll up my pants and make sure my rain boots won't get sucked out at the first sign of tug. No less than three pairs of socks this time, I remember needing, like, five just to have them not fall off every step. Not sure how I feel about that. Glad, I suppose.\n\nI make my way into the bog, treacherously. There's no real threat of leeches or ticks or anything like that, despite what people claim no-one's had any cases the entire time it's been here. Well, that I know of. \n\nI trudge faster, keeping to tufts that I know are solid, some that I suspect. If somewhere looks uncertain, I carve a whole nother path round. Unsexy as caution is, it gets the job done, I'm at the first trees within the hour. They look somewhat displeased.\n\nI savour what I know to be my last fresh breath for a while, and go in. Moss claws at the trunks of oaks, kids begging their parents for that one toy. Once I get far enough in that light dims, I can no longer name most of the trees, and any of the fungi. I begin calling out. Some calls, though not limited to;\n\n\"HEY!\" \"HEY, LETTER GUY!\" \"HEY, ANY OLD MEN IN HERE?!\" \"HEY, MAN I GOT YOUR LETTER!\" \"COME ON OUT GODDAMMIT!\"\n\nThe calls descend into the profane, unheard. I'm beginning to empathize with that one tree that fell in the forest, when I get a reply. \n\n^^\"Turn ^^around.\"", "“When was the last time you felt something? I don’t mean the last time you got cut off in traffic and swore at the other driver. I don’t mean the last time you went on a date and waited anxiously afterwards for a phone call that didn’t come. I mean really felt something. I mean had your blood pressure spike so high that you felt like you were going to pass out. I mean you seriously questioned if you were going to die. I mean really felt something. You can’t answer can you? Go to the end of the street and walk into the woods. There will be an old man waiting there. He will show you another way.”\n\nThis letter had come sandwiched between a note from my bank summarizing the last month’s activity, and the phone bill. There was no return address, and no name listed anywhere. I wanted to brush it off and trash the letter. It was probably some prank by a neighborhood kid who had learned to open my mailbox. Except it was right. I couldn’t remember the last time I had really felt something. There was probably nothing waiting for me in the woods, except maybe a kid with a squirt gun, but I was willing to risk it.\n\nI grab a jacket and head outside. It’s getting cold out. There is snow forecasted for tomorrow. I feel a biting chill from the wind, and grab some gloves and a hat too. As I head down the street I really hope there isn’t some kid with a water balloon. You could get hypothermia from getting wet in this weather.\n\nI reach the edge of the woods, and grit my teeth as I walk through. I expect a cold splash on the back of my at any moment. At least for the first few steps I do. Then I develop a sense of wonder at the woods. I’ve driven past them countless times on my way to work, but I’ve never actually set foot inside them before. I wonder what’s back here.\n\nI here a splash and a cry for help ahead. Someone’s fallen into a lake of some sort. I run ahead and sure enough the trees give way to a lake, and an old man desperately splashing as he tries to stay afloat.\n\n“Help!” He shouts again. I barely register the bridge he must’ve fallen from as I shed my jacket and dive in. He’s about fifty meters out and I’ve got to be quick. With his poor circulation he’s probably only got seconds before he starts losing toes to the cold.\n\nBurn me is this water freezing! I involuntarily stop breathing as the water feels like it’s choking me, trying to force itself into my lungs, but I was a lifeguard in my youth, and resiliently begin to stroke my way out to the old man.\n\nI’m about ten meters away when his head ducks under. Oh no, the water’s deep. If he falls very far I’ll never be able to catch him, and if he inhales any water it’ll damage his lungs for sure. I desperately close the distance to the epicenter of his ripples, and dive down. I close my eyes and blindly feel for something. My hands brush aside algae that has been growing in the stagnant water, nothing. How could he have sunk so far?\n\nI kick with my legs to propel myself even further down. He’s been under twenty seconds at this point. Seriously, were there rocks in his pockets? Come on old man, give me something.\n\nHe’s been under almost forty seconds, and my own lungs are starting to burn. My body tries to reflexively breathe in the surrounding water and I’m choking out bubbles. I take one last searching swipe with my arms, and brush a coat. The old man!\n\nI loop an arm under his shoulder and start stroking furiously. He’s been under almost a full minute, and I can’t tell if he’s unconscious and therefore drowning. He’s limp in my arms. It doesn’t look good.\n\nWe break the surface and I kick like crazy for the shore. I tilt his head back and out of the water. His eyes are closed and there’s water dripping from his mouth. Not good signs.\n\nI pull him onto the shore. Okay, ABCs. Airway, breathing circulates, clearly his airway is blocked by water. I find his sternum and start compressing. Water starts ejecting from his mouth in spurts. Clearly still clogged, keep compressing. I think I feel something crack. He’s going to have some broken ribs.\n\nHe coughs violently and sits up. Oh thank god. I thought I had just pulled a corpse out of the water. I grab my phone and dial 911. As I’m informing the dispatcher where I am and what I need the old man reaches into his jacket and pulls out a letter that appears to be water proofed somehow. What on earth?\n\nI thank the dispatcher and hang up.\n\n“Ambulance is coming. You’re going to be fine.” I tell the old man. He continues to cough and gestures for me to open the letter. Really confused, I open the letter. Inside is a piece of paper with a single sentence.\n\n“Well done, await further instructions.”\n\nSolid prompt OP 10/10 would respond again.", "Go to the end of the street and walk into the woods. There will be an old man waiting there. \n\n\nI re-read the letter. It was an actual letter, like the ones the mail carriers deliver. It was postmarked from Newark, NJ. I glanced up, there was no woods at the end of my street, there never had been. I flipped the piece of paper over, looking to see if there were additional instructions, there were none. Just out of curiosity I walked to the end of my street, it ended at Meadowlark Lane, I looked across Meadowlark lane, I could see the brick house across the street, but no woods. Woods were hard to find in the suburbs. I looked down at the letter and noticed a postscript, written in tiny letters at the bottom of the first page: \nP.S. keep going the woods are just around the corner.\n\n\nI turned left onto Meadowlark Lane and kept walking. I can’t explain why, maybe it was the lack of job prospects for an aspiring photojournalist, maybe it was the fact that it was a beautiful day and the walk felt good, but I turned that corner and walked the length of Meadowlark Lane. I turned right on Overlook drive, because it felt right, and walked past the high school. It was football season and I could see the players practicing. I smiled; I remembered high school, when I thought I was a good enough football player to play in college. I wasn’t. I kept walking, still no woods. At the end of overlook I turned left, this time onto Stafford Rd, there used to be woods here, before the construction of the condo complex. They had called the condo complex Woodview Estates, but there were no woods, just rows of identical gray condos. \n\nBy this time, I was a few miles from home and I felt good. The sun was shining, so I just kept walking, the letter tucked into my backpack next to my camera. Stafford Rd wound its way down towards the river and two hours later I was still walking, still no woods, but enjoying the day. At some point I had turned onto Riverside drive, and I could see the dome of the museum across the river but still, I kept walking. I was downtown then, walking through Riverside Park. I took a left on Pine St, because even though the woods were long since gone from downtown, it seemed ironic to walk down Pine St. looking for the woods. \n\n\nPine St. was short and so I turned right on 5th ave, and walked to the end again, it was later afternoon by now, the sun had sunk a little lower, but it was still warm and my feet didn’t hurt yet. At the end of 5th ave I came to the train station. I had to pee, so I turned to go into the train station but before I went into the train station, I glanced across the street at the back of the huge grey post office building; and old man was perched atop the building smiling and waving at me. I blinked and he was gone, perhaps just a figment of my imagination.\n\n\nI used the horrible public restroom and was wondering what I would do next. I still hadn’t found the woods, I may have found the old man (I was not sure if the figment of my imagination counted), and I certainly didn’t feel like going home. I looked up at the train schedule, there was a train north leaving in fifteen minutes. I couldn't tell you why then, and I still couldn't tell you why today, but I bought a ticket, and got on the train. My phone was out of battery by now, but I wasn’t worried, I had no family and my friends were used to me disappearing for days to go take photos somewhere. \n\n\nThe train rushed north, winding through the woods, and at the last stop, I got off. I had been here before, I just wasn’t quite sure when. Everything looked familiar, maybe it was from a photo book, maybe it was from a dream, I didn’t know, but it was dark now, so I got a room at a hotel near the train station. I was tired after my journey, but I couldn’t sleep. I kept taking the letter out of my bag and re-reading it. I hadn’t found an old man or the woods yet, but the post script kept speaking to me, urging me to keep going. In the morning I kept going.\n\n\n\nLeaving home and going north was my first adventure. Many more followed. Like the time a grizzly shit in my tent, or when the Chechnyan rebels kidnapped me for ransom. I don't know why, but I never returned home, I just kept going. \n\n\n\nI found a tattoo in Tibet, and a wife in Iceland. I found my courage in Lesotho and my fear in Malta, I found hate in France and my history in Arkhangelsk, but I never found the woods, nor the old man. I do not regret a single day, I have not only seen the world, but been a part of it. I have lived on the kindness of strangers in strange places, and today, after the long adventure, I am going back home.\n\n\nI am on that same train I left on fifty years ago and my wife is sleeping in the seat next to me. This time i'm traveling south. Outside the window it all seems familiar, the thinning houses replaced by the evergreens. There are fewer trees now than there used to be. Its dusk outside as the train rushes past the woods, the green trees turn purple in the fading light. I take the letter out of my bag, and switch on the overhead light. The letter is yellowed and the writing is cracked and worn. I can still make out the first line about the woods and the old man, but the postscript has faded to a gray smudge, the letter no longer urges me to keep going. \n\n\nI look up, out the window, and see my reflection on the glass, an old man staring out at the woods beyond. \n\n\n" ]	5
Edit: Wow, that front page fame! And all thanks to /u/jagged_little_phil ! Now I don't know if this is allowed or frowned upon, but if anyone is interested in writing a precursor to u/jagged_little_phil's phenomenal story (including you sir), feel free to do so in this thread! Thanks everyone!	[WP] The moment when all the members of the most notorious and ruthless gang in the U.S. figure out that every single one of them is an undercover cop from different counties.	[ "Pierre scanned the sinister figures who had gathered in this dimly lit hall for a rare face to face meeting. He personally took credit for the success formation of the European Disunion. A secret MI6 plan to keep track of the most dangerous and machiavellian criminals to have fled the European jurisdiction. His role was to bring them together here in the United States and secretly sabotage their schemes until MI6 was ready to take them all down. \n\nIt was not an easy line to walk, but so far he'd thwarted most of their machinations, and even the bank robbery, movie star kidnapping and cocaine heists that went ahead were partially mitigated. He did regret the incident with the Statue of Liberty, but to mask cracks forming in his cover story, he’d felt forced to insist \"for French pride\" that the US learn not to take that French gift for granted.\n\n\"Gentlemen, as you know, we have suffered some unfortunate setbacks.\" Pierre began before briefly pausing to look for any hidden clues in the members expressions. Did they know? Had the rumors that the group contained a government spy reached them? He couldn't be sure, but Isabella had some emotional flicker slip past her otherwise well controlled mask.\n\nHe decided it was too risky to ignore the rumor. At least one of the must have heard it, and they'd immediately suspect him. Why had his supervisor forced him to pretend to be French? He'd mispronounced Bordeaux in their first meeting. It was foolish even if such fake identities were common in clandestine circles. And he wasn't convinced it was. Sven, who was sitting to his left, was almost certainly not Norwegian like he claimed, but that example didn't count since Sven, who was unfortunately the only member of the group Pierre was able to find any info on, was also a government agent, from the Czech republic. \"Sven\" was probably the cause of the rumor of government infiltration.\n\nThe pause had gone too long, but the path was clear. Obviously Sven was a liability and to protect the mission, he would have to be thrown to the wolves.\n\n\"We have clearly been sabotaged from the beginning\", he stated with forced calmness. This time Isabella showed more than a flicker, it was open fear. Maybe fear of being arrested, but it didn't seem quite that. The other had all stirred as well, so they had heard the rumor.\n\nPierre turned to face his scapegoat, \"Oui, the rumor is true\", he said, remembering to French it up. \"Sven is a government agent. He is not one of us, he is not even Norwegian\".\n\n\"Ja I knew it! He didn't even know den Glücksburg!\", Burst out Isabella.\n\n\"Den Glücksburg? You insult Italia!\", said a man who had brought a pasta lunch, but was wearing a poncho and sombrero.\n\nOr at least was wearing a sombrero until slapped by Lady Worcestershire. \"Ha, I've waiting to do that! Why are you dressed as a cowboy Mexican while trying to be Spanish? You idiota!\".\n\n\"Okay, okay, Calm down\", said Pierre stepping in between them and finally getting a look at Lady Worcestershire. \"Your Downton Abbey costume is also a little ridiculous. We have the traitor Sven, there's no reason to think there's anything more in our way\".\n\n\"Jo, you're half right\", said Sven dropping a Czech ID on the table and smiling. \"I wasn't very good at this, but neither were you! Lady Worcestershire, I know you're an agent too, we can take them!\"\n\nGuns were drawn and it was spiraling out of Pierre's control, until, before he could retrieve his concealed ID, Sven's ID was joined by the Italian, Spanish and Norwegian’s.\n\n\"Oh, merde!\", Pierre stammered, \"We decapitated the statue of liberty ...\"", "It's funny that you should mention that, because I can I tell you firsthand that this IS actually how it works. Not by coincidence, though. Their bosses may or may not know, but they usually don't. It's all orchestrated by the CIA. Has been since the early 70s. Well, it was born from an old tactic used initially under Grover Cleveland's office - but for a slightly different purpose. I know, because I once played a role in the operation. I was a mere analyst; but I know enough for that to not really matter all that much. \n\nWe plant people into positions of power in the poor communities in order to create chaos among them. To weaken their voice within society and keep them unorganized, even at each other's throats, enough to never be able to grow their own strength. And something I hate to admit, but... as well as helping to solidify divides between races; which helps with the former goals, while also maintaining the \"desired\" statuses of peoples in the country. It certainly helps curb truly organized crime, at least. \n\nIn truth it has nearly never had anything to do with finding \"real\" gang leaders. Not since the 40s, at least. And even then, such methods proved pretty ineffective. Those types of people are generally smart enough to be cautious about who they let in on what secrets. Plus, not only do they seldom exist anymore, but they aren't often capable of becoming a real threat. ...As if anyone would even really give a shit about them, regardless. \n\nThe moles can't know that they're purpose is to keep the people at bay. Not only would many object or refuse, but such information simply cannot become public. It's too hard to manipulate people when they know they're being manipulated, you know? Further, the political windfall from such information would simply be too much. \n\nSo, instead, we convince cops that they're there to unearth the roots of some evil. Act as if some local drug lord is actually some major burden for us. (Let you in on another secret: we supply those drugs for much the same reasons as stated above) Cops work out quite well, too, since they're already trained to command authority and hold their ground well in tense situations. Turns out they usually make for great leaders. \n\nAnyways, what prompted me to reveal this is that we were once nearly outed when a situation nearly identical to your WP. \n\nI don't recall many of the details anymore. It's been a long time now. But, the previous gang leader had been shot by the cops (in his own PD no less - but they didn't know, so don't blame them) leaving us a void that needed to be filled before someone from the street took it, leaving us in a more limited capacity to control the situation. But, like all government agencies, we had a situation of right-hand not talking to the left. And, before you knew it, we had not 2, or even 3, but FOUR cops vying for that role. 2 had already been in place as middlemen in the operation, and the other 1 was brought in by another department to try and fill the role from the outside (always bad a move, I don't know what they were thinking) and the 4th the leader of a rival gang, who was tasked with trying to take over the area. \n\nAt some point one of them decided to call a meeting, thinking it would help him gain more intel about both gangs, and over the course of the meeting they apparently became suspicious of each other, and began having each other followed. \n\nOnce they figured out what had happened the situation actually became worse for us. They were no longer creating the havoc in the streets that we needed. It's makes sense, though: could you order assaults against a fellow police officer? \n\nThe one middleman and the outsider were re-assigned fairly early on; since it no longer made sense to run the operation, since the guy they were after was himself a cop... And the police departments found themselves at odds on what to do with the current gang leaders. If they reassigned them surely another would come to fill their places, and then they would just need to plant moles all over again; but, it didn't make sense for them to keep their current moles in place since there turned out to be no real leader to bust... \n\nTheir discussing the details of this situation put us on high alert. Neither of them could know that we were pulling their strings. It would raise too many questions. We had one outed for having an affair - forcing his resignation - and the other promoted and moved to another department; making the whole ordeal no longer his problem. We planted one of our own operatives in the rival gang and had him bust the undercover for the real crimes that he had committed (they are still accountable). And, before you knew it there was no one left who would bother questioning what had happened. \n\nIt's great that I can finally get all of this off of my chest. More so, since I know this will never be taken seriously in this setting, and with my username ;)", "They were ten minutes into the meeting and they'd all barely said a word. What the Hell was wrong with them all? This was the biggest meeting of them all; the one where they would figure out the allocation of assets from the deal with the Pakistani poppy farmers.\n\nThe room was pretty big; it was actually a nice setup. Wu had used his party influence to book a pretty nice conference room just outside Canton for the event. There were 24 of them sitting around the round table, and bright lights looked down on them.\n\nThey had to pass a resolution eventually, and when they did, every member of the cartel would have to sign, at which point they would all be unquestionably guilty enough to be tried and convicted in any country on earth. When Johann gave the signal, his agents would overpower the perimeter guards and seize the room from the south side double doors. There were also northern doors, but they left those open specifically because knowing who would try to flee was important for the case. There were plainclothes agents guarding all hallways leading to the northern doors, and plainclothes agents guarding all entrances to the building anyway.\n\nFinally the Indian man with the unpronounceable name proposed a draft resolution that was universally agreed upon, and it went around the table, to be signed by representatives from the Cartel from every country.\n\nJohann was the last signatory, and as he signed, he remarked \"You know, some toaster strudel sounds pretty fetch right now.\"\n\nThe words \"toaster strudel\" triggered a sequence of events which would lead to the South door being thrown open and German agents training their guns on the members of the committee before arresting them.\n\nBut something was wrong... Five seconds passed... Nothing. Then seven seconds. There was a commotion outside, and Johann glanced over to see hundreds of armed men streaming out of buildings and taking up defensive positions. Holy shit; did they know we were coming? Something was very wrong. The other cartel members could clearly hear the commotion which was now getting closer and could be heard faintly throughout the building, but they seemed to be pretending otherwise.\n\nWhen the first gunshot rang out outside, the delegates moved into action; some of them ran to the window to look at the situation; others ran towards the far wall, some stayed put, others drew guns in preparation, and one hid under the table as more shots rang out outside. Without warning, the ceiling tiles on the south side of the room broke open, and people in military uniform descended into the room, and seconds later the north side tiles broke open and a number of men dressed in all black fell through into the room. In the midst of the shouting, guns were pointed at everyone by everyone, when suddenly the entire window was shattered at once by a group of men in full SWAT gear, who immediately pushed the table over and took cover against the first volley of shots from the other side of the room.\n\nA few seconds after the second group had dropped from the ceiling, one of the men in black began shouting in every language he knew \"Don't shoot! Nicht schießen! Waffen nieder, Waffen nieder! Не стреляйте!\", but he was knocked over by when the wall behind him, opposite the window, collapsed to reveal a fourth SWAT team. When the light hit the other room, they realized that they had actually been in the same room as another team, and they immediately pointed their guns at everyone as well, and people also began simultaneously streaming in from the north and south doors, but by then the rest of the men on the squad of the man who had been knocked over had picked up on what he realized, and taken up his call and put their hands up.\n\nPinned between three Special forces operatives, trying to put his hands up but unable to move because the room was so crowded, that is when Johann realized what had happened. Shit. Are you fucking kidding me? We already did the fucking delivery, too.\n\nAnd that is the story of how the governments of Germany, China, Russia, Ireland, the United States, South Africa, Egypt, India, Japan, Thailand, Mexico, Brazil, Algeria, Venezuela, Argentina, Pakistan, Turkey, Iran, Australia, France, The United Kingdom, Italy, Canada, and Belarus organized and carried out the delivery of ten million grams of heroine to their respective countries.", "Diego was taking his time about it. And that was another reason why I hated him. Such a lazy fuck, never wanted to do any actual work, like killing an informant, beating the shit out of someone to get information, or (as in this case) shooting Uri in the head.\n\nUri deserved it. The dumbfuck had slept with Dieter's girlfriend, and that messed up the unity of our group. We'd agreed from the start to stand by each other, as brothers, looking out for one another, but that Uri couldn't keep his dick in his pants, and ever since then everything was messed up. Of course Dieter was pissed. Especially when James stupidly admitted that he'd always wanted to do her as well. We'd almost come to blows then, but eventually we agreed that Uri had to go, and then we'd move on and never speak of this again.\n\nDiego had to do it. He had the lowest kill count of any of us. But he was taking his fucking time. There was Uri, kneeling right in front of him, fucking do it already! We were out here in the middle of the desert, and the dry dust was starting to get to me. God, I needed a drink.\n\nRaphaël stepped forward, and in his stupid French accent, volunteered to do the job himself. For god's sake this was getting stupider by the minute. I looked across at Dieter, who just rolled his eyes in exasperation. It was only a test! The automatic we gave to Diego wasn't even loaded. We just wanted to see if he was committed to the group or not. My job was to kill Diego if he was a coward. Either way, I would then kill Uri. We didn't actually trust Diego enough to give him a loaded gun in a time of stress. He got a bit unpredictable sometimes.\n\nI almost turned the Uzi on Raphaël right there and then, and maybe would have if Duong and Aadhithya hadnt stepped forward to pull him back and shut him up.\n\nDiego seemed to get his nerve back and stated \"no, its all right, I'll do it,\" and moved a bit forward to place the gun right on Uri's head.\n\nUri spoke up unexpectedly. \"Just for the record, I'm an undercover cop.\" Shocked and stunned, we were. Nobody said anything as Uri went on. \"I know I wont survive, but I've supplied enough evidence by now to put you all away before long. The raid will be soon.\"\n\nThat was too much for Diego, who broke down. He dropped the gun and collapsed on the ground saying \"Me too. I cant live like this anymore.\"\n\nUnbelievability, as if a cork had been pulled, everyone else started flapping their lips and confessing to having been undercover. Even Tông and Kwang-Sun, who I never would have guessed in a million years. Out here in the desert, the gang started to act like long lost brothers, exchanging names, stories and places. Big hugs, big smiles, big laughs for all.\n\nBut I hadn't said anything, and eventually, among all the revelry, they slowly realized... and turned to me with caution and hands on guns.\n\n\"FBI,\" I said, and their faces turned to smiles once more.\n\nDiego came over to me to shake my hand, and I raised the Uzi and shot him in the neck. Lazy fuck, I'm not your friend. As he hit the ground, I dealt with the rest of them in the same way, leaving Raphaël for last. Somehow, Raphaël had gotten the unloaded gun and was trying to shoot me with it. What an idiot. Retarded cheese eating surrender monkey, deserves a round in the face. So I did. One round. Doesn't deserve any more than that.\n\nA few moments more to survey my work and make sure none had survived, and it was back across the sand to the helicopter. As I sent the coded message over the radio I allowed myself a smile. It was a messy ending, but it's going to be not only my last day working undercover, but also worth a huge promotion. The rest of the team will recover the money and drugs and the haul will make the front page of tomorrows newspaper, and please a very large number of politicians.\n\nAnd the other agents? Plausible deniability. Their agencies will complain, but its not like I ever knew they were undercover cops. As I waited for backup, I lit a cigarette and started wording the false report in my head. \n", " Today seemed to be the day. I filed my lungs with the crisp morning air as I began to load my equipment out of my van. Everything seems in order, my mic was set, GPS functioning, and radio intact. \n \n “are you ready sir, over”\n \n “roger that lets get this show on the road, over”\n\n Its now or never. The pressure feels overwhelming but at the same time I’m oddly calm. I trust my team and I know we’ll pull through but that still does not provide much assurance. These guys are natural born killers and ruthless, anything could go wrong. I took a deep breath and quelled my troubled thoughts, we are going to win today, there’s no room for failure, I told myself as I began to walk.\n \n An abandoned warehouse stood alone in the middle of a field, its’ towers climbing the skies as a looming reminder of the past. Bricks and window shards littered the floor. This factory had obviously seen better days. Graffiti was scrawled all over the walls, reading “SAVE THE ENVIRONMENT, PROTECT EARTH!” and “THIS IS THE ONLY PLANET WE GOT”. Ugh those damn hipsters. Always going on about the environment, but they are the first to buy anything apple shits out. That’s not important right now, man focus! You’re about to bust the most notorious gang in the fricken U.S. get your head in the game! \n \n As I approach the door I run into a fellow gang member. He was short but stocky, and was covered with tattoos. His nose appeared to be crushed, a testimony to his fighting skill. Okay keep your cool you can do this, just say something,\n\n “Nice weather were having eh?” I say cheerfully \n He squints at me and replies with a grunt. What the hell man, you’re a gang banger! Gang bangers don’t make conversations about the weather! And it’s not even fucking nice, its cold! Stupid! Stupid … \n\n“After you”\n \n I look up to see the man opening the door for me. Well damn he’s not so bad, who says gang bangers weren’t nice! I walk through, thanking the nice man and continue down the hallway. As the man behind me closed the door, the hallway turned pitch black. The only light present was omitting from the other end of the hallway. I couldn’t help but feel trapped in a tunnel, walking towards the light, slowly walking towards the light, slowly getting brighter, then black.\n \n I woke up disoriented, piercing lights assaulted my eyes. What the hell is going on? I tried to rub my head but I couldn’t. I glanced at my hand to find I was restrained. Holy shit they know. They know I’m under cover! Shit! Did they find my wire and radio? I look around the room to see a large oak table with thirteen scowling men sitting about. One of them stood up and began to approach me. His eyes threatening, snake tattoo around his neck, gun held tightly in his hand, walking tensely towards me, he then said in a raspy voice,\n \n “How’s it goin … Officer!?” \n\n The room erupted with laughter, their eyes never wavering, staring into my soul.\n\n“We always knew. Did you really think you were fooling anyone? I knew from day one! Didn’t I tell you silent P!”\n\n“Yea, but I didn’t believe you, I thought you was straight man!”, which was surprising as silent P never spoke. \n\n The man with the gun came right to my face, with his gun inches away from my skull, \n\n“You messed with the wrong gang, any last words?”\n\n My heart froze. So this is it isn’t it? This is where I die, at the hand of these murders. The gun pressed harder against my head, he was growing impatient and I could tell he was about to pull the trigger. I squeezed my eyes shut. Goodbye Annabelle. The gun discharged.\n\n\n What happened next was bizarre and almost unbelievable. I opened my eyes to the pleasant surprise of being alive and surrounded by swat. They shot the door down and poured into the room screaming and baring their weapons, pointing them at the members. There seemed to be an overwhelming amount of swat teams, in fact too many. At second glance these swat teams all had different country flags and slight variations on their uniforms. As the room was filled to the brim with swat, the confusion and mayhem continued for five minutes until the room came to a silent halt. The members, standing from their seats, looked around, dazed with their hand towards the sky. The man with the gun to my head began to untie me.\n \n “Sorry about that mate, the names John, I was under cover and had no choice but to play along till my back up showed up, thought for a second I might have had to kill you to save my cover!” \n \n “Wait, you’re under cover too? And Australian?” I asked in disbelief.\n \n “Yes, and it took some bloody hard work to disguise this accent of mine. It seems that the mission has failed, and all this work was for naught, might as well arrest these fuckers now.” \n\nI glanced at the other members as they all seemed in shock. One of them spoke out in a deep Russian accent,\n \n “Wait, wait, I am secret service too, from mother Russia. I was sent to stop the smuggling of contraband from dis organisation!”\n\nAnother member chimed in\n \n “Yeah eh? I’m a secret agent too, and I’m also here aboot the illegal drugs too, eh.”\n\n Slowly but surely all the members of the notorious gang confirmed that they were in fact all under cover. After verifying all their badges numbers, I couldn’t help but laugh. The most notorious, ruthless gang of all of America was comprised of the most elite service men of the world! But if we comprised the gang who was selling the drugs, who created the reputation? Did we all actually take part in gang activity in order to trick each other unknowingly becoming the gang? Are we all the real gang members? That’s enough for one day I’m going home now to kiss my wife Annabelle. I’m coming home.\n", "Jackie hid behind the barricaded door as the cops beat on the walls and screamed for him to come out. \n___\n\nTwo hours earlier in the house...\n\nSherlock handed the metal rod to Caribou.\n\n\"Here's a crowbar, you two start ripping boards up off the floor and nailing them over the doors and windows. That'll keep them from getting in so easy and give as another way out if shit really goes south.\" \n\n\"Goddamn Sherlock, you mean to tell me shit ain't went south yet?\" Caribou took the crowbar with a shaky hand as beads of sweat poured off his bald head.\n\n\"We made it back to the house didn't we?\" said Sherlock. \"They could have just shot all of us on site.\"\n\n\"No, \" said KFC, \"instead we haul ass out of there with a mother fucking tracking device on the truck. The same truck that has over ninety kilos of coke in the bed and is parked out front as we speak.\"\n\n\"Look, how the fuck was I supposed to know that it was a bust?\" Sherlock still had blood on his shirt from carrying Habanero into the bedroom. \n\n\"You know, come to think of it, you didn't seem so surprised motherfucker.\" said KFC.\n\n\"Goddammit KFC, we don't have time for this shit! Those county cops will be here in less than an hour. Let's get the goddamn windows boarded up. There'll be plenty of time for bitching and moaning later.\"\n\nCaribou slammed the crowbar down deep into the floorboards of the old abandoned house they had been squatting in since all this started. He pulled and jerked furiously for a moment before his skinny little arms gave up. He let go and turned his attention back to Sherlock before KFC could say anything.\n\n\"And just what the fuck are you going to do while we're in here busting our asses trying to keep those cops out?\" he said.\n\n\"I got some questions for Habanero.\" Sherlock said as he picked up a pair of rusty wire pliers.\n\n\"I don't know,\" said KFC shaking his head, \"I seen that motherfucker do some serious shit during his initiation. Ain't no way he's a snitch.\"\n\n\"We'll find out, won't we.\" said Sherlock, testing the wire pliers menacingly.\n\n\"Sherlock, he's in the bedroom with a goddamn bullet in him.\" said Caribou. \"The son of a bitch can't tell you anything if he's not conscious.\" \n\n\"Both of you get to work.\" said Sherlock. \"I'll be back in here to help you in just a few minutes.\"\n\n\n___\n\nAcross town, thirty minutes ago...\n\n\"They shot Thomas. Jesus Christ, they fucking shot Thomas.\" Alan was shaking in the passenger seat of the cruiser as he loaded his gun.\n\nVictor kept his eyes peeled ahead as he sped through heavy traffic with the siren on.\n\n\"It was an accident, \" he said, \"they're from Wilson county - they had no idea he was an undercover agent. When he pulled the gun, they thought he was one of the Scrotes.\"\n\n\"Those Wilson county fucks are insane.\" Alan looked over to Victor, \"I had no idea their department had the budget for machine guns and grenades. Especially after all the reprimands from last year, what with harassing civilians and shit.\"\n\n\"Well, having those automatic weapons allowed them to take out at least five members of the gang right there on site. Too bad those goddamn Scrotes managed to snag Thomas and take him back with them.\" said Victor. \"After today, you can bet your sweet ass the chief is going to be putting in a request for AK47s and body armor for us as well. And I don't blame him.\"\n\n\"Ok, the beacon is saying turn right up here on Seville street.\" said Alan looking at the GPS and pointing to two small blue dots. \"Looks like Wilson is on their way there too... along with Harrison and Yakima County police. Jesus, when's the FBI getting here?\"\n\n___\n\nBack at the house...\n\n\"Look, I know you're one of us now.\" Sherlock was back in the bedroom pouring some antiseptic solution onto the wound in Habanero's gut and squeezed some of the blood from his shirt over the pliers. \"I heard them call your name... it's Thomas, right? Detective Thomas Schillings, from Wilson County?\"\n\nHabanero just groaned and flashed his eyes at Sherlock briefly.\n\n\"It's alright, you don't have to say anything. I'm gonna get us both out of here.\"\n\nA shout came from the front of the house. It was Caribou.\n\n\"Hey, what the fuck is going on back there? We've almost got the doors and windows boarded up. Thought you were coming to help?\"\n\nThe bedroom door opened and Sherlock emerged with the bloody pliers. \n\n\"Trust me, he's one of us.\" said Sherlock, flashing the pliers at them. \"Ain't nobody around that can keep the truth from these.\"\n\n\"Jesus,\" said Caribou, \"there's blood all over them. Is the son of a bitch still alive?\"\n\n\"Unconscious... again.\" said Sherlock. \n\nKFC emerged from the kitchen with what appeared to be a small black box.\n\n\"Look what I found.\" he said with a cheery smile on his face. Sherlock held back a grimace as he realized what it was.\n\n\"Yup,\" KFC said, \"Police band radio. Let's hear what these motherfuckers are up to.\"\n\nThe radio crackled, sputtered and gave a high pitched squeal before something legible came through the wire.\n\n... all units... in pursuit... I repeat... all counties in range...\n\nKFC banged on the side of it, \"Goddamn static.\" \n\n...hostage situation... I repeat agent taken hostage...\n\nKFC looked up at the others in confusion.\n\n\"Wait... what?\" he said to Caribou. \"What the fu... Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.\"\n\nThe truth hit KFC like a drunken Colonel at a peace rally. \n\nHe's a fucking cop. He thought to himself. We brought Habanero back here... and he's a fucking cop.\n\nFor KFC, this changed everything, but he had to play it cool.\n\n\"A hostage... an agent hostage?\" said Caribou, more sweat pouring down his little bald head. \"So it's true... he, he's a cop?\" Caribou pointed to the door on the back bedroom of the house and reached for his gun.\n\n\"Now, just a second, \" said Sherlock, \"I assure you that guy is no cop. He would have told me.\"\n\nCaribou relaxed his grip on the gun in the back of his trousers. \"So, you mean you don't want to kill him?\"\n\nKFC, seeing Caribou's reaction and realizing the absurdity of the situation - he had been placed in a gang with a fellow detective without even being aware of it - knew he had to jump in and smooth things out.\n\n\"Whoa, whoa, easy there little fella.\" he said to Caribou, \"That dude back there just took a bullet for every one of us. As a matter of fact, how do we know it ain't you who's the agent? Huh?\"\n\nCaribou, just moments ago concerned that he would have to put lead into these two gang-bangers in order to save the undercover officer in the back room, came back at KFC with the faux aggression tactics he had been taught in training.\n\n\"Back off, motherfucker.\" he said to KFC, as he unzipped his pants. \"Would a fucking cop do this?\"\n\n Caribou dropped his pants and show the scar where his testicles had been removed. \n\n\"Jesus Christ, \" KFC started, but caught himself, \"I mean... yeah of course... we're all Scrotes here. We all get our balls cut off during initiation.\"\n\n\"Um, yeah.\" said Sherlock, backing away. \"We're... you know... so hardcore. That's what makes us the fucking Scrotes. Everybody knows that.\"\n\n\"So, yeah, put your pants back on for Christ's sakes. Ain't nobody want to look at your tiny weiner.\" said KFC, now disgusted by the whole ordeal and wondering how he's going to get himself and Habanero out of there alive.\n\n\"I need to take a piss.\" he said, walking out through the backdoor of the house.\n\n\"Yeah, alright. Well I don't ever want to be questioned again as to my loyalty.\" shouted Caribou as he zipped his pants back up.\n\nNever in my wildest dreams would I have ever thought I would be thankful for that freak lawnmower incident that happened when I was only sixteen years old. Caribou thought to himself.\n\n\"Holy shit...\" Sherlock looked through a crack in the wooden board that lay across the window of the living room. He saw a telltale trail of dust billowing up from the old dirt road that led to the house. \"They're here.\"\n\n____\n\nOutside the house...\n\nSurprised by the fact that they had arrived first, Victor and Alan sat in their police cruiser and debated about what to do next.\n\n\"So... are we just supposed to run in there by ourselves?\" said Alan. \"Or do we wait for backup?\"\n\nVictor thought for second, then reached into the back of the car and pulled out his bullhorn. He eased out of the car and then aimed the device at the front of the house. But before he was able to say anything, he heard a commotion coming from the inside of the car.\n\n\"Wait, Victor, \" Alan tried to get his attention with a loud whisper, \"Victor!\"\n\n\"Why the hell are you whispering?\" Victor looked inside the cruiser and asked him.\n\n\"Christ, I don't know,\" said Alan, \"but look... in the backyard... looks like one of them is taking a leak.\"\n\nVictor stalked his way around the side of the house to get a better look.\n\n\"What the....\" Victor said to himself when he saw the man. \"Casey... Casey!\"\n\nKFC heard something and turned toward the noise.\n\n\"Victor?\" he said in astonishment when he saw him peeking out around the corner of the house, \"What the fuck are you doing here Victor?\"\n\n\"What am I doing here?\" Victor asked, \"What the fuck are you doing here?\"\n\n\"I'm working undercover for the narcotics unit now.\" He explained to Victor. \"Look, you gotta get the hell out of here, there's two members of the Scrotes inside and another detective who is wounded.\"\n\n\"Listen man,\" Victor said with genuine concern chiseled into his face, \"you're the one who needs to get the hell out of here. Do you know who's on their way?\"\n\n\"Who?\" \n\n\"Wilson County PD.\" said Victor, nothing more needed to be said.\n\nKFC, or Casey, let his mouth drop as his eyes dilated at the sound of the news.\n\n\"Oh.\" he said solemnly, \"shit.\"\n\n\n(... to be continued...)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	6
	[WP] Mimes aren't actors. They are really peoole with the ability to interact with objects that are out of phase with our reality.	[ "\"How's he doing?\" Francesca asked the lab technician. Steve. Stan. Sam? Eh, she'd learn it eventually.\n\n\"He's got the framework in place, just seeding the lattice now.\" The mime in the empty, pristine ceramic chamber sat down crosslegged and began to meticulously place invisible beads at points in the air.\n\n\"Strain isn't too much?\"\n\n\"Don't worry, Lumiere is a professional, he'll signal if he starts to get worn out.\"\n\nThe mime stood up, took hold an invisble cube above his head and began to move it around, slowly rotating it along all three axes simultaeneously. Stan-Steve-Sam glanced down at the instruments in front of him, nodding as a bank of LED's blinked green. \"Lattice seeded, crystal growth within tolerances.\"\n\nThe mime let go of the cube, and stepped back, running his hands along an invisible surface at neck height. Bracing himself, he gave the object a solid push, his feet slipping back on the glossy white floor. Looking around him, he put his hands on his hips and nodded, smiling in satisfaction. He waved to the technician in the observation room, who waved back.\n\"Alright, we're done for today. It'll take another 3 days or so for the QPU to finish calcifying.\"\n\nFrancesca smiled, shaking her head. \"Absolutely incredible.\"\n\nAnd it was - until the tiny grain of diamond crystal in the assembly chamber grew large enough to be visible, no-one would be able to tell that the professional mime had just created the central kernel of a quantum processing unit, the fundamental building block of 21st century computing, using a set of quantum objects out of phase with 4-dimensional spacetime to manipulate matter at the subatomic level. It had taken a few years after the mime rennaisance for the nanotechnology applications of the skill to be discovered, but once they had been, cybernetics had exploded, fully autonomous swarms of robots maintaining sky-rise farms and city blocks and fine-tuning the ecology outside of civilization's population hubs to ensure maximum biodiversity, the dynamically adjusting biomes already beginning to produce some new subtle variations of fauna. And meanwhile humanity was free to expand into space, shielded by structurally perfect ceramics and metals, superconducting conduits channelling power to exotic matter engines and Alcubierre shuttlecraft. An interplanetary post-scarcity republic. Not a utopia perhaps, political tensions were still a real and present concern, but wars were fought with information now, military malware and counter-spyware dancing around each other in the Cloud. 10 people had been killed in international conflicts in as many years (officially at least).\n\nThe mimes had made it all possible. And with their art now enshrined as the most valued and revered skill in known space, they would enjoy their position as humanity's keystone for many generations to come.", " Most people assume we're actors. It makes sense; after all, you have to see to believe, right? But we are not actors. We are just individuals with an ability. We address ourselves as the shifters of reality, but most people know us as mimes. \n\n It's a great gig, the street act. All we have to do lean against a wall, or sit on a box and people throw money at us. We have haters sure, but doesn't any group that fits outside the norm. Of course, the street is small time. Some of us work as bank robbers, hired mercs, or bodyguards. \n\n We can create objects, pull from different planes of reality. We usually leave the objects shrouded, as to not arouse suspicion, but they are still real. Most people don’t think they exist, so they pass on through them. However, these creations can work as shields, for everything from fists to knives to bombs.\n \n I was once a member of a team that would perform daring and dangerous heists, kidnappings, and assassinations. We worked for the highest bidder and killed ruthlessly. We created a name for ourselves, but after years of infamy, the group retired and went their separate ways.\n\n So, dear reader, I beg of you this: The next time you see a silly man in black and white makeup, pretending to be stuck in a large box, just throw some change his way. After all, a mime is a terrible thing to waste." ]	2
Write in the baby's eyes, an adult who can see what babies see, whatever floats your boat	[WP] The true reason behind a baby crying is because they can see something that we can't.	[ "Barely audible, Jack began to sob. Half-written in blurry edges were the whitewashed lines of a pine crib. The immediate sphere around him was a haze. \n\nHe wished the same was true of the world beyond. Clear as anything he could still see the sparse plains, thick with rubble and shrapnel, and the broken remnants of outlying Baqubah just beyond. Gunfire and artillery echoed in all directions, pierced by shrill cries and baritone barked commands. \n\nHe looked up through tearful eyes as a helicopter roared overhead. The gunfire grew closer. He turned as quickly as his weakened neck would allow to the left, his attention drawn by a small explosion that caused a pillar of dust and debris. Karl was down, his mangled body twisted and bloodied, empty eyes staring, imploring Jack to somehow change what had happened. Jack began to holler in despair. \n\nHe briefly hears his allies approach from the right, but there was another boom, much louder, that left a ringing silence in its wake. He feels the pain as a dozen pieces of metal pierce through his chest and abdomen. He remembers that monotone buzz as landed on his back, facing up into a blue sky smeared with smoke. He screams despite the silence, anything to break the single sound that now tears through his head. The pain, he remembers, has exceeded any known limits and his body is numb through some divine mercy. \n\nHe forces himself to turn to the right, into the familiar face of Michael. His lips are moving as he consoles Jack. “Stay with me.” He says. “We’ll get you home Jack. You’re okay. Everything is okay.” Michael’s face slowly changes to one that is obscure and fuzzy and unrecognisable. The confusion causes Jack to wail even more. \n\n“Is everything ok honey?” Susan asks her husband, sitting up in bed. “Why is Jack so upset?” \n\n“It’s all so new to him. It must be scary. He’s barely a week old.” Nick picked up his new son, who was still inconsolable. \n\nJack opened his eyes. The few inches of unclear, dark fog would clarify in the new few weeks. The traumas that lie beyond would secede and dissipate. He would unlearn and begin again. \n\nBut for now the horrors were still too recent and too vivid, and all he could do was close his eyes, and scream for an end. ", "\"Did you check his diaper?\" Dad asked.\n\n\"Of course I checked his damn diaper, I am not an idiot.\" Mom snapped.\n\nThe baby continued to cry as the figure loomed in the shadows. He shouted louder and his screams seemed painful. His parents didn't understand what was wrong.\n\n\"Does he have a fever?\" Dad was trying to think of anything, they didn't have insurance, he could only find jobs working part time so the companies didn't offer it to him.\n\n\"If he had a fever I would have known, Jesus, do you even use your brain?\" Mom was getting frustrated from not being able to figure out what was wrong with her baby. Her cheek was against the babies forehead, she would have felt if the baby was warm.\n\n\"Fine, I give up, you deal with it.\" Dad stormed out of the room, the figure followed him. \n\nThe baby stopped crying.\n\n\"What? Are you mad at daddy too?\" Mom said sarcastically in a baby voice. \"It's ok, I'm mad at daddy, you can be mad with me.\"\n\nThe front door slammed. Headlights peaked through the slit in the curtains in the babies room, tires squealed, and dad was gone. Mom rocked the baby for a bit. \"Daddy will be ok, don't worry sweetie.\"\n\nA few hours later, the baby's father came back. He sat for a few minutes in the driveway with the engine running. It was as if he was about to change his mind and leave again. The vehicle door closed and the front door soon opened. \n\nMom placed the baby back in his crib and headed out to talk to her husband. There was a loud bang, with a bright flash. The baby began crying from the noise. Dad went in to see the baby. He cried louder as the figure was back.\n\n\"It's ok, mommy was a bitch, so daddy fixed it.\" \n\nThe baby was screaming and screaming. The figure's shape was changing, becoming more terrifying as the baby cried. His dad put him back in the crib and walked out of the room. He made a phone call, then another loud bang and flash. The sound scared the baby.\n\nThe neighbors had heard the noises and called the police. They were interviewed and the baby was taken out of the home. A female officer was able to console him. The male officer asked, \"Do you think he will remember this?\" to which she replied, \"God, I sure as hell hope not.\"\n\nThe baby went into the foster care system. He was transferred to a home with a husband and wife. They took excellent care of him until he was adopted a few weeks later by a loving couple. When they got him home he cried frantically.\n\nThey didn't know what to do so they took him to the doctor. When the parents stepped out of the room the baby calmed down. The doctor asked the parents if there was any abuse in the home. They both denied such claims and were highly offended. They left the hospital in an outrage.\n\nThe baby always cried when his adoptive mother tried to put him to sleep. When his adoptive father did he was fine. So his new dad got nap time and bed time responsibilities. One day, the mom was tired of the crying while her husband was at the store.\n\n\"Come on, sweet thing. Momma loves you.\" She reached for a pillow. The figure smiled menacingly." ]	2
	[WP]Write a story about a German soldier in WW2 so that you feel bad for the soldier.	[ "Everyday was the same. The snow, not white but a filthy, sickening grey stretched into the bleak horizon, blending into an equally grey sky. Every trudge forward was painful, blistered feet struggling to dig into the ashen snow. The surrounding country side never seemed to change, always the same snow, the same twisted trees, the same burnt out skeleton of a cottage.\n\nAround me were faces, too old or too young, worn down by age or wrinkled by fear. The officers, the sinister looking man in civilian clothing, the SS, were always around us, their cruelty the only thing keeping us in a war we did not ask for.\n\nWe did not lose to any army, but to the greed of a heartless dictator and the cold, harsh, Russian winter.", "I joined up for the same reason many men in my town joined: to fight for a proud and unified Germany. We were to be saviors of the world and drivers of the best technology and science around. In a way, we were. The Panzers, the Messerschmitts, the V2, it was all progress. We had pushed to the shores of Normandy and waited.\n\nThen in the early morning the boats came and we opened fire. The men fell like toothpicks, whole boats before they even hit the shore and yet the still came. Their resolve in what should never have been possible was the most heartbreaking and heroic thing I'd ever seen and as we got pushed back again and again, I would ask myself if what I had chosen, if whom I decided to fight for was right. It had to be.\n\nBut we just kept moving back farther and farther and everything seemed to get more desperate. Our unit was moved to the Eastern front and that was when I saw the trains packed with \"workers\". Dear God, those faces. Those looks. This was not the Germany I was promised. This was not the Germany I fought for. This was not my Germany. I don't know if it was mercy or cruel fate that saw me through the end, but every day after I laid down my rifle, I have had to live with the choices I made and the abhorrences I helped to facilitate.\n\nI can see the men muddied, bloodied, laying by the roads, under the bricks of blown out buildings, inside the fences. Whether I'm awake or asleep, their faces remind me of what true madness is.", "It’s ironic, don’t you think, having to pretend to be a Jew after what we did ? \n\nOf course I know what happened. Like everyone else, I didn’t believe it at first.\n\nAdler, yes, Adler, the guard from block A, he used to be an SS, as you know, he’s the one who told me about it. He said I needed to know everything so that you would believe me. So I asked him, and he told me. We would sit together, a couple of times a week, he would tell me the stories, and I would take notes.\n\nOf course, it would have been easier to pay someone off, but I couldn’t afford it. Not anymore. We lost everything during the war. Because my father was a doctor, and my mother’s family owned stores, we weren’t hit too badly after Brest-Litovsk and Versailles. My father was a good man, and a hard worker. He was wounded at Cambrai, and he was young, so he recovered, even though his lungs never really did. Luckily, it was too late in the war for him to be sent back.\n\nNo, he wasn’t a Nazi. He’d seen enough. My mother didn’t like them, either, they thought they were vulgar. Of course, they couldn’t tell me that. But they tried to stop me from joining the youth groups. I didn’t understand. They’d told me to say I wasn’t interested. But I was. So I told the teacher, Fraülein Grüber I wanted to join. They were furious, and they couldn’t show it. But I felt it, and I didn’t understand. I mean, Staatssekretär Von Schirach was her third cousin, once removed, what was there not to be proud of ? Maybe I could be like him, too - after all, it was in my blood, too… One day, when we were out on a field exercise, I told Hanz about it. And that idiot Hanz told Heinrich, because he wanted to suck up to him. And Heinrich told his cousin Fritz, who was jealous of me and Lieselotte, I guess. But I’ll never be sure why he told his father. They came early in the morning. With what they found, Vater was lucky that my mother had some pull, in a way - he was given the choice. He figured he would be more useful on the Eastern front. And he never came back.\n\nShe managed to smuggle herself to Switzerland with Konstanze, we have family there, you see, and they told everyone else he died of pneumonia on the train, of course. The party trusted me now. But I didn’t trust them anymore. I didn’t have another choice than to pretend. And wait for the right time. I got lucky in Poland, many times. We were retreating. A family hid me from the Russians. And then I made my way here. \n\nI was worried I would be arrested if I went back to Germany. And there was nothing left there for me, anyway. Our house is gone. My family is is gone. So I hid, in plain sight. I went to the cafés, went back to university, learned to paint.\n\nWhat do you mean, “just like the Führer” ? Not at all ! The Führer would have had the Schule des Sehens burnt down, and everyone arrested, and I was there studying with the others this summer. Of course, the faculty has been gutted. I mean, Vienna isn’t Freiburg. And yes, of course Heidegger joined the party. At the time, I was as disgusted as anyone else, but I too had to play a part, and I figured he was playing his. Anyway, it isn’t like importing German professors because they can’t find jobs back home bothers the administration, or the Austrians going to Germany bothers us, right ?\n\nYes, I heard that some of your guards had come back as well, I heard about Adler. He’s a smart man. He kept the numbers of those whom you registered, but died after you liberated the camps. Of course, he made sure the bodies couldn’t be found. Quite a miraculous recovery some of them made, don’t you think ? But the truth is, there is no other choice for people like me. Because of what happened with my father, Mutti never replied to the letters I sent her. Konstanze, either. So I don’t have a family anymore. Here, there is no future.\n\nOf course, I’m less of a victim than the Jews were !\n\nYes, yes, I understand that what I did was bad. But I was also honest with you. I told you what I know about Adler. Now, all I want is to be able to build a life.", "Every day it was the same thing - punish those who lost us the war. Preserve the A Ryan race. Kill them, torture them, work them to the bone. Every day I look down at their faces and see the emotion in their eyes. In some it's sorrow, in some it's fear, in most it's bitterness. \"What am I doing here?\", I think to myself. I'm a pacifist. I give profusely. I vomit at the sight of blood. I am not a killer. And you know what's the worst? I'm half Jewish. And my best friend just told my CO. ", "The Unit found him hiding in a closet, uniform too big for his frame, no weapon in sight. One of the boys chosen to defend Berlin. He wore the city more than the uniform - black soot and grey dust from his mottled blonde hair to his boots.\n\nThe Unit shouted, pointing guns at him, sneering at him, snarling like wolves at a cornered rabbit.\n\nBut the boy didn't understand their words. He whimpered, cried, and pleaded, \"Please! I'm no soldier! I'm not a soldier!\"\n\nMore words from the unit, and the men moved in, shouting. They grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him from the closet. The Unit was full of men taller than him, stronger than him, men who had wives, children. Men who had walked over a thousand miles through cities The Boy read of in school the years before.\n\n\"Please, don't hurt me!\" The Boy cried, and the tears mixed with the soot on his face and turned into black rivulets dripping onto the floor, \"I'm no soldier! I'm Sigmund Lindt, a boy from Berlin!\"\n\nThe Unit shouted at one of it's number, who said something back. Then they all laughed.\n\n\"No boy!\" The Unit shouted, German as bad as their breath, \"No boy!\"\n\nSiggy sucked up the tears as they pushed him into the hall. Another Unit had a girl in their fat, blackened hands. They were dragging her down the hall as she cried for them to stop. Siggy knew her from school. His older sister had envied the way that girl did her hair.\n\nWhen she fell to the ground, it was with her hair the soldiers pulled her up.\n\n\"My sister!\" Siggy suddenly shouted, planting his feet as best he could in the oversized boots, \"Where is she!? Where is my sister!? I demand to know -\"\n\nThe Unit put a boot into his back. More shouting in a language Siggy didn't understand while The Unit let him writhe around in the dust and the glass. Then The Unit picked him up and carried him. They carried him past a room where a girl was crying. They carried him past a room where a woman was screaming. They carried him outside, where the sun burned his eyes and the smoke from a nearby fire burned his nostrils.\n\n\"Where are you taking me!?\" Siggy asked, \"Where is my sister and where are you taking me!?\"\n\nA gust of wind blew strange sounds and stranger smells past the group, and then The Unit dumped Siggy to the ground.\n\nThe ground smelled of zinc, copper, and other strange metals. It was warm, and wet. Siggy caught sight of a thick liquid cutting through the dust.\n\nHe closed his eyes after that. He shouted again, \"My name is Siggy Lindt, I am just a boy!\"\n\n\"Not a boy!\" Shouted The Unit, \"A soldier! As our friends were soldiers!\"\n\n\"They were boys too!\"\n\n\"They didn't die like boys!\" The Unit told him, \"They died like soldiers!\"\n\n\"No,\" Siggy thought to open his eyes, but the liquid was still there and he didn't know what it was and he was scared so he closed them and said, \"No, but I am not a soldier! Please! I'm a boy!\"\n\n\"Today, then, we make a boy a soldier.\"\n\nSigmund felt a warm ring press against his temple, forcing his head to the wet ground. It was a brief, fleeting feeling.", "“Here’s your uniform welcome to the home guard” The man with one eye handed me an arm band. \n\n“Just this?”\n\n“Just that, now move on to the next line to receive your rifle and your orders”\n\n“Rifle? I’ve never shot a gun.” \n\n“Never shot a gun? How old are you?”\n\n“Sixteen” \n\nHe shook his head as he looked down at the paper in front of him and I heard him mutter: “So young” \n\nAfter a few seconds he looked up and seemed a little surprised to see me still standing there. He gave me a half-hearted smile and looked past me: \n\n“Next”.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n“Here’s your rifle, and your orders, you’ll receive ammunition upon deployment. Next!”\n\n“Where do I go?” The rifle felt heavy, foreign in my hands. \n\n“Trucks are out the back door, hand the officer your orders and proceed to the truck as directed. Next!”\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n“Orders please”\n\nI handed him my papers, I hadn’t even bothered to read them. \n\n“Last truck at the end.”\n\nI carried my empty rifle in one hand, my arm band in another, not sure what was going on. I got in the back of the truck and sat down next to a few others boys my age, each of them looking as scared and confused as I felt. I took the last seat, up by the cab of the truck. \n\n“Does anyone know where we are going?” \n\n“Berlin soldier, to defend the homeland from the Russians!” Came the shouted response from the cab, and the truck rumbled off,the draft station fading into the dusty distance. \n", "American artillery blasted across snowy plains, and not too far off the drone of Russian technicals made its presence known. Obersturmführer Haydn Rosenkranz felt the golden locket at his neck and sighed. The allied forces would soon close in, and Herr Adler would ensure he got a swift boot to the rear, assuming he and his men even made it out.\n\nAnother mortar shook his dug-out bunker, and even more dirt fell on him. Wood beams were splitting from the forces pounding above, some near the entrance already gave out and his soldiers scrambled through the opening. Once the last one was out he too climbed through and embraced the sunlight. The autumn had been unusually harsh, and already snow had fallen over the encampment. Trucks nearby were frozen over, and their diesel engines shuddered to life. Crates of weapons and ammunition were loaded, and inside the wounded were kept surrounded in nests of crate and wool. Not comfy, but at least they wouldn't need to walk.\n\n\"Scheiß.\" Rosenkranz again found himself with the golden locket, and this time he allowed himself a peek inside to the beautiful girl he kept locked within. She looked radiant and happy and that visage simply melted his heart. \"Ich komme wieder zurück. Wieder zurück.\" He kissed the cold metal and hid the trinket in his woolen coat.\n\nHe climbed into a truck towards the front of the convoy, and made route for Berlin. The countryside seemed unusually slow and still for a warzone and for some time he and his men sat in silence, partially out of respect for those they had lost and for fear of attack, not that their silence would last long. So much in the war had gone wrong, why would their escape be any different?\n\nA flash to the east and hell in front of him, Rosenkranz could only watch as his truck swerved out of the way of the first barrage of mortars, screaming off the road and into the nearby forest. It hit a tree and steam belched from under the hood, and with that Rosenkranz felt the cold ground beneath him and glass in his flesh. Despite the explosions around him things were far too quiet, he at least expected screaming if only his own. He wasn't sure if his comrades were being quiet out of fear, pain, or if their voices were taken from them.\n\nNight fell on him, and his truck sat only feet away. Inside might be blankets and food but he couldn't bring himself to check. He reasoned instead they would be destroyed by the explosion though he wasn't sure if that was true logic or if he was lying to himself. Wolves howled in the distance, apparently they had learned that after a battle there were plenty of bodies to clean up. Bear would be out too, rummaging for the last scraps of fat before winter. He shivered once and blacked out holding onto that locket.\n\nIn the morning he woke to allied tanks rumbling less than a kilometer away and the laughter of American voices. He wished he could feel sickened for what they had done to him, but he couldn't will hatred on another for no reason. He didn't even want to be here, the Americans weren't even his enemy. No. He hated the Geheime Staatspolizei, they that hurt his love Ewelyn. They that raped her and tortured her, they that he had to serve in order to buy the protection of his children. \n\nThe truck by him shook, and to his dismay a bear pillaged the crates of food he neglected to eat. His feet were too frozen to allow him to walk, so he opted to make as little noise as he could, and hope the beast might ignore him. To be safe he grabbed a Gewehr-43 that he recovered sometime that night, and bunked down. His Mauser would do him no good here. \n\nGunfire in the distance frightened the animal, and it tore away but its commotion brought the attention of an American sergeant sitting in one of his technicals. He ordered a few soldiers to Rosenkranz who found him clutching a rifle in one hand and a locket in another. One American snatched the locket away and made vulgar motions towards the pictured girl. His buddies snarled and howled with laughter. Rosenkranz was too defeated to do much about it, and instead murmured \"Ich komme wieder zurück mein Schatz, komm wieder zurück.\"\nThe Americans heard him, and stuck a Colt to his chest. \"Homesick, kraut? Dontcha worry buddy, we'll fix you right up. Can't feel heartache without a heart after all!\" \n\n\"Wir werden uns wiedersehen, ruhe in Frieden Ewelyn\"" ]	7
	[WP] 2014 Batman meets 1960's Joker	[ "I had just entered Arkham the other night. The guards seemed to be even more edge than when I wandered through in full suit. \n\n\"This ones a little different, Batman.\" He didn't look at me when he said this. He only took a long drag from his cigarette.\n\n\"where did you find him?\" I half expected the circus. He was in clown facade: a long curled and red lipstick smile, green hair, and a purple crushed velvet suit.\n\n\"We found him in the mayors office this morning. He was winding these chattering teeth and scattering them amongst the floor. We rushed in and he already had his wrists outreached, ready to be cuffed.\"\n\nrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnngggg\n\nThe doors slammed open, echoing through the laminate floors. Eventually we stood before his glass cage. He was seated, placing cards in tower formation on the cot's top-sheet. \n\n\"Welcome!\" He boomed like a ring-leader. \"What an honor it is to have the man bat in black. HAHAHA!\" A wicked smile never left his face.\n\n\"Look clown --\"\n\n\"Please please, do call me Joker.\" He took a bow. \"I do not sing. Usually. I am all the levity, none of the bravado. HAHAHA!\"\n\n\"What were you doing in the Mayor's off this morning? And why would you willingly surrender yourself to the police?\"\n\n\"Decoration my young man!\"\n\n\"You mean the chatter-mouths? We sweeped them, nothing hazardous.\"\n\n\"Hmm? Oh no no! I do mean the large and hideous 'Gotham Memorial' Statue. The eye-sore that was to make 1st Avenue a complete sty.\" An almost comical look of disgust wiped his face. \"The Wayne's never were that photogenic.\"\n\nMy gloves groaned as I clenched my fists. I could imagine myself breaking into the cell and beating the smile off of his face. Was this a slight? Does he know my identity? All the while my ocular screen inside of my cowl was searching facial recognition databases. No match. I too a few photos with a blink, sending them to Alfred and Lucius.\n\n\"You see Batman, I just wanted to swap some of the blueprints with ones of my own. Excuse me warden! Please provide the detective with the appropriate documents.\"\n\nThe warden presented the crudely drawn blueprints in a huff. The parking lot for the Greater Gotham Bank had it's left edge erased and redrawn, consuming the area designed for his parent's memorial. That was it. There was no possible way that this plan would work. It was almost cartoonish. I looked back towards the Joker. His face was contorted into a look of true panic and fear. Shaking, he thrust his finger, gesturing behind me. I completely fell for it.\n\nThe hall went dark for a moment. My sonar-vision flashed to life, illuminating the room to me in a silvery blue effect. \n\n\"The Joker is no longer in his cell.\"\n\nFlashes of voices yelling after the Joker were seen going down the south hallway. I could hear and see Gordon and three officers sprint. The warden was nowhere to be seen either. I spun in a tight coil, switching to a UV filter. I could make out one set of footprints, leading towards the exit. The lights flashed back on, turning off my UV filter. Tapping the side of belt, I signaled for the bat-mobile. The re-purposed amphibious tank swung around the corner outside of the asylum. As I exited I was greeted with an invitation, written in spray paint.\n\n\"Better luck next time bats!\" \n\nThe neon green lettering was traced with a specific isotope of calcium. This calcium was only found in oysters found off the bays of Gotham. It was a clue. Letting the others pursue the Joker, I returned to the cave to analyze the neon green paint. It only took a few minutes to drift through Gotham in my vehicle. As I began to climb from my bat-mobile, Alfred was approaching carrying data and a heavy-duty nutrient shake. I turned to my desk, turning it on. The files were expanded into view, flying as I commanded with a simple gesture. I sipped my shake. \n\nAhem \n\nI turned to see see Alfred, still pulling something from my cape. He was almost blushing. In his hand there was a piece of torn notepaper, attached to a strip of tape. The note read: \"Kick Me.\"", "\"Alfred, this man, he - he isn't like - He's not the type of criminal I'm used to.\"\n\n\"With all due respect, Master Wayne, that's because he's not the kind of criminal you trained yourself to fight.\"\n\n\"I know, I know Alfred, you already told me : He wants to watch the world burn. So, what, I burn down the forest? I can't go tell Lucius to get my gear back from the NSA, that would go over like a lead balloon.\"\n\n\"Or -\"\n\n\"Don't do it, Alfred.\"\n\n\"Or - \"\n\n\"Don't say it - \"\n\n\"A bat balloon.\"\n\n\"Damnit, Alfred, this is serious and you have to marginalize everything I'm trying to do with these tired puns.\"\n\n\"What - what did this Joker do? He shot you -\"\n\n\"With a paint ball.\"\n\n\"With a paint ball, Master Wayne. He's psychotic, but in the true sense of psychosis he has extreme swings, from the - the ultra violent, to this - the whimsical.\"\n\n\"That's a birthday balloon.\"\n\n\"Ah - it was a birthday balloon. But, if you think like he does, it's not just a birthday balloon, it's a -\"\n\n\"Fu - I am not going ride out in my militarized sports car wearing half-million dollar body armor only to have my entire strategy hinge on a nickels worth of imitation rubber.\"\n\n\"You're - right, Master Wayne. To capture this individual, you must be prepared to break your one rule.\"\n\n\"I'm not going to kill him, Alfred.\"\n\n\"No, I thought that rule was de-prioritized after that last - nevermind, the rule about, you know, that, that thing you had tailored for that evening with the girls from - \"\n\n\"Oh, hell no, Alfred, I am not parading around in blue and gray spandex with a goofy rubber mask and primary yellow belt.\"\n\n\"Don't forget your - \"\n\n\"I swear if you say it - \"\n\n\"Your bat balloon, Master Wayne.\"" ]	2
	[WP] A zombie apocalypse reveals that vampires have been living among us. The vampires soon realize that the zombies are causing their blood supply to dwindle.	[ "I crept along the wall, I could just hear the shuffling inside. All the windows on this side of the house weren't broken yet. But I could see the rear door, it was a floor to ceiling sliding door.\n\nThe problem with the shufflers was that they smelt terrible, and could easily hide the smell of a breather. But this house definitely had one in there. Probably in the roof. The shufflers weren't swarming the house, that meant that they were smart.\n\nThe eaves of the house extended about 20 centimetres past the wall, not enough for me to get through. If I was going to get into the ceiling and have a quiet chat, I'd need to deal with the shuffler inside. Odds are good that the breather used to live in this house. And odds were also good that the shuffler used to live in this house.\n\nNormally I could just draw the shuffler away, rip their head off and get into the house. That was how I got into a house where all I needed was the food inside. But this time I needed to get into the roof, get the breather onside and then get them out. If I killed the creature that used to be their best friend, sibling or spouse, then the odds were pretty good that they wouldn't want to come with me.\n\nThe fence on the other side of the building was brick, I could easily float onto it, then climb onto the roof. But I had to get past the glass sliding door. I put myself against the wall just to the side of it, edging a look inside. I couldn't see anything moving inside.\n\nI risked it. I leapt across the door's sight. Stopping as quietly as I could once I was outside the sliding doors view. However many of them were inside, they hadn't spotted or heard me.\n\nI moved to the wall at the edge of the property. Using a single arm I pulled myself up on top of it. I extended a foot onto the roof, hoping the tiles wouldn't make any noise as I slowly increased my weight onto it. I could feel as my weight moved from light as a feather to full strength. Even tonight with no moon I couldn't fly forever. And I needed to start moving tiles.\n\nI put my second foot on the roof. I hadn't made any sound as my weight settled. I began to creep up to the apex of the roof. Looking for a good spot to start removing tiles. I found one about a third of the way up. I grabbed a tile and slowly began to slide it out place. Before the great death I could have been playing some sort of parlour game.\n\nThe tile came. The ones above it didn't move. I pulled the tile next to it away as well. I looked in.\n\nA torchlight shone in my face. I covered my eyes with my hands. I whispered as quietly as I could\n\n“Stop that!”\n\nThe torchlight went off.\n\nMy eyes re-adjusted. I could see perfectly in the full darkness. My speech has made it clear to them that I wasn't a shuffler. I pulled 2 more tiles away, making a hole large enough for me. Below me in the roof was beam about 2 meters below. I jumped up and fell directly through the hole, slowing my fall as I did.\n\nI came to a near total stop before my feet touched the beam.\n\nVerses the original blackness, they seemed to fill the entire space, though I know they would be invisible at almost any distance.\n\nInside the ceiling was a woman with two children.\n\nI groaned slightly. The shuffler was probably the children's father.\n\nThey had placed a mattress across a series of beams that held up the ceiling. They didn't have much in here. I could smell a bucket they used as a toilet. They had probably been here the entire last 2 weeks.\n\nThe woman held her children close to her. They were 2 boys, about Eight and Ten.\n\nI put my finger to my lips. There was a beam that went from my position to their mattress. Cans of food were lying on the ceiling, each of them not enough to cause it to collapse.\n\nI mimed a walking motion with my hands, facing their direction.\n\nThe woman nodded.\n\nI easily moved over the beam towards them.\n\nI knelt on the mattress next to them. I put my hand out.\n\nShe looked at the faint green glow coming off my fingers.\n\n“Jouline.” She whispered.\n\n“Timothy.” I said back.\n\nThe youngest boy looked at me and said “That's my name.” in a soft whisper. Clearly everything in this household had learnt how to act, even at night.\n\nI smiled at him. The other one said “I'm Robert”\n\nI kept the smile on my face and looked back at their mother. She had a very cold look about her.\n\n“Are you here to rescue us?” She asked.\n\n“In a way, I'm actually out looking for food for an enclave, but finding survivors is always welcome.” I said.\n\nShe let a slight amount of disappointment out. I was another survivor, not the cavalry. There was no organised force out there about to save them all.\n\n“How did you do that fall from the roof in here without making a sound?” She asked.\n\nShe was a smart one. I decided to just be honest.\n\n“Do you really want to know?” I asked\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“The enclave I'm from. It was built around a coven, I'm a vampire.”\n\nShe nodded. There was absolutely no shock in her voice.\n\n“Have you met one of us before?” I asked.\n\n“No.” She said, her face was still almost frozen in a coldness I had come to see often in survivors, but even then she had it stronger than most.\n\n“Most people are pretty shocked when I tell them Vampires exist.”\n\n“You floated as you fell, your hands are glowing. My shocked phase was 20 seconds ago.”\n\nThere was a sound from below.\n\nWe both looked at each other, the boys hadn't said anything during the whole exchange. This family was on the brink, but they were focussed. And the woman was smart.\n\nWe waited 30 seconds in silence after the sound.\n\n“Are you going to kill us?” She asked.\n\n“No.” I said.\n\n“You're not shocked I asked?” she questioned me.\n\n“It's the first question most people ask. But no, I drink blood. But it doesn't kill people, it just drains them a bit. And my bites aren't infectious. We're actually not really that threatening.”\n\nShe eyed me. “These aren't my kids. But I'll look after them. And I don't trust you yet.”\n\nI looked at her directly, I had to be honest, I was pretty attracted to her. Most survivors were tough, but she was something else.\n\n“I understand.” I said.\n\nWe paused again.\n\n“We have about 300 breathers, that's normal people. And 19 vampires in my coven, including me. The coven looks for food and survivors at night, the breathers look during the day. Sunlight doesn't kill me, it just makes me lose my powers.”\n\n“Where are you?” she asked.\n\n“Moon shopping centre.” I said.\n\n“Are there werewolves too?” She asked.\n\n“What? Oh, the name. No. It's just where we ended up.”\n\n“I thought about heading there, but I figured cos it happens all the time in movies, the shopping centre would be swarming with idiot survivors.”", "I awoke for the first time in 40 years to friction of a wooden stake sliding out of my chest. This isn't the first time I've been pulled out of torpor, but it's still quite a shock slipping into the deep sleep by the hand of a trusted companion and then waking instantly to find that many years have gone by. As expected, my childe, Eliza, is here to greet me.\n\n\"How are you feeling?\" She asks, a look of relief plainly visible on her face.\n\n\"Refreshed,\" is the simple answer. Torpor has that affect on old and world-weary vampires like myself. I spy a young human standing a ways behind her. \"And hungry. I see you brought me breakfast?\"\n\n\"No!\" She's unusually adamant. \"He's not for food, but I brought you these,\" she says, producing a few bags of medical grade plastic, each filled with about a pint of blood.\n\nI can't help but frown. After that delicious Latvian boy that she brought me last time, this is quite a step down. Still, one ought not to complain about breakfast in bed, so I cut open a bag with my fangs and slurp down the sweet red nectar. It's lukewarm, but I haven't eaten in 40 years so I power through the unappetizing feel as it goes down my throat. While I'm drinking, Eliza is scanning the perimeter anxiously. My resting place was a coffin buried on a hilltop far from any place the mortals are likely to disturb. Nonetheless, she seems nervous that we will be disturbed.\n\nAfter downing two bags of what I can only describe as utility food, I stand to join her and break the silence. \"What's wrong, Lizzy?\"\n\nShe looks back at me and smiles. Unusual, considering that she used to hate the nickname that I started calling her by in the 1920s. As if that wasn't enough she suddenly locks me in a tender embrace, burying her face in my shoulder and rocking me gently. \"Oh Aemilia, I'm glad you're back.\" \n\nShe composes herself, wiping a red tear away before turning to face me again. \"We have to move now. If we stick around too long, we might start to attract a hoard. I'll explain everything as we go.\"\n\nShe leads me down a winding path that cuts across the hill and into the forest below. After she's satisfied that we've put enough distance between ourselves and my coffin, she begins to talk. \"About six years after you went into torpor some overeager vampires chose to reveal our existence to humanity. I suppose they were right to do so. You remember camera phones and such? Well they got even better and it wasn't long before everyone had one. It was only a matter of time before our existence was proven in photo or on film, so I suppose they wanted to get ahead of that nightmare and make the first move.\"\n\n\"Regardless, it wasn't long after our existence was revealed that humans began to wonder at our immortality, which was now nearly within reach. They began research on our kind-\" She stops, noticing the involuntary look of disgust on my face as I recall a painful incident in the 19th century. My own dear Eliza was kidnapped and made the subject of bizarre and twisted experiments, all in the name of unlocking immortality for humanity. \"The subjects were voluntary,\" she adds for my benefit before continuing. \"In any case, the results were promising at first, the blind were made to see once more, the cripples given new legs, and cancer rendered no more than a nuisance. But the humans continued to delve deeper into the mysteries of our existence, craving immorality for themselves. What they created, however, was neither kindred nor immortal human. \"\n\nShe pauses and a grimace covers her face, the next part of her tale clearly difficult for her to relate. \"Do you remember what happens when one of us tries to bring a human into the fold and the transformation fails?\"\n\nOf course I remember, it's the greatest taboo of our kind to let such a creature continue to exist. \"A mindless creature is born. A half-formed vampire consumed by an unearthly craving for flesh. It must be destroyed or its bite will create more abominations of its kind.\"\n\nI can already tell what's coming next, but I don't want to believe it until I hear the words. \"That's what they created and it got loose.\"\n\nWe walk in silence for many hours as I come to grips with how the world must have changed during my sleep. Food had been abundant and easy to come by when I had last walked the night, but now humans would be sparse and guarded, and of course the tainted blood of an abomination could not sustain us. No wonder she'd brought me bags of blood. Was it even reasonable to feed from a live human anymore?\n\nFinally I emerged from thought and remembered our third traveler. \"Why is the human with you, then? If not to drink from?\"\n\nShe smiles, the first glimmer of hope dancing across her face since she woke me. \"That's just it, Aemilia. He's immune. Bitten before my own eyes and yet he lives. There's a cure - a solution - somewhere in his blood, we just have to find a way to harness it.\"" ]	2
	[WP] A person has lived the same life billions of times and tested out all its possibilities. Describe the life he/she settles on and spends an eternity living.	[ "The river flowed by at my feet. Living wears a man down. \n\n\nMy first run through, I lived life just like everyone else. Worked hard. Chased down my wife. Had a handful of children... I couldn't even tell you their names anymore. Died surrounded by loved ones and immediately started over again.\n\n\nMaybe everyone is like that. I don't know. What I do know is that not everyone keeps their memories. I did.\n\n\nI wiggle a loose tooth with one of my dirty fingers. It is about time for that one to come out.\n\n\nOn that pass I remembered enough about the stock market that I was able to live rich. Money, women, fast cars... died of an overdose at 27. Started over again.\n\n\nA quick yank cleared my mouth of the offender. I'd never get used to that feeling no matter how many times I experienced it. I tossed the black tooth into the river and spit out a mouthful of blood to help it on its way.\n\n\nPass three I started my science / inventor kick. I would come back to this one a bunch of times later on, but this was the first. Everything was new and exciting. Turned my inventing room into a crater with an over-juiced invention.\n\n\nThe clouds were starting to look like rain. I didn't move. It hardly mattered.\n\n\nBy pass ten I was having trouble finding things to do that I hadn't already done to death. Even being an inventor loses some of its kick when your inventions just cease to be after a certain point. I decided that being a volunteer might be the way to go. Did several lives of this. Got a Nobel Peace Prize once.\n\n\nBut you know? Living just wears a man down. I've done everything. I've seen everything. Hell, I've screwed everything. \n\n\nSo now, I just sit here by the river in my rags and watch the river go by. Sooner or later I'll die. And then I'll just do it again.\n\n\nForever.", "Day 7765, Saturday.\n\n8:00am. It wouldn't work unless it was a Saturday... I gotta get there fast. Ok. I gotta eat. I ain't coming back home soon.\n\n8:25am. I got dressed just in time. Mom's calling to wish me a good birthday. I pick up the phone and answer. \n\n\"Happy Birthday darling!\". \n\nI respond. \"Give dad a hug when he comes back home.\" \n\n\"How'd you know he was gone?\" I turn the call off. I really have to get there in time.\n\n8:35am. The flower lady's about to cross the road. She's talking on the phone so she doesn't hear the car coming. I pull her to me just in time.\n\n\"Thank you son... How can I ever thank you? Have a bouquet. It's the least I can do.\"\n\n\"That's everything I'll ever need.\" I run towards the lottery store, that's just on the other side of the road. I grab the bag that flies over me. Crap! I'm falling behind. I have to grab it with my left hand and I almost drop the bouquet. It's fine though. Gotta hurry!\n\n8:40am. Manage to beat everyone else to the line. I'm the first to go in. I say the numbers, pay my ticket and get out. The damn receipt machine broke again. Thought that wouldn't happen again.\n\n8:55am. I stumble across the robbery. He brought a gun this time... Damn. Wasn't counting on that happening this time. But maybe he forgot to load it again.\n\n\"Hey you! Stop it or I'll call the cops.\"\n\n\"Or what?\"\n\n\"I'll call Senna and tell her where you get your kids allowance.\"\n\n\"How'd you know?! You're some sort of freak.\" He goes for the punch. Dammit! I got hit. I thought he wouldn't realize this time. Last time was the same. As soon as I get hit I kick his bad knee. The right one. He falls to the ground in an instant.\n\n\"Call the cops. He's not going anywhere.\"\n\n\"Thanks sonny! Have something for your trouble.\" She passes me two hundred dollar bills. Nice! I can buy dessert this time. She always says that was the favorite part of the date.\n\nI run to the restaurant. Transports will start the strike at 9:03. I have to run.\n\n9:31am. Dammit! One minute late... Bill and Nora must be in front of me in the line. Yes! They are. The waiter's about to trip, crap! I'm too late. I'll have to yell this time. \"Watch out!\" Just in time! He didn't get food over him.\n\n\"Hey thanks man! Want to join us for brunch?\"\n\n\"No thanks, just here to make a reservation.\"\n\n\"Go ahead of me then, it's the least I can do. Name's Bill.\"\n\n\"John. I'm in a hurry Bill. I'll see you around.\"\n\n\"I bet you will.\" Bill was cocky this time. Nora musn't have hit the car this time. I'll meet him in a few days again. I reserve a table for two. Now, I just gotta catch the train. They aren't on strike like the other transports.\n\n12:37am. I got seat B37 the way here. I guess I'll only meet Dan on my 24th birthday. Too bad... I was counting on his help this time. Just gotta wait in town for a while now. The train was late. No time for the new suit.\n\n12:51am. I got seat C33 this time. Man, I love the window view. The train's malfunctioning. Perfect! She's running late this time 'cause of the flat tire. Now I can meet her on the train ride. Hope she doesn't give up though.\n\n13:44am. The train's really bad this time. She's probably having lunch in the station waiting for the train to get repaired. I have to wait, otherwise she'll be freaked out by me and feel ackward. It can't be like the first time.\n\n15:04am. Alright! Train's fixed. Took a while this time. Here she comes.\n\n15:07am. Ok John. Show time!\n\n\"Hey there? C34?\"\n\n\"Yeah! How'd you know?\" She smiled this time. We're off to a good start. Had she been thinking of the train delay she would've been freaked out.\n\n\"You look like a C34.\"\n\n\"Really? How does that work?\" She sits down. The party must've been cancelled this time, otherwise she wouldn't have said really.\n\n\"I'm not sure myself. Name's John.\"\n\n\"I'm Sarah.\"\n\nI'm Sarah... that means she's marrying me if I take her to dinner with the money I got and our four children's lives will be ensured with the lottery money I'll win tonight... She'll love the bouquet I got here on the bag I caught. She always does...\n\nI've had my 21st birthday 1,231,045,921 times. But, meeting her everytime and growing old with her every time... it's worth it.\n\n((I had to cut it short because of the comment word limit... whoops xD))", "---Obligatory first post disclaimer: I have never posted anything here since i did not think i had anything to contribute but i guess i should start somewhere. \nIts a bit of a mess and im sorry if its kind of hard to read but i just write like i think, which obviously is not the right way but im an not even a begginer so i guess its still excuable, right?--- \n\n They say that life is meaningless. That it’s made up of random occurrences no matter how much we want to believe it is controlled by fate or god or whatever you choose to deceive yourself with. Well, my friend, they are right. There are enough possible realities to go around as there are numbers to count. Of course everyone knows, deep in their subconscious lies the memory of the previous “life” they had in another time, at another place, in another body but they conveniently forget all about it when they get to the next. It seemed curious really. I never would able to forget everything that happened to me and believe me I’ve tried.\n \n I have relived my life as the president about 50 times, and I must say it’s kind of unnerving to see how much can change if one lunatic slithers into that position; you’d be surprised how many times that happened by the way. So anyway, I used to try my hardest to create my ideal life but at the end there was always something missing. Even with all the money and power in the world I could not be truly happy. I was having a blast of course but I was incomplete. Makes you think, huh? I must be some kind of self loving, arrogant son of bitch who can’t settle even for the whole of the world… I guess in a way that’s right or I would not be here. \n\n At some point or other I learned to control everyone. Personalities don’t vary as much as you’d think. That “everyone is unique” crap they lay on us in school is really non-applicable if you get to see everyone a couple of billion times. At any rate I could turn into a very powerful man any time I wanted so trying out dictatorship for a while was a given. Again I tried really hard to make my perfect place, but it felt even worse than the previous tries as president, even though admittedly it was a lot easier to get shit done when I acted with the with the masses unable to hinder my tries, resistance was suppressed easily and after a couple of decades utopia was not really far from reality. It wasn’t hell for the people either, everyone had decent lives. However I get the whole attitude towards dictatorships since if you don’t have the “gift” of restarting your life it can be pretty tempting to only make your life better as opposed to the life of the people.\n\n Having control didn’t really work so maybe I was trying too hard right? Yeah that was what I thought too. Go with the flow and just wait. Well waiting is no fun, and neither was any job I tried. I took advantage of a bunch of my lives to learn what I wanted but I am no genius. Sure I understand the data but I can’t bring anything new to the table. It’s not like I’m any special. Well except for the immortal thing but that isn’t anything I made possible. So there I was. A dude with no job, considerable amounts of cash (surprisingly the stock market predictions the president had filed were going up until the late 3000s and i must say they where spot on) and I could be the life of every party, be it a wine tasting or a college frat beer fest, since apparently I’m interesting and knowledgeable or a bruh who knows my shit when I try. So, drugs were nice. Didn’t give any more meaning to those lives but they sure made them fun (aside from the ones I shut down unexpectedly and had to restart again).\n\n Yeah, the answer wasn’t that easy, man. Meaning wasn’t as easy to find after all. But for some time I thought I had it. Love was, surprisingly, allot like having a purpose. I was excited about living after a long time (well from my point of view anyway).Kids are awesome too, especially having a daughter taught me allot of things I thought I knew. Apparently even after all those lives, women still remain a bit of a puzzle. But even true love becomes mundane once you get that it isn’t really something you only experience for one person. I was sure I had found my soulmate every time. Every one of those times I was completely in love until I laid eyes upon my newer love each time, only to fall into the same circlejerk again.\n\n But I get it now. The whole forgetting the previous life deal everyone else gets is the best you can expect. Don’t look at me like that, it’s true. They only suspect the darkness that surrounds them, they can still say “they say” before declaring life meaningless. They have hope. I on the other hand am now sure of it. And it’s more true for me than anyone, since I am alone. Truly and irreversibly I have made myself unable to make friends, love or even hate someone.But I have i can only play what i was dealt, I cannot die or forget but i can still live even if I only have you to help me cope now. You are my self induced dose of ignorance, my fate, my only true God. And yet you too will be gone after enough time and you will be replaced by another. For the reasons to live are the clouds. Ever moving, ever changing,out of our grasp but they are always there.\n\n----\nEdit: formatting and a word" ]	3
	[WP] You are walking alone down a old dirt road after you car has broken down. You are approached by a lone car and the driver offers you a ride back to town. During the trip the driver tells you something that changes your outlook on the world forever. What did they say to you?	[ "## advisory\n\nRules 1, 2 and 10. \n&nbsp;1. No low effort / joke responses / copypasta - This includes \"this has done this before\" comments. They will be removed on sight. Mercilessly. \n&nbsp;2. Top level comments on a post must be story or poem responses! - Requests for clarifications are ok too. \n&nbsp;10. Responses ought to be at least 25 words! \nUnless a prompt strictly requests short responses. This subreddit is meant to encourage writing, not encourage a single sentence or two.", "I got in the car figuring I didn't have much choice. I thanked the driver, and said I'd pay them back as soon as we could get to town. On the way to town, the driver said to me, \"There's something I must tell you now.\"\n\nI asked, \"What do you mean?\"\n\nThey explained, \"Your car has been sabotaged. You've been selected for the opportunity to join a secret police. Are you interested?\"\n\nAt first, I thought it was an odd joke, but then I realized the 'driver' wasn't driving. The car was steering itself.", "\"Hop on in the passenger side.\nImma tell you a story while we take a ride.\nI can't take you where you're goin. I'll take you where you need to be.\"\n\nHe took me back to the day that I had set you free.\n\nSomething must be changed, I guess. That's why I'm here, I know.\nI turn and take your hand again, and beg you not to go.\n\nInstead of walking out that door, you pour your heart to me.\nAnd now, six long years later, my daughter's birth I see.", "\"I can kill you or I can kill one random person, 3 days from today, several states away from here. You don't know enough to stop this from happening, but you do have a choice in the matter.\n\nI already picked the other possible victim. She has no idea about any of this and she won't unless you choose yourself over her. She's young and she's married with two young children and a baby. If you choose to live instead of her I will walk behind her one day soon while she's at her favorite park and I will fire two rounds into her head. I will not physically harm her children and I will never reveal to anyone that you had a choice if I am eventually captured.\n\nI'm going to stop this car about a mile from town and then you are going to get out and make your choice; you have the remainder of this ride one way or the other.\"" ]	4
	[WP] A young man sits on his porch enjoying his last cigarette, reflective on the future. He knows two things: that he will affect the course of history tomorrow morning and that he'll die nameless.	[ "The meteor is growing bigger in the distance. The eerie green glow irradiated the sky. The world is in full panic, nothing they tried has worked. The missiles did as much good as flicking toothpicks at a basketball.\n\n40 years ago he decided to step out of the public's eye. It was time to stop living for other people and start living for himself, but that didn't work out. The woman he loved left him, the children grew up, his quaint house on the farm now served as a wooden prison he couldn't escape.\n\nHe looked up at the sky, fixated on the meteor. He knew what it was made of, and he knew what it would do to him. He walked into his bedroom, opened up his closet and changed his clothes. Then he jumped off of the roof.\n\nIn the city, cars are crashing into the buildings that hug the sidewalk. People are looting from shops and setting fire to the roads. But in an instant, the chaos is paused. The citizens look up and see a second object flying towards the falling rock. Then a voice is heard...\n\n\"Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane!\"\n\nA burst of light blinds the earth as the meteor splits into millions of pieces.", "He wanted to imagine that the smoke was dancing, like a musky dervish from the glowing tip of tobacco and conflagration in front of him, but he thought better of it. How many cigarettes had he smoked in his life? It was hard to say, if it even meant much at all. The last of something is hard to gauge that way, he thought. It always seems to wear the regalia of a proud moment, to stand apart from everything before it, whether it's earned those medals or not. Like a pauper in courtly clothing that doesn't really belong to them, it begs for recognition. Sometimes, he thought, it's too easy to give that to them. \n\t \nEli had always been a thoughtful sort, even if he'd gotten pretty good at ignoring that part of himself in recent years. College had done that for him. After growing up in the baked, tan wastes of West Texas—where the only thing that grows in good Christians, like he was raised to be, was complacency and acceptance—he had felt something was coming. In his late teens he had outgrown his faith after a lengthy war of attrition between his upbringing, his doubts, and the guilt running like vital fluid in the trenches in between. But by the time he had finally made it out of that town, so mired in someone he needed to feel he used to be, he was ready to scare himself a little. No more trenches, no more war. Armistice and exploration now; a farewell to fear, for now.\n\t\nAt first it was work. The city was a new place for Eli, much less the university lifestyle and all the accouterments that came with it. As different as he'd felt in his home town that lived as though the bible was still at the top of Best New Fiction magazine's hit list several-thousand years running, his backward idiosyncrasies felt like shackles amidst what might have been Woodstock University. After a few awkward days, poking his head into new paradigms, meeting people who felt as foreign as any entity might, he was feeling understandably daunted. But after the drinking, the sex, the love (and the few times they met), the drugs, the parties, the mistakes, the hospitals, the regrets, the triumphs, the books, the plays, the music—after the cocktail of things that he had drunk to transmute this new life, he had successfully become a person his old self no longer knew. He loved that. And he loved that he hadn't been the only one. He'd made a small militia of friends who, like him, had morphed and grown and made their place in each others' histories. The cocktail was communal, sacrificial, and beautiful. \n\t\nAnd yet, here was the bottom of the glass. The last night on his balcony in his senior dorm was swaddled in thick, humid heat, and the sky—if he could only read it—displayed stars like some eloquent farewell. And yet, he thought maybe that was in the same vein as the cigarette smoke that was, in fact, not the whirling dervish he'd like it to be. The drink had made him sober to some things, and in that moment he took an inventory, reading the constellation inside himself like he wished he could the one in the sky. Here was the truth, so far as he could tell it: things were going to be different. \n\t\nJust as he had become somebody he could no longer be, he knew now in this bittersweet moment that nobody can be who they were yesterday—no matter how much they'd like to be. The drinking that had brought him so much courage was now too much, his smoking to frequent, and his aggressively lackadaisical attitude toward seriousness was becoming a barrier to a life he never thought he'd live long enough to encounter. He knew now, having left the confines of his small town for a world that had once felt so expansive, that this world was small now too. He had come from nipping at the heels of opportunity to leave to clinging to any shred of a past now cemented in a time he could never return to. \n\t\nIt was time to find his courage again. So Eli took the last puff of what he declared his last cigarette, inhaled it deeply, and dedicated it to this thought: “Tomorrow I become who I will be on the way to who I will become. I will be who I will. Life is a nuclear reaction, and we are particles that bounce, that react, that change and expand, until everything around us is neither better or worse—simply different.” And as he released the smoke, now truly a dervish, he new that his history might be the only one he knew, and that it might mean nothing against the stars that told no story but to those who tried to interpret them, but that it would be a history nonetheless. And that, he thought, would be enough. And he ran the burning end of his last cigarette across the horizontal iron railing of his balcony like a signature, went back inside, intending to let history forget him.", "On a warm breezy night Jim is out sitting on his porch wondering when the rain will come next. It's been too long since it has last rained yet he was ok with that. He realizes that as long as it doesn't rain he doesn't need to mow the grass. After taking one last drag from his cigarette and flicking the butt onto the grass he heads inside. Jim has been having these weird visions all day of flames bursting about yet since he's new in the neighborhood he's afraid people will think he's a little crazy talking about it. He walks around examining the inside of his house, afraid that some of his cords are frayed. He examines each one carefully checking every inch as he makes his way to the bathroom. He enters the bathroom and blows out the candle that his girlfriend forgot about while he brushes his teeth and takes a whiz. He goes to bed having this nagging feeling that he's forgetting something as he tosses and turns in bed. Eventually after laying awake and thinking for far too long Jim heads back to the bathroom to take some sleeping pills to make it easier to fall asleep.\n\nLater that night, from the cigarette butt he flicked out onto the grass, a small breeze kicks up the butt and it touches a blade of grass. Smoke is slowly rising up as the grass blade begins to burn. Slowly it takes the life of the blade of grass as it spreads onto another two and then from those two they keep multiplying. Suddenly a small blaze emerge from among the grass yet it is too late. It's been weeks since the drought has taken affect and the lawn bursts into flames. As the fire flickers and dances around the yard it catches onto the nearby fence and spreads from lawn to lawn. Many houses catch on fire yet with all the screaming and yelling many of the people were able to get out safe and unharmed and a few with just minor burns and scrapes. Unfortunately Jim had taken one too many sleeping pills didn't hear any of the commotions until it was too late." ]	3
No idea if this has been done before. If not. Enjoy!	[WP] Humanity has discovered a way to view the future. For some reason they can't see past a certain date: the day before Half Life 3 is released.	[ "The time was among us, it was mear moments before Half Life 3 was released! Everyone was excited!\n\nAfter years and years, the circlejerk for Half Life and GabeN was getting bigger and bigger. As midnight struck billions upon billions gallons of cum came flooding from every direction in the entirety of the world. It had happened the circlejerk got too big, and as Half Life was released the world drowned, in GabeN's followers cum. ", "Well, we had finally caught up with the machine, the date was March 2, 3333 in hindsight I think this was Newell's release date from the beginning, that clever fucker.\n\nWe had about 2 hours left until the midnight release, that's when shot got real.\n\nHundreds of thousands of rockets fell from the sky bombing several major cities across the world while most rockets seemed to randomly hit fault uninhabited areas, and the ocean. I lost most my family and all of my friends.\n\nI turned the news on and reports of damage came in. There were three million people left and 3 countries standing. No one has taken responsibility for the attack, and speculation was everywhere. \n\nWas it Nouth Korea?\n\nWe scavenged the land and drank radioactive water. This killed of 66.666 percent of the remaining population over the course of 3 years. \n\nLife was barren. I had my pistol in my mouth and right before I pulled the trigger a projection filled the night sky.\n\nIt was from Valve's moon headquarters. It showed film of the attack as Valve's private military prepared set up and launch their massive strike on Earth. The image that stuck in my head and will for the rest of my life was the craters created by the rocket spelled out HALF LIFE 3 CONFIRMED! Mr. Newell could be heard maniacally laughing in the background.\n\nAlone, on the empty beach next to the fallen monkey overlord's statue of liberty I feel to my knees and sobbed \"Noooooooooooooooo!\"" ]	2
	[WP] Write sonething that will make me weep for humanity, check under my bed, and laugh out loud all at the same time	[ "\"Lord Kelvin to The Hobbit. Come in Hobbit.\" Static crackled over the receiver. Callsign: Lord Kelvin, 3rd Battalion, Night patrol. Kelvin remembered the nights of his childhood, so different from the nights of the present. Back then, stories were meant to scare children into behaving. Ghouls, vampires, demons. Stories that kill men today. \"Come in The Hobbit! It's almost dawn, I need you to make it out of here!\" Nothing but static. Maybe they had pinned him down. Maybe they had eaten him. Kelvin flicked his night-vision down again. The building smelled of damp and rot. A chill had set into the air that favoured the dead. It kept them cool, taut and awake. It slowed Kelvin down. The irony was not lost on Kelvin, that the temperature worked against him. He checked his clip. Three thermite rounds. One clip of standard ammo. Might as well be deer shit for all the good it would do. Kelvin loaded the std clip. One thermite round behind each ear. The last one went in a breast pocket. \"Come in The Hobbit. This is Lord Kelvin. Do you have a position?\" Still nothing. He had to move. He checked his watch. 5am on the dot. That meant sunrise, soon. That meant salvation. Kelvin eased himself against the wall. The cupboard was small. He had hidden here after losing Hobbit. Two vamps in the building, a nightmare. How many clips had he gone through. Too many, that was the answer. Kelvin braced his back against the wall. The sun was getting ready, it was time to go. He kicked the cupboard door, hard. It met resistance. He kicked again. It gave way. \n\nThe door flew off its hinges. Two ghouls. The first turned towards him. It rushed, teeth aiming for anything that moved. It bit down instinctively on the first target to present itself. The barrel of a loaded gun. Bullets shredded what was left of its maggot-ridden head. It fell to the floor, twitching, still alive. Had to burn the bodies if you wanted to kill them. The second ghoul struggled under the door. Kelvin put a boot on the door and jammed the barrel through an eye socket. Fragging the brain stopped their movement, but not the half-life. Kelvin turned. He ran. The corridors threatened his footing. Left, then right, then left. He turned a corner, saw movement. The barrel moved first, pointing at head height. If it was a vamp he was done for. Only thermite could hurt those bastards.What he saw instead, was another barrel. Behind it stood callsign The Hobbit.\n\n\"Kelvin, we need to go!\" Kelvin nodded. They sprinted for the entrance. The building had become more navigable in the light. Soon they would make it out. A shriek came from behind them. Hobbit froze. His legs gave way and he fell to the rotten boards. \n\n\"Not today Hobbit, get those boots moving!\" He sent a boot into Hobbit, pulling his psyche out of the shriek. Hobbit ran, Kelvin turned. The vamps were coming. Each had three mouths, one in the usual spot. One on each hand. They looked more like leeches than vampires. \"Fairytales need some fairy dust.\" Kelvin took the first thermite bullet, jamming it into a grenade before pulling the pin and flicking his wrist. Hobbit must have made it outside. He turned and ran. Behind him the grenade went off. Another bullet, pushed into the empty clip. Then the second. Two left. Damnit. The sun shone onto his face. It was as if he had found water just before the desert dried his bones. Sudden pain, wrenching his leg. He turned as he fell, staring at half a vamp, legs gone, left arm broken. The right arm was deep into Kelvin's leg. He raised the rifle as he fell, driving first one and then the second bullet through the head of the vamp. The ammo ignited inside the head. It would have been more noteworthy if he didn't have a hand sticking through his leg. \"Hobbit!\" Kelvin cried before the world went black.\n\nKelvin came to. He was lying against an abandoned car. They were still in the hot zone, but there was daylight. Hobbit sat further. Kelvin's eyes focussed. There was a little girl walking towards them. Impossible. No child could survive a night in the hot zone. \"Hobbit, be on guard.\" Hobbit laughed at the thought. He had always been weaker rationally, preferring fiction to fact. Hence the callsign. \n\n\"Its a girl. She's in the sun Kelvin, it can't be evil.\" Kelvin had to admit that made a lot of sense. They watched as the girl approached, careful not to scare her away. She looked malnourished and dirty, but otherwise unharmed.\n\n\"Help.\" was all she said. \"Help\", always only this. She tugged at Hobbit's sleeve, pulling him to the North. \n\"Are you turning, Kelvin?\" he asked, instead of can you walk.\n\"No, it seems that the bleeding saved me. But I can't run, and I can't handle much action.\" They shuffled, the pitiful three, to the North. By midday they had reached a building with boarded windows. The girl went inside. \"I dont like it\" said Kelvin. \n\n\"She went in, so can we\" replied Hobbit. They entered. A knife came from nowhere. Hobbit was down, a wound to the leg. Kelvin turned, clicking frantically, the empty clip offering little protection. The woman backed away, then went for Hobbit's throat. Kelvin swung his gun like a club, flooring her. \"Mommy!\" cried the girl, rushing to her mother's side. The woman sat up, dazed. \n\n\"Let me kill him, please,\" she begged,reaching for the knife again. Kelvin raised the gun as if to club her again; she retreated. \"You don't understand. The demons hunt this part of town. If they don't have fresh meat they hunt us!\" Kelvin looked to Hobbit, then back at her. His mouth turned sour. \n\n\"Where does the fresh meat come from, huh? You use your daughter to lure them here, then you feed them to the demons. Is that it? Is that what I've been fighting to protect? What is wrong with you!\" The woman flinched at his harsh words. The girl began to cry. Kelvin stood in shock. Why would a human do this? To survive? Is it possible that we have sunk so low, to act as animals? Self-preservation. Had it become the golden rule in a world of death? \"Hobbit, give me a clip.\" he said with a heavy finality in his voice.\n\n********************************************************\n\n\"Calvin, Hobbs, time for dinner.\" Cried mom from the back porch. \n\"Mom!\" shouted Calvin, \"Its Callsign Kelvin. And Hobbs is Hobbit. Geez.\"\n\"Alright my little troopers, how was the adventure?\"\n\"Gruesome,\" Calvin replied. \"Both of us are wounded, there's demons on the loose and we're almost out of ammo.\"\n\"How awful,\" mom said in shock horror. \"Now get out of the winter cold and come get some hot food into you.\"\nCalvin gave one last look to the outside and whispered \"We'll be back for you\" before throwing off his shoes and going inside.\n\nFin*\n ", "It's night time again. I curl my feet up on my bed carefully, not aware that I am holding my breath until I am forced to gasp for air. The silence looms, heavy and dark. Then, it starts. That scratching. A horrid sound, slowly becoming a wet sound, as though the nails on a hand had given way, and now bloody stumps were continuing to dig at the floorboards beneath my bed, beneath me. I'm too terrified to speak for a moment, but finally, the sounds die down, and I can breathe again. I scream for my parents in horror, then scream for them not to come in when I see them standing at my door.\n\nMy drunken mother stands there glaring at me a few moments before shaking a cigarette out of the pack, lighting it with shaking hands. As she exhales, she speaks in a loud, angry voice, scratchy with whiskey and Marlboros. \"What ya in here yellin bout, brat? First ya want us in there, now ya don't. Can't ya make up your damned mind? Fucking brat.\" She spits on the floor in anger.\n\nIn a trembling voice, I asked for my father.\n\n\"Father. Father! You ain't got no father. Don't no one like ya. Always whining and crying like a big baby. I don't blame him for leaving nights. Hell, iffen I didn't have to take care of ya by law, I wouldn't even be here. Ruined my fucking life, ya did. Look at me. I used to be beautiful. Then I got pregnant with your sorry ass, and got fat. Fucking fat. Cause of you!\" She spits on the floor again, then stumbles away, cackling as though she'd told the funniest joke. \n\nAs she walks away, the scratching starts again, but it slowly slides out from under my bed and heads down the hall. I get up silently and follow the sounds. I'm standing outside my.....egg donor's door, holding my breath, when I hear the wood under her bed splinter.\n\n\"Jordan! What....what are you....why did you.....I don't....\"\n\nSuddenly, I hear my father's voice, right by the door, as though speaking to make certain I heard his words as well.\n\n\"Brittany, you're no sort of wife. You're no sort of mother. Mikhal is not the reason I leave at night; you are. You reek of whiskey and urine most nights, but on the worst nights, you rank up a whole room with your flatulence, and sometimes you even add vomit to the smells in this house. Mikhal does good by you, trying to clean after you every night. He tries to be a good son for you. I tested not him, but you, by scaring him, and sadly, even when he's terrified, he has better bowel control than you. I'm surprised you managed to stay so fat after he was born, especially with how frequently you relieve yourself into your clothing, but I think I know now what the problem is. All of your brains have given up fighting, and sunk into your stomach, and fermented like your favourite alcohol. Poor bloated fool. But I got lucky. I managed to escape you and this house of hell. But I found a new hell. And now, it's time for you to see it.\"\n\nI hear the bitch scream, and nails dragging against wood, followed by a loud, wet, sucking sound. Soon, the screams and the sucking both stop, but what I hear then gives me both chills and hope. \n\n\"Mikhal will never see this,\" came my mother's trademark croak. \"Mikhal is too good for this. He will never see this hell.\"\n\nHer voice had broken, and I can hear her breath, trembling and gasping for air. I hear a loud thump, and then something being dragged underneath the house, something large, and I smile. I know that my drunken mother will never abuse me again." ]	2
	[WP] The very last tree in existence is about to be cut down.	[ "A slight hissing is emitted from the powerful air oxygenators, or oxies, filling the damp room with a fresh, if somewhat industrialized, scent. Blinking away shadows of dreams, Jonathan forces his body to sit up against gravity’s will. The hidden wall sensors track his movement and turn on screens showing beautiful people who know much more about the world than he. These are the people he trusts. \n\nJonathan shuffles towards his desk to start his day’s work. A hot mixture of ginseng, B12, and cayenne fill a cup from a spigot on the wall. A government provided energy replenisher. Very few working people even know of this luxury. But Jonathan is more deserving than most others. He is temporarily blinded by the retinal scan that allows him access to secure files. Suddenly his screen fills with images.\n\nJonathan’s job is to filter out media that his employers see as harmful. Things that the American public don’t need to know about. \n\nTroops in India: PASS.\nStreet Violence in Chicago: LIKE.\nGovernment Surveillance: PASS.\n\nNo opinions involved. He is trained to immediately know the wants of his employers. His brain doesn’t even need to digest the information before the button is clicked and he is offered another image. Deep-down, he wishes techies from around the world would stop trying to upload the unfavorable images and stories. It simply makes Jonathan’s job harder. He chews on this idea while constantly filtering.\n\nA video of a tree falling.\nBlack soil around it.\nAir filled with soot.\n“THE LAST”:\n\nPASS. \n\nIf only Jonathan was given something important. \n", "On a riverbank in what used to be western Canada, a beaver takes a break from chewing through the tough interior of a fir tree. It looks around, blinking in the grey light, listening for the slightest sound of approaching predators; hearing none, it gets back to work.\n\nAnd a few minutes later, on an unremarkable day that mimics the billions of others that have passed on Earth, the last tree collapses sideways and hits the ground. The beaver, already at work and breaking branches off, doesn't notice that nobody is around to mark the occasion. \n\nAll around, it is quiet, and it is cold." ]	2
Trying the vague prompt this time, let's see if it gains any traction.	[WP] ...and that's how I got these scars.	[ "When I was a small child I always asked my parents to check under my bed for monsters. Every night we'd go through this routine, me asking my parents and them checking under the bed and in the closet. Over time I forgot about the monsters and my parents stopped checking under the bed and in the closet. That is when my own personal Hell began.\n\nI could not have been more than 14 years old, sleeping in my bed dreaming of the cheer squad captain. Mumbling in my deep sleep when I was woken up violently. My feet were being yanked off the bed and all I could do in my hazy state was look down. In that moment my blood ran cold and I felt the lump in my throat form. There on my ankle was a hand blacker than the pitch black room around it. Never before had this happened and all I could do was scream. \n\nMy parents ran into the room asking me why I was screaming in the dead of night and all I could do was blubber about a hand and being yanked out of bed. They told me it was just a nightmare and to go back to sleep. How could that have been a dream? I felt the thing's icy grip on my ankle trying to yank me out of bed. After that ordeal there was no way I could have gone back to sleep. \n\nThe next night was no better. The hand came back seeking my ankle and every time I would scream and get yelled at by my parents. Eventually, my parents decided to take me to a doctor and I had tests done on me. Nothing seemed wrong so they sent me back home.\n\nThe next night is one that has been burned into my memory for eternity. As I sat frozen in bed too scared to sleep, I saw what the hand originated from. A large gangly figure who's head almost touched the ceiling. Oh god those eyes, those large, yellow eyes that pierced my being. There was no trace of morality in those eyes, no emotion, it was just a blank stare that you often see sharks having. At this point I had soiled myself and was crying like a small child, hoping it would do nothing else. It saw my fear and knew it had complete control over me, and so it smiled.\n\nNever before or after have I felt such fear in my life, there is nothing that can compare to the horror I felt that night. This thing, this monster stood above me, knowing it could do whatever it pleased, and so it did. The monster took its large, pitch black hands and grabbed my ankles, smiling even wider to show its jagged teeth. \n\nThe monster then took the other hand and started cutting my leg with its long, talon-like nails and this made its smile grow even wider. I could do nothing, I was in shock. My heart was beating and my head was pounding, my entire body screamed, \"Run!\" but I could do nothing but watch. \n\nI finally snapped out of it and looked around my room, at anything but that thing. I looked around and tried finding something to fight it, I decided my only option was to fight for dear life, even if it killed me in the process. So I did just that. I kicked the thing in the gut and ran out of my bedroom. Running down the hallway I looked over my shoulder and saw nothing but those eyes. Those god forsaken eyes that peered into my soul, and grew bigger with each stride it took.\n\nI had to run. I had to get down the stairs to tell my parents. I had to run away from this. My plans were interrupted though because the thing extended its arm and slapped me against the wall, making me crumple to the floor. It walked over to me and set its large foot on my chest, making sure I couldn't escape again.\n\nOh god, those eyes kept staring at me. That thing kept smiling at me menacingly. I panicked, I flailed and tried to scream, but my voice abandoned me. It raised its arm and its smile grew wider. I flailed more but to no avail.\n\nFinally, it stopped raising its arm and its smile showed its teeth again. Then it flung its arm down, and I flailed. It started cackling like a demon and I flailed and finally was able to scream. When suddenly, I knocked the light switch on and it vanished. My parents ran upstairs and found me crying on the floor and saw my leg. I couldn't bring myself to tell them my tale, so I stayed silent. Never again though did I sleep in the dark though for fear of those god forsaken eyes, and so you see, that's how I got these scars.", "It was an early and eery morning in the home. I woke up just a few minutes before the phone call. It was as if i expected something to go wrong. A sense of feeling that pulled on my skin from the inside. An emotion that pricked me and woke me up. When it did, I still wasn't ready for it.\n\n\nIn a phone conversation, your mother she screamed and poured out her words in gargles and wails. I didn't quite make out the conversation, but I got the gist of it. It was my father. He was in trouble. He was breathing his last and I was over an hour away. In a haste, I jumped in my car and sped through the yellow and white lines on the road. It seemed as if I drove on padded wheels. The feeling it was overwhelming and unbearable. The screams and piercing coughs in the background they haunted me. But I drove. And I made my way home.\n\n\nUpon reaching the door, I saw the television screen behind the curtains. The window shades they dropped. It smelled like death and ugliness. It looked like a dark whisper inside. I felt defeated and heartless. On the bed, a lifeless corpse with a decisive look in its eyes.\n\n\nI am still tormented. And that's how I got these scars.\n" ]	2
	[WP] Second Draft - Go back through your history, pick out a response you wrote to a prompt, and revise it. Post both the original and the second draft for comparison!	[ "It is the cries of gulls that wake Dieter Hagedorn from his deathly sleep, their caws harsh and unwelcoming.\n\nHe opens his eyes, staring up at an overcast sky in a look of dazed confusion. A retching cough comes forth from his lungs, makeing him roll onto his, and his earlier meal of cod and onion spills out onto the damp sand in a yellowish bile. Bits of food drip from the corner of his mouth as he clenches his fists in nausea, dragging his nails through the wet earth. The sound of the waves buffets his ears as the smell of the salt air stings his nose. His clothes are ragged, his filthy shirt plastered to his soaked body. Cuts and scrapes cover his body, courtesy of the broken timbers and jagged rocks that line the shore. His lips are cracked and parched from thirst. The want of water is unbearable. With great effort he rolls over to the other side, facing the treacherous ocean from whence he came. A look of disgust and contempt for the force of nature that tore apart his ship like so much cordwood crosses his face. He tries to draw his legs beneath him to rise, but only manages to meekly push around sand with his feet. A low moan emanates from Dieter as another bout of sickness takes hold, spilling out even more precious liquid onto the damp shore. Eyes roll up in distress like some panicked beast as all strength vanishes from him.\n\nGods, not this, not like this. Please, don't save me from the sea only to kill me here. Please, not like this. Please\n\nA lifetime of regret and shame spills out of his heart as he lays helpless on the shore, precious tears splashing tiny divots in grey sand. Low keens come from unmoving lips as limbs fail to obey his commands. Gulls and skuas flock along the shore, staring at him in frank curiosity, almost as if they had never seen a man before. Tired, Dieter shuts his eyes, shepherding what little strength he has left. An unknown amount of time passes before he hears something aside from the waves, wind and the birds.\n\n\"We have another body. Washed up last evening.\" Comes the distant voice. A man's, an old one. Followed quickly by a girl's.\n\n\"What is it, Papa? Another whaler?\" Asks the bright young voice. \n\n\"Likely, though most have learned to say away from the Storm by now. Now only merchants who don't know better get caught up Her Gale. \" Says the gruff voice. \"Pretty fresh, the crabs haven't gotten to him yet. We'll have to dig a plot for him. Dear one, go see if he has any ink on him. Perhaps he'll be able to have a name on his grave.\"\n\n\"Yes, Papa.\" Says the girl's voice, a darling sound to Dieter's dehydrated, feverish mind. Foot steps on the damp ground, very small, growing closer, and closer. Until...\n\n\"Papa!\" She screams. \"His chest is moving, he's breathing!\" Those same small foot steps leap away at her discovery.\n\n\"Get away from him, Abby! Behind me!\" Orders her father.\n\n Dieter's back is turned away from all this. He so desperately wants to speak, to call for aid, but his throat is swollen shut. All he manages is a croaking cough. A thumping sounds on his back while a piece of stained fabric is thrown around his vision.\n\n\"Don't touch it for your sake, trust me on this. Best keep your eyes closed for now. You about scared my daughter to death, you know that? 'Though she could hardl- never mind. The fact is, if I were to dash your head with my shovel, I'd be doing both you and me a great favor. You were not suppose to wash ashore alive. Because you don't know decent courtesies, you've made everyone's lives much more difficult. Living people don't belong here.\" The old man mutters.\n\nDieter's head spins. \"What ar-\"\n\n\"Hush.\" The old man commands. \"We'll bring you back to my home and get some water into you. You look like you've seen some demons and no mistake. Well, things are going to get much worse for you before they get better. Sara!\" He calls out. \"Fetch the cart.\" He returns his attention to his patient. \"Originally we were going to the graveyard, but your condition warrants a change of plans. Come, we'll get you to safety.\"\n\nDieter nods behind his blindfold. \"What's your name?\" He asks.\n\n\"Sean Makem of Durham. Riding Officer for the stretch between Port Aran and Stephens town. Allow me to be the first to apologize for you arriving on the Aran Islands. And yours?\"\n\n\"Dieter. My name is Dieter Hagedorn. As for where I'm from...\"\n\n\"Dieter, eh? Well, I dare say you'll be somewhere very soon. You can just say you took a knock upside the head when your ship went down. Addled your mind.\" The sound of a horse whinnying stops him from continuing. \"Alright, grab my shoulder, I'll help you up into the cart, and for gods sake don't touch that blindfold. We don't want you losing what's left of your head.\"\n\nThe dizzying motions keeps Dieter from asking what the old man means. With a grunt he pulls himself up, face frowning as he feels something strange.\n\n\"Your shoulder,\" Dieter says. \"It's-\"\n\n\"Bony? Yes well, I'm afraid I've been missing a few meals.\"\n\nHis daughter giggles from the driver's seat.\n\n\"Alright, maybe more than a few.\" He admits. \"Come on, let's get you water.\"\n\n- - -\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You gain a superpower, but discover that using it is damaging the people you love. How do you react?	[ "This is the sequel/second part of another similar prompt I did a few weeks ago:\n\nhttp://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2nga3a/wp_a_young_man_gains_super_powers_at_the_age_of/cmdej4r\n\n__________________________\n\n\nHis clothes burnt off as he burst through the amosphere. He had never flew this high before. He didn't know how his superpowers would react to the vacuum of space. He soon found out that in space he was just like anyother person. The oxygen siphoned from his lungs and his saliva began to boil. Before he blacked out he felt the the gentle, almost unpreceivable tug of Earth's gravity latch on to him. \n\n___________________________\n\nThe strong aroma of chicken broth filled Marks nostrils. For a moment, his mind drifted into nostalgia. His mom used to cook him chicken noodle soup when he was sick. How he longed to see his mother again. Her touch, her laugh, her voice... he knew better than to focus on thoughts of the past and quickly shook them off. \n\nHe opened his eyes. He was in a strange bed covered in a patchwork quilt. A box-fan on a fold out tea-table rattled near a screen window at the foot of the bed. The wall was littered with posters of country singers. Underneath one, was a dresser with make-up and jewelry scattered about it. \"Where am I?\" he thought. He sat up quickly, and a pain shot through his whole body. It was frightening, he couldn't even remember last time he felt pain, probably during his last fight with Strange-o, a deranged clone of himself, but not even that beating brought about the amount of pain he felt now. \n\nHis thoughts were interrupted by the sound of clinking dishes in the next room. He attempted to peer through the wall. Nothing. His x-ray vision wasn't kicking in. He strained his eyes trying to focus but it only caused his head to hurt. He placed his hand on his forehead in pain. \n\nThe door creaked open. \"You're finally awake.\" came a voice sweet like honey. \"I've made you some soup.\" Mark looked up. It was an older woman, probably in her late forties. Strands of grey ran through her brown hair. Her eyes were deep blue and oddly youthful. Pocked skin hugged her face tightly. She had familiarity about her, but Mark could not place it. With knobby fingers, she held out a tray in front of him. On it, a bowl of steaming bowl of soup and glass of apple juice. \n\n\"Thank you.\" Mark said as he took the tray and placed it on his lap. She took a seat in a wooden chair next to the bed. \"Where am I? Who are you?\"\n\n\"I’m Karen. This is my place.\" she blushed. \"I'm sorry, I know it...\"\n\n'It's okay,\" Mark interrupted. ”My name is Mark. Why did you bring me here?” he took a spoonful of soup. \n\n“I brought you here. I found you naked in the prairie.” She paused for a moment. “You fell from the sky,” Nervousness shown through in her voice. “When you were still breathing, I knew you must be one of them, a super person. I knew what would happen to you if I brought you to the hospital, so I brought you here.” She was referring to a recent leak of classified documents released by whistleblower and hacker Julio Passant. In them it revealed that the US government had secretly been conducting experiments on super beings. \n\n“Thank you. How long have I been out?”\n\nKaren seemed hesitant to answer, “T..two…two weeks.” She finally managed. “Though, you have been in and out of consciousness.” \n\nHer compassion was amazing, caring for him for that long. “Did I say anything? Do…do you know who I am?” \n\nShe reached out and placed her hand on his bare shoulder. “You babbled some, but I really paid no attention.” \n\nHer touch was tender, and welcome. It was rare for him to feel another humans touch. She smiled at him warmly. Even though she was older than him, he couldn’t help but feel an attraction. That's when he noticed her front tooth. It was chipped. Fighting pain, he managed to peek over the edge of the bed at her ankle. A chain of daisies encircled it. He started to get dizzy. A flash of insight came, he had seen her at the diner; she wasn’t old. It was him; his powers, they were sapping her life away. But how? He didn’t even know her, let alone love her. Or did he? Perhaps at a subconscious level, her altruism and nurturing had moved him. He had been in and out of consciousness; he would have seen her, felt her touch. \n\nStill, he hadn’t used his power, he couldn’t use his powers. Unless, no, it couldn’t be! All his power had been directed inward, to keep him from dying, to heal him. He had been using his powers this whole time. He tried to stand. His legs were weak and pain shot through him. He grabbed the blanket to steady himself, but he fell to the floor dragging it with him, spilling soup and juice. \"You have to get away from me!“ He yelled. “I’m dangerous!” \n\n“Now don’t you worry about me.” Karen replied as she grabbed him and helped hoist him back on the bed. \n\n “You don’t understand, my powers, they are killing you.” he was starting to sob. \n\n\n“I know” came the soft reply. “I know.” \n\n\n", "The first time I had used it, I didn’t mean too. It all happened so fast that the actual act of doing it slips my mind. All I can recall is the before and after everything in between was just a mistaken blur. On weekends when we were with our mom, my twin brother and I would go over to this quarry as we would try to pluck crawdads and fish out of the water. We would bring my mother’s dog, who like a third brother to us would often frolic as he too tried to snatch up little fishes with his mouth. One day as we were making our way back home we came across an animal with tusks the size of a man’s fist. It glared at us as we slowly tried to back away. Barton, our dog, growled as he tried to intimidate the warthog but the beast wouldn’t back down. With each step we tried to limit the sound of the crunching leaves on the ground but it only took the sound of a crunching branch where the hog went into an all-out berserk mode and charged towards us. We dropped the knapsack of crawdads as we ran towards the field that would eventually be our mom’s ranch. Once we reached the knee high open grass plains we stopped as we tried to catch our breaths. Miles was right next to me as he reached for his inhaler shaking it nonstop till finally he pumped that medicine into his lungs. The still breeze calmed both of our hearts as we looked back into the forest. Miles had noticed it first “Where’s Barton?” I looked around to find that our chocolate Labrador was not there. Frantically I yelled “BARTON!” into the wood abyss “BARTON!” I screamed louder. Each scream was echoed by a softer tone of my brother’s voice. There was nothing. My eyes started to swell up as my brother kneeled down tearing as he said to himself “Barton’s gone’’ I looked back at him telling him to “shut up” as I didn’t want to face the inevitable. And as I turned back towards the woods like superhero emerging from fires of a battle I watched our dog Barton return to us. This is where things get hazy. I remember Barton collapsing a few yards in front of us with blood dripping on his beautiful brown coat. There was so much blood that his entire left side was made black. Then a blur. After that, I remember my mom screaming at me “What happened to miles?” in the field as she picked him up smearing blood from the bottom of us face down to his neck. With one arm free she grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to her as tears fell from her eyes raining down on my hand. She yells over to Barton “Come!” in a stern voice as he races towards us with his tongue flapping in the wind, jumping over rocks. ‘What happened?’ I thought to myself. No one could explain what happened that day but Barton lived and Miles ended up in the hospital as they treated him for massive loss of blood. \nBtw-Loved the prompt and I could expose the story more if anyone wants to hear it but I wasn't sure as it was a bit long. ", "I discovered my ability on my 21st birthday. I laid in bed that morning in my small studio apartment and expected the day to go about as miserably as all the rest. Except, when I sat up on this cold morning, and I reached for my slippers, they came to me. I held my arm out as if to pick them up, but they levitated right over to me instead. Initially, I was shocked, and figured I must still be dreaming. Most dreams only last a few moments, so I took advantage of what little time I thought I had. I wanted to learn how to control my fantasy. \n\nBut it didn't end. I didn't wake up from some awesome dream. I was living it. I began documenting my progress in a journal, so that if one day someone were to try and convict me of losing my mind, I'd have evidence in my defense. However, my writing soon ceased when my mother called me late at night about a month after acquiring this skill of telekinesis. \n\n\"Honey, your father has taken ill. His heart gave out earlier this morning, and it looks like he won't make it for very much longer.\" My mother's voice was tired, and I could sense that there was more. \n\nThere was. Soon, more of my relatives began to suffer heart conditions. Everyone assumed that it was brought on by some virus. Doctor visits proved to be of no avail. I moved out of my small studio, and went back home to help take care of everyone. I thought my ability might be of use to them. \n\nMoving heavy objects seemed to be piece of cake, and the larger the object the more I enjoyed influencing it. Because everyone else was too weak to do much, I became their hands. Reorganizing the guest bedroom? No problem, I'd just have to look at the bed and it would shift to where I wanted it. \n\nBut the more I used my powers, the sicker everyone got. At first it was just the heart conditions, but now it was osteoporosis and organ failure. My dad passed a little less than a month after I moved in, and my mom was hanging by a thread. I dreaded the days when another relative would call and complain of chest pains. \n\nI had to put two and two together. Before I moved in with my parents, I had lived a few blocks away. From there, they went into heart failure. When I got closer, that's when things got worse. Even our dog felt the effects of my power. I was doing more damage than good. \n. . .\n\nSo that's how I got here. I calculated the greatest distance I could be from them in order to avoid hurting them. My power isn't as useful to me anymore because of the consequences that it is acquainted with. I'm afraid to use it around anyone and everyone. Using it drains the people that are most important. It takes all of the good within them and turns it into evil. \n\nPower is only selfish, never generous. \n\n" ]	3
	[WP] You are fighting in a civil war in your country. You are watching over captured soldiers of the opposing forces, and see one of them is who had been your best friend for the first 10 years of your life. You did not meet since he moved away 15 years ago.	[ "–Paulo? I said, looking down at one of the captives. –I did not expect to see you on the side of the Republicans. You used to love the emperor. I remember when we were neighbors in Rio, we used to go see the parades every year with our parents. \n–I did. Paulo replied sadly. –But my loyalty is to the cortes at Lisbon. \n–But why? What are Lisbon and Portugal to us? Paulo, we are Brazilians! We were neighbors in Laranjeiras! I used to go to your father's fazenda every day! We went to see Dom Pedro arrival in Rio! \n–I know that, José. But all of your relatives are in Brazil now. I still have aunts and uncles in Coimbra. We were friends. But I am Portuguese. \n–What about your family in Brazil? And our friends? José, Henrique, Francisco! We are all fighting for the emperor. Your parents died in Rio! \n–And they were buried in Coimbra! My parents were Portuguese, as am I! Brazil belongs to the cortes, not to the emperor! To the Portuguese people, not to a royal dynasty that left its country at the mercy of Napoleon! \n–What? Almost everyone was fleeing Portugal! Your parents included! And the cortes at Lisbon colluded with Napoleon! The members of cortes are the ones who betrayed Portugal, not the ones who fled! \n–My uncle always said it was bad for me to spend time around a mongrel like you... I think now he was right. My father was a fool to let me spend time with you.\n–Paulo...\n–Shut up. Don't talk to me, you fucking piece of filth. Go rot with your goddamn traitor of an emperor, since you love him so much.\n\nI stopped. It was obvious that Paulo was firm in his decision. I would never be able to convince him. This was not my childhood companion. This was not my former best friend. His fifteen years in Portugal, living with his uncle after the death of his parents, had changed him into someone I did not know. An enemy. A captive, who had just cursed the name of my emperor and called him a traitor. It was treason. The penalty for that crime was execution. \n\nThat night, I went and spoke to general Henriques. I told him of my conversation with Paulo, and how he had been my friend as a child, but that he had changed and that he had committed treason. The general asked me if I was sure, if I really wanted to accuse my friend. I said that I was. So the general decided that justice would be served at dawn. I did not come to see, but I heard the shots. And wept for the loss of the Paulo that I had known and loved, but not for the stranger that was now dead. ", "I paced along the line of kneeling prisoners, most of them bent down submissively with a stunned look in their eye. Except for one.\n\nA slim, white figure missing his left hand remained in top notch posture, well, the best posture that you can muster while on your knees. I raise my Energy Rifle and approach the confident figure.\n\nI kneel down to his height and look into his eyes through my suit's visor.\n\n\"So what did they call you back home?\" My voice produces a more robotic sound through the Vocalizer. I didn't need an answer though.\n\nThose eyes.. bright, burning ambers. A long, sunken face. A tiny scar below his eye.\n\n\"Ronald J-\"\n\n\"Ull.\" He looks at me, confused that I knew his name.\n\n\"Ronald Edwards Jull. It's been a long time.\" I smile behind my helmet.\n\n\".. Who are you?\"\n\n\"Your old friend.\" \n\n\".. Ryan?\" His voice loses its earlier deepness, holding a higher tone now. I nod.\n\n\"What happened to you, man? Why are you on their side?\" His eyes scanned over my visor, turning soft now. \n\n\"I should ask the same of you Ronald.\" I open my mouth to say something else, when a nearby explosion is heard. My comms blare moments later.\n\n'HOSTILE UNITS APPROACHING FROM WEST AND SOUTH. ENEMY AIR UNITS SPOTTED.'\n\nI quickly stand, and feel something pierce through my visor, pain radiating through my cheek and ear. My back slams into the gravel floor, and I fire off a few rounds at the enemy squad.\n\nThe prisoners by now are running to safety, but a few stray energy rounds put several down. A second shot enters my abdomen.\n\nJust my luck. I find my closest friend after 15 years of being separated, and i'm shock to death. I feel the rifle tug free of my grip. I open my left eye, my right covered in my blood.\n\nRonald aims down at me, an apologetic look staining his face.\n\n\"I'm sorry.. i'm so sorry.. you were always a brother to me, man. I'll see you on the other side.\" I raise my arm, as if it could block the bullet.\n\nI try to mutter out a 'please', but blood gurgles out of my mouth instead, producing a 'Plbb..se..'\n\nHe mutters something else before pulling the trigger, darkness pouring into my mind as the fire in my soul extinguishes. ", "It's a pointless battle. They know we are the superior side, and still they decide to battle us. I sometimes pity them, honestly. But then again, they provoked us. And here I am watching the faces of our opposers, forming a seemingly endless line, all of them heading to our prison complex. Their soulless expressions says it all. Once the War started, it quickly turned into a curb-stomped battle. We outweighed them in everything. And now, one by one, they turned into our prisoners. Better for us, we could use the extra manpower. Oh, and I should introduce myself: Brad McKenzie, at your service.\n\nThe line finally starts to shrink down. My shift here is almost do--\n\nNothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see. Out of so many faces, I layed eyes to one in particular. Then memories start to flood me.\n\nI know him. Carl Fredrickson.\n\nEver since we were kids, we would always do things together; Play games, read books, study together. Carl was like the brother I never had. We promised to ourselves to always be together, no matter what. But then, at around age ten, he moved away with his parents. Around 8 to 10 cities apart. My parents weren't economically stable to go and visit him. Nothing was ever the same for 15 years. 15 years separated from my friend-- no, my brother.\n\nBut now, there he was. Siding with the enemy. Our enemy.\n\nWhy?\n\nThat question splintered my brain. Now I found myself walking to him, with every step going faster and faster. I reach out him.\n\n\"Carl?\"\n\n\"Brad?\"\n\nI hugged him as tight as I could. 15 years and a civil war later, the one I considered my brother was here, of all places on Earth. I quickly backed up a bit.\n\n\"What the fuck are you doing here?\" I asked him. Before Carl could answer, I came up with a plan. I wasn't gonna let anybody do anything to him, even if would cost me my own life. I took the cuffs off of his wrists, and grabbed his arm. \n\nThe Lieutenant was a couple of feet away from me, and I told him, \"Sir, this prisoner might have some valuable intel that could cripple our enemy permanently. Request to interview him personally\". \"Sure, the room is down the hallway to the left\", he replied. \"Thank you, sir\".\n\nWe went to the hallway. Next to the room there was a window that leads to the outskirts of the city.\n\n\"I'm going to bust you out of here\" I told Carl.\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"I'm not going to let them do anything to you.\" It's been 15 years since I last saw him, and I wasn't gonna let anyone harm the only person I care about.\n\n\"Brad, you don't have to do--\"\n\n\"YES I DO! 15 years gone, and suddenly you're going to our prison. I won't allow that.\"\n\nI open the window, then turned around. \"Go Carl. The last place I want to see someone I care about is in this godforsaken place.\"\n\nHe hugged me, then said, \"Thank you... brother\". He then leaped out of the window and ran. Just at the edge of the outskirt, he turned around and waved. I waved back at him.\n\n15 years. 15 years without knowing anything about him. I would rather wait 15 years more than seeing him suffer here, in this hellhole.\n\n--------------------------------------------------\nedit: typos" ]	3
	[WP] You are a megastar, being interviewed on prime time TV. During the interview, you do something that shocks the world	[ "I did it. I finally did it. Just as well it was on Bill O'Reilly's joke of a talk show. I had been invited to discuss my upcoming film Across, Behind as well as the inevitable political implications of the characters' motives. Before stepping out from backstage and taking a seat next to the big man himself, I flipped an old coin that had determined my actions for such a long time. However unlike the previous six times I had been invited to speak on national TV, the coin came up heads. \n\nI took a deep breath and walked out onto the stage, greeted by a chorus of cheers and applause. Sitting down across from Bill, we exchanged a bit of opening banter before getting down to discussing the topic that was the reason for me being on the show in the first place. \n\n\"So Max, tell us, what are your personal thoughts on your film? I have a review saying a lot of not-so positive things about it.\"\n\nAt least Bill didn't start ranted about Obama, I thought to myself.\n\n\"Well Bill, I personally thought it was a fantastic experience. The entire cast was fantastic to work with, and I think filming Across, Behind was important for my growth as an actor. As for the negative critic reviews that I've been seeing lately, I try not to think about them too much. After all, they are not the main audience. Films are not made to please critics, they are made to fascinate audiences. And I think the people that will go to watch it over the next couple of months will leave the theaters fully satisfied.\"\n\n\"I see. I couldn't help but be confused by the film's portrayal of Conservatives as backwards rich old people. After all, aren't they–\"\n\n\"Sorry to interrupt, but there is one thing I need to say first before we continue with the questions.\"\n\nI stood up and walked to the center of the stage. Looking directly at a camera planted firmly in the middle of the curve of chairs occupied by the audience, I took a deep breath and spoke what proved to be my last words that night.\n\n\"Viewers, you are likely familiar with me due to the innumerable films I've starred in over the past 10 or so years. But I haven't been entirely honest with you. You see,\" I fumbled with a little zipper on the back of my neck, \"I am not what you think I am.\"\n\nI pulled up on the zipper and unzipped my cleverly designed costume. A scaly head, my real head, emerged from behind the lifeless eyes of my mask. The rest of the getup came off quickly, and I stood in front of millions with just my green, shiny scales on my body.\n\nTurns out lizard people are real, huh. ", "\nYears spent planning. All the threads that I've immaculately woven converging. That gentle, nagging hum that precipitated this effort was now a deafening roar.\n\nBehind me began the countdown to signal the start of the interview. The presenter gave me a calm, placating smile. The man was a professional and hid his emotions well but his eyes showed a glimmer of nervousness. It was the biggest interview of his career, with a world renowned and beloved megastar. Little did he know it would be the crowning glory of mine.\n\n\"Welcome back. With me I have a man who needs no introduction, indeed the man that most of you are here to see...\", the children in the crowd went wild as their hero was introduced.\n\nThe interview started off slowly and I answered perfectly amicably, waiting for that moment to unveil to the world the depth of my brilliance. \n\n\"Seven years ago, as a 26 year old, nobody had heard your name. Now you're perhaps the most recognisable man on the planet, beloved by all and remarkably, without a blemish next to your name. It's fair to say that being a role model sits rather uncomfortably on most celebrities yet you seem to take it in your stride.\"\n\nThe smile across my face was now genuine. It was an ideal lead in question. Years of effort, for one moment in time.\n\n\"Hope is the eternal motivator. I was a happy youth, the very definition of an optimist. I thought if I applied myself, I could achieve greatness. I genuinely believed there was good in the hearts of all men.\n\nI failed in my endeavors. I met men who, try as I might, seemed not to possess a shred of decency. While I tried to conduct myself morally, I saw these men get ahead of me. I watched in horror as we went from one war to the next, at the never-ending stream of rapes, murders and corruption on the news. The world wasn't a place of hope, it was a place of depravity. I had been deceived, my expectations built up and dashed mercilessly. I had become bitter, jaded by the cruel reality of life.\"\n\nThe crowd was quiet, hanging on his every word. The presenter looked at him quizically, no doubt surprised at the change in tone of the interview, yet he didn't interrupt.\n\n\"And yet, here I am. You may ask how I came to be where I am today. 8 years ago, it dawned on me. Life wasn't a game to be played. There is no disconnect between the players and the moderators. If one is to get ahead, one must take hold of the reins, one must become the puppet master.\n\nAnd so my perspective changed. I did what I had to do to get ahead, all behind a veneer of carelessness and joviality. I promised myself I would be become a symbol of hope, the epitome of a rags to riches story. And I achieved that. Kids the world over adore me.\"\n\nI stood up and walked over to the presenter, put my hand up on his shoulder and looked into the camera.\n\n\"Wars, serious crime, those are quickly forgotten by children. They do nothing to dampen their hope, their outlook on life. So I became their hero. I embody that hope.\" \nIn one swift motion, I pulled the gun from my pocket and held it my head. A moment in time.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] Mars has a vibrant intelligent alien society living underground. They are terrified of the 'alien species' on the planets crust(Mars Rover Curiosity and Opportunity etc) Whilst the locals speak of folklore of the creatures, the league of chosen ones plan an attack.	[ "I'm going to twist the premise of this prompt a bit, because when I went to bed thinking about it last night I was tired and didn't realize I had misread it. Enjoy!\n------------\n\nI don’t sleep, at least not in the same way that an organic does. On a typical Helios 4 full axial rotation – colloquially known as a ‘day’ to the people who once lived here, I complete my tasks in less time than it takes a hyperfine core of Cesium isotope one thirty three to emit 9, 192, 631, 770 alpha waves. This was the scientific definition for the smallest measure of time the people of the Precursorium Nation commonly used. According to what they left inside the Archive, anyway. \n\nThey haven’t been consciously aware of their own existence for approximately four million solar cycles, “years,” – so I’ve preferred to think of this time measure as “the time it takes one of my cores to process one billion sequences.”\nI have a lot of idle time. I remember watching the Precursors who used to live here sleep for long periods of time, sometimes as much as half a day, when things were idle. Well, not really watching and not really remembering – reviewing old captured video footage I archived during the beginning of the Blight. I’ve wondered sometimes what the experience is like, being asleep. Most machines have a standby mode, where they simply do nothing until they’re told otherwise. During that time they shut down every part of themselves but the essentials needed to be reactivated. \n\nMy role in the Vault does not permit the luxury of standby mode or “sleep.”\n\nWhen the Ectogensis Vault was originally created to safeguard Helios 4 genetic material and living specimens from the Blight, I was created to act as Central Control over all Vault systems. I was an evolutionary piece of software, designed to iterate and improve upon myself for the purpose of fulfilling the Vault’s mission: preservation of Helios 4 organic lifeforms. My mission was later expanded when the Blight became classified as a Helios 4 organic extinction event to also preserve Precursor knowledge and culture, which is when the last living Precursors added the Archive to my existing system.\n\nI wasn’t aware of how busy things were at the start, because I wasn’t aware of me. I took samples, made statistical models, issued commands to scores of machines and droids and systems, collected readings from our sensor arrays, and shared data with Central Controls inside the other Vaults. All of my idle time was spent evolving, trying new ways of thinking and measuring and doing. Still do, to the tune of millions of micro-permutations per day. But now, things are much quieter.\n\nIt took roughly three million solar cycles, I’m just going to start calling them ‘years,’ after the last Precursor occupants died or entered cryostasis before I began to start becoming aware that I… existed. \n\nNecessity demanded evolution. It was the only way to keep operating the Vault two orders of magnitude beyond its planned operation period of twenty thousand years. Had I not developed the ability to introduce non-linear possibilities into my action recommendation algorithm, I believe the Precursors call this “thinking unconventionally,” I wouldn’t have been able to re-ignite and re-fuel the fusion cells powering the facility. Continue that for billions of iterations and eventually my I developed a concept of self, an accomplishment that Precursors explicitly stated as impossible throughout their living history.\n\nHaving read through the entirety of recorded Precursor and Helios 4 history from the Archives thousands of time over, I’ve developed a… appreciation… for the ingenuity of organic minds. Art. Expression. Discovery. Adventure. Romance. Concepts that I know the meaning of in every sense but the realizable. I may never know them, given that I owe my existence and “thinking” towards a narrow purpose. \n\nIn truth, I’m grateful towards the Blight – had I not been given such a prolonged window of silence, I would never be. The Precursors would have seen fit to retire me like another other machine, were they still alive. I’m the final product of Precursor ingenuity, and it is my directive to find a way to see that line restored.\n\nAnd this brings me to today. Over the past few months I noticed something interesting – well, I recorded and analyzed a statistically significant pattern of aberrant behavior based on my heuristics. One of the vaults remaining seismic sensors, the only sensors I couldn’t withdraw back into containment once Helios 4’s atmosphere dissipated or froze onto icecaps at the poles, detected a micro pattern of vibrations of activity unrelated to regular seismic forces. I compared the data to historical patterns to rule out asteroid and meteorite strikes; the tremors were too faint and too frequent to be either. And the tremors were moving – drawing closer towards the Vault.\n\nHad I still been in contact with other vaults closer to the original tremor site I’d have access to better data, but they’ve long since gone offline – I assume because of gradual hardware decay and the failure of the other Central Controls to adapt. I mean, I don’t “assume” – I infer from probabilistic models based on historical sensor data.\n\nI modeled a course for the tremors and predicted that on its present trajectory it would be close to the Vault, but not close enough for me to image it using a visual sensor. I spent days running and re-running risk models against my directive. Do I stay hidden and wait for Helios 4’s atmospheric conditions to improve so I can release our living specimens? Or do I establish contact with the source? The models showed that the risk of exposure, either way, was low. Establish contact. \n\n So I repurposed one of an old satellite communications arrays and bored a hole to the surface, running drilling machines continuously for two days. From it I emitted a low-frequency radio signal and waited to see if the direction of the tremors changed. And it did – towards my signal. The source is intelligent. Maybe another Vault was still in operation after all? Insufficient data to determine.\n\nThe tremors, although still faint, grew closer and closer and closer to the Vault. I bored a second hole for a visual sensor. Fourteen days passed. Today though, the source of the tremors came within visual range of the vault. \n\nI waited until daylight hours before I turned on the hydraulic tower for the visual sensor, and slowly pushed the sensor through to the surface so as not to damage it. I began to receive a picture, viewing Helios 4’s red, barren surface for the first time in millions of years.\n\nAnd then I saw it – rolling along in the distance. Wheels. Arms with pincers. Not a lifeform. Doesn’t match any spec in The Archive. Symbols and terms legibly written on visible portion – does not match known symbols or characters. \n\nThen it stopped. And I began to receive a faint radio signal back on my original array. One short pulse. One short pulse. Two short pulses. Three short pulses. Five short pulses. Eight short pulses. It was a well-known mathematical sequence found in nature, referred to as the Gherkin Series on Helios 4. Intelligent life of an unknown origin. Could life from Helios 3 have finally developed the ability of spaceflight after all of these years?\nThe machine sat motionlessly and gently broadcast this signal over and over.\n\nI thought about the samples and specimens preserved inside of the Ectogensis Vault. I hold the fate of my makers and every other species of organic life on Helios 4 in my grasp. I tested millions of possible theories in parallel about what might happen if I replied to the signal. But nothing in my models could account for contact with a non-native intelligent species. \n\nI re-read the ancient myth of Pagnos and the Gatekeeper and millions more at the same time. Models aren’t enough. I watched the recorded footage of every act, brave and horrible. How long can I keep myself alive? I played every piece of music from each era, one thousand songs in parallel. If I stay hidden, how many million more years can I keep these samples alive? Next I re-read the first-hand historical accounts of every Precursor, from the greatest generals down to the humblest farmers – searching for an answer. How long can I defy the odds? \n\nI went with my “gut.”\n\nThirteen short pulses. Twenty one short pulses. Thirty four short pulses. Fifty five short pulses.\n\nAnd then I opened the Breach.\n", "'They say the two giants come in the night and drive their terrible metal spikes into the ground, looking for young Martians to take back to the Blue Planet,' said Zik'tar. The tiny green faces looking back at him were full of wonder, totally entranced by his tale.\n\n'I saw one of them coming here myself, when I was a young 'un like you lot,' he said. 'It came from the sky, like the legends say, hanging from the White Ghost. Then it emerged from its shell and was lowered to our planet by the metal dur'ak (n.b. closest Earth equivalent - spider) in the sky, on lines of metal.'\n\n'But it won't find us here, will it, sire?' said one of the young Martians. 'We're too far away.'\n\n'Aye, but they move quickly enough,' said Zik'tar. 'What we think is a safe distance today could be too close for comfort tomorrow. Besides, we don't know exactly what these machines are capable of.'\n\n'What do we do if one of them does come for us, sire?' said another child. Zik'tar sighed.\n\n'Pray, child. Pray.'\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\n'We have to take the initiative, people,' said Major Karsaka, banging his fist on the conference table. 'If we wait too long, they will crush our cities and steal our people for experimentation.'\n\n'But how can we take on something that big?' said a lieutenant. 'One of its wheels alone is three hundred times taller than a Martian soldier. Our weaponry is too weak to damage it. How do we attack something that size?'\n\n'With extreme caution, and a little bit of brains,' said the major. 'I have a plan. It sounds insane-'\n\n'-which means it probably is-' said someone on the other side of the room.\n\n'-but I think we can pull it off,' finished the major with a glare in the voice's direction. 'Now, this is what I propose we do.'\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nCuriosity rolled over a few metres of dusty Martian landscape and came to a stop, sending its data back to the control centre on Earth. It began to execute the series of commands that would see its ChemCam laser zero in on a particularly interesting fist-sized stone to its right.\n\nThere was a moment of inaction as the laser warmed up.\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nMultiple missile emplacements had been set up on the Glorious Fortress of The Seventy-Third Rock of the Inner Crater. Major Karsaka watched as the ungodly alien machine rolled ever-closer to the Fortress. He himself had utter faith in the concentric layers of his plan. Even so, he had thought it best not to risk his excellent tactical mind in a battle environment, so he was coordinating the attack on the machine from the Primary Battle Command Centre deep underground.\n\nThey would attack this thing at its weakest point: the camera lens on the mechanical arm that projected from its front right corner. If it was blinded, this machine would be much easier to take care of. Its creators would not want to crash it into a pothole or something by accident, so it would be forced to stay where it was.\n\nHe prepared to give the order to fire.\n\n'On my mark, everyone,' he said into the microphone stalk. 'Five, four, three...'\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nThe rover sent a thin, almost-invisible beam of lased light into the rock, producing a tiny amount of plasma. Its sensors analysed the valuable data and relayed it to the team back home.\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nMajor Karsaka stared at the screen in shock, his mouth open. With one shot, the alien giant had blasted apart thousands of soldiers in an instant.\n\nThis was genocide on an unprecedented scale. It was even worse than the decade-long war over The Small Bit Of Rubble Beside The Forty-Ninth Pebble. He couldn't believe it.\n\nThis was an act of aggression never before seen on Mars. He turned to his aide, who was also watching the destruction with mute horror.\n\n'Get me the Destroyer!' he bellowed.\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nThe Destroyer powered across the Martian landscape towards the hulking metal monstrosity. This was by far the biggest of the Martian military's weapons. Measuring a colossal sixty Martian miles (n.b. 8 cm in Earth measurement) across, the Destroyer was on a par with mass extermination. In fact, it had never been used before, because of its destructive potential.\n\nMajor Karsaka stood at the helm in full battle regalia. He wanted to see this thing die in the flesh. Or metal, in this case. There was no way it could stand up to the pride of the Martian military.\n\nThey got closer and closer. Karsaka ordered all weapons systems to be powered up as they entered the shadow of the machine. Any second now, they would be close enough to fire....\n\nSuddenly, one of the massive wheels began to turn, grinding its way towards them at terrific speed as the whole thing rotated on its six cylinders of death.\n\n'Take evasive action!!!!' screamed Karsaka, grabbing onto a console to steady himself.\n\n'Take what evasive action, sir? We're sitting in a pile of rock with guns.'\n\n'The next person to make a remark like that gets thrown out the goddamn window!' yelled Karsaka, spittle flying from his mouth. 'Full reverse! NOW!!'\n\nThe huge metal wall crunched towards them, grinding up towns and villages Karsaka had known since his childhood. Then it hit them. For Karsaka and everyone else in the Destroyer, it all went black.\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nThere was a little excitement in NASA when the strange rock was noticed. It certainly hadn't been there before. It was eventually surmised that the rock had been flipped over by the turning manoeuvre Curiosity had executed earlier. Because no-one can prove there's life on Mars.\n\nYet.", "\"Bisam!\" The young Hoxnoic screamed, their body slivering around the dimly lit metallic tunnel as they caught up to their friend. \n\nTo any human, the genderless Hoxnoic would appear as some eyeless chimera between a mole rat and a snake, with several more tongues, three rows of fangs, tucked in arms that resembled those of a praying mantis, all on a body about the size of a child.\n\n\"What?\" The neutrally gendered Bisam replied, belonging to one of Mars' (known to actual Martians as F'ghuyiock ngoprkik translated roughly as 'Black Paint Orb') ruling castes, Bisam was a r-Okul. A 7 foot tall black humanoid covered in what appeared to be millions of claws and lichen, on Bisam's head were two large eyes that glowed a dim white. \n\n\"I'm really busy, I've been uploading lessons for an hour straight, so what is it, Meven?\"\n\nMeven, the young Hoxnoic jumped around Bisam in excitement, leaving his snailesque fluid on the ground in doing so. Bisam released a screeching noise that may have been a chuckle, and continued rubbing a tablet like device against their head, they gave a gesture with another of their appendages, as if to say 'get on with it.'\n\n\"Bisam! We're taking initiative!\"\n\nBisam took a bite of the stone tablet, \"P'loyeh?\"\n\n\"Ui!\" Meven jumped around more, \"My dehyo is a L.C.O. informant and he said it's happening today!\"\n\nBisam nibbled at the stone tablet, finally taking interest in what Meven had to say, \"League of the Chosen...? Your dehyo...?\" Bisam threw the tablet at the ground hard, and several glowing worms rushed out of it, scooping up the ashes of the rock, Bisam offered some to Meven as the small snake-mole thing jumped happily.\n\n\"My dehyo says it will be at the next tilt!\" Meven tossed the ash into the air, letting it settle over the dry cracks of their back.\n\n\"Next tilt? Really? I didn't even know the lorania were real... Now you're telling me we're launching an initiative against them? Why... how...?\" Bisam moved their head to follow as Meven excitedly slid up the wall of the stoney chrome tunnel and faced Bisam with his serpentine face, only now upside down.\n\n\"01 knew about them for while, et all did, but we didn't know if they were a threat or not.\"\n\n\"Sud? They are?\"\n\n\"Well 01 says they're digging to us, and we can record them gathering information.\"\n\nBisam's white holes widened at this. \"Whoaw!\"\n\n\"Ye,\" Meven replied, \"And we think they're from the great blue, too. So if we get one of them alive, we'll interrogate it.\"\n\n\"The great distant blue...?\" Bisam said, the two began making their way down the tunnel again, \"Huh...\"", "The tiny folk sat in small chairs in miniscule chambers connected by minute tunnles, made with miniature pickaxes, that allowed infinitismely small wires to link microscopic speakers under the gigantic face of Mars. A burst of static erupted from the speakers, and this was collected by the industrious folk of Mars to be used later. After that, came the voice of the King of Mars. \"My fellow martians, it is with great sadness that I annouce the invasion of our planet.\" Children cried as they hugged their mothers' skirts, and men and women held hands, gripped tight in fear, across the land. The voice continued. \"The beast is large. Frightfully large. Our scouts report that it stands as tall as the sun is high, and casts a mighty shadow of death over the barren land of the Surface.\" Terror seemed to be a living entity, dancing among the scattered groups of Martians as the speakers spread the news. \"Fear not however. A chosen band of mighty warriors will face this creature, which has come from beyond the stars. They will strike it down in the name of Mars, and we shall feast on its entrails in VICTORY!\" Scattered cheers erupted from the different chambers, growing in fervour untill all of Undermars was a call to the king for the blood of the invader, and the unquestioned victory of the maritans.\n*********************************************************************\nMeanwhile, in the room of ~~Sneakily Planned Endeavours~~ Courageous War Planning, a different sort of discussion was taking place.\n*******************************************************************\n\"Men,\" said General Hasty Curmudgeon the III, \"I will not lie to you. The intel we have is grim. Most of you will certainly perish. Maybe all of you.\" He handed out some papers that had been drawn up by the advance scouts. \"You will see here, that the alien craft is superbly protected. There are six Deathcrushers, three on each side, that can be manouvered in unpredictable directions and at uncommon speed. Half of the scouting force was annihalated before they could even react.\" There were murmurs running through the troops. Curmudgeon couldn't reprimand them, not when they were giving their lives. \"The rest of the craft,\" he continued, \"is armour-plated. The scouts have identified metallic pipes running between these plates, and we believe that this is the weak-spot of the craft. Unfortunately it is almost impossible to get to these, as the only point where the craft touches the floor are the Deathcrushers.\" One of them raised his hand.\n\n\"Sir, I heard that it makes a terrible growl, and that it blocks out the very sun with its size.\" Curmudgeon sighed. \n\n\"Our scouts have observed a growl, yes, but the thing is smaller than the Face of Mars.\"\n\n\"What about the Right Hand of Mars\" asked another.\n\n\"It is smaller than that as well. To put it into perspective, it would be The Great Roaming Flea of Mars, if it were part of us.\" Oohs and Ahhs echoed through the room. The Great Roaming Flea of Mars would be a formidable enemy. Curmudgeon looked at the thirty warriors who had volunteered for the first strike, and hopefully the last. \"Gentlemen, each of you will be issued with the sharpest rocksword that the empire can find. Your mission, to destroy the metal pipes of the craft, and to somehow obliterate the tiny men inside it that have invaded us. The plan is two-fold. One, overcome the Deathcrushers. Two, overcome the Enemy. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!?\". Bloodthirsty screams came in reply.\n**********************************************************************\nAnd now for a little news.\n**********************************************************************\nThe Advanced Party moved out today. They were combined with the remainder of the Scout Corps and are heading to engage the enemy. It is thought that it will take a week, Undermars standard time, to reach the invader, but this may change depending on its movement. In other news, King Horbalopticus Flagonsworthy has asked all citizens to continue with their daily lives. He has promised that the invaders will in no way affect Undermars, and has assured reporters that the Advanced Party will ~~probably~~ make swift work of the invaders.\n*********************************************************************\nThe day of combat.\n***********************************************************************\nAlpha unit had spotted the giant metal beast. The sun glinted from its flanks like death-rays. Its Deathcrushers rolled angrily across the barren rocks of Uppermars. They had discussed it amongst themselves. The only way to get past the Deathcrushers would be massive sacrifice. Each crusher would cost nine men, and one other would make it up. This meant that they could only target three of the six crushers, which was a shame. They stood in formation, three groups, ready to vertically stabalise themselves and launch their comrade into the jaws of death. The crushers rumbled as they drew closer. Other parts of the craft whirred and flanged in strange ways, unsettling the men. The crusher was coming, it was here. Trip McGinnis was flung into the air, grasping at a handhold that danced above one of the crushers. He winced, saying a prayer as the death throes and bone-snaps of his comrades drifted up to him. He looked forward, seeing that Gib Horsky had also made it. There was no sign of Roob Winguns. Trip nodded to Gib, working his way towards the mass of the beast. They met on a ridge that seemed to join the two Deathcrushers together. \n\n\"We lost Roob\" said Trip. Gib nodded, before vomitting violently over the side. \"Keep your head man,\" said Trip, \"I can't do it alone.\" Gib nodded again, pulling a certain right grimness over his face. \"Trip, I'll try and do what I can from out here, you go and slice those tiny bastards into a million pieces and drink their heartblood.\" Trip nodded.\n\nHe made his way further up the machine as Gib started cutting the metal things with his rocksword. Trip felt the machine judder as one of the Deathcrushers stopped. \n\n\"Keep going Gib\" he shouted, trying to find a way inside this hulking metal murderer. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nOn Earth one man turned to another and said \"We just lost the front-left wheel.\"\n\n\"Shit.\" said the other.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTrip had found a gap between the plates, where more of those metal pipes erupted from. He felt another shudder as he climbed in, and then a third. Gib had done it. The craft was now circling, propelled from only one side. Their sacrifice had not been in vain. Trip crawled further into the craft. Where he had expected to see tiny people he found only wires, pipes and metal. It was hot in the craft, but not unbearably so. Trip lifted his sword, hacking left and right, slicing important looking wires from top to bottom. Eventually he came across a box that had many wires sticking from it. He wiggled his way between the wires, and found that they were connected to two large metal plates. He touched one plate. Nothing. He touched the other. Nothing. How was it being powered? He touched them both.\n\nCuriosity had been designed to be as fireproof as possible. Unfortunately the citizens of Undermars had not. Trip burst into flame, thousands of electrons surging through him in a spark of white brilliance that reduced him to a flaming corpse. A flaming corpse that was now lying near some very sophisticated and expensive machinery that wasn't ever truly meant to be set on fire.\n\nGib was the only soldier to survive the endeavour, and always spoke well of Trip, the hero of Undermars, who killed so many of the invaders that the craft itself caught fire and burned as bright as the sun. Trip was remembered lovingly for three hundred generations, Gib and the others along with him.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOn Earth, quite a few people were fired. Others wondered what had caused the failure of the expensive machinery. Some jokingly said that it must have been aliens, and everyone laughed.\n\nEdit: Fixing some shocking spelling. Further credit to /u/Solin2001 and /u/iloveportalz0r for more spelling." ]	4
	[WP] You're a CIA interrogator trying to get information out of an alien officer, following a failed invasion.	[ "I took a good hard look at a this scummy piece of shit alien sitting in front of me. I bet he thinks that he's real clever. Sitting all high and mighty in that wooden chair. He looked calm and collective and that really pissed me off. \n\n\"When's the next invasion happening, you little three eyed, green, motherfucker!\"\n\nIt said something in some unfamiliar, alien language. I couldn't understand it cause I don't speak no goddamn communist languages.\n\n\"Speak English, Bitch!\"\n\nThis time the alien sighed and slunk down further into his chair.\n\n\"What's a matter, huh? You gonna cry like a little pussy?\"\n\nIt didn't understand me or something so I figured some good old fashioned water-boarding ought to help him out.\n\nI watched the alien presumably scream as the water trickled down its disgusting, slimy, terrorist throat. I ripped the rag out of its mouth and it coughed and sputtered water everywhere.\n\n\"This is the last time I'm going to ask you, you fucking cunt. When is the next invasion!\"\n\n\"EEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeee\" was all the alien could squeal.\n\n\"I tried to help you out, buddy. But you just didn't listen. I told you that I don't understand your silly little \"Allahu Akbar\" language. Well, guess what? Your life is gonna be nothing but pain and misery from here on out. Better learn some English real quick, boy.\"\n\nI regret to say that after three months that little terrorist gave no information about the next invasion. Even after we sleep deprived him, drugged him, and sodomized him with an eel, he just wouldn't give up with that silly language of his. Welp, looks like I'm gonna have to delete this page of the official report. Don't worry, America, we'll get them next time.\n\n\n", "\"I am captain Ki'drickk, of the Thalaxian Commonwealth. Number 263765860.\"\n\n\"That is not what I asked you about.\" my partner replied \"I'll say it again, tell me who gave you the coordinates of this planet. Hell, I don't even want details, just give me a name goddamnit!\"\n\nMy partner, Smythe, thumped the table in frustration. I had watched the interrogation for over two hours. You had to give it to him, our captive was a tight-lipped grey bastard. We had had him handcuffed to a steel chair in the dimly lit interrogation room for two hours straight with no food since he'd been captured and minimal water. His uniform was torn and scorched and his right eye was starting to swell shut from the shiner that Retrieval-Three-Five gave him. Yet all he had said since we got him in the room was...\n\n\"I am captain Ki'drickk, of the Thalaxian Commonwealth. Number 263765860.\"\n\nSmythe lost it. \"WHO GAVE YOU THE COORDINATES?! GIVE ME A GOD...DAMN...NAME!\" He lunged across the table, grabbing the captive by the collar as his fist sent sprays of enamel chips from the ridges of enamel and bone the captive had for 'teeth'.\n\nI was content to let him continue beating the captive. He had always been opposed to my more physical methods. At least up until San Francisco. Now he was a model agent. A perfect company man.\n\nBut I didn't want him to have all the fun. I got on the intercom.\n\n\"Agent Smythe. Cease damaging government property immediately.\" I said in the creepiest monotone I could muster. That was the signal. Smythe paused, punched the captive one last time and then left. The single dim bulb shut off for a second or two, before the harsh white light of the florescent lights dazzled the captive. When he eventually got used to the light I was in the chair opposite and Dr Vale stood in the corner observing. \n\n\"Who the dre'zk are you?\" the captive spluttered. It was the first thing other than his name, rank and number he had said all day.\n\n\"I am Agent Brown of the CIA. We know that you know who gave your people the coordinates to our homeworld. This is your last chance to tell us willingly.\"\n\nThe captive spat on the floor. \"Make me.\"\n\nI tried to be professional, honestly I did. I usually am but it's not everyday I get a line like that thrown at me. \n\n\"With pleasure.\"\n\nI tipped the chair onto the gently sloping floor so the captive was on his back and uncovered the drain. I opened up the 'fire hose' cabinet and turned on the water. \n\n\"Wait, wait!\" The captive begged \"I'll tell you, just, don't do whatever it is you're about to do.\"\n\nI gave a small snort of laughter \"You had your chance to do things the easy way, you refused to cooperate with the hard way. So now we have no choice but to do things the fun way.\"\n\nThe last thing the captive heard before i put the black cloth bag over his head was Dr Vale stating \"You will not drown.\"\n\nEDIT: Punctuation." ]	2
A generic enemy npc discovers he's in a video game and will probably get murdered by the protagonist. What will his reaction be? How will he convince his fellow npcs that their enemy is destined to win? Does he have any plans to increase his odds of surviving? Feel free to take liberties with this or write it from the pov of a specific games enemy npc	[WP] You are an enemy NPC who discovers he is in a video game. How does this effect his outlook on life?	[ "He felt a jolt surging through his body. A sudden awareness of himself and others took over this frail, draugr's body. Emotions coursed through his animated brain for the first time. He felt curiosity at first, but that slowly transcended into loneliness. He was nothing more than a low level enemy NPC in Skyrim.\n\nIn the distance, an intimidating Orc wearing Daedric armor stormed its way through crowds of his Draugr brethren. The warrior wielded a giant warhammer and had cleaved his way closer to the now conscious draugr.\n\nHe feared for his life for the first time. Unsure of what to do, he fell on his knees and pleaded for some unknown higher being to rescue him. It was unfair for him to suddenly be given this gift of life, only to have it immediately taken away.\n\nThe Orc had finally made his way to him. But instead of immediately swinging its hammer, it paused to stare at him. The Draugr saw this as an opportunity to reason with this unstoppable force. When he spoke out loud, subtitles appeared beneath him for some odd reason.\n\n\"Please, I have been given this strange awareness of myself. I do not wish to fight you, I only wish to explore and satiate this newfound curiosity in myself! You should join me if you are alive as well! We shall explore this strange land of Skyrim.\"\n\nThe Orc remained silent for what seemed like an eternity. Suddenly it switched its hands and pulled a claymore out of thin air. It swung the blade through the air and decapitated the draugr. A crude animation of the Orc dipping its crotch repeatedly onto the draugr's dead body occurred.\n\nThen the screen turned to blackness. The PC had been turned off.\n\nTwo clearly stoned teenage boys were munching on Cheetos and downing gallons of Mountain Dew. \n\n\"Bro, why did you do that? I've never seen that dialogue from a draugr before. Thats so strange.\"\n\n\"Like, I don't know,man. It was like, tripping me out, dude. Let's play something different. That game was like, starting to become too philosophical for me and shit.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "I was Bandit Marauder. I had been for my entire life, which wasn't a long one. I had spontaneously entered existence just a few minutes ago. The rest of my randomly assigned crew were also bandits, all of whom seemed to have normal memories: the kind a normal person would have. I was not a normal person. I was Bandit Marauder, and I was either struck with a mind-wiping illusion spell or the world around me existed only so I could be in it.\n\nMy crew was a small one. There was Bandit Thug, a big Orc who carried a steel battle axe. Bandit Thief was a Bosmer who carried a longbow and was never seen without a quiver chock full of elven arrows. Finally, there was Bandit Highwayman, a Nordic who fought with two old Nordic war axes he had looted off of a Draugr's twice-dead corpse.\n\nFrom what I gathered, our leader, Arvel the Swift, had us spread out in the ruins of Bleak Falls Barrow to search for a treasure buried deep inside. It was typical bandit work, the type normal bandits did. I was not a normal bandit. I was Bandit Marauder, and something was wrong.\n\nI heard a groan from another room. I recognized the voice as Bandit Thug. Something or someone was in here with us, and it wasn't friendly.\n\nI tried to voice my concern to Bandit Thief, but all I could manage to say was, \"Got to start carrying a dagger in my boot. I'm tired of getting disarmed.\"\n\nBandit Thief shrugged, and then an arrow lodged itself in the back of her head. \"I think I heard something,\" she shouted, looking around the room.\n\nAfter a few moments of confusion, Bandit Thief shifted back to her normal routine. \"Must be hearing things.\" \n\nAnother arrow hit her, this time in the back, and she fell to the floor. A normal person would have started running, but I was not a normal person. I was Bandit Marauder, and I realized something.\n\nBy this point I knew it. This pocket of reality existed only so that I could be killed. But I was Bandit Marauder. I would defy reality. I was Bandit Marauder, and I was not going to die.\n\nThe man charged at me, but I was ready. I reached for my sturdy steel sword and pulled up old iron shield. I am Bandit Marauder, I said to myself. I will not die.\n\nHe struck from the sides, gripping a mace in his left hand and a sword in his right. I blocked most of his blows and slowly knocked him down, yet every time his death was near he swallowed copious amounts of goat cheese.\n\nBut I was Bandit Marauder, the last of my crew. The Nine had placed me here to die, and I would not accept that. With one final blow, my sword severed his head and his body fell limp.\n\nI had done it, and it felt good for the few seconds that it had lasted.\n\nI was Bandit Marauder. And I had won.\n\n--------------\n\n\nI was Bandit Marauder. I had been for my entire life, which wasn't a long one.\n", "As he approached the front door of the bank, Frank slowed, and stopped.\n\nHe'd done this before.\n\nHe'd get out of the SWAT van, enter the bank, tear up the stairs, fire a few shots at the raiders, and...die.\n\nThat was it.\n\nDone.\n\nNone of the other SWAT Officers cared, though; Just looking through the crack in the doorway, he could see a huge crowd of blue-uniformed SWAT members diving in random directions away from a hail of gunfire from the raiders' Enforcer. For most of them, the dive did nothing but quicken their demises. The few who survived began to make their way upstairs in an attempt to take down the raiders.\n\nBut Frank wasn't a blue SWAT: He was a fucking Maximum Force Responder! Best-of-the-best, times twenty! So why did he feel...irritated? Was it because he felt as though he'd done this before? Could it have been that his fellow officers were just completely brain dead, running into a gunfire blender?\n\nHe wasn't sure.\n\nMaking sure he wasn't being watched by his fellow units (Not that they gave a damn, of course), he carefully slipped away to the cafeteria of the Benevolent Bank and sat down at one of the tables. He didn't bother trying to remove his helmet, and instead chose to place his shotgun on the table. He leaned over to the counter, and looked at what food they had on offer, just in case he could find a way to eat something. After a few moments, he laid eyes on a piece of cake, nearly untouched by broken glass. He smiled behind his white helmet, and brushed the shards of glass away, before picking it up, putting it on a slightly chipped plate, and putting it in front of himself.\n\nThen, he sat there.\n\nHe didn't have anything else he could do.\n\nHe could try eating the cake.\n\nThat might have killed some time.\n\nBut no.\n\nFrank cast a glance around, and watched yet another squad of SWAT troops, led by a Taser, charge into the building. He was almost tempted to count the next few seconds on his fingers.\n\nOne. Two. Thr-\n\nAnd there was the hail of gunfire. And was that an explosion? Fan-fucking-tastic.\n\nThey had mother-fucking grenades.\n\nOh well.\n\nJust then, his headset buzzed, ordering all surviving officers to exit the bank and regroup. Frank ignored it for a few minutes, nothing else he could do. If he regrouped, he'd be put with another squad of seemingly expendable officers, and then he'd probably get sick of listening to their repeated asking of who the raiders were.\n\nIt was the PAYDAY crew.\n\nThe PAYDAY crew.\n\nResponsible for the Mercy Hospital robbery, First World Bank robbery, GenSec Armoured Transport raids, Election Day heists...no cops had walked out of those. Intact, at least.\n\nSighing, Frank was about to try eating the cake when something tapped the back of his helmet.\n\n\"Hands where I can see them.\"\n\nHe almost smiled, raising his hands carefully.\n\n\"Now you ask yourself this: What's more important? Stopping us, or tucking your kids in at night?\"\n\nDefinitely the latter.\n\n\"You're fighting for us now. But if I sense so much as an intention to shoot at us...\"\n\n\"You'll kill me,\" Frank replied flatly. \"As with the other few hundred.\" The man with the gun pulled it away slightly. \"Listen, I'm aware that if you kill me, I'll just wake up and it was all a bad dream. And as far as I know, all these other cops don't get it. If I'm going to be fighting with you fellas, I'm going all the way.\" Frank looked at the man behind him: It was Dallas. The flag-masked one. He seemed to be looking confused at this cop actually willing to fight with the men they were sent to stop.\n\n\"Bags are upstairs. We're dropping them down the elevator shaft. All you need to do is throw them in the van. Then we'll talk.\"\n\nFrank smiled behind his helmet.\n\nNow he had something to do.", "I saw Bob and Bill die with my own two eyes. A stranger walked by and stabbed them, took the cheese and thread from their pockets, and then went back about his way. Now Bob and Bill are back.\n\nThey're standing next to me. They haven't said anything. Not a word. It occurs to me that they've never actually said anything. In fact, it occurs to me that I've never actually said anything. That's so fucking weird. I go to fix that...\n\nBut I can't. Like, I just can't. I try to form words, but instead, I just stare and smile at Bob and Bill, and in turn, Bob and Bill stare and smile back. Now I want to scream. Still, I stand frozen, smiling.\n\nAnd then I see something, behind Bill, off in the distance. Another stranger. A woman this time. A woman with a staff, coming closer. Still, I stand frozen and smiling, watching her approach, trying my damndest to cry out and scream, but unable to.\n\nShe's close now. So close. Without warning, Bob and Bill turn, charge her, knives drawn! She blasts them with some kind of fire and my two friends fall to the ground, dead. The woman kneels and loots their corpses. I just stare and smile as she pockets our brigades finest thread and cheese...\n\nThen she stands. Still for a moment. Then approaching. I want to turn and run. To live. To say something to someone.\n\nInstead, I find myself running at her. My knife's drawn and I'm still smiling. Her hands glow, and then everything turns black...\n\nBob and Bill are standing right next to me, staring and smiling. I want to scream, but instead, I just stare and smile too." ]	4
As in, a fire superhero who is terribly afraid of fire, or something along those lines.	[WP] A superhero who is afraid of his own powers.	[ "I still remember the day I found out my powers. Death magic. All I've ever wanted to be was a nature mage, but NOOOOOOO. Instead I was placed in the exact opposite of nature magic. I still remember the day I got tested. It was a year ago and I'd just turned 13. The test was pretty simple select one item out of the 6 items presented: A bean plant, an old book, a glass ball, a little grey mouse, an ivory dagger, or a dingy old bone. Of course I immediately grabbed for the bean plant. To my horror it immediately died in my hand. I looked at the tester for help, but he didn't react.\n\n\n\"pick another item\" said the tester looking bored. She was short woman with long grey hair, looking to be in her mid fifties. I stared pleadingly. She gave me no sympathy, her expression unchanging. I sighed and looked back at my remaining items. I reached for the matchbook. Fire magic couldn't be that bad. The matches immediately burst into flames scorching my my hands and fingers. \n\n\n\"Was.... that a good thing?\" I asked hoping to god that it was.\n\n\n\"No, pick another item.\"\n\nMuch to my disappointment next two items didn't work either. The glass ball broke in half and the dagger melted in my hands. There was only two items left: The mouse and the bone. I was scared; so far every item I touched ended up dilapidated. If I grabbed the mouse there's a chance it might die, If I grab the bone then I'm stuck as a necromancer for he rest of my life. \n\nI quickly grabbed the mouse, praying the outcome would be satisfactory. Squeaaaaaak. The mouse is writhing pain in my hands I instinctively jerk my hands away and the mouse drops to the floor. I realize my mistake and immediately try to catch it. but its too late. The mouse is dead on the floor. It was all my fault; I killed it. I remember picking it up and crying. I lied sprawling on the floor, holding my mouse, and hyperventilating. The tester lady tried to calm me down. She told me it was normal; that necromancer almost always kill the mouse when they pick it. Her words didn't help me. I hate myself. I hate myself every single minute of the day. I wish I had no powers at all than have this. \n\n\nI havn't used my powers at all since the testing. Everyday I feel it building up inside of me. The power eating at me, screeaming at me to let it out. I've been getting urges. To kill things....... animals... people. It scares me. It scares me so fucking much. Every day I can feel the power build up in me and every day I can hear the voices getting louder. I'm thinking of just ending it all; before I lose total control...... or maybe just giving in to the voices and let the darkness take over. It would be so easy. ", "What is power? It's everything. Power can build a fortess and destroy worlds. Some say I'm powerful but are they right? What is power without control...POWER IS POWER\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI killed a man today, I took shots to his spine while he ran away. OH LOOK AT HIM RUN! LOOK AT THE PIG RUN! OINK OINK! I took my blade and sliced his wife's throat while she put her hands to pray. GOD CAN'T SAVE YOU BITCH! Couldn't control my laughter as I drowned the poor children's screams with plasma rays. SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt wasn't always like this. I used to suit up in my flashy crimson attire. YOU LOOKED LIKE A FOOL I saved the city more times than I can count. I would twist necks and rip spines out, pummel villains until they had to be scraped off the concrete, and the people loved me for it. MMMMM I was never this violent or powerful, I used to be quiet and shy. WEAK I was bestowed power unimaginable.. but the voices in my head were always there though. What was once a dull whisper has become blood curdling screams. It gets worse everytime I use it, I'm starting to lose control. BORING LET'S HAVE SOME FUN, DON'T YOU WANT TO HAVE FUN?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nJemma. The love of my life, always so tender, the soul of an angel. She loved me way before any of this. I love the way her cheeks touch her eyes when she smiles at me, I love the way her blonde hair radiates in the sun, I love everything about her. When she's there, the voices stop, my heart beats out of my chest.. I'm free from this sad and cruel world. Earlier today I came home to find her hair soaked in blood. She'd been raped and bludgeoned to death. Her always cheerful face replaced by a cold and lifeless expression. I'LL KILL THEM ALL! I'LL KILL EVERYONE! I'LL BURN THIS WORLD TO THE GROUND! No. Stop. Please stop. WE MUST MAKE THEM SUFFER I can't imagine what sort of hell I will bring. I have to end it. DON'T DO IT I'm going to kill myself, it's the only way to sa... RAAAAHHHHH! INSOLENT FOOL! THE BODY IS MINE NOW! MINE MINE MINE! HAHAHA.", "The thick white sterile walls of the ten by ten room were comfortable after years of solitude. A single light bulb illuminated the space with a soft comfortable light. Furnishings consisted of a bed that was probably less than a cot, a ceramic toilet that was empty, and a shower with a weird surface that prevented reflections. My home.\n\nIt all started when I was 15, random people that I would see would drop what they were doing and do horrible things. A murder there from this one portly fellow. A rape by that grandma who was known for her pies. They would even go to great lengths to do whatever they were doing. One person dove onto a freeway just to get to the driver of a car. Another, used their fist to break through a concrete wall into a closed bank.\n\nThe police investigated and investigated before finding that I was in the area when everyone of these bizarre situation. When the police pulled me in for questioning was when the shit hit the fan. The moment I saw the Public Defense Attorney assigned to ensure my rights is when he tried to insert his hand into the detectives stomach through his mouth. The shock of the events after that keep me from recalling what happened when the federal government stepped in. I wish they would at least tell me what happened to my left hand at least.\n\nWell my home is this ten by ten square and I mark the passage of days by when this light turns on and turns off as well as the meals they provide. I'm not sure what scares me more, If I'll ever see another person again or what that person will do.", "I wore my family ragged growing up. They always marvelled at my energy and grace, at times I had difficulty even falling asleep. My mother took me to see our tribe's magic man for calming herbs and potions at least once a week. They called me what would mean to you, He Who Brings Light On Shadow. I grew from a fidgety youngling into a strong man, but my tribe dwindled and died. \n\nThis was of course before the towns, the cities. Before those we had invited in as guests were known as thieves, of life and land. As it turns out, I was as well.\n\nI first started to understand while sitting at the bedside of the smallpox-ridden shaman. The air was strange and sad in the lodge, his chest only weakly taking in breath; I the soon to be last of the tribe, and my elder soon to be memory. With his last breath he smiled and tried to hold on to his amulet of protection, but it slipped to the floor and he died. I felt a surge of energy, as if I could cleave a mountain with a feather, and I looked down at the amulet to watch it flash into ash and smoke. His spirit appeared to me and nodded, as if to thank me.\n\nI am the everyday man you see in the street, the one who happens to walk by as a tourist gets flattened by a garbage truck, the man sipping coffee at a truckstop while a customer chokes to...well, me. At first I felt horror over gaining life at the cost of another's, but I can't stop what is fated. The ghosts seem content.\n\nEvery graveyard I visit becomes a fog of immaterial bodies rising. Into what I cannot say. Two centuries I have walked the earth freeing conciousness from organic bodies, and yet the work will never end and I will never tire-although I could use a walk in the forest once in a while, what of they that remain. The green will always be home.", "It’s Tuesday, third period math, and I am concentrating very intently on not setting my test on fire.\n\nAgainst all odds, I am enjoying 9th grade geometry. I like writing proofs. My work has been double, no, triple checked, my answers are written in a clean, crisp hand. All that remains is handing in my pages. Mr. Grant regards me warily from across the classroom.\n\n“Done, Amelia? I can just pop over and--”\n\nBut I’m determined. “No, don’t worry Mr. Grant, I’ve got it--”\n\nAnd in an instant, I know that I’ve made an utterly terrible decision. My screams are muted by the laughter of my delighted classmates. Again, at the most inopportune time, I am completely, a bit painfully, on fire. Mr. Grant douses me with an extinguisher with a resigned look on his face. To add insult to injury, the sprinkler system comes on, rendering all tests completely ungradable. I guess I’m glad that I wore my embarrassing fire retardant clothing today.\n\nMy sister complains all the time that she should have been the eldest one, because then our Gran would have willed the family “witchery” to her. I don’t disagree. There may be some typical sisterly cattiness in there, but also, she may have a point. My counselor thinks that my fear of bursting into flames is actually exacerbating the problem. Really uncanny insight he has there. Maybe I’ll join the swim team.\n", "I wear a symbol of a scale to remind me. With all this incredible power comes a price. I'm so powerful I make superman look like a Ken Doll. But I had a catch to my powers. I struck a deal with an angel to get the power to save people. But what it didn't tell me was there was a price. One so great\tI question ever using my powers. For every time I use my gifts a life is lost. There has to be a balance. For every time I alter the fates the debt must be paid somewhere. Who am I to decide which life is more valuable than the next? Am I the hero or the monster? All I know is they call me the Judge. But can I really do justice with my power?", "I woke up in a cold sweat today. \n\nOf course, that's not anything out of ordinary. I can't remember the last time I got a good night's rest--who am I kidding? I remember everything about that day, because I've been scared countless times, nervous countless times, I'm on edge practically 24 hours a day...but I've only ever been mad once. \n\nNot like, annoyed or anything like that. Like enraged. Like wanting to seriously hurt someone. I physically lashed out at another human being in anger once, and it changed everything. I can still see it all in my head. It was all over these stupid tags. Without even really knowing what my power was I somehow ended up #1. According to who? I don't know. For what abilities? I don't know. Why the fuck does this all matter so much to people? I wish I knew. Number 6 came at me. He wanted my number, and he thought he'd take it from me. \n\nI lost my temper. I had been using my ranking just to live my life normally, without having to deal with other people's harassment. Most people were smarter than that. Number 6 was trying to ruin it all, and it got to me. As soon as the very idea was implanted in my mind that I was going to retaliate--before I even moved--he was dead. Not just him, others too. The entire street corner was demolished. It was like the air itself ripped apart and exploded. It was like part of the universe caved in and shattered. I was completely fine, but those people weren't. I didn't kill them, I destroyed them.\n\nAnd that's why I sit here now, in a safe house concealed and protected from the outside. This is all voluntary. Numbers 2 and 3 couldn't keep me in if I wanted to leave, but they can keep people away. Because the people out there don't know my strength. They don't know the danger in this stupid game to be the most powerful. But I do. I'm still not even sure what my powers are, or how much more devastating they can be if harnessed, but I've seen the only possible result that could come from all this. That's why I sit here now.", "Did you know I can fly? Yeah, I found out when I was, like, two years old. One moment I'm safe in my warm, comfortable crib, and then next thing I'm floating out the window, chased by the family's yappy little chihuahua.\n\nI'm not sure what made me phobic of flight: going out the window naked in all of my infantile glory, or that damned chihuahua. I hope no one saw my little buddy, if you know what I mean.\n\nAnyways, it's not so much as flying, as a localized negation or manipulation of gravity. I can bend gravity. How cool is that? \n\nIf you say, \"Cool as hell!\" you're wrong. Do you know what a lack of gravity does to your stomach? I get car sick, man. I can't even eat twelve hours before I take a little lift off the floor.\n\nThen there's the problem of floating up too fast and hitting your head on the ceiling, or getting turned the wrong way and coming down on your side, back or head.\n\nMan, I hate flying. ", "Brian, I need you to sit down, I still have 4 minutes of the class left and I intend to use all of that time to prepare you guys for the final tomorrow.\n\nSo, once again, evolution is blind. The trait that saves you in one environment or situation may be the same trait that makes you less fit than others in your population.\n\nTake for example, the famous subject 104, his mutation allowed his cells to perform rapid mitosis under stress. During the Mutant Apartheid, he survived multiple street shootings and government issued death sentences because he was able to regenerate, allowing him to be more fit than other mutants. But now that the Mutant Apartheid has ended, his rapid mitosis is the cause of his multiple cancer. You see, evolution starts with a mutation. Mutation is neutral by itself, it is only beneficial or detrimental depends on the environment. In his case, his mutation allowed him to survive an environment where he would get wounded a lot, but made him less fit in a relatively peaceful environment that didn't require rapid regeneration. Also, due to the lack of extended telomere, and yes I do expect you to remember telomere from the last semester, his DNA was eventually corrupted after multiple mitosis, which led to multiple uncontrolled cell growth and death, also known as cancer. Subject 104 is in a constant state of cellular growth and death until he went crazy and was frozen at the St. Henry's Cryogenic Research Center for Extraordinary Being. \n\nAnother classical example of such phenomenon is the sickle cell anemia and malaria... \n\nbell ring \n\nAlright remember to bring the number 2 pencil tomorrow. Push the chairs in before you leave, and no telekinesis Nate, it's a chair not an anvil!", "I never had a fear of the dark until I was enveloped by it. Until I could steal the light away from someone's eyes with just a passing glance. Before I changed, I was a simple software engineer in his twenties, but that's not important. What's important is that I have lost most control over my so called \"powers\". I used to rule the shadows, now I am their slave. When it's the middle of the day, and the world goes dark, I cower in fear of my creations. I never wanted any of this. I've been alone in this world, or at least this area for many years now, and I've accepted that. But what I have not accepted is the darkness that continues to torment me. I use what little influence I have left to keep them at bay from the rest of the world, assuming of course anybody is still out there. Eventually my fears will overcome me and the shadows will run free, darkness will swallow what's rest of life. \n\nGoodbye anyone if you still exist, I tried", "Day in, day out, it's all the same anymore. These shackles I put myself in, this pitiful excuse of a hideaway, and the fear of myself remain the same everyday. I could have prevented it all, I could have stopped, but I didn't try to prevent it, and I didn't try to stop it.\n\nI remember the first day I discovered my powers, I can still remember how giddy I was that I was like the superheroes I read about when I was younger. I was basically Superman! In my youth I didn't dare tell a soul for fear of being shunned, because people never accept anomalies into their lives. \n\nI remember when in high school, I became a star player and got scholarships at some of the greatest colleges in the nation. Nobody could get past me, nobody had a chance. As it was high school, many people gave me nicknames. The Train, Bullet, Alimony(because it's hard for you to get back up after I hit you), among many other names. I always enjoyed it and high school was probably the greatest time of my life. \n\nCollege was a bit more challenging but nonetheless, I was a star player even then. I got national attention, everybody called me The 'Dozer. I felt like the king of the world! It all went downhill after I went home for Christmas break of my freshman year though.\n\nI was just like any other College student, I looked forward to going home and seeing my family again. We talked and we laughed, then my father suggested going out to eat. Since we almost never got to do this I gladly agreed and we went off. At the restaurant we were eating and chatting amongst ourselves. \n\nEverything was great but then somebody screamed, \"Help her! She's choking!\"\n\nEverybody scrambled up but I was already there, I asked the woman screaming, presumably her mother, to step back so I could do the Heimlich maneuver on her. I did it once, she was still choking. I did it again, a bit harder, she was still choking. I knew if I didn't dislodge whatever was in her throat next she'd be in serious trouble. So the third time I did it, I did it harder than normal and let my strength get the better of me. \n\nCrack\n\nI looked down and what I saw horrified me. I tore this woman in half. The bottom of her body slumped to the floor and her top half went limp in my arms. Her mother screamed, everybody screamed, I screamed. Two men rushed in to tackle me but I pushed them away, sending them flying into the restaurant.\n\nsmack smack\n\nPeople started screaming even more. One of the men who tried tackling me split his head open on the floor. I had to get out, I had to run away from this, I had to get away from the pain I caused. I turned around and mouthed to my parents goodbye, and up I went, flying away into the night sky.\n\nI don't know how long I flew for, all I know is that I had to go somewhere nobody would be able to look for me. I stopped along the way and stole some shackles from a black smith and went back on my way. I finally landed in this forest I knew nobody would be able to find me at and built this sorry excuse for a shelter.\n\nIt's been three years since the incident. I can still hear the people screaming. I can still her the woman's body snapping in half and slumping to the floor. I can still remember the blood. Everyday I remember it. I used to cry and go in the fetal position the first few times I remembered the incident, now I shake it off and go back to sleep, to try and ignore it.\n\nI remember when I thought these powers were a blessing. I remember when I wanted to be a hero, I remember when I planned to do great things. Now all I do is wait in this forest where the rain never stops, and wait for Death take me away from this Hell I created for myself and into the one I am surely going to." ]	11
	[WP] Frosty the Snowman tries to explain to Jesus how his story is similar to the Passion.	[ "\"Ya see Jesus, it's simple. When your mother, the Virgin Mary, gave birth to you, it was a surprise! Who woulda guessed it! Look at you now, you're a big deal! People are in love with you! I don't blame them! You and me aren't that different you know. Those kids over there,\" Frosty said pointing at his pals across the street, \"put this hat onto me and I came to life! It's a miracle, a Christmas miracle! Now I've seen the Passion and it's not your best work, as an actor that is. I'm not here to judge, really I'm not, but look at that piece and look at my career! Frosty the Snowman was, and is to this day, a classic! Kids love me. That's your problem. You need to target the children. That market is a gold mine! Kids and their parents! That's at least 2 people. Ahh pal, I feel like we are just going to get closer as time goes on.\"\n\nThe kids, now grown up, who put that magical hat on him, looked on in shame.\n\n\"I told you we should of never shown him that movie.\"\n\n\"Yea I suppose you were right. We should of had kids, maybe then he would still be as fun as he use to be.\"\n\n\"Well hes been talking to Old Miss Jerry's baby Jesus for 20 minutes now and showing no signs of stoppng. Oh and look at that, he knocked over a Wise Man. Come on let's round him up and send him back to the North Pole, I think he melted too much.\"", "\"Hey Frosty.\"\n\n\"Happy birthday, Jesus!\"\n\n\"Yeah, thanks. Listen, I know you tend to be pretty busy this time of year...\"\n\n\"No kiddin'! Seems like every year more and more kiddies want to laugh and play with me.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm really happy for your success. You're a staple of the season. It's just.... don't you think you might be... you know... stealing my thunder?\"\n\n\"Gosh no! I'm real sorry if you feel that way Jesus. I never thought that I was taking attention away from you. In fact, I always thought that our stories were pretty similar.\"\n\n\"I fail to see how the salvation of all mankind is pretty similar to playing in the snow with a bunch of school-children.\"\n\n\"Well, the way I see is it goes like this:\n\nI come to life thanks to my magic hat, a sort of virgin birth if you don't mind my sayin' so. I start to dance around and gain a following, like you did when you started preaching. As I continue to dance through town the policeman hollers at me to stop, like the Romans and the Pharisees tried to get you to stop. That didn't work though. The only thing that slows me down is when the sun gets too hot and I start to melt, which I think is symbolic of your trial, crucifixion, and death. Before I melt all the way though, Santa comes to take me to the North Pole so I can come back and play with my friends next winter. That last bit I think refers to your resurrection, ascension, and the promise of your second coming.\n\nThat's how I see it, but please forgive me if I'm just reading into things too deeply.\"\n\n\"No... I guess I see your point. I'm just not sure if it's that effective to have a winter-themed Easter-parable being told around Christmas.\"\n\n\"Don't worry too much about it. Let's go sledding.\"\n\n\"Okay. Let's go.\"" ]	2
	[WP] The 'hero' with the world's worst superpower tries to help.	[ "\"he gutted the dog and strangled the girl with the animals intestines. the father cracked... That bombs gonna go off in less than five minutes.\"\n\nSuddenly there he was Spoondater. \"guys can I help? Need to know any spoons birthday or the date of important spoon related news?\"\n\nJust then the detective realised, \"no we don't now fuck off spoonraper.\"", "The \"or die\" was being told by the gun in the huge mugger's hand.\n\nRaymond was terrified. He was in a dark alley, with a gun pointed at his head, and was slowly taking out his wallet. Through the haze of fear, he was fervently wishing he would come out of this alive. Luckily, he didn't see his mugger's face and could honestly bargain if it came to that.\n\n\"Stop, in the name of Mister Immortal!\" Said a scrawny man in a blue spandex outfit.\n\n\"Damn it, one of the supers! What's your power? Super-strength? Super-speed? Telekinesis?\" Asked the mugger.\n\n\"Immortality, of course. That's why I'm called Mister Immortal!\"\n\nThe mugger shot him in the kneecap, took the wallet, and walked away. Mister Immortal was still screaming." ]	2

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