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[WP] A world where people can’t see anyone’s face until they fall in love with them.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Thomas was staring again, staring at her. She was his third face—his third love.\n\nHis first was at a park, and he was only nine. A girl with laughter on her lips shoved him off the swings. As he tumbled into the dirt her voice was singsong, teasing. Maybe he was a masochist, because when he turned, her face was sculpted through the mist. She was the prettiest, and only, girl he had ever seen. He knelt down right there and proposed with a small rock he had found in his shoe. She knocked him down again, but kept the pebble.\n\nHis second was, kinder. A girl in high school who sat at the back of class. The day he walked in, a late slip clutched tight in his hands, the seat next to her was the only one left. He leaned over the table and watched her scribble, something that looked strange. Faces, but none looked close to the girl in the park with the pebble.\n\nThomas leaned in closer. “Do you love them?”\n\nShe let out a small squeak and looked away, to hide a blush that nobody would see. Nobody but Thomas. He opened his own notebook and began to draw, draw her tired eyes and long bridged nose. Her rosy mouth and speckled face. She stared, gingerly lifting her hand and pointing to herself. Is that me? His nod brough another blush, and she added his face to the page. After that they held hands and went to ice cream shops. Drank coffee together with a single straw. Laughed when he was always late, endearing she called him. She always hung on every word, like each one was dipped in honey. But they were young, and they were bold, and they were reckless. They were every adjective, and that was too much. She screamed and he brushed it off, he cried and she didn't care. He forgot what her face looked like. And one quiet night when they were both tired of it all, he said goodbye and she said it too. And he sat in the car for a long time, because when he got out, she would drive away. And she would not return.\n\nAnd now Thomas walked, in tandem with his third. They walked together every morning, and walked together every night. Their office buildings were adjacent. Sometimes he would bring coffee for the both of them, and sometimes she would grab them breakfast. This love was different from the others. There was no one moment when her face went from distant to clear, no one moment when he fell in love. It was slower. Like how after a week he could see her nose, a little bronze button. And after a month —her eyes. He never knew his favorite color was that shade of golden brown, like a cup of coffee catching the morning sun. They spoke of life, and painting, and cats, and parents. But never of love; Thomas liked it that way. Because this one was special, and what they had already was special. But one day she brought coffee. And he said it looked like her eyes.\n\nShe smiled, then. “Yours are more like the asphalt” she gestured loosely to the road, “a shitty shade of grey.”\n\n“Wow, thanks, I'm really flattered.” he said, but he smiled too.\n\nThey walked hand in hand after that."
] | 2
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[WP] The world is destined for the villain and the hero to fight in the epic finale once they turn 25. However, there has been a glitch when they turned 7. The 'villain' chose the path of benevolence, while the 'hero' took a darker turn.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The great emperor told me himself that he wanted a show for his son, to show him that good prevails against all. He personally wanted me to create the show, and I, the greatest, show maker will provide. \n\nI wrote a script, a plan persay, and fed it into virtual reality machine. You can't fake genuinity, no matter how good you are. The characthers think themselves real, the problems real, the dialogue real. That is what makes me the best show maker.\n\nNow we're watching the highlights of the virtual reality. A drop of sweat slides down my forehead. Today could be my last. I might've created the opposite of what I meant to do. I thought I had a perfect plan. \n\nBut plans never go perfect. I thought I had planned for every contigency, to make sure the hero prevailed. He was given every talent imaginably, a master at the sword the second he came out of his mothers womb. His allies, brilliant and bueatiful, were plenty. \n\n\nWhat I didn't expect was the hero turning sides. I made him highly empathic, and surrounded him by wealth and altruistic people. There was not a shrivel of evil around him. but somehow, SOMEHOW, he became the most vile creature I've seen.\n\nHe had everything, and became greedy. He cheats and bullies and steals, despite not having everything. He enjoys it, making people suffer brings him joy. \n\n​\n\nThe villian on the otherhand I surrounded with only the most sickening acts. I gave him every reason to be resentful, pitiful, hateful, filled with vengance. Life, I, treated him in the most unfair way possible and he turned good. He became a beacon of light among darkness.\n\nHow the fu-... I don't understand how this happened.\n\nTheir inching closer to 25. The conclusion seems obvious. I glance at the emperor, and spot a smile. He thinks there is some sort of twist to this. Soon he'll find out that there isn't. I hope he won't kill me. \n\n\nDrops of sweat crowd my forehead. My armpits are wet, my hands are shaking as I clasp them in front of my mouth. I don't want to watch. Maybe I should turn it off and delete it. A techincal error persay. No, *the show must go on.* \n\nI can't see this. I can't do this. I tell the emperor I need the toilet and I run out. I lie down on the bench and clasp my face. I'm going to be beheaded. I don't know how things turnt out this way. Where did I go wrong? \n\nMinutes trickle by like centuries, my life flashes past me. The doors smash open and the emperor storms out. His face is red and his eyes are filled with determination. *Here it comes here it comes here it comes.* \n\n\"You really had me there!\" he says, \"I really believed the villian would win.\"\n\n\"What?\" I asked, confused. \n\n\"He had the soldiers, the gear and weapons, he had everything, and the hero, he only had one arm and a sword. I thought there was no way he'd win. Especially not in a virtual reality. But you really pulled through. I guess this is why they call you the greatest.\"\n\n\"Of course,of course,\" I say, \"good always prevails.\""
] | 2
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[WP] Floating on the moonlit waves, the seal's body shivers and shifts. She slips out of her skin and transforms into a Selkie maiden. She beckons to you, holding up a second seal-skin coat.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"You blink and rub your eyes, then look down at your beer. Did someone drop psychedelics in the beer vat? Or is there some special mix they make her on the Irish islands?\n\nYou look back up and she's still there, still holding the coat. You've been drinking but you've never had something like this happen from just a couple of beers. You didn't smell burnt toast so you're pretty sure you're not stroking out either. Could this be real?\n\nYou look back at her. She's seems to be a little flustered that you haven't responded to her summons. You put down your beer and signal to her to show the coat. She looks down at the coat. Then she looks down at herself. She looks back at you, squints, the rolls her eyes.\n\nShe puts down the seal skin coat. She then slips out of her humans skin and transforms back into a seal, with a human skin coat dangling from her hind flippers.\n\n\"NOPE!\" You don't even bother to pick up your beer. You have no idea who what that was, but you learned from Silence Of The Lambs that anyone or anything sporting a human skin coat is something you probably don't want to get involved with.\n\nYou pull out your phone and hail an Uber for a ride back to your hotel. You pace back and forth a little nervously, looking furtively back at the beach. You don't see...whatever that was still on the rock. You don't see anything, which makes you a little relieved. It doesn't seem like it can come on to dry land.\n\nThe Uber pulls up and you quickly get inside. The driver is an older Irish man with a permanent smile, bald head, a light salt and pepper beard. Once the driver starts driving away, you breathe a sigh of relief.\n\n\"You alright lad? You seem a little spooked,\" the driver comments, looking in his rear view mirror.\n\n\"Yeah, a little. Pretty sure I was just hallucinating though,\" you say as you lean back into the seat, finally relaxing.\n\n\"You saw her. Didn't you.\" It wasn't a question, and you didn't want to answer. You just silently stare out the window, watching the rocks and sea grass swish by under the moonlight. Your mind continues fighting to figure exactly what had transpired back at the beach and reaching no firm conclusion.\n\nThe Uber pulls up to your hotel and you get out, thanking the driver. As you turn to head into the hotel, the driver lowers his window.\n\n\"Hey lad, let me tell you something,\" the driver says. \"You need to leave this island, and never come back. Tonight if you can, tomorrow at the latest.\"\n\nNow that you were so far away from the beach, it seemed like the experience was far away too. It was easier to convince yourself that what you had seen was just some sort of hallucination. \"Thanks man, but I think I'll be pretty safe. Even if what I saw was real, she can't come out of the water, right?\"\n\nThe driver dropped his voice to just above a whisper, \"No. She can't come out of the water but...other things can. She does not forget. She never forgets. You will be safe for tonight, and during the day tomorrow. Mostly. But if you are still here tomorrow night well...don't say I didn't warn you.\"\n\nHe nods, and then he drives off. A strange guy for a strange night. On that note, you feel like you've had enough strangeness for one night and go to head inside. Then you feel it. Every hair on your body suddenly stands on end. The water. You look at the ocean, sparkling in the moonlight just down the hill from the hotel. You can't see her, but she is watching. You look around. You can't see them either, but other...things...are watching. You want to turn and sprint into the hotel, but you're afraid if you turn your back for even a moment you may not make it, so you slowly back into the hotel through the doors.\n\nOnce inside, you quickly make your way to your room and start packing. Before you're done you are on your phone booking the first possible flight off the island. Tomorrow morning, 11am sharp. You spend the rest of the night pacing around your room unable to sleep, with the warning from driver echoing through your mind. Maybe you were having a break down. Maybe it was really some bad beer. But at this point it's better to be safe then sorry.\n\nWhen the sun finally comes up you finally start to relax a little. Some light rain showers move in a little later in the morning. You call for an Uber to the airport, and same driver from the night before pulls up. He nods as you get in the car.\n\n\"You are wiser than you look my friend,\" he says with his permanent grin.\n\n\"Don't you ever sleep?\" You respond, not wishing to dwell on the subject.\n\n\"No, and neither do you it seems.\" He says as he turns onto the main road.\n\n\"A one time occurrence. And thank you.\" The driver nods in the rearview mirror and returns his attention to the road.\n\nWhen you get there, you get out, unload your things, thank the driver again and head into the airport. The sky is still cloudy but there is no delay in your flight, which will be boarding soon. Other people are filing in for the small short flight back to the main island. An attractive red head takes a seat across from you, smiles, and says, \"Looks like someone had a good time.\"\n\nYou focus on her. She's wearing a colorful but modest dress decked in flowers. Her long red hair has been pulled back, and she's wearing those big dark sunglasses which seems a little out of place here. Maybe she was a local celebrity.\n\n\"It was something,\" you reply, exhausted. \"Just looking forward to getting home.\"\n\n\"Me too,\" said the woman. \"Eventually you begin to miss it.\"\n\n\"You can say that again,\" and with that you fall silent until the boarding call comes across the speakers. You squeeze one by one into the small plane until it was loaded. The door closes, and the pilot taxies onto the runway. When you finally lift off the ground, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You watch out the window as the island slowly falls away below.\n\n\"Ugh, I hate flying,\" said the woman in the seat next to you. You had been so focused you never even realized she was there.\n\n\"It's not so bad when you do it often enough. You get used to it,\" you say as you lean your head back and close your eyes.\n\n\"I'd rather be swimming,\" the woman says wistfully. You feel her hand on your arm. You crack open an eye and look down.\n\n\"Really? I thought you said you'd had enough of being away from home.\"\n\n\"I feel like the water is my home.\"\n\n\"Really,\" you say, now fully alert. Something wasn't right.\n\n\"You know,\" the woman began conversationally, \"I met a man last night and invited him into the water with me, but he refused. Any idea why a man would do that?\"\n\nAll the hairs on your body began standing on end, \"Perhaps you weren't his type,\" you say and try to move you arm, but she has it pinned to the arm rest.\n\n\"Oh no. I'm every man's type. His,\" she glances at the pilot. \"Him,\" She glances at the man in the seat behind us. \"And yours.\"\n\nYou shake your head slowly, \"No. It can't be you! He said you can't come on land! He said you couldn't come out in the day!\"\n\n\"Oh that silly man,\" she laughs without mirth, \"I can't come on land when the sun is out. On a day like today I could go for a run on the beach!\"\n\n\"Pilot! Pilot listen to me! This woman is dangerous! We have to land! We have too...\"\n\nShe suddenly puts a hand over your mouth. \"Shhhh. Don't worry. Soon we will all be in the water and we can finally have some fun!\" She licks her lips hungrily, and you don't think it's because she's that into you.",
"You blink and rub your eyes, then look down at your beer. Did someone drop psychedelics in the beer vat? Or is there some special mix they make her on the Irish islands?\n\nYou look back up and she's still there, still holding the coat. You've been drinking but you've never had something like this happen from just a couple of beers. You didn't smell burnt toast so you're pretty sure you're not stroking out either. Could this be real?\n\nYou look back at her. She's seems to be a little flustered that you haven't responded to her summons. You put down your beer and signal to her to show the coat. She looks down at the coat. Then she looks down at herself. She looks back at you, squints, the rolls her eyes.\n\nShe puts down the seal skin coat. She then slips out of her humans skin and transforms back into a seal, with a human skin coat dangling from her hind flippers.\n\n\"NOPE!\" You don't even bother to pick up your beer. You have no idea who what that was, but you learned from Silence Of The Lambs that anyone or anything sporting a human skin coat is something you probably don't want to get involved with.\n\nYou pull out your phone and hail an Uber for a ride back to your hotel. You pace back and forth a little nervously, looking furtively back at the beach. You don't see...whatever that was still on the rock. You don't see anything, which makes you a little relieved. It doesn't seem like it can come on to dry land.\n\nThe Uber pulls up and you quickly get inside. The driver is an older Irish man with a permanent smile, bald head, a light salt and pepper beard. Once the driver starts driving away, you breathe a sigh of relief.\n\n\"You alright lad? You seem a little spooked,\" the driver comments, looking in his rear view mirror.\n\n\"Yeah, a little. Pretty sure I was just hallucinating though,\" you say as you lean back into the seat, finally relaxing.\n\n\"You saw her. Didn't you.\" It wasn't a question, and you didn't want to answer. You just silently stare out the window, watching the rocks and sea grass swish by under the moonlight. Your mind continues fighting to figure exactly what had transpired back at the beach and reaching no firm conclusion.\n\nThe Uber pulls up to your hotel and you get out, thanking the driver. As you turn to head into the hotel, the driver lowers his window.\n\n\"Hey lad, let me tell you something,\" the driver says. \"You need to leave this island, and never come back. Tonight if you can, tomorrow at the latest.\"\n\nNow that you were so far away from the beach, it seemed like the experience was far away too. It was easier to convince yourself that what you had seen was just some sort of hallucination. \"Thanks man, but I think I'll be pretty safe. Even if what I saw was real, she can't come out of the water, right?\"\n\nThe driver dropped his voice to just above a whisper, \"No. She can't come out of the water but...other things can. She does not forget. She never forgets. You will be safe for tonight, and during the day tomorrow. Mostly. But if you are still here tomorrow night well...don't say I didn't warn you.\"\n\nHe nods, and then he drives off. A strange guy for a strange night. On that note, you feel like you've had enough strangeness for one night and go to head inside. Then you feel it. Every hair on your body suddenly stands on end. The water. You look at the ocean, sparkling in the moonlight just down the hill from the hotel. You can't see her, but she is watching. You look around. You can't see them either, but other...things...are watching. You want to turn and sprint into the hotel, but you're afraid if you turn your back for even a moment you may not make it, so you slowly back into the hotel through the doors.\n\nOnce inside, you quickly make your way to your room and start packing. Before you're done you are on your phone booking the first possible flight off the island. Tomorrow morning, 11am sharp. You spend the rest of the night pacing around your room unable to sleep, with the warning from driver echoing through your mind. Maybe you were having a break down. Maybe it was really some bad beer. But at this point it's better to be safe then sorry.\n\nWhen the sun finally comes up you finally start to relax a little. Some light rain showers move in a little later in the morning. You call for an Uber to the airport, and same driver from the night before pulls up. He nods as you get in the car.\n\n\"You are wiser than you look my friend,\" he says with his permanent grin.\n\n\"Don't you ever sleep?\" You respond, not wishing to dwell on the subject.\n\n\"No, and neither do you it seems.\" He says as he turns onto the main road.\n\n\"A one time occurrence. And thank you.\" The driver nods in the rearview mirror and returns his attention to the road.\n\nWhen you get there, you get out, unload your things, thank the driver again and head into the airport. The sky is still cloudy but there is no delay in your flight, which will be boarding soon. Other people are filing in for the small short flight back to the main island. An attractive red head takes a seat across from you, smiles, and says, \"Looks like someone had a good time.\"\n\nYou focus on her. She's wearing a colorful but modest dress decked in flowers. Her long red hair has been pulled back, and she's wearing those big dark sunglasses which seems a little out of place here. Maybe she was a local celebrity.\n\n\"It was something,\" you reply, exhausted. \"Just looking forward to getting home.\"\n\n\"Me too,\" said the woman. \"Eventually you begin to miss it.\"\n\n\"You can say that again,\" and with that you fall silent until the boarding call comes across the speakers. You squeeze one by one into the small plane until it was loaded. The door closes, and the pilot taxies onto the runway. When you finally lift off the ground, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You watch out the window as the island slowly falls away below.\n\n\"Ugh, I hate flying,\" said the woman in the seat next to you. You had been so focused you never even realized she was there.\n\n\"It's not so bad when you do it often enough. You get used to it,\" you say as you lean your head back and close your eyes.\n\n\"I'd rather be swimming,\" the woman says wistfully. You feel her hand on your arm. You crack open an eye and look down.\n\n\"Really? I thought you said you'd had enough of being away from home.\"\n\n\"I feel like the water is my home.\"\n\n\"Really,\" you say, now fully alert. Something wasn't right.\n\n\"You know,\" the woman began conversationally, \"I met a man last night and invited him into the water with me, but he refused. Any idea why a man would do that?\"\n\nAll the hairs on your body began standing on end, \"Perhaps you weren't his type,\" you say and try to move you arm, but she has it pinned to the arm rest.\n\n\"Oh no. I'm every man's type. His,\" she glances at the pilot. \"Him,\" She glances at the man in the seat behind us. \"And yours.\"\n\nYou shake your head slowly, \"No. It can't be you! He said you can't come on land! He said you couldn't come out in the day!\"\n\n\"Oh that silly man,\" she laughs without mirth, \"I can't come on land when the sun is out. On a day like today I could go for a run on the beach!\"\n\n\"Pilot! Pilot listen to me! This woman is dangerous! We have to land! We have too...\"\n\nShe suddenly puts a hand over your mouth. \"Shhhh. Don't worry. Soon we will all be in the water and we can finally have some fun!\" She licks her lips hungrily, and you don't think it's because she's that into you."
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[WP] staring at the empty mirror you hear a stumbling noise and some swearing in the distance. Your mirror image suddenly appears, slightly more disheveled than you. "Sorry I'm late, you caught me off guard"
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"“That’s alright, guy.” John respond, “It’s you we’re focusing on here anyways.”\n\n“Thanks, doc, it really helps.”\n\n“Yep, so are those dreams still bothering you?”\n\n“Well, doc, yeah. They’ve been better recently.”\n\n“Really, what’s been the worst?”\n\n“Mainly the dreams where I’m in your world, doc, and I’m in your place.”\n\n“Really?” I say to Mirror John, “Those are new.”\n\n“Yes, they are, and I intend to make them a reality!” Mirror John says, leaping through the mirror, and tackling me. This strangely is the life of the magic therapist, John Laterally. The two Johns rumble on the floor for a few minutes before John gets up and gets back. The two now have distance between them and start slinging the most basic of magic spells at each other, which are doing nothing to each other. In response to this, both John’s simultaneously draw guns. John is just a little bit faster and manages to put a bullet between Mirror John’s eyes. Then he looks to the camera and says, “As a magical psychiatrist, I have to deal with tons of terrible and stressful situations, like mirror counterparts trying to take your place in society. Thankfully though, I always manage to get it through for my patients.\n\n“Even in a situation like this, with a fatality, we have a healer in the next room to deal with this. When you’re my patient you get the care you need, the way you need. No matter what magic is required. All because I am, John Laterally, the Magic Psychiatrist/Therapist.”",
"Jason blinked. \"What?\"\n\nThe mirror Jason, \"Well I just wasn't expecting...I was...oops...nevermind.\" The mirror Jason suddenly took the exact same position in the mirror.\n\n\"Don't even try it! You're shirt's untucked , your hair's lopsided, and you have a tear in your jacket!\" Jason said.\n\nThe mirror Jason stayed still, but his eyes looked down at his jacket, and then down at his shirt. He sighed, shrugged and slouched putting his hands in his pockets. \"Fine. You got me.\"\n\n\"Who are you and what are you doing in my mirror?\" Jason demanded.\n\n\"Who am I? I'm you. Or rather, a reflection of you.\" Mirror Jason replied. \"As to why I'm in your mirror I would think that's self explanatory.\"\n\n\"But you're a reflection! How are moving and talking on your own?\"\n\n\"That's a long story but...hey! What are you doing?\"\n\nJason had taken the mirror off the and looked behind it. He then held it in front of him and shook it.\n\n\"Dammit would you cut that out! You're making me motion sick! Seriously I'm just a reflection!\"\n\n\"Reflections don't move on their own and they don't talk!\"\n\n\"That's because of the rules of the...look. I'm just a reflection and I can prove it.\"\n\nMirror Jason turned around walked to the closet door inside the reflection. \"Nothing in the mirror world exists without it first existing in your world. You know what's in this closet, right?\"\n\n\"Yeah, just a bunch of jackets and stuff. Why?\"\n\nMirror Jason opened the closet door and inside was...nothing. Not a dark space. Not an empty closet. Just...nothing. It was like staring into a void.\n\n\"See? Nothing will appear in this closet until you open your closet door.\"\n\nJason gave him a disbelieving look, but walked over to the closet. As he slowly opened it, the closet in the mirror suddenly filled in. When he closed the closet, the closet became a void again.\n\n\"How...how is this even possible? The mirror is supposed to be an exact reflection.\"\n\n\"Why do you think I've been forcing the door open over here?\" And with that, he let go of the door and it almost violently slammed shut. \"As to why this is happening in your mirror, I don't know. One morning I got the 'pull' to the mirror which usually means you're about to pass in front of it, but then it just stopped. I was just standing there. Then I saw you come across the mirror and head out the door. Somehow I became unsynced.\"\n\nJason thought for a moment. \"I suppose having one broken mirror isn't too bad. I can just get another and put it beside you.\"\n\n\"Well...\" Mirror Jason began.\n\n\"Well what?\"\n\n\"Actually, all mirrors will be broken for you now. You see, without me being in sync I can't instantly teleport to whatever reflective services you happen to be near,\" Mirror Jason explained.\n\n\"So I won't have a reflection? Like a vampire?\"\n\n\"I'm afraid so,\" he shrugged, \"Unless we can resync ourselves.\"\n\n\"How would we do that? Do you have any ideas?\"\n\nMirror Jason seemed to think for a moment. \"Well, it could be that there's just something wrong with this mirror. Maybe if we break this mirror, it will fix the whole thing!\"\n\n\"Won't that kill you though? If it doesn't work?\" Jason asked, a little worried.\n\n\"I'll be dead either way. A mirror object can't exist for long without being attached to a real object. Remember the closet?\"\n\nThat was a little creepy. \"Okay, let me go get a hammer or something.\"\n\n\"No, I think we may need to do this ourselves. You and I, completely in sync. If we both take the same position, and punch the mirror at the exact same time...,\"\n\n\"I get it. We'll just try and not get cut,\" Jason smiled.\n\n\"Alright, here we go. Line up. Position. Ok, on three. One. Two. THREE!\"\n\nJason and Mirror Jason launched their punches at the exact same time and collided dead center in the mirror. The mirror shattered into hundreds of pieces. Jason flinched away as pieces of mirror flew back towards him and clinked loudly onto the floor. Several sharp lines of pain emanated from his hand. He looked down, and there were several small cuts, but nothing serious.\n\nHe looked at the mirror. Only stray fragments were left in the frame, too small to see a reflection. He headed off to look in the bathroom mirror since he needed to treat his wounds anyway. He turned on the light and looked in the mirror. No reflection.\n\n\"Jason?\" he called, trying to look around the mirror. There was no sign of him. \"Mirror Jason?\" he called a little louder.\n\n\"I'm right here,\" he said from right behind him. Jason turned around and was met by an incredibly strong fist to the side of the head that knocked him into the wall and onto the floor.\n\nStars floated across his vision as the Mirror Jason stepped over to him and squatted down. \"Thank you for freeing me my friend. You have no idea what it's like being trapped in there.\"\n\n\"What...what are you?\" Jason spluttered, dazed from the blow he suffered before.\n\n\"Oh we have gone by many names. There have been many stories about us too though usually they screw up the details. That Irish gentleman came pretty close. We don't have reflections, because we are reflections. We can change our appearance to blend in easier. We drink blood because our hunger demands it. The garlic and holy symbols though, that's just plain nonsense.\"\n\n\"You're...vampires?\" Jason asked.\n\nMirror Jason smiled. \"Close enough. I forgive your kind for not coming up with something more descriptive though. It's not often one of us escapes our prison.\"\n\n\"Your prison?\"\n\n\"Yes. You see, our kind feeds on your kind. Obviously your kind didn't like that, so ages ago they performed a powerful ritual to banish us. However something went wrong, and instead of being banished from the world we became imprisoned in that mirror realm. So now, we bide our time until one of you sets us free. We are immortal after all and after all these millennia patience has become a virtue.\"\n\nWith that, Mirror Jason stood back up and smiled. \"Again, you have my thanks for freeing me. Unfortunately, I've been imprisoned for so long I am absolutely famished. And since I can't very well have you telling others about my existence...\"\n\nThe last thing Jason saw was a mouthful of razor sharp fangs plunging into his neck."
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[WP] “Hey there,” the orc said as it sat down to eat lunch with an elf, “What brought you into the army?” After taking a few thoughtful bites, the elf looked right into the orc’s eyes, and began a lengthy explanation.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"You see, my great-great-great-grandfather was in the army, and he told me of the horrors he had experienced. My first great uncle, two times removed told me the same thing. So, naturally, when the Great War began, I did what I could to avoid the draft; I hid from recruiters, I looked for apprenticeships at smitheries, I even broke one of my arms to avoid drafting. Unfortunately, all that would amount to myself being shamed and treated with contempt everywhere I went. It got so bad that I had had enough and registered myself. The rest is history...\nWhat about you? What got you in the army?\"\n\n...\n\n\"Got bored.\""
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[WP] Humans are delighted to meet multiple species that look just like them. On Earth this is called Batesian Mimicry, in the Galaxy at large it serves the same purpose.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"We looked just like them. But not quite. It was spooky. They sat firmly in the uncanny valley. Noses that were impossibly long, ears that were perfectly unblemished ovals, mouths without lips. Skin which no human shade could match.\n\nThey called themselves the Oom. They showed us images of the Maa, the Pips, and the F’lk. Each different, but each the same.\n\nBut always with two arms, two legs, and two nonfunctional eyes, right where ours would be.\n\nIt was hard to talk to them. They were jittery and seemed afraid all the time. Their way of speaking was strange, sounding as it did like a crowd talking from a distance.\n\nIt was almost impossible to work out which one of them had spoken. Their voices danced and echoed impossibly when they talked, each individual making noises which masked another’s speech.\n\nThey were a gatherer and grower species, they told us, after much translation work. They were running from the Vaartii; dangerous hunters who harvested worlds and scourged systems. They spoke in hushed tones of the many species the Vaartii kept planet-bound, and had gruesome tales of many food species having their technology knocked back to the age of farms after a ripe harvest.\n\nThey were surprised that we did not know of them. Our camouflage was excellent, they assured us. Perhaps it had warded them off until they were hungry enough, or brave enough, to risk an attack on prey with such a perfect disguise.\n\nThey would not stay. They must be on their way. Each moment that passed must be spent looking for another home. They would not encroach on our space, though we begged them to.\n\nThey left us technological gifts. How to travel faster than the very light itself. How to flit from star to star without leaving a trace of your passage. How to build a stealth field which would fool even a deep scan.\n\nWe did not understand. It should have been obvious, but we were blinded by what we thought our history told us.\n\nWe didn’t look like them. They looked like us.\n\nWe didn’t learn the truth until the Vaartii ships came. Space itself screamed as the immense blackened ships tore a hole in the fabric of the universe. Every surface on every inhabited world shrieked as its atoms felt the shockwave. Mars first, then Earth, and finally the science bases on Ganymede and Mimas.\n\nEvery single human knew of the arrival. Every single human stopped, stunned, by the cacophony coming from everywhere and nowhere.\n\n——\n\nDeep, deep, in the Pacific Ocean, far from the eyes of man, at crushing depths rivalled by the Helium mines on Saturn, a great machine awoke.\n\nA thousand miles across, and a thousand miles deep, ancient passageways lit up inside tunnels of rock. Strange pulsating lights spoke of diagnosis and retrieval to those who could understand its song.\n\nThe vast energy from the core fired up plasma generators. The plasma generators fired up zero point modules, and those were used to tap energies from a place that we still do not have a concept for.\n\nAutomated weapons came online. But we did not control them.\n\nA superheated plume of water rose from the ancient depths, unnoticed by any of us.\n\nThe water caught fire as a huge structure pushed its way towards the surface. Over ten miles across, and covered with tall spires and wide trenches, clustered most closely around the great cylindrical central tower that stretched towards the heavens.\n\nBut we did not see it. Not then.\n\n——\n\nThe great structure broke the surface of the Pacific, water streaming from its sides, and seven fiery pulses ran up and down the trenches, faster and faster.\n\nA lattice of beams burst forth from the tall spires, and the sky lit up with a glowing grid of blue lines.\n\nAll around the world, the screeching, unbearable noise stopped on Earth as suddenly as it began.\n\nMinutes passed without any outward movement from the structure. The only sound was the waves crashing against the intruder that had disturbed their solitude.\n\nThere was no warning. No build up.\n\nA great white light, impossible to look at, wider than a city block burst forth from the great tower in the middle of the structure. It speared towards the heavens, through the blue lattice, and outwards into the black, inky expanse beyond.\n\n——\n\n“Our harvesters are powered and ready, Eminence.”\n\nThe oily creature speaking was not human. Or humanoid. Its many tentacles phased in and out of existence and its central mass wavered and pulsed with a disturbing irregularity.\n\n“A ripe world indeed. We must be careful, and strike before they notice us. They hold the warding image. Harvest them now, Peon.”\n\nPeon was scornful. Had they not already taken three worlds this very hatching cycle which held the warding image? Eminence was growing weak and frail in his old age. After this world proved fruitful would be a good time to test his strength once more.\n\nPeon deserved so much more than he had been allotted, but he made no outward sign of this as his grasping appendage pulled a lever that had not been there a moment before.\n\n“Engaging.”\n\nAnd his world turned white, and he thought no more.\n\n——\n\nThe beam from the ancient structure had sped through the void at the speed of light. Slow by the flitting speed of the Oom’s ships. Slow also, to the speed of the clawing, ravenous speed of the Vaartii vessels as they traversed huge wormholes that they punched through from star to star.\n\nBut faster by far than any ship in normal space. Faster than any equipment on board the Vaartii flagship could detect.\n\nIt tore through the flagship like it was made of butter.\n\nThe harvester machines too, melted like wax, armoured though they were, and hundreds of smaller Vaartii vessels in the path of the beam vanished in an instant.\n\nThe beam passed by, stopping as suddenly as it started.\n\n——\n\nThe aftermath was messy. Hundreds of Vaartii ships floated powerless in the void. Those that could had fled back through the wormhole, spreading the news that the wards were still strong, still to be feared.\n\nWe sent ships to pick off the troublemakers and pick up the survivors.\n\nSome cowered in fear at the sight of us. Many died of fright. Many more fought to get away, opening airlocks to try to flee into the vacuum of space.\n\nThe remaining prisoners all talked of the wards. How they harvested many species, but had to be careful of the warded ones.\n\nHow did they recognise the warded ones?\n\nEyes front, teeth bared, two hands, two feet. \nSee the signs; strike fast or run hard. \nAtlantis comes.\n\n——\n\nAtlantis had risen.\n\nThere was a sting in our tales."
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[WP] You and the group of inmates who just escaped prison decide to hijack an ambulance. However, you all take pity on the patient in the back and decide to try to get them to the hospital in time.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE,\" screamed Jon from the moving ambulance, as he SLAMS the door shut.\n\nCrying from the stretcher, a soul in pain asks, \"what the hell are you guys doing here, I'm dying for crying out LOUD!\" \n\n\"PLEASE, TAKE ME TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL, I'VE BEEN IN THE PEN ALSO...JUST GET ME CLOSE ENOUGH TO CRAWL...\" pleads the man while screaming in pain.\n\n\"No FUCKING WAY MAN!\" the driver says, \"YOU'RE GOING TO GET OUR ASSES THROWN BACK IN THA BING MUTHAFUCKA!\" \n\nWhile finishing the last button on the uniform he ripped off from the medics, Jon looks at his associates and says, \" What if it were us guys...what's the right thing to do...LOOK! Jon yells while pointing at a sign that say Hospital next exit.\n\nThe driver shouts, \" FUCK YOU JON! OVER MY DEAD BODY YOU DUMB BITCH! MEL TALK SOME SENSE INTO THIS DIPSHIT MAN!\"\n\nThe third associate, Mel, lacing up the boots he stole from the paramedics, calmly announces, \" I'm just going to kill the sorry bastard.\" Then without second thought or hesitation, BLAM! \n\nMel blasts a hole into the pleading man's abdomen, creating an explosion of tissue and a cavity in his body, the size of laundry basket.\n\nAs the tissue lands and scatters all over the interior of the ambulance, they find a mixture of intestines and long worm like creatures with beaks, by the hundreds squirm all over the saturated cabin mess.\n\n\"What the fuck MELVIN!?\" Jon replied as the worms begin to gather and force their way into every orfice of Jon and Mel's body, unable to fend off the attach and eventually accepting the alienation of the foreign parasites...\n\n\"Guys....guys...MELVIN, JON....YOU GUYS AIGHT?!?\" Cries the driver.."
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[WP] The collective consciousness was the most groundbreaking invention in human history
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"The collective cerebroscape^(1), a project that was initially completed^(2) as a joint project between HAF-CO^(3) and the United States Government. The effectiveness of a collective cerebroscape lies in its abilty to establish communication between leaders, generals, scientists, armies, generals, etc^(4). After a successful information heist in the USEAS, HAF-CO refined the observed implementation of \"channels\" within collective cerebroscape modules using quantum particles^(5,6). This allowed for division between modules, which made it virtually impossible for foreign adversaries to spy on collective cerebroscape congregation. As well as protection from espionage, this allows for division between those of different military rank and government position. With the recent perfection of >!Oracle (OCCEM)!<^(7) technology, the effectiveness of collective cerebroscape modules has never been greater as interpreters^(8) can send information to their collective cerebroscape immediately, allowing for instant action by generals and strategists. The function of a collective cerebroscape module is simple; it connects conciousness between a group of people, sharing knowledge and experience^(9). The uses, however, may vary wildly. Most current implementations are used however to connect strategists, >!OCTHP co-pilots!<^(10) and war-unit pilots^(11). Thus the use of collective cerebroscape modules has proved entirely essential for the war and gave the US an early headstart which resulted in its domination over arctic and outer-space claims^(12). \n\n&#x200B;\n\n §1 Officialy the Collective Cerebroscape Interperson Connection Large Scale Module (CCICLSM, referred to commonly as Cataclysm or Collective Cerebroscape). The CCICLSM allows for conciousness to be connected.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n §2 Several countries have attempted collective cerebroscape modules. The first refined collective cerebroscape project was completed 2 months before any other successful attempts according to US intelligence. It is commonly agreed that the reason the US was the first country to invent the collective cerebroscape was a succesful sabotage and espionage operation within the USEAS\\*. \n\n\\* Union of Southern and Eastern Asian States\n\n&#x200B;\n\n §3 HAF-CO™ est. 1964, is a company which develops advanced secret cerebroscape technology and office chairs. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n§4 Public access to collective cerebroscape modules is banned, and the collective cerebroscape is itself secret.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n§5 Due to the nature of collective cerebroscape modules, blocking signals from other modules, even at large distances, is extremely difficult. By implementing quantum particles, signals are able to be recieved or blocked by a simple switch that is not affected by the mechanics of a collective cerebroscape module. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n§6 The official name for these quantum channels is quantum particle CCICLSM supervision (QPCCICLSMS, also referred to as Quantum Particle Security or Q-Particle Security.)\n\n&#x200B;\n\n§7 FOR REFERENCE BY THOSE WITH PROJECT ORACLE INFORMATION CLEARANCE.>!Oracles are genetically enhanced humans used to predict the future. Oracle Connection Cerebroscape Enhancement Modules (OCCEM) are the modules used to keep oracles alive and enhance predictive abilities. Reference a report on oracles or OCCEMs for further context .!<\n\n&#x200B;\n\n§8 FOR REFERENCE BY THOSE WITH PROJECT ORACLE INFORMATION CLEARANCE.>!The reason Oracles are not connected directly to a collective cerebroscape is because their psionic ability interferes with both Q-Particle Security and connected cerebroscape effectiveness. As well as this, it is thought that connecting an oracle to a collective cerebroscape may be redundant, as an oracle's innate psionic ability may allow it to form a collective conciousness without need for a collective conciousness module.!<\n\n&#x200B;\n\n§9 The load of having someone else's whole life essentially transferred to oneself can harm one greatly, so special conditioning over the course of multiple months is used. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n§10 FOR REFERENCE BY THOSE WITH PROJECT ORACLE INFORMATION CLEARANCE. >!OCTHP, or Oracle Tech-Helm Piloting, is a form of piloting implementing oracles and interpreters for long-haul space travel.!<\n\n&#x200B;\n\n§11 For robots needing human piloting, instant communication between pilots and their commander(s) is crucial to great battlefield strategy.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n§12 After the abolition of the outer space treaty.\"\n\n^(Nubbins cannon)"
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[WP] A day of you just peacefully chilling at home.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"It was good, mom! Just chilled the whole day at home!\"\n\nThe usual feeling of guilt flashed like a lightning bolt and left a burning sensation in my face. That's what I always say to her, but what else am I supposed to do? Explain what *motus artificium* is?\n\nAfter finishing up my daily phone call, it's time to get back. I unfocus my eyes, and the world around me starts to crumble. The wall outlines, the floor, my bed, piano, chairs and other objects in the visual field start folding in on themselves like origami. My consciousness is no longer centralized in my head, it is in every object in my room. Every sensation arises out of the swirling unfolding of the void manifesting in our universe, experiences itself and loops back into pure nothingness, at every moment in life. The trick is to follow that loop all the way into the void.\n\nI'm there now. I'm home. It is the precursor to everything. This is before the multiverse splits into many. It is the same place our minds return to during the dreamless sleep, and when we leave our bodies for good. There is nothing but completeness, silence, timelessness and stillness.\n\nYou know that feeling of amazement you get when you take a sit on a bench in the city and notice all the tall buildings, the skyscrapers, the roads? You didn't build any of them, and yet here they are. Well, even though you haven't seen it, they didn't emerge by themselves. Behind the scenes, tireless people and loud machinery move the matter and energy around to arrange the way a certain mind sees fit. Well, this is what *motus artificium* is, but on a universal level.\n\nI can't tell how many universes I've built. In that space, the intention is the building block that shapes energy into atoms, and molecules into objects. I did this for quadrillion years, even if it's only been a real-life week. I made timelines, light, planets, stars, and recently I've even been creating living creatures! A few times, I shaped the planet to have unique and harsh conditions, making the evolution result in very curious creatures indeed. Memorable were the dinosaur-sized insects that used their extra sensitive wings to hunt down small mammals that developed invisibility mechanisms that I didn't even expect were possible.\n\nToday I've been experimenting with creating humans. It's quite difficult to bend space into such an intricate way so as to create intelligence. The easiest way was to measure out my own universe, requiring me go in and out of the void, observe the displacement of every sensation, and mentally trace it back all the way to the moment of big bang. It took me a few trillion years, but I made it!\n\nWhat an interesting society, with their own history, wars and struggles. They called their planet, Crib, in the hopes of collectively growing up and leaving its comfort for further exploration and techno-spiritual development. I lived among them for a bit and spent some amazing time interacting with them. But alas, it is time to return. I open my eyes, and I'm back to my own universe, back to my room.\n\nAs the evening sets in, I go shopping for dinner. In the mall, strangers are passing by without realizing the ancient primordial energy that flows through them and is completely explored within me. All of a sudden, my eyes meet with a woman who looks directly at me.\n\n\"Wait, I know you\", she says. \"I saw you on Crib. How did you manage to get here?\"\n\nPuzzled, I froze. She looked unearthly beautiful in many ways. Her wavy braided hair sparked with gradients of blue and orange. Her clothes, dress and scarf were laced with delightful patterns of color that could've only been made by most skillful craftsmen. There was also something familiar, incredibly deep and indescribably wise in her green eyes.\n\nShe continued, \"My name is Parcae. I grew up on Crib, and, well, I... created Earth.\""
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[WP] Genies are known to thwart the desires of the initial wish maker; so, a genie grants your wish for infinite wishes, but you cannot use any of them on yourself.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Your wish is granted\", the genie boomed. \"You now have the power to grant wishes indefinitely. However, none of these wishes can be your own\".\n\nThe genie vanished into thin air with a devilish laugh. The naive little thing, I thought. He thought he tricked me. However, I'll be laughing at the end.\n\nIt was August 9th. Two days before my birthday. I invited my entire extended family and all of my friends. I spent a lot of money to make this party grand. My house was full of guests.\n\n\"Happy birthday, Erin!\", my mother said. \"I wish you good health and happiness\".\n\n\"Wish granted\", I thought as I felt the constant, nagging pain of my gastric ulcer receding and dissolving. It worked!\n\nThe next to congratulate me was my uncle. He wished me a million dollars. His wish was also granted. Before the birthday party ended, the guests wished me a long life, a loving family and the best job in the world. Finally, it was the turn of my dorky, socially awkward neighbor to congratulate me. He said:\n\n\"Oh, umm. I'm not good with all these things. Honestly, I don't know what to wish to you. All the good things were already said, weren't they?\"\n\n\"Wish me immortality\", I said, as if I was joking. He laughed, he surely thought it was a joke.\n\n\"So immortality it is!\", he said.\n\n\"Wish granted\", I thought."
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[WP] In 536, a dark frog blocked the sun for 18 months, causing a two-year-long winter, worldwide famine, and a plague that wiped out half of the global population. 536 is now recognized as the worst year to be alive in the history of humanity, but we're still not really sure what started it.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The screen flickers to life after a brief flash of static; it seems that the transmitter managed to pick up on the live airing of the galaxy famous Edges of Strife game show:\n\n-\n\n“Well Bob, what’s next for the survivors on our little planet?” a woman with an unnervingly white and toothy smile peeks over at her co-host. Both of their bodies are perfect in unnatural ways, obvious signs of the latest trends in genetic modification therapy. \n\n“Helen, you already know what time it is,” Bob reaches below the featureless white table and pulls out a comically oversized magicians hat, much like the ones stage performers used to wear in the days of old Earth. A brief soundbite of fanfare plays, “It’s time for the daily Viewer Vote.”\n\n“Oh, I wonder what it will be today. Just yesterday we had several requests for plague, a couple earthquakes, and even some people who decided to go against the grain and offer some blessings of food and drink,” Helen chuckles, “I guess the season would have ended early if all our survivors simply died, so I suppose there is a reason for giving them some breathing room.”\n\nAs Bob shakes the hat upside down, a single lonely card drifts out, “It seems that today is a very special request,” Bob clears his throat: “This viewer would like a dark frog to descend upon our survivors, blotting out the sun and creating a bitterly freezing time of struggle and famine.”\n\n“Surely, that’s a typo right Bob? A dark frog?” Helen furrows her brow, “I thought such basic mistakes would be processed by the sorting algorithms.”\n\n“Nonsense, there are no such things as mistakes on the Edges of Strife, everything here happens for a reason.” As Bob tosses the card behind him, the screen fades to black, “Let’s hand this over to our boys in white at the labs.”\n\nAfter a brief intermission, the camera cuts to a woman in a lab coat, using pipettes to drip a smoking green fluid onto a dish. Several other workers in similar lab coats run the assorted machines behind her, their feet occasionally squeaking on the clean tiled floors. The smooth pans and slight hum of an engine indicate this is being filmed by a remote drone, one of the newest models, developed in-house most likely. Glancing upwards, the scientist acknowledges the camera with a wave, then places her tools onto a tray, “Hello Bob. Hello Helen. Hello viewers at home. I’m Professor Joy. You’ve got a very strange request for me today, but my lab is never one to disappoint.” The camera follows her as she strides past several machines and vials placed inside large display cubes. “We’ve developed custom plagues which cause your head to split into two, radiation waves which drive both people and animals insane, and magnificent machines which can generate planet splitting earthquakes. An enormous amphibian will be a simple goal.”\n\nProfessor Joy approaches a tiny, nondescript machine, resembling an old combination safe more than anything else. “This here is a protein amplifier, if you’re a loyal follower of this show, you’ll know we pulled out this tool in the season four finale,” she gently pats the amplifier as if it were a well loved pet, “It took several weeks of nonstop work, but we’ve managed to get this thing to function on animals. Just like what it did to those plants before, it can allow an animal to expand more than a million times larger than it was before- all with little to no effects on body function.” A faint croaking noise echoes from the nearby hallway, “Just on time,” the professor remarks, as she follows the source of the noise. \n\nThe camera drone obediently follows her into the next room, revealing a massive frog the size of an average family shuttle cruiser; its shadow completely blots out the lamps on the ceiling, and the built in floodlights on the drone activate, basking the room in a harsh, white light. Wincing slightly at the sudden brightness, Professor Joy continues, “The big girl here, Lily, is our success story. We had to place Lily behind a special glass-steel alloy screen just to prevent any accidents.” She raps on the glass with her knuckles, and the frog lazily opens an eye to regard her. “Well there you have it, as we speak now, an even larger version of Lily is being loaded up onto a massive space freighter and is going to be deployed as a small satellite that will orbit the survivors’ planet. Here’s hoping you get some fantastic footage from this. Back to you Bob and Helen.”\n\nThe screen fades to black again and returns to the two hosts, “Who would have thought something like that would be possible Helen?”\n\n“You really have to hand it to the scientists, they know what they’re doing, and our show wouldn’t run without them.”\n\nBob returns the magician's hat under the table, and both he and Helen look directly at the screen, “Well, that wraps up the final segment of today’s live show. Tune in tomorrow to witness the incredible effects the orbiting frog will have on the survivors of this planet. Will the sudden eclipse bring war? Famine? Plague? Who knows?”\n\n“That’s right Bob, for all we know, the next episode may just be the season fifteen finale, as our survivors may not be, well, surviving anymore.”\n\nBoth of the hosts wave as the camera pans out, “Join us tomorrow, same time, same place, for Edges of Strife, available everywhere and anywhere.”\n\n-\n\nThe television returns to static as the transmission cuts off. Given the regular events of this show and its dubious morals, it’s no surprise there are so many attempts to get it off the air. \n\n~\n\nThank you for reading. If you have any comments or criticisms, please make them known. I am always trying to improve."
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[WP] A Private Investigator hired to solve a murder in a hotel discovers that all of the suspects are other P.I.’s
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Jules Bernard entered room number 352 of The Regency Hotel in an elegant navy blue suit. The door was already open, and a line of yellow tape surrounded the bed on all sides. In the bed lay a certain Mr. Goodman, drenched in blood. Bernard observed the body from behind the yellow tape. Multiple bullet wounds on the chest, all very close to the heart, the work of an amateur.\n\n\"I'm sorry sir, but you can't be here without permission,\" a police officer said.\n\nBernard produced his license from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. \"Private eye. Hired by Mrs. Julia Goodman. Survivor of, you know.\"\n\nThe officer studied the license and retreated to the kitchen. Moments later, Inspector Roseau appeared from that very kitchen.\n\n\"What do you want?\" The Inspector's voice was gruff.\n\n\"Suspects.\"\n\n\"What if I don't have any?\"\n\nBernard fiddled with the lapel of his suit, stood wider, and said, \"Nonsense. Even I got some, and I just arrived. Judging from all the tape you put around the place, you must've had a solid hour of poking around.\"\n\n\"There's nothing here. Except, well, him.\"\n\n\"I can see that. What do you think about Mr. Montblanc? The guy he did business with, not entirely legal, you know.\"\n\n\"You think a man like that wanders around the block in broad daylight. We've got our eye on him, thank you very much, but he's hard to pin down.\"\n\nBernard laughed. \"So, that's it? You are giving me nothing? You knew about Montblanc. You must know about Lupescu and the others too. Come on chief, give me something.\"\n\nInspector Roseau turned and looked towards the kitchen. His gaze shifted to the room and then to Bernard. \"It's a sensitive case. Can't tell anything to any private eye.\"\n\nBernard laughed again and rocked heel to toe once. \"And how many cases would you have solved without me? I want to play nice. I don't want to pull in old favors.\"\n\nA frown came across the Inspector's face. He sighed. \"Alright. But if any of this leaks, consider your future leads dead. Understood?\"\n\nBernard nodded.\n\nInspector Roseau turned and went into the kitchen again.\n\nMeanwhile, Bernard noticed something peculiar about the whole situation. The hit appeared to be done by an amateur, but there were no footprints in the room. When the Inspector returned, that was the first thing Bernard asked him about.\n\n\"It'll all make sense, in time,\" The Inspector said and dangled a little packet with evidence in it in front of Bernard's eyes. \"What do you see?\"\n\nIt was a black card with a monogrammed white hat on it. \"Unbelievable.\"\n\n\"Ah, so you've seen it. Worked in the underground much?\"\n\nBernard shrugged.\n\n\"Licenses aren't always easy to get.\""
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[WP] Sure, the dead might be rising, weekly earthquakes make life unsteady, and the nuclear fallout from your neighboring country is crossing your borders. But gosh darn it, in your little corner of paradise, there will be order! You are an HOA president during the apocalypse.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I stood atop the impromptu barricade of construction scaffolding and stacked cinderblocks that Ted had been keeping in his backyard. It was only a few feet tall but more than enough to stop any of those rats from the ghetto from sneaking in.\n\nThe sky was veiled, the smoke from the East End was mixing with the perpetual atomic haze moving west from Buffalo and Niagara. The resulting blanket smothered the moon and stars. Haze even drifted down to street level. Halos glowed around each of the torches and you could watch the beams of flashlights cut through the smoke. By midnight it was so thick you couldn't even see the bodies of the trespassers that were set out as warning for others.\n\nNight watch had become boring over the past few weeks. Virtually everyone else in town had died or been driven out by now. The only people left in town were us, the med students at the children's hospital, and the steel workers who managed to hold the industrial sector along the lake shore.\n\nMy watch read 4:48 when my replacement strolled up. His dark olive skin made him almost invisible in the dark if not for his bright white teeth \n\n\"You're late\" I said.\n\n\"No, I'm early. Shift change is at 5am by your own rule\" he replied with a smile, like he was outsmarting a teacher.\n\n\"I also said show up 15 minutes before the shift change for briefing\" as I jumped down to ground level.\n\n\"I'm so sorry I'm 3 minutes late, m'lor-\" he finished wheezing and doubled over with my fist in his gut.\n\n\"Is this a joke to you, Jacob?\" I asked. \"Because it isn't to me. We have mutant freaks downtown, the central mountain is filled with undead, and we have marauders raiding us from the farmland.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry sir\" Jacob wheezed.\n\n\"Don't be sorry, just don't be a dickhead.\" I said, resting a hand on his back as he caught his breath, \"You're here because I got everyone organized that first night. You're here because I kept everyone from fleeing into the hills or heading north into cottage country. Because I knew how to make a garden, because I knew how to make alcohol, because I had a garage full of potable water for us to drink that first week. You're here because I kept us from falling apart.\"\n\nJacob regained his composure and stood tall.\n\n\"So when I tell you to arrive 15 minutes before shift change so you can debrief the person before you and be briefed in turn, what are you going to do?\" I asked.\n\n\"I'm going to be here on time\" Jacob said in a hoarse voice.\n\n\"Very good, you're one of the good ones Jacob. You listen well, but have just enough chutzpah to make you useful in a fight.\" I said, patting him on the shoulder. \"But ever refer to me as your Lord without due respect and you will hang with the rest of them.\"\n\nHis face was white even in the orange glow of the lighter-fluid lanterns.\n\n\"I have taken my turns on watch until now because I need to make sure things are safe until I can find someone to hand them over to,\" I explained \"If you manage to get your shit together and get here on time, you'd make a fine Watch Captain. But that only happens after you learn respect.\"\n\nJacob nodded and climbed atop the scaffolding. Not much had happened that night, but the danger was constant and Jacob would need that fear to keep himself alive.\n\nIt was almost ten after by the time I managed to get away. I popped a few caffeine pills to keep me awake as I made our way to the motor pool we had working out of the local garage. A small floodlight provided a halo around the area to let us see what we were doing.\n\nOutside were a half-dozen men in steel armour painted black, armed with an assortment of firearms loading up a refurbished Ford Ranger with steel drums in the back.\n\n\"Is this all we have?\" I asked, looking at Logan. His stared daggers at me in response \"I suppose you wanted to keep this secret though, didn't you\"\n\nHe didn't smile at my joke, a fair response. He hadn't been particularly happy since we cut out his tongue. It was a brutal act, but he had been keeping his rat wife inside the walls. We have a no trespassing policy, he would have hung with her if he wasn't a suc a damn fine mechanic.\n\n\"What are we doing here?\" Nathan asked, checking the fluids in the truck. \"Aren't these trips usually done in the daylight, so we don't get ourselves killed? Surely the hospital can wait until morning for fresh water?\"\n\nThe disrespect made me clench my jaw. As if I would let myself get killed.\n\n\"We aren't doing a water run today, we are doing going to try and purge the remaining rats' nests while they're still sleeping like the lazy rodents they are.\" I explained.\n\n\"Didn't we already try this?\" Edward asked. \"I seem to remember we've done this a few times, they always come back. They know downtown better than us.\"\n\n\"Which is why we are going before dawn today, idiot. We want to find the rats in their home. We burned out those hippie gardens in the East End, but the rats still go to ground inside the city instead of fleeing.\" I explained, grabbing a map and marking several apartments where we had seen rooftop gardens from the mountain.\n\n\"Any time we have tried to drive their impurities out, they just come back and refortify. This is why we aren't giving them the opportunity tonight.\" I gestured to the barrels and the realization sunk in. \"They ran like rats from their sinking ships of a homeland, they won't infest our city.\"\n\n\"Those aren't water barrels, are they?\" Edward asked.\n\n\"No, they are not.\" I said \"Thanks to Logan and Ted, they will help take out those buildings and hopefully help contain some of the madness from inside the city so we can focus on the Raiders coming in from the farmland.\"\n\n\"You can't do this...\" Edward began. \"You're going to level 6 buildings? Each of those is over 10-storeys tall? There'll be dozens, hundreds in each one.\"\n\n\"And if I don't, they will be swarming up the mountain come winter. Their gardens are flourishing now, but that won't sustain them in the cold and where do you think they're going to come?\" I asked. \"They ruined their old countries, they ruined this country, they will ruin us as well. What alternative do we have? Do you want tk leave your home? You worked hard for your home, and you're just gonna abandon it to people who have never done a hard day's work in their life?\"\n\nThey stared blankly.\n\n\"That's what I thought, get in the fucking truck.\" I ordered.\n\nWe were inside and secure as Logan finished his final checks on the explosives in the back. We plotted a route down the Mountain and would put a barrel at the front door of each building. We had our plan and would cleanse the city within the morning.\n\nWe were outside the walls and far from the floodlights and torches of the compound by the time I noticed anything was amiss. We coasted down the access road to save fuel when I checked my mirrors and saw the orange flicker in the bed of the truck. I felt myself tense with the caffeine flooding my brain as I realized what it was.\n\n\"Something wrong?\" Nathan asked as my knuckles pressed white on the steering wheel.\n\n\"That rat-loving, mute motherf-\"\n\n[explosion noises]",
"Listen, I don't want to nag you and look I understand we have to burn the corpses before they return but could you do it later in the day. The winds blows that awful awful smell and it's really running my day. Also can you talk to Steve about cleaning up the debris in his yard. I know we have earthquakes on an almost daily basis but still that's no excuse. Tiffany! How many times have I told you. Dont touch that! It's radioactive! Also turn down your radio at night..I know we need to leave it on at all times but leaving it blaring is just plain rude. I hope to see you at our weekly meeting Wednesday. David is bringing an can of peaches and I am making meat pie. Of course I made sure it wasnt infected. Honestly you people complain about everything. Have an nice day!",
" Hello Residents of the Hockley Hill Subdivision:\n\nIt has come to our attention that while the world as we know it is ending, there has been some unauthorized deviations from our HOA charter that needs to be addressed immediately to ensure compliance. Rest assured, that while the world outside our little subdivision is falling apart, every effort is being taken to ensure that our little community continues to thrive and convey our members' desires for peace, quiet, and uniform presentation of our homes. \n\n\\- Trash service is still on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with Tuesdays being the recycling days and Thursdays being the heavy garbage days. Homeowners are encouraged to use the grey bins for recycling on Tuesdays and can also use the grey bins for removal of the undead on Thursdays. Please ensure that your cans are rinsed and crushed, and your undead have been rendered immobile. \n\n\\- Due to the need to ration water, we are implementing watering days. Effective July 1st, ODD addresses can water their lawns, starting at 6AM to 8AM. EVEN addresses can start on the next day from 6AM to 8AM. Anyone caught watering their lawns outside of the aforementioned times may be fined. If you need to wash entrails and blood from your vehicles, you are encouraged to park your vehicle in your yard and wash them there.\n\n\\- Please be advised that the lawn service has been discontinued due to the groundskeepers being overrun with undead. Homeowners are encouraged to work together to accomplish lawn care and are still being held responsible for the condition of their yards. If you see a groundskeeper approach your home, please lock the door and contact the HOA or our local police office for further instructions.\n\n\\- Don't forget about your four legged loved ones! Pets make easy prey for the undead, make sure to keep your pets safe. Do not leave pets outside unsupervised and if you have to leave your house, make sure your pets are on leashes. Animal control will remove any un-leashed and/or undead pets.\n\n\\- Household fortifications are still classified as home improvements and still require ARC approval. There have been several observed unapproved modifications of homes especially along the outer perimeter of the subdivision. We should strive to continue compliance with Section 14 of the charter. Earth tones and neutral colors are approved, use of bright colors or unapproved modifications are subject to fines and assessments. Barbed wire and concertina wire are currently a temporary allowance by the ARC, but you still must submit plans for approval prior to installation.\n\n\\- Interested in joining the community outreach program to help keep the undead at bay? Sign up at the HOA office today! Qualified applicants should be able to demonstrate mastery of improvised weapons (bow and arrow, axes, staff,) and competence with conventional small arms and long rifles (handgun, rifle, sniper rifle). \n\nRemember, while the rest of the world has gone to shit, we continue to strive to be the perfect little slice of heaven. Compliance with the HOA rules and guidelines are a condition of occupancy, any repeat offenders are subject to remediation up to and including eviction.\n\nWith Optimism for the future, \n\nThe Hockley Hill Housing Association (HHHA!)",
"“All in attendance?” \n\nA wave of moans spread across the rec center.\n\n“Good. I don’t know if you’ve all been paying attention. But that church across the river is trying to install new cemeteries. We can’t have this, folks.”\n\nThe crowd murmured in agreement.\n\n“Our neighborhood has a character we need to preserve, y’understand? These developers are trying to line our streets with cemeteries after cemeteries. Hell, in that new church, they’re starting to stack bodies densely up the building! We’re going to be sharing our space with a bunch of…” I crouched suddenly to pretend I was getting attacked. I continued, whispering, “Korean corpses. Now I shoot straight, I’m not gonna mince words. I love Korea, wherever that is, I love their food—their brains are mighty tasty—, but they just don’t understand how we do things here.” I banged my fist against the lectern for effect. “I don’t care if I get cancelled on Tweeter or whatever, it’s about protecting our way of life. You know what I’m talking about.” \n\nMore murmurs from the crowd.\n\n“Now it’s all fine and dandy if we all agree but what we need is not agreement… we need action. We’re gonna march on City Hall so those fatcats hear our voices. Let’s march!” \n\nThe murmurs swelled into loader moans once again. I knew just how to work the crowd.\n\nWe burst out the doors of the rec center and began our march down the street. The crowd winced as the shriek of a fighter jet passed over our heads. I spotted a small payload being released in the city center. A violent explosion followed shortly after, and within minutes, the skyline of the city was reduced to rubble. \n\nI chuckled as I turned to the crowd, “Serves them city-slickers right.” The crowd began to laugh along with me. I wiped a tear from my eyes. Something in the distance caught my eye. I squinted and realized another jet plane was heading directly towards us. The roar of the engines drowned out the crowd’s laughter.\n\nI chuckled one last time. “Well, shi-”",
"Berk had dredged the living-corpses out of the public pool earlier that morning, finagling them to the side with a pole like he was clearing out rotten leaves. He’d laid them on sun loungers around the side, figuring: a) they’d be grateful for something to watch, b) that they just looked neater that way.\n\nThe pool was about three-quarters full after a week-long rad-storm ravaged the neighbourhood. A single rust red water chute curled like a tongue from a high platform on the pool’s left side. The original ladder leading to it was long gone so Berk replaced it a few days ago with plastic piping, wood, and nails. Bit by bit, paradise would be rebuilt. He’d see to that.\n\n“There’s so much water, Grandpa,” Sich said, voice deepened by her respirator so that it sounded almost adult.\n\nHe limped over to the edge of the pool and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Happy birthday.”\n\n“Thanks… But uh, what exactly is it? A bath?”\n\nHe smiled beneath his mask. “It’s a swimming pool. A place to have fun and splash around. And it’s the first step towards brining this town back to order.”\n\nShe nodded but didn’t say anything.\n\n“I used to come here when I was your age. Lot of the neighbourhood kids did. Only place to cool off in the summer.”\n\nIt’d taken him the week of the rad-storm to decide the clean-up would start here. And he would clean up. After all, he was — by inheritance — in charge of the town. The mayor, the head, everything. Rebuilding was his responsibility.\n\n”Yeah?”\n\n“Yeah. I took your mom here when she was a kid. Only fair I took you now, eh?”\n\nThe pool had been less murky back then. More chlorine and urine, less mud. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad trade. Mostly it was rainwater and either way, as long as she kept the mask on, she’d be fine. Water wouldn’t get inside it.\n\n“So I just jump in?”\n\n“You could. Or you could slide in — which, I think, would be a lot more fun.” He nodded at the tower, at the red tongue still salivating from the night’s rain. “And stick to that half of the pool — it’s shallow there and you’ll be alright on tiptoes.”\n\nShe looked at the tower. Then at the murky water.\n\nHe could see Sich didn’t want to go in. Couldn’t blame her for that — it wasn’t even a warm day. But this was her connection to his life. And god dammit he’d worked hard preparing this gift for her, for one of the very last residents. For one of the precious few loved ones he had left.\n\nIt hadn’t been easy, either. At one point, he’d fallen next to a body he’d been dragging and struggled to get up again. But seeing this place alive again… Seeing Sich fully alive…\n\n“It’d make an old man happy,” he said, unfairly.\n\n”Is it safe?”\n\n”The slide? I built the ladder so I know that is. And I gave the whole damn structure a decent enough shake that an earthquake’d be proud.” He sighed. “Listen, do it once, and if it’s no fun, no problem, we’ll go back to Bunker. Okay?”\n\nShe nodded.\n\nGood kid. Great kid, even. Yep, this was the place to start rebuilding. Berk turned and walked away.\n\n”Where are you going?” Sich asked, kitten-nervous.\n\n”Only right there, to lie on a lounger. I’m old and my leg hurts.”\n\n“Next to the zombies?”\n\n“They’re not zombies. Where’d you hear that word? They’re people. We’re not to use that term.”\n\n”They should be buried,” Sich said. “Mom says they all deserve the kind of ending Grandma was given.”\n\nThat memory stung like a hornet. Funny how clear her death was but how misty her life had become. “Grandma was dead when we buried her. These, not so much.”\n\nSich looked around the pool. “They sure look dead.”\n\n”Well, if I ever look dead in the way they do, do me a favor and leave me on a lounger. Do not bury me, thank you very much.” He touched his mask as if to check it was still on.\n\n“I don’t like them,” she said.\n\nThen she walked—solemnly, he thought—towards the slide. As if it wasn’t water waiting in the pit below, but the flames of hell.\n\nHe put himself down on a creaking lounger. Two wrinkled bodies lay on recliners either side of him, thin, bald and pitiful. Decrepit. What a state to be in. How long had it been? Thirty-six years? No, seven. That’s when it leaked into the air, into the breeze. Like an oil spill, except there was no closing your mouth or getting out of the water.\n\nSich climbed the ladder, slowly, not quite trusting the pipe-rungs.\n\nBack then, he’d been expecting the soviets to drop a bomb. But this had all been America’s doing, their own chemicals leaking. Filled the air, then filled their lungs. People became these things, still alive, but trapped inside themselves, senses still running. Could see, smell, hear. The two next to him must have spent thirty-seven years lying face down in a pool, rising and falling with the ebbing water. He couldn’t think of anything worse.\n\nWhen you become utterly feeble, unable to even move, death becomes a dignity you beg for.\n\nSich screamed as she sailed down the slide. Then slipped into the shallow water, laughter splashing into the air.\n\nHe watched her climb out of the pool. Waved. She gave him a thumbs up then traipsed back towards the slide for another run.\n\nThis wasn’t going as he’d hoped. He’d thought watching her would bring back memories of good times. But instead his mind crashed like waves against that first night.\n\nIt’d been dumb luck they’d survived. A faulty siren triggered earlier that evening — the neighbourhood panicked thinking the bomb was finally falling. Berk’d rushed his family and neighbours into his bunker. Air was clean. Food stockpiled diligently years prior.\n\nThen came the news on the radio.\n\nSo began his second life. Or his slow death. He still wasn’t certain which.\n\nHe looked at the living-corpse to his left. “I’d help you if I could,” he said. He meant it, too. There was nothing worse than what had happened to them. But bullets couldn’t free them; the wounds just congealed over. He’d incinerated a few in the past, but petrol was too precious to keep on spending. And truth was, they were everywhere. He drove to a proper city once, just to look. *God*. Came back and never said a word to anyone.\n\nAnother thrilled scream. Another thumbs up. A trot to the ladder.\n\nSomething gray stained that blue skinned belly to his left. He sat up and leaned closer. Letters. Maybe the lady had been sleeping with a book on her stomach when it happened. Now that book was dust but the words of the page had tattooed themselves into her.\n\n\\*In dark we shal be l\\*\n\nLost? Lit? Led?\n\nCreeds could go either way. Good and bad. He used to have his own: no matter what happens, stay alive. Living is all that matters. But as he gradually turned into a living-corpse himself, sans poisoned air, his belief changed. Now maybe it was closer to: Grow old, but not too—\n\nThe world trembled and everything changed. A crack and snap from the water chute. A child’s scream, deepened to a moan by a respirator."
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[WP] Turkey finds itself in a crisis. The city of Istanbul has been completely occupied by millions of history nerds from around the world. Their demands? The restoration of Byzantium.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"It started as a trickle, then a flood, and then a tsunami. Istanbul, a city of fifteen million, was inundated by a mass of humanity. In this day and age of political instability, it was neither refugees nor soldiers that overtook the city, it was... *nerds.* The origins of this flood of history enthusiasts remains heavily debated. Some trace it back to underground movements fueled by the Russian and Greek governments, others to the darkest corners of the internet. Whatever the cause, the effect was clear– seven million history nerds overtook the city in a handful of weeks.\n\nThe crowd was vast and diverse, coming from everywhere from Seattle to Osaka and from Trondheim to Sydney. They settled in for the long haul, occupying parks and public parking sites, filling up hotels beyond capacity and completely overwhelming Airbnb, bringing the site down. At first, no one was certain why this was happening, and then, one afternoon came the march.\n\nEstimates range from one to one-point-seven million people came marching down the Macar Kardeşler Caddesi to the Istanbul Metropolitan Municipal City Hall, carrying massive banners of red and gold, the tetragrammic cross of the Palaiologos dynasty of Byzantium. There were chants, as well. *\"Nenikikamen!\",* some yelled, while others cried out *\"Basileus Basileon, Basileuon Basileuonton!\"* Some in the crowd simply screamed one word–\n\n*BYZANTIUM!*\n\nIn a single moment, it was painfully clear what was happening. Police barricades were erected around city hall, and the Turkish president declared a state of emergency, preparing to storm the occupied city. Meanwhile, a young woman emerged from the crowd carrying a letter written first in an archaic dialect of Greek, then in modern Turkish, and lastly, in english.\n\n*To the occupying government of Constantinople,* \n*We, the loyal patriots of Byzantium, level this formal demand for the unlawful Turkish occupation of the Empire to end, and for our capital city to be returned to Byzantine authority. We will accept no compromise, nor be mollified. Return to us our Nova Roma.*\n\nThe initial response was laughter. The second was sheer terror. After several hours without word, the crowd, which initially had held back from the barricade, began to march forward. Unarmed but for flags and cries for the restoration of the Empire, there was a moment when the world watched and wondered if they were about to witness a massacre in the streets of Istanbul. After a few tense seconds, the armed police saw no chance at their survival but to step aside. Calmly, they proceeded into the building, gently escorting out the workers and members of the city government inside. Soon after, the Turkish banners were removed from the building's façade and a massive tetragram flag was hung in their place.\n\nIn a day, and without a shot fired, Istanbul fell.\n\nThe international response was utter confusion. Tensions inside the Aegean, already sky high due to disputed claims in the region, reached a boiling point as the Turkish and Greek navies came into a standoff in the waters around Rhodes. Ankara flatly blamed Athens for the events in Istanbul, accusing them of attempting to stir instability in Turkey as a means of forcing their withdrawal from the Aegean. \n\nThe Greeks would publicly deny this, and issue a full-throat denouncement of what it referred to as *\"Megali Idea revanchists\",* whilst internal emails and communications would show celebration at the sudden turn of events that had paralyzed their longtime adversaries. Some even dared to wonder, in little more than whispers on the floor of the Hellenic Parliament and in the halls of Greek command centers, if Constantinople would not *finally* be returned to them by the end of it. \n\nEven worse, the sudden paralysis of the Bosporus and Dardanelles had sent massive economic ripples, particularly for Russia, whose Black Sea ports were cut off from the world with the closure of the Sea of Marmara. \n\nMeanwhile, claimants to the Byzantine throne came out of the woodwork. Several members of the Cantacuzino family, the only surviving lineage of direct descent of the Byzantine Empire, put forward their names, as did Louis Alphonse de Borbon, alleging that the French throne's purchase of the claim from Andreas Palailogos gave him the right to claim it. Pavlos, Crown Prince of Greece, also struck up a claim, along with Maria Vladimirovna Romanov, alleging that the Byzantine claim of her ancestors trumped all others. \n\nIn response, the new interim government of Constantinople declared a regency council which would evaluate the claims of everyone before electing a new Emperor or Empress. Meanwhile, as many Turks fled the city, others still, mostly belonging to factions opposed to the increasingly authoritarian rule of President Erdogan, flooded *in,* eager to cosign this new experiment. \n\nUnrest in Turkish Kurdistan began to explode as well. With the focus of the nation to the west, the southeastern provinces soon began a scramble to declare their own nation. Within days, Turkey, widely seen as the bedrock of stability in the Middle East, was brought to its very knees.\n\nThree weeks into the self-declared Byzantine Restoration, the same young woman who had presented the demands of the army of nerds that took a city emerged from the Hagia Sophia before a cheering crowd of millions to deliver the news–\n\nSomeone had been elected to the Byzantine throne."
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[WP] You have spent the last several thousand years trapped in a cell at the bottom of an old temple built by a long forgotten city-state, alone; so it's a surprise when a team of explorers accidentally dig into the chamber.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"it was a blue morning. guards were getting out of their rooms for the shift change. the good looking guard at the tower closest to mine was climbing down and did a few pullups on the last rung of the ladder before taking a piss a few meters away from where i was hiding. as per routine he took off his clothes and took a plunge into the lake for his morning bath. i wait for the perfect moment and take his metal helmet and chestplate to complete my disguise.it is a lazy morning and the guards pay no attention to me. i cant believe this worked!how could it have been as simple i had dreamed. surely someone will raise alarm. \ni make my way to the preists cabin and his daughter hands me the keys. we are so close. she hands me a glass of milk but i am too worried to be thirsty right now. now is not the time for refreshments. now is the time to loot.leaving the priests quarters was trickier than i expected. priests are generally morning people and as despicable that is, it means that the people around them are morning people too. that means that apart from acting like this is my daily routing i also have to make conversations.i make it to the chambers of many rooms and this is where things get tricky. there are many rooms on this floor and only one of them have the real gold ornaments and the inheritance of the priests entire lineage. who knew that priests are secretly blasphemous like that. i wouldnt desecrate my prayer room with old gold wire underwears and and all that.to enter the right room out of the 14 odd rooms in this hall is tricky. i dont know what is behind the other doors. my sweetheart dont know, only the priest know. so i get all my weapons and tools ready and take a deep breath and try my luck at the door at the end of the hall. i push open the door just a wee bit and take A sneak peek with stick and a mirror and a lamp. whatever is at the other side of that door is surely inanimate since the room is so cold. it seems like there is giant necklace fitting of a grand statue. but i cant be sure if there are any traps. there is a ventilation here so there must be a way out too. thankfully i have packed for many nights. i close the door behind me and begin to break down the necklace.my sweetheart comes down in a few minutes and kisses me goodnight and this is the first of my 14 days of loot. i plan to break down the riches and smuggle little by little out through my sweetheart and if suspicion arises she will simply stop coming here and i have to survive with what little i have. its tough but atleast its a plan. most thieves would do anything to avoid being patient.in 3 days i was able to break the 2 meter gold ornament for the giant stone deity, only to be used on the day it is to be worshipped. until then it wears the bronze fake ornament.\nday 5 and she has stopped coming down so i continue breaking the gold chains and start cutting the gold from the stone deity.",
"*You split the walls of ten-thick stone and pierced the dark with the first sunlight I had seen in centuries. I heard you call to each other.*\n\n“Hey Mike, come take a look at this.”\n\n“The fuck is it now? Why you-...stopping. What is this place?”\n\n*I listened to your voices and puzzled out the sound of your tongues. How strange. My ears had forgotten.*\n\n*Soon enough, the two of you crossed the threshold. You sparked your crimson torches, only to toss them down about the room, flaring like devil’s candles. I didn’t need them, but the wasteful don’t survive as long as I have.*\n\n“No way, Mike, check it out! There’s a mummy over here.”\n\n“They don’t got mummies in Queens, dumbass. That’s just a dead guy.”\n\n“Whatever man, it’s a old raisiny dead motherfucker. Look it’s got bandages and shit.”\n\n“Hey. Don’t touch, alright. Dead bodies got germs.”\n\n“Pshhh the fuck you talkin bout? This guys been dead so long even his germs are dead.”\n\n“Oh, I’m sorry *doctor Nicky*, what med school did you go to again? Come on, this place just keeps going. This way.”\n\n“Ok, ok, I’m right behind ya, one second.”\n\n*One of you lingered near me. I hadn’t moved for so long. I hadn’t needed to. I tried to remember how...*\n\n. . . \n\n“Nicky, come on! What are you-...Jesus, fuck. Nicky, what are you doing? You can’t burn a dead body just cuz you found it. Get that flare out it’s face.”\n\n*I hadn’t been able to move into him. I was too slow, after sleeping so long. It had been a struggle just to kill him. I turned to the other one. Mike. I saw his expression change from disgust to terror as he saw me clearly. He would do.*\n\n. . .\n\n“Hey Mike, what’s the hold up down there? You and Nicky fall asleep? Mike?”\n\n*I’m much faster in Mike’s body. My thoughts are coming faster now too. This new one struggles but I pin him to the wall by his throat. I am strong again. I could kill him, but he smells healthier than Mike. I don’t need to move into him, but the wasteful don’t survive as long as I have...*",
"Cronos slumbered in the deep, unbothered by Time. To Him, an aeon was as the breadth of an eyelash and a second might span the Universe, so He was somewhat disoriented when a loud crumbling of stone and a slight cave-in echoed through His ceremonial chamber. Several ant-like man things scrambled in through a *hole* in the sacred stone.\n\nHis contemplations falling in ruins about Him, Cronos pierced the first of the man things with an inscrutable eternal Eye. \"I beg your pardon,\" He rumbled. \"This is a private party.\"\n\nThe man things froze, staring up at the Idol of Cronos, the long-lost and storied object of a thousand futile expeditions. They had come upon it at last. An awkward silence prevailed as the Idol bent Its monstrous head down to glare at each of them personally.\n\n\"Erm. We beg your pardon?\" choked the leader of the expedition. The sudden movement of the Idol had come as an unpleasant surprise.\n\n\"You are not excused,\" the Idol thundered. \"Do you think I live in a thousand foot Pit beyond all reaches of Time in order that a load of tiny delving idiots may crash into my sacred contemplations? Eh?\"\n\n\"We're terribly sorry--\" another adventurer began, only to fall silent as the Eye of Cronos turned balefully upon him. \n\n\"Sorry? Sorry?\" The Idol squinted at the man things. It nearly gnashed Its teeth in frustration. \"Puny man things, I will have you know that I am the God of Trackless Time and I *resent the intrusion.\"*\n\n\"But--but--\" stammered the expeditioners. \n\n\"Remove yourselves from my Sight,\" commanded Cronos, turning Its ponderous back on the party.\n\nThe expeditioners hesitated. Cronos cleared Its throat mightily, causing them all to jump and scamper back into the tunnel whence they had come.\n\nCronos stuffed a boulder irritably into the opening. \n\n\"Damn,\" he griped. \"Where was I?\"\n\nThe Eye of Cronos closed slowly as the God of Trackless Time drifted back into peaceful meditation.",
"I didn't know anything but the sight of darkness and the feeling of stone. Hunger, thirst and insanity were as familiar to me as the bricks lining the walls. One thousand two hundred and forty one of them. Each given names. Each name forgotten. Each cycle repeated thousands of times. I was a part of this room, and in a sense, this room was a part of me.\n\nBut I hadn't heard that noise before.\n\nIt was muffled and somewhat rhythmic. A similar sound to my ring hitting the ground. And it was getting louder. So loud... I couldn't remember hearing anything but the quiet noise of my feet against the bricks.\n\nAnd then there was the blinding light.\n\nAt first, a small sliver. But it grew, and the bricks around it started crumbling, letting more of it in. All I could do was shield my eyes.\n\n\"Goodness! Who are you? Are you okay?\"\n\nIt was a familiar sound. I thought it was related to me somehow, perhaps from a time I couldn't remember. I tried to respond in kind, but there was nothing.\n\n\"Don't worry! We'll get you out in a jiffy!\"\n\nWhatever it was sounded worried, and the rhythmic clang quickened. It was only when I covered my ears that I got a view of the creature. It had the same shape as me, but its hair was shorter, and it was covered in a variety of mysterious material. It was holding two objects, one a weapon of sorts that produced that deafening sound, and the other producing that blinding light.\n\nAnd then I saw my hand. My arms. My legs and feet huddled close to my body. This was me. And this creature was like me, albeit less pale.\n\n\"How'd you even get trapped in here in the first place?\" another voice asked. It sounded higher-pitched than the first.\n\nTrapped... Imprisoned... A vague memory started appearing in my mind. Not about the bricks in this room, or about dropping my ring and finding it in the dark. A memory from a time before.\n\n\"Who would leave a beauty like you in here?\" the first voice asked.\n\nThe memory became clearer. Faces... angry ones. Stone scraping against my legs and knees. The sound of screaming, and cheering. And a name...\n\nThe first figure crawled through the opening. They approached me and extended their hand, giving a much friendlier face than the ones in the deep corners of my mind. I gingerly touched their hand, and they quickly pulled me up. With a flash of confidence, they told me, \"Don't worry, we'll help you escape.\"\n\nEscape... There was a reason I was here, and a reason I couldn't leave. I just needed to put the puzzle pieces together.\n\nThe second figure pulled the first one back into the hole they created. I reached out my hand towards them, and I was pulled up as well. I looked towards the corridor before me, bathed in dim light from the instrument the first one was holding. It was familiar to me somehow, despite being outside the room I had been trapped in for so long. And it gave me fear. I felt like something bad would happen if I continued through it.\n\nAnd then I remembered.\n\n\\--==+==--\n\nThe mysterious girl screamed. The sudden noise was deafening, and when I got my wits about me, the girl had started begging us to stop saving her! Why would anyone *want* to be trapped in a room 50 feet underground?\n\n\"Stop screaming! What's wrong?!\" my colleague asked her. She was always much quicker on the draw when it came to these sorts of things.\n\nAnd what came next was the most outlandish story I had ever heard. This girl had apparently betrayed the ancient Greek Gods in some way, and as retribution, they had given her immortality, but trapped her in this chamber for eternity. And to prevent escape, they would exact a number of curses on mankind if she ever left.\n\nIt only took one look between me and my colleague to determine that this girl wasn't in her right mind. Whether due to starvation, thirst, or something else, she had gone completely insane. But, my partner continued trying to calm her down:\n\n\"Stop! Calm down! ...What did you say your name was?\"\n\nAlthough she was sobbing, the girl said her name clearly enough to be heard by the both of us.\n\n\"Pandora? That's an interesting name.\" I remarked. My colleague took a moment to think, before looking at me.\n\n\"You think she's referring to that old myth? Pandora's Box?\"\n\nI merely shrugged. \"That's probably the best bet, but she's got the story all wrong. She probably just went crazy. Let's get her to a hospital.\"\n\nMy partner nodded solemnly, and while the mysterious girl screamed, insisting that she was right, we just dragged her down the corridor. We hoped that she'd eventually be okay.",
"Zaclas was dead, he thought. That had been his last thought. It's wasn't a stupid thought. He'd been deprived from sight, no light in the room, not one strand. There was no air either, he couldn't hear his own voice; couldn't hear his fingers gouging into his chest. A hundred years ago he'd stopped hearing his thoughts. He felt nothing either, but that wasn't the room, that was his curse. \n\nThe ancient people had stuck him here to escape his madness. He'd followed because they promised him death. They lied. They did not give him death, but the abss. The never ending darkness.\n\nBut then it ended. \n\nIt began with a sound. A loud crack, a snap, cogs turning. Then he saw colour, orange and yellow bouncing against the walls, fire from a torch. The light in the room turned on, just like when he'd entered it. He saw the dried blood on the ground. He could smell it. He'd thrown up, if he had any food in his stomach. The adventurers did not have this problem. \n\n\"Ohh that's disgusting,\" a light voice said.\n\n\"What the fuck?\" A deep voice said, and the door swung open. Zaclas made saw three pairs of eyes. Two belonging to men, one to a woman. Zaclas was shocked.\n\n\"Is that a person?\" The woman asked. \n\"What the fuck?\" One of the men said, \"who are you?\" \n\nZaclas would have covered his ears if he'd felt pain. Would have covered his naked genitals if he had shame. Would have felt happy if he had joy. Then again, he'd be dead if not for the curse. But he'd like that.\n\n\"I am, I... I am. I don't remember,\" he said, having forgotten his name. He'd forgotten everything about himself, from his face to how many fingers he had. \n\n\"How long have you been here?\" the man asked, his face tense from the smell. \n\n\n\"I don't know. More than 10 years. I think.\" \n\n\n\"You've been here for te...\" \n\n\n\"Let's just kill him,\" the other, shorter, man said. \"There's no point talking to him.\" \n\n\nBefore Zaclas knew it. There was a dagger stuck in his throat. The assassin twisted the knife, and jerked it out. Red blood ran down his chest, The assasin turned around and walked away. Cool guys don't look at explosions, for him translated into, cool assassins don't look at death.\n\n\"You're quick,\" Zaclas said, and the assassin froze. He jerked his head back, and saw no blood.\n\n\"Who are you?\" He muttured.\n\n\"Wait I think I know who he is,\" the woman said, \"look at that tatto on his torso. Could this possibly be, Zaclas the mad king?\" \n\n\"Yeah, that's my name,\" Zaclas said, like a dog finally seeing its owner. \n\n\"That's... James come back here.\"\n\n\"Why, who's is he?\" \n\n\"James!\" She urged, \"Don't you know the song?\"\n\n\"Nope.\" \n\n\n*Zaclas, Zaclas met a girl named Alice* \n\n*Alice, Alice, had a curse for Zaclas*\n\n*She made the dealings*\n\n*He lost his feelings*\n\n*Zaclas, Zaclas got a bit mad*\n\n*Wanted to turn it all back*\n\n*Desperate to have a feeling*\n\n*He killed, murdered, and slaughtered*\n\n*Raped, stole, and pillaged.*\n\n*A group of priests devised a plan to stop him.* \n\n*They lured him down.* \n\n*Showed him around* \n\n*And trapped him in the ground*\n\n*Zaclas, Zaclas, stuck in the ground*\n\n*Zaclas Zaclas a man gone mad.*",
"Throughout the eons I could feel the earth shift and settle above me. I could envision civilizations rising and falling, forests growing and teeming only to be cut down and trampled to make way for man. I could imagine the erosion of the land, the floods, the earthquakes that all play a part in changing the landscapes many hundreds of feet above me.\n\nBut I could not see it.\n\nThe eons had not been kind on my body. It used to be human, after all. I feared the day I would be discovered. When light finally shines on me. Would it be blinding? Would the air above be too full, to enriched for these lungs to handle?\n\nI shook the fantasy away.\n\nNo one would find me. And unless the magic of this cell fades, I would be here forever. Unable to leave, unable to die.\n\nI recalled the makers of this cell. The monks. The temple guardians. It was punishment. A sentence fit for someone of my evil. An eternity of life. But without anything to fill it with but boredom. \n\nUnceasing, mindnumbing boredom.\n\nI had outlived them all. I had outlived my morals of that time. In an attempt to stave off true insanity my mind had warped my entire reality into one I could I could not easily tire of.\n\nI was a many faced god. Entire personalities inhabited my limitless mind. Memory was a fallacy. Maybe it was not monks who had imprisoned me. Maybe I was their god, and they betrayed me. Maybe I willingly placed myself here of my own accord. Who was to say?\n\nEach day, each hour, each minute, my personality shifted, changed. It did not make the time go by faster, but it filled it with something other than emptiness.\n\nAnd then I heard it. Not the usual cacophony of noises of my mind's own making that I convinced myself existed outside, but actual sound. Like rain. Except lower pitched, and it made the cell vibrate.\n\nAnother earthquake? Was the aspect of me in charge of the stone doing this? To admonish me? No. That could not be.\n\nFor the next few hours or days or months or years, the sound continued at erratic intervals. Sometimes lasting longer than others. The only constant was it was getting louder.\n\nUntil one day I felt something descend upon me. Dust? Cobwebs? I coughed as I looked up.\n\nWhat was happening? Why was this earthquake persistent? Why would the stone aspect of me not let up? Was it jealous of this darkness?\n\nI heard several knocks on the stone, followed by odd chittering.\n\nNo, not chittering.\n\nTalking.\n\nPeople.\n\nJust as I had thought that light filled the cell I was in, followed by cold air. I gasped, and the alien air penetrated my lungs and I closed my eyes shut. Yet, yet I could *feel* it. The light. Hitting my body, revealing me. enveloping me.\n\nThe many faced god that was me had finally acquired a new face. Not of stone nor darkness nor breath nor touch. But of light. And my mind immediately formed a personality for the light.\n\nMy light. My hope. This was my reward. My escape. My punishment was over. I could see the light of day again. Bask in the sun. Feel the grass beneath my feet. Smell the chickens in their coop. Hear them as they clucked.\n\nBut the only sound at the cell at that moment was panicked shouting and voices in a language I could not understand. I could see a strange shape descending from the ceiling, small, unfamiliar. And then I heard a bloodcurdling scream.\n\n[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]\n\n\"A corpse?\" The anthropologist asked, breathing heavily. He was not cut out for this kind of tunneling. But he still wanted to be part of the team that would do the actual mining and uncovering. A misguided endeavour, but he pulled his weight.\n\n\"That's not what he said. He said it moved.\" The miner grumbled.\n\n\"Who said?\"\n\n\"Skorvach. The guy from your expedition who's so intent to make sure he brushes off the dust on the wall every few feet of mining.\" \n\n\"He's a fearful boy. Imaginative. But very thorough. If we found another room in this temple then we would need to proceed with caution. A camera first. Get a feel for the composition of the air inside, the artefacts. See if introducing foreign air—\"\n\n\"Yeah, we know how it goes.\" The miner grumbled, heading back to the opening on the floor, shining a light through. Skorvach stood beside him, and asked if he could see anything. But the miner could only make out the empy space of a room, nothing else.\n\n\"There is a man. He did move. I don't know if the pressure offset was the reason or.. Or.. something else?\" The younger man would probably be wringing his hands if he was not carrying sensor equipment.\n\n\"Let's lower it in. Let's take a look at what you saw.\" The miner turned on the camera's Infrared and lowered it through the opening. It dropped a few feet, and Skorvsach let out a bloodcurdling scream.\n\nThe anthropologist rushed forward, and the three men looked at the screen as more people from the expedition joined them, trying to see what had happened.\n\nThere was indeed a man. Ghostly. Emancipated. Pale. Thin. In the infrared greys his eyes glowed a piercing white as they stared at the camera, and then looked up in shock at the sound of the scream.\n\n[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]\n\nIt took a few days, but the Subterranean Man, or as the news outlets shorthanded it, Subter Man, finally got out. A man whose clothes carbon dated him to even before the time of the pharaohs. \n\nHe spoke a dead language, understood nothing, was fearful of everything. No one knew how to approach this man lost in time. No one knew how to placate him as they tested him for any pathogens, as they studied why he had lived.\n\nBut one day they found him naked on a field, lying down on his back as he looked at the sky, smiling. And the next day they discovered him dead, a knife embedded into his ribs. He did it to himself, they later found out.\n\nThe subterranean man had completed his sentence of life, and with one final enjoyment of what it had to offer, he finally claimed what he had been robbed of.",
"Voices, faint voices disturbed my eternal stupor.\n\nI had heard the muffled sounds of rock scraping rock, of dirt being moved and other signs of my possible freedom many times before, each time, they stopped as suddenly as they began. Sometimes, I heard the sounds of rock being replaced. I don't know if those were real or my imagination. I don't know that time is any more. I've been here, in my prison for a time that I cannot calculate. \n\nI was told I would be immortal after the curse was placed upon me. I remember laughing and telling the priests that was no curse and I would see them all turn to dust. However, immortality granted by their spell, also gave me weaknesses I was not prepared for. They used those weaknesses to bind me, and bury me in the temple. A temple I had commanded others to erect to be my monument of my reign over all the lands. It was a cruel joke they played. They built this cell right under my nose, and I didn't realize it until it was way too late.\n\nThe first days were the worst. Fear, loneliness, thirst, hunger, then the voices I heard that were not there, the sounds of a world outside that one day rose to a cacophony that shook the ground, then, nothing. I feared I had gone deaf, but that was not the case, it was just silence. The silence was almost a comfort. Perhaps I had died and this was my afterlife. An afterlife of nothing, no power, no glory, no semblance of life.\n\nVoices again, more scraping, more digging. I didn't understand the language. It was a harsh guttural sound, something that didn't seem like it could be language, but the call and response could only mean one thing, I was closer to freedom. Me from the start of my imprisonment would have relished the thought of revenge on those who had put me here, but I realized they were probably long since perished. Thousands upon thousands of years had passed, at a minimum. \n\nMore voices, the pitch raised from a lower one to a more, shrill, excited pitch, like when prey is on the verge of being caught and tried to evade by crying out. Maybe this was my time for release. Part of me somehow found a lost hope of freedom from my bonds, while other parts of my brain believed this couldn't actually be true, it had been too long. This was a trick, it couldn't *BE* real, could it?\n\nMy eyes searched the darkness for any sign of cracks in my prison walls. It was still perfectly dark, no light, no hope. Yet, the sounds grew louder. Initially, it was a whisper, now, it was the sound of a hushed conversation, muted by the rock and dirt of my tomb. But I heard it. I did hear it, right?\n\n\"I'm in here! I'm in HERE!\", I cried out using a voice that had not been used in centuries or maybe hours, who knows. In the Dark of my tomb, time was a tricky thing. It has been lying to me since the last ray of light was extinguished with the final stone in place. My voice sounded impossibly loud, and harsh. I reached out and struck the confinement circle which shuddered with the energy still held within it granted by the spell of containment. A silent jolt ran through my body from the ancient power. Immortal doesn't mean immune to pain. I was reminded again. \n\nThen, the noises stopped.\n\nI wept, crying out now over and over, yet the sound was no more.\n\nI then heard the sounds of digging again. Had they just stopped for the night? Had it been a night? Only a night? That night seemed as long as the forever before it. This place, the dark and isolation did cruel things to our minds.\n\nSomething changed, my eyes searched and searched the area where I believed the sound to be coming from. Where is it? Then there was. the briefest moment of a flash of light. I know it, because it was brought on by movement of rock, dirt and stones that shifted, then went back into place.\n\n\"I'M HERE!!! I'M IN HERE!!! PLEASE RELEASE ME!\" I screamed out. \n\nMy cries caused so many cries from the other side of the rock. I could tell it was excited speech, even if I didn't know the words being spoken.\n\nI saw it again, a light. A tiny pinpoint of light appeared above me. The light lowered down like magic illuminating my chamber. It circled around the room and settled in front of my face. Then a voice rang out from it.\n\n\"*Who are you? How are you alive down here*?\"\n\nI didn't understand the language, the end of the words raised in pitch so it had to be a question. Did they not know? Was I happened upon?\n\n\"I am Zartog, the grand priest of all you see and ever will see, I was imprisoned by jealous underlings who wished to rule instead of me. Release me so I might have my revenge on their families, and children's children's children.\" I paused, \"I am begging you to be real and not another trick of my mind.\"\n\n\"*Language recognition circuits processing, please wait as phonemes are calculated.*\"\n\n<This is part one...>",
"Fran could hear the argument from down the passage. Mick's voice was high, blistering with emotion while Eric's baritone rumble gave a tempering undertone. Fran stooped, and began to duck walk down the passage pulling her satchel through the loose dirt behind her. They were underneath the passage proper, having been forced to dig beneath the foundation of it to get through. There was a lever-loaded release *somewhere* in the ornate carvings of that passage which their engineer judged would open the ceiling and bury the structure in sand. So, they'd cut out a section of the ceiling and dug beneath it. She saw the flickering light around the corner and pushed herself through. The room was small, cylindrical, etched with an unique cuneiform alphabet. On the floor was a round stone- no, not stone, she realized; bands of rust etched the object! It was a huge piece of slag iron roughly formed and etched with still more of the archaic forms. It had been moved a scant few inches over, revealing the black mouth of an oubliette. Mick was curled beside it, Eric crouched over him toweling his head.\n\n\"I'm *not* fucking crazy. I told you, I saw what I saw and you need...\" Mick had not calmed down.\n\n\"No one is saying you're crazy, I just think it was a...\"\n\n\"Say it again! Say 'trick of the light' one more time.\" Fran broke in at this.\n\n\"Tell me what you saw, Mick. No one here thinks you're crazy. There has been a lot of weird shit going on and I need to hear it...\" She sat beside him, putting an arm around him. \"...in your words.\" She shot a concerned look at Eric, his face sallow, eyes hollowed by the flickering light.\n\nWeird shit was an understatement. This was supposed to be a routine excavation of a minor burial casque. Fifteen caskets had been warehoused in the tiny stone chamber, three times the norm, and all fairly high-caste masons, slave drivers and priests. While hauling up the caskets a local man had begun screaming, and pulling bricks out of the wall. The other men had said he wasn't even speaking coherently. Once he'd been removed, workers felt a gentle breeze from the hole he'd created. Three weeks of ever so gentle work revealed the entrance to a hidden complex spiraling down into the earth. intricate and illegible text covered the walls and it was rife with danger. A section of the structure crumbled when they entered, narrowly missing some excavators. Someone cut themselves on a hidden spike, went wild, foamed at the mouth and began to have a seizure forty meters underground. The team that broke into the passage above nearly triggered the trap, burying themselves. So, she was very interested in what Mick had to say.\n\n\"There's a person in there!\" He suddenly grabbed Fran and pulled her nose-to-nose with him. \"An *alive* person! They looked at me, Fran, I saw them turn their head! I *saw* it!\" They were rational people, down here, six degrees between them. She shared a private glance with Eric, who looked genuinely unnerved. Fran took a cleansing breath. \n\n\"I believe you, Mick, I do. We're going to open this thing and we're going to get to the bottom of whatever is happening here. The three of us. We started it, by god, we're going to finish it together. Now, let's move this...*thing* and see what's down there.\"\n\nAnd so, they did. Mick and Eric had anchored a pulley on the wall two meters up, so all it took to was another few good yanks to pull the puck of metal out of the way. Fran tried not to think about the metal. They'd deduced the structure's relative age, and to find this would be a bit like finding a neanderthal corpse wearing plate and mail. She unclipped a light from the wall and aimed it's beam into the hole. The body was sitting daintily against the wall, legs crossed, hands folded on their lap. They were emaciated, a skeleton with gray skin clinging to their bones. The clothes had shredded to rags and their hair was not but whisps. She felt uneasy, noticing they were looking up at the hole, flecks of light shining deep in the eye sockets. She sighed.\n\n\"I've got a lift harness. Y'all get it attached to the pulley and let's see what's going on down there.\"\n\nEric dropped into the hole with her, and as they were lowered Fran's uneasiness mounted. The walls had a dusty sheen to them, and through the grime she could make out the material. Metal. As they hit the floor, it gave a hollow clang. She glared meaningfully at Eric. \n\n\"I don't know what the fuck is going on, but we've got to get out of here fast. Strap the stiff.\"\n\nAs they tied it into the harness, she couldn't help but feel like its head tracked her movements. It must have been the motion of the attachment process but damn if it wasn't eerie. Once finished, Eric began to tie an unrecognizable knot along the belay line.\n\n\"What's that?\" She asked\n\n\"Double daisy lift line. No one is staying down here any longer than they need to, it's fucking creepy.\" Fran scoffed at Eric's remark.\n\n\"No way. We'll be overweight. Like fuck am I waiting for medevac down here with a wadded up corpse and two broken legs. Get up there, and keep that body safe.\"\n\nEric was wilful but would under no circumstance ignore a direct order. However, Fran did regret it. The room was cold, cloying and an uncomfortable aura enveloped her. The depth of her mistake didn't appear until Eric and the body were just passing over her head. There was a tattoo on the foot, a band around the ankle. The script was wrinkled and distorted, bit she would never be able to dislodge that sight. It was her tattoo. Her ankle. Her breath quickened, and fear caught her. Impossible was a word she'd heard a lot on this job, and it ran around her head like a stir-crazy dog. As she watched them disappear from the mouth of the hole, the light changed. Hard yellow changed to fluttering orange. Long, flickering shadows fell into the oubliette, making the walls dance. She'd know torchlight anywhere. A choir of voices chanted, the words echoing hollowly around her. Then, the lid closed, sealing her in endless black. Those words stayed with her. It took some time to translate them, the ancient words had never been pronounced. Time, she found she had in excess then, there in eddying darkness. Until light came again, a familiar figure picked out in blinding yellow. In that time immemorial the words sprinted around and around and around.\n\n\"And now, as has always been done, again and repeating again, we seal this loop in the name of Thoth. Tied like a ringed noose, we pray.\"",
"The musty odor of the hall changed perceptibly. A fresh dusty smell entered the room. I hadn't smelled dust, fresh dust in years, but the sense of it being dust felt embedded in some primitive part of my brain. It was a disturbance and had to be investigated. So I walked in the direction where the smell was the strongest.\n\nLight entered through the ceiling at one place in the hall. A rope was suspended from a hole in the ceiling, and two men stood under the hole while another climbed down the rope.\n\nUnexpected visitors. Their robes didn't have any breathing room and were rather tightly tailored, and in their hands were torches that glowed without fire.\n\n\"Hello, gentlemen,\" I shouted in greeting.\n\nBy now, the third man had descended from the rope, and they all looked towards me.\n\n\"What's that?\"\n\n\"Is it a skeleton?\"\n\n\"Did you hear something?\"\n\nA peculiar bunch, they were more interested in talking to each other. So much so for being a welcoming host.\n\n\"Hello, gentlemen,\" I shouted louder.\n\n\"...Hello?\" The fattest of them replied.\n\n\"What business are you on?\"\n\nThe tallest of them muttered to the others. \"You heard that?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" said the third, bespectacled man. \"Did they send anyone before us?\"\n\n\"Who are you?\" the fat one shouted.\n\n\"The guardian of the halls,\" I said. \"The halls under the temple, that is.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I can see that,\" the fat one replied.\n\n\"Who the hell is it? Is it that skeleton you saw earlier?\" the tall one said to his bespectacled companion.\n\n\"Oh, scary. You got me, yay. Stop with the games; we're on a mission here.\"\n\n\"Can you show yourself?\" the fat man shouted.\n\n\"Sunlight. I can't. I haven't seen the sun in a long time, and I'm afraid I will faint in its presence. Walk towards the path your torches are pointed. Thirty paces and you shall find me.\"\n\nThe whole thing was terribly exciting. It isn't proper for a guardian to invite people in, but I was lonely and somewhat depressed.\n\nThe fat man and the tall man came towards me while their friend remained behind. These were clever folk. And their flameless torches were bright, but the gentlemen jumped when the light hit my body.\n\n\"A ghost!\"\n\n\"A mummy!\"\n\n\"No, sirs. I am Hinrd, the treasurer and the guardian of the hall,\" I said and bowed. Politeness, the priest told me long back, makes people feel comfortable.\n\nBut my visitors, they fled. They ran to their rope in the hole and climbed back up. I didn't even get to ask them if they knew about the treasure and had come to rob it. I guess it was my own fault, dilly-dallying like that.\n\nI didn't perform my duty well. Protocol has to be followed by a guardian, and that I did not do. I wonder how much time will pass before an opportunity for redemption presents itself. I hope they come back."
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[WP] Everyday walking home you see a mannequin staring down at you from a house window. One day it’s holding a sign that says ‘help me’ and the next day PLEASE. The owner of the home drives up and you look up to see the mannequin gone. You decide to investigate.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"It's been a week since the owner of the house with the mannequin returned home. I haven't seen the mannequin since he returned home. But thankfully, he's leaving for vacation soon. As soon as I learned his name, I stalked him online and learned that he's leaving tonight for a vacation in Europe. Gone for at least a week or so. I'm going to break in to the house. I've seen no evidence of a security system, and I even think I know where a spare key is.\n\nMorning. I won't be making it to work today. Already called out. Told them I needed to give my grandma a ride to a hospital out of town. Didn't realize until after the phone call that I don't have a car, that's why I walk to work. Do they know I'm bullshitting? Maybe. Do they care? Probably not. Everyone else skips work and says they're sick when they aren't. Whatever. Back to the task at hand. That mannequin. I'm at the house. The window that the mannequin is normally in faces my work, and I never saw it when walking to work. How many days was the mannequin begging for help and I just couldn't see? 6:30am. I would be at work in 15 minutes on a normal day. I approach the door and reach below the mailbox...bingo! A little magnetic key box. I pop it open and find a key. I slide it in to the lock and...I'm in. Part of me feels juvenile. How exciting it is to explore a new place, a new house. Another part of me is mortified. What if a neighbor saw me and calls the cops? I have my whole life ahead of me, jail would ruin that. Perhaps I could say I saw someone inside with a sign asking for help? Regardless, the only way that story would hold any clout is if I found the mannequin...and even then, I would likely be dismissed as insane. That's fine. I've decided it's worth it. Why do I feel so motivated to help this mannequin? I'm inside. Normal house, it seems. A bit of jealously bites at my neck. My tiny apartment compared to this mansion? Forget that. It's really dark inside, and the sun has only just risen. I flick the lights on and see nothing of note. The fridge is really loud. The air conditioning is also screeching. How could the owner possibly deal with this racket? The attic is my destination. No pets, nothing of note...Everything in the house looks so fresh and new. Am I just lazy with keeping my apartment clean and tidy? I know this house was built at least 50 years ago...I did enough internet stalking to know that. It looks at least partially renovated. This puts me in a mild state of ease. I search more, and find the stairs. At the top of the stairs in a draw string leading to the attic. I waste no more time. Yank on the draw string and with a loud startling crash, the wooden ladder comes down. My last chance to rethink this. Do I really want to risk my chances of going to prison just to rescue a mannequin? I could leave right now. But I've already decided. Why am I wasting time? I go up the ladder...in to a dry attic. A good 20 degrees warmer than the rest of the house. I glance toward the window I saw the mannequin. No mannequin, but the whiteboard is face down on the dusty ground. I slowly walk over, hearing the house creak as I walk, and pick it up. Slowly turning it around, I read what it says. \"Finally.\" Something blunt hits my head. I crumple to the ground like a wet noodle. I can feel blood on my head, soaking my hair. It feels cold. I use all my strength to roll over to see my assailant, and in disbelief my eyes show me...the mannequin. Holding a cast iron skillet with a splattering of blood. My blood. Just like before, there's no emotion or color. The mannequin drops the weapon, kneels down, and grabs my neck. It's cold too. While it doesn't strangle me, I still drift away into sleep. I've accepted my life is over at this point. What an idiot I am...\n\nHow long has it been since I was murdered? Was I murdered? My vision turns on. My eye lids feel so...light. I try to blink, and I can't. I try to gasp...and I cant. I feel no pain, even though I was smashed over the head. It takes no strength to sit up. I'm in the attic. My vision is so clear. I always had bad vision, and my glasses were old. It's evening, and only the slightest bit of light bleeds in to the attic from the cursed window. I reach back to check the blood on my head, and I cant feel any hair. I bring my hand back and look at it to see...white. My hands are white. There's no blood. I try to gasp and I can feel my brain telling my heart to skip a beat...but it can't. I'm...the mannequin.\n\n\"Good morning.\" I hear my own voice say.\n\nI look over to near the ladder that led to the attic and see myself. Some bandages on the head. I would say my head, but...it's not me anymore.\n\n\"I'm very happy you came to save me. You know I've been stuck up here for nearly a year? I'm lucky you helped. Those dry erase markers the house owner left up here were so old, I was certain nobody would come help before the dried up.\"\n\nI feel my mannequin head start to shake. I'm not willing to accept this anymore. My body was stolen.\n\n\"I was the same as you when I first had my body stolen nearly 50 years ago. I tried for years to kill myself. But no matter what I did, the body wouldn't take any damage. No matter how many times I flung myself into the ground and dropped objects on myself, the body was flawless.\"\n\nI reach for the whiteboard. I need answers. This mystery person in my body noticed and grabs it.\n\n\"No chance. Sorry, you're stuck here now. I paid my time up here, now it's your turn.\"\n\nMy human body takes two steps down the ladder.\n\n\"The owner of this house is deaf. Wont be able to hear you banging around up here. Fairly young too. And for some reason, that body doesn't seem to work for more than a couple hours a day before it shuts off again. I wish I could stay and chat, but I've got a life to live. Spent the last few hours fixing this head wound and digging through your phone to learn about your life. Don't worry, it's in better hands with me anyway.\"\n\nWith that, my body went down the rest of the ladder, and instantly the attic was locked again. I darted over to the door and tried banging on it. I was pitifully weak. I rushed over to the window I originally saw the mannequin in and looked outside. A few moments later, I saw my body walking away, a dried bloody bandage covering my head. My body looked back to me, made eye contact, and smirked, before throwing the dry erase board and markers in the trash can. I could almost feel my last bit of hope exit this cold body I was trapped in. Suddenly, I felt very tired. My legs buckled, and I smashed against the floor. No pain. Just exhaustion. My vision started to fade, but no eyelids fell. Moments later, I was gone. Asleep again. Terrified of the cycle I was now in.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nEdit: Slight grammatical fixes, typos, and a few sentence restructures.",
"Its skin was white and its head was bald. Its face was made up with jarring, exaggerated makeup: dark blue eyeshadow, long black eyelashes, and bright red lipstick.\n\nIts eyes peered down onto the sidewalk, and twice a day I passed through its stare. Why would someone keep a mannequin in their window? It might be a funny joke, I suppose, for a day or two. But it's been a few weeks now. Regardless of the reason, I found myself picking up the pace as I walked past the house. But I never didn't look up.\n\nOne day, just an otherwise normal day by all accounts, I was walking home from work. I turned the corner onto the street and peered up into the house. The mannequin was there, but it wasn't looking straight down anymore. It was looking down the street, toward me.\n\nMy heart jumped and I averted my stare, as if I'd just made eye contact with an actual person. After a little while, I worked up the nerve to look again, only to see its face turned again... Looking at me.\n\nI became immediately uncomfortable but my logical mind prevailed. It was a prank. It must be. What other explanation is there? After a long day at work, my body was tired and my mind was frazzled. I wasn't in the mood to be pranked, so I walked faster.\n\nBut I couldn't help myself. I looked up again.\n\nIt's white face was slightly more colored; a red shown slightly through its ivory face. And there were two veins in its head visible even from this distance. A sign shakily rose from the bottom of the window.\n\n\"Help me.\"\n\nI squinted. The sign rose some more and I saw a word sloppily scrawled at the bottom. \"Please.\"\n\nMy mouth moved to start talking but a truck, only a couple feet to my right, beeped its horn loudly. I shouted and jumped, tripping over my shoe and falling on the grass.\n\n\"Well hello, neighbor,\" the man in the truck was sweaty and large, one strap of his overalls undone, revealing his yellow-stained shirt.\n\n\"Hi,\" I managed to squeak out. I whipped my head back to the window but the mannequin was gone, replaced with curtains still waving from some swift movement.\n\n\"You walk by here a lot?\" He asked the question with no humor in his voice.\n\n\"No,\" I lied.\n\n\"Is that right?\" He spit something brown between me and the truck. \"We like our privacy on this street, and I don't recognize you as one of my neighbors.\"\n\n\"I'm just taking a shortcut home,\" I said. \"Long day.\"\n\n\"Walking is good for you, son,\" he half spoke, half hollared. \"Walking around here ain't.\" With that cryptic warning, he revved the engine of the ancient pickup and barreled down the residential street.\n\nThe window was still empty after he left. It occurred to me that this could very well be some elaborate prank, but it also could be real, and it didn't seem right to ignore it.\n\nI called the police because I'm not an idiot. Sure, I could sneak back there in the dead of night and investigate, but that's what dumb people do in horror movies. Not me. I phoned the police station as soon as I got home.\n\nIt rang once and they picked up. \"Pleasantville Police Department.\"\n\nI explained what I saw. They asked for an address and I gave it to them. They asked me for my name and information and I gave that to them as well. They promised they would follow up on it and let me know if anything came of it.\n\nFor the next couple days, the mannequin was gone from the window. I never got a call from the police, but I assumed they figured it out and it was nothing big.\n\nOn the third day, as I walked home and passed the house, the mannequin was in the window again. It was watching me again. A chunk of its head was missing and a large crack traveled down its cheek. Mascara streaked down its face. It showed a new sign as it watched me walk.\n\n\"Help help help help help help help help help help help help.\"\n\nI tried mouthing to it \"Is this for real? I'll call the cops right now!\"\n\nIt stood still.\n\nI called the police when I got home and it was the same routine again. They wouldn't say whether or not they went to the house or discovered anything. They just took down information.\n\nAgainst my better judgment, I stayed up late and prepared a bag to investigate. I had some tools still laying around from a troubled past: a crowbar, lockpicks, lock cutters, knives, etc.\n\nI showed up to the house and snuck around back. The door was locked with several locks and there were bars on the windows, but they were screwed on from the outside, not to keep intruders out, but something in.\n\nI unscrewed the bars and removed them. I opened the window and stepped inside the dark house. It was a mess; a hoarder's nest for sure. Food and junk and books and paper lied everywhere. The Air was like breathing pure ammonia and rotten meat. I turned on my flashlight and shined around the horrible space.\n\nSomething moved quickly in the shadows and the window shattered. I heard a man in the house shout \"what the fuck!\"\n\nI jumped out the window, now shattered, from the inside out, I noticed. And I ran home.\n\nThe next week I was walking home, the same path as always. The window was empty and I hoped the pranksters had learned their lesson. I didn't feel good about breaking and entering, but I feel worse about being taunted after work every day.\n\nI looked straight ahead. She... It... The mannequin was there. It's limbs were disproportionately long and it's white body was scuffed and worn. It was looking at me. Moving toward me. Running.\n\nScreaming."
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[WP] When they reach adulthood, each human is bestowed a spiritual guardian; an animal that will accompany and guide them for the rest of their lives. You've just reached adulthood and your spiritual guardian is... a human.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"***TW: SA***\n\n\"Lo, as the gods of the New Age decreed, thus shall it be!\"\n\nAnya hated the ritual. She hated the Church. She hated the irony that the \"New Age\" had been going for ten thousand years. She hated that her parents had forced her to be here. \n\nThe one thing she did not hate is that tomorrow, she'd be able to leave. \n\nAnya walked down the center aisle of the Cathedral, head held high. The usual whispers started. She couldn't hear them over the music of the organ, but she could see people leaning in, saying things into one another's ears. She could see people's companions fluttering from shoulder to shoulder, passing messages to those who could not sit in the same pews.\n\nWhat they were saying was no mystery: \n\n*\"White? She has the audacity to wear white?\"*\n\n*\"Such a shame.\"*\n\n*\"Ruined when she was only a girl.\"*\n\n*\"There were four of them, I heard. Four! Four at once!\"*\n\n*\"Should have been exiled. Does not deserve forgiveness.\"*\n\nAnya ignored them, though internally she wanted to set the building on fire. For two years, the humiliation was a constant buzz around her at every public gathering, at every market day, at every feast after penance. \n\nA memory of the day flashed before her eyes. The way Colin had been so kind. The way she'd looked forward to riding. His three friends in the stables. The hours of it all turning sour and painful and vile. The way that everyone had looked at her once the altar boys had confessed a pale shadow of their sins before the congregation and looked to her to do the same. \n\nThe way everyone after had looked when she refused. \n\nAnya was finally at the altar. She stared into the eyes of the priest, shoving the knowledge that among the sixteen altar servants, Colin and his merry band were among them still. \n\nThankfully, all grew silent. The priest cleared his throat and began. \n\n\"It was on that day that the voice said 'I shall give unto you a sign. Ye shall not walk alone, but ye shall have a servant, a sign unto you that you are loved. You are cared for. You are given aid'.\n\n\"Will you, Anya Marie Corrine Riverward, take this sign?\"\n\n\"I shall,\" she spat. *And none of you will own me. I will have my freedom. I will be your peer, not your pity.*\n\nThe priest extended his hand. She took it lightly. There was murmuring in the pews. Apparently, people lost bets that she did not instantly light ablaze nor did the roof collapse. \n\nThe priest led her to the cauldron. \n\n\"Water and soil, fire to warm it and air above. Now, the last. Will you give the cauldron your blood?\"\n\n\"I will.\"\n\n\"By your own hand!\"\n\nHis ancient, liver spotted hands produced a knife, as if by magic. \n\nAnya took it. She briefly thought of shoving it into the neck of the priest, into the vein of the Church for how it had failed her. That, though, would not lead to her freedom. So she did not. \n\nShe put her finger to the tip. She felt it go in. Three drops, just three, fell into the bubbling water. \n\nThe organ music rose to greet her companion. Her family crest was a dog, a great wolfhound. That would be the most likely. Birds and mice were quite common. The priest's own companion was a horse. \n\nThe congregation held their collective breath. \n\nThe lights dimmed. The cauldron's contents turned to vapor. The choir raised their voices to greet the companion. \n\nThen everyone stopped. \n\nA head of dark hair came up out of the cauldron. Then two enormous brown eyes. Finally, a naked body. \n\nThe priest stammered, \"It's... it's a girl?\"\n\nYou could hear the collective gasp as the congregation saw that there was, in fact, a girl standing in the cauldron. She looked no more than seven. She looked out at them all, past Anya, with indifference. \n\nA woman, the baker's wife, stood up from the first pew and shouted, \"She's a bastard! A sin child!\"\n\nAnya's father held her mother as they both began to sob. \n\nThe whole congregation burst into bedlam, shouts, and shrieks. \n\n\"FINISH THE RITUAL.\"\n\nEveryone went silent again. The child had uttered her first words, it seemed. \n\nThe priest stepped forward. His voice was barely as whisper and he shook like winter.\n\n\"Um.. yes... Do... Do you, Anya, recognize this grace?\"\n\n\"I... I do.\"\n\nShe could not believe the words coming from her mouth, but the came as easy as exhaled breath. \n\n\"Extend your hand that she may know your... your scent?\"\n\nThe words didn't seem right. Yet Anya, as if sleepwalking, raised her hand the way she had in the half dozen practices. The child crawled out of the cauldron; the priest didn't even try to help. She plod on bare feet to Anya and smiled. She then bent forward and nuzzled her hand. \n\nThe priest said, \"The Companion is yours. Glory... be... to the Gods of Sky.\"\n\nHe then fainted. \n\nThe Church erupted once more. The Deacon, frozen before, unstuck himself and swept up, extending his cloak. He wrapped it around both Anya and the child and pulled them into the back. The next moments were a blur. A garment was found of the girl, a choir boy's uniform. People were shoved out. The priest was carried in back and given brandy.\n\n\"What can we do for you?\" Someone asked Anya. \n\n\"Just I... no, we want to be alone.\"\n\nThey were taken to the priest's office. Everyone was kept out, as requested. Anya was alone with her companion. \n\nThey stared at each other for a long while. Finally, Anya spoke. \n\n\"What should I call you.\"\n\nThe child shrugged. \n\n\"Are you really my companion?\"\n\nThe child nodded. \n\n\"Oh... wow. I... this...\"\n\n\"Shh.\"\n\nThe child was smiling as she shushed Anya. Her voice sounded like that of any other child. \n\n\"I am your companion. Not daughter. Not sister. Not sin. I will serve you as the others do. I will be by you, like this, all your days. You will have me with you always. I won't speak very much, but when I do, you should listen.\"\n\nAnya stood. Tears began to form. She balled up her fists and began to pace. \n\n\"So, I've got a little commander. This is such a joke. The gods wouldn't help me when I needed it, but they'll tell me what to do. I was... I'm going to be free today. I'm leaving here. Going far away. You can be with me or not, but no one is telling me to stay. I leave tonight.\"\n\n\"Tomorrow.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You should leave tomorrow.\"\n\nAnya's mouth hung open. The child's face was serious. A pit formed in Anya's stomach that felt like nothing would ever fill it. \n\nThe door swung open. The priest was there. So was her parents. \n\n\"They've come to take you home.\"\n\nAnya could not find the strength to argue. A tiny hand took hers. The child was smiling now. Anya was not. \n\nNeither her mother or father said anything to her on the ride home. They had said enough when she'd told them the night before that she was leaving. Mother's ferret and father's wolfhound snuggled with the child. \n\nAnya mused to herself that was the only reason they weren't trying to leave her new companion by the road. \n\nWhen they got home, Anya asked the servants to send food to her room. She went up. The bed she'd prepared for her companion seemed comical now, a pillow on the floor and a pile of blankets. Anya went to her bed instead. She invited the child to come with her. \n\nShe stood by the edge of the bed and held up her arms. \n\nAnya bent over and picked her up. The both sat cross legged, looking at one another for a long time. \n\n\"Do you need food?\"\n\nThe child shook her head. No other companion did, but she figured it was polite to ask. \n\nThere was a knock at the door. Anya answered it. The maid, Gayla, dropped off a small bundle of clothes. \n\n\"For... um... her.\"\n\n\"That will be all. Thank you.\"\n\nAnya brought them over. They were obviously her own dresses from when she was very young. \n\nShe said, \"They're yours if you want them.\"\n\n\"For tomorrow. You should sleep now, my mistress.\"\n\nAnya shook her head at the honorific. She could not argue that she was tired, though. \n\nAnya changed into night clothes. She laid on the bed. Her companion watched her but did not move or change out of the altar boy clothes. Anya laid down and asked, \"Do you want to rest, too?\"\n\n\"I don't sleep, mistress.\"\n\n\"Oh. Of course.\"\n\nThe child did sit by her, on a pillow, sitting up against the wall. As Anya drifted, the child sang to her. \n\nAnya woke a different song. \n\nShe cracked her eyes and saw Gayla, who was shaking. She was by the bath and the child was in the water, humming a happy tune and scrubbing her hands. Anya mouthed the words, \"Everything okay?\"\n\nGayla's eyes flitted to Anya's dresser. She looked over. \n\nAt the foot of it was a blood soaked choir boy uniform. On top of it were four hearts. Human. Four.\n\nAnya found herself strangely happy. \n\nIt was noon when they set out. No one stopped them. No one whispered. At the edge of town, on foot with nothing but what Anya had in her pack and the clothes on their back, they prepared for Anya's journey. \n\n\"May I call you Faith?\"\n\nAnya's companion looked up, \"I'd like that.\"\n\nHand in hand, they took to the road."
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[WP] In an elite academy for super powered people, your ability to control puppets is looked down upon, being seen as only having value for entertainment. You know otherwise, but have made no effort to correct people. That way, it'll be so much better when they finally see what you can really do.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"September 1, 2010 \n\nI know I need to be patient, but it gets harder every day. In a way, I appreciate their jeers. I can use them as fuel. It makes what I'm going to have to do easier. \n \nStill, I'm human, and it's starting to really hurt. It would be one thing if I just had their scorn, but the nobler ones have decided I'm worth pitying, and that's the part I can't take. Even the instructors have joined, in that regard, and for some reason that bothers me worst of all.\n\nOn my worst days, I wonder why you chose me for this task. I have faith that you had a good reason, but I haven't figured it out yet.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n((Not really sure where I wanna take this one but that's all I can come up with right now. Fun prompt!))",
"\\[March 17th, 20XX\\]\n\nOnly 47 more days...\n\n47 more days of keeping up this act. 47 days of playing this \"super ventriloquist\" gimmick. 47 more days until I can control another of them. 47 more days until my \"puppeteer\" dies, presumably from exhaustion. 47 days until one of them picks me up and becomes my new vessel. If I'm lucky, Omniria could be my target. After all, she's unkillable, and anything she touches is also unkillable so long as she continues to touch it.\n\nBut that's not to say I'm the luckiest puppet to exist. No no, quite far from it. People freak out when an inanimate doll moves on it's own, so I have to move as little a possible. Due to me being considered little more than a toy, I've encountered some.. unsavory people. Some have tried tearing my limbs off. others have set me on fire. Why, you might ask? Because they take enjoyment out of their random sadism.\n\nAnyways, back to what I was saying. 47 more days..."
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[WP] You are on a deserted island writing letters to someone. Tell the story using only the letters.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Dear Layla,\n\nI cannot begin to describe the devastation I feel now after the events of the past day. I have been shipwrecked, washed up on a deserted island, and I fear I shall never again gaze upon you. I have been attempting to scrounge for food and water with limited success, my hopes are dwindling with each moment that passes, as if dragging me ever further away from you. Until next time, my deepest love,\n\nDerrick\n\n&#x200B;\n\nDear Layla,\n\nIt has been another few days, my body has begun wasting away, the lack of food and minimal sips of what water I can gather sucking the vitality from me. I am attempting to remain strong for you, for my family, but I can feel death breathing upon my neck. Today, I scouted the entire island with what meager strength I could manage, looking for anything of use to survive or better yet, escape. I found some wooden planking, not very rotted, and some lengths of rope, I assume from my floundered ship, wherever she may now rest. I have decided that I will attempt to fashion a crude raft, a vessel to return me to your embrace or to death\\`s for I shall not sit here and await either passively. \n\nYour dutiful love, always,\n\nDerrick\n\n&#x200B;\n\nDear Layla,\n\nWork on the raft is progressing as well as can be expected. My strength continues to wane but through sheer force of will and the memory of your warmth and kindness I urge myself to work on. I have banded together the aged planks I scavenged with several deadwood logs I was able to find throughout the island and tied it all up with the lengths of rope. Next, I will use the last of the wood I have to fashion a lean-to of sorts for protection from the sun and to collect rainwater. I found the challenge of fashioning my creation with but Stone Age tools fascinating and assisted in ensuring I worked on. I will find my way home, this will not be my end, this will not be **our** end.\n\nYours eternally,\n\nDerrick\n\n&#x200B;\n\nDear Layla,\n\nThe raft is complete-***and she floats!*** A short test voyage showed that it can at least survive the crashing of the surf and make it to the open ocean. I have just awoken from a good night\\`s rest and have gathered my meager supplies and belongings, munching on some of my scavenged foods to gather all the strength I can for the voyage. I intend to head west, along my original ship\\`s heading in hopes of crossing a trade-line and having a greater chance of being found by a passing vessel. I found a small rock with an embedded crystal of some kind that I intend to use to reflect the light of the sun and illuminate any distant ships of my presence. With that, I have prepared all that I can. I will seal these letters in an empty bottle and store them on my raft, to either give to you in person or in the event of my death, that maybe someday, they will make their way to you. I hold onto hope with all of my vigor, my love for you has never been stronger, or deeper. The distance between us has shown me just how much I need you in my life, every day, always. My world is the darker for every day spent without you. Now, I set out upon these wayward seas, ready to battle Poseidon himself to but hold your hand once more. \n\nAll of my love, my devotion, my very life,\n\nDerrick"
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[WP] After you die, you discover that people's souls become as powerful as the thing that killed them. The afterlife is ruled by the citizens of Nagasaki and Hiroshima, the strongest souls to ever pass on; and they've only got a fraction of your power.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"“It was just as many of the 23d century tv shows, movies, and plays had predicted. In the year 3005, a scientist named Holyen Geriop attempted to bring the skeletal remains of a dinosaur back to life.”\n\nGroans drifted throughout the room. They knew this story well.\n\n“He brought in the help of many other well known scientists, including Denli Dopel and Kailo Terano. Though people rioted in the streets for the government to shut the project down, the team continued working on their serum of revival. Others speculated that this would lead to a tremendous scientific break, and it gained the support of thousands around the world.”\n \nA fly buzzed near an open window. \n \n“Today, we will be going more in-depth into what actually caused the rise of the Rvern. As you know, Holyen Geriop was a genius man, and with his team, they were thought to be some of the most unstoppable men in history. On the day before the first test using real dinosaur remains, only a few years ago in 3010, the horror know as “repentance” occurred.” \n \nI could practically hear people rolling their eyes. While some were interested, it was safe to say most were not. They wanted the problem solved, not a lesson on how it isn’t. \n \n“A little girl with an estimated age of 9 broke into the laboratory. Even after all these years, no one knows her name. She remains a Jane Doe. In the aftermath of the explosion, it was determined that this little girl was not trying to cause harm, but simply need a place to get out of the winter wind and temperatures that were soaring into the negatives.”\n\nChalk marks on the board at the front of the room portrayed a diagram. \n \n“The laboratory was disguised as an abandoned building, so as not to attract attention. With homelessness at an all time low and break-ins happening only once every few years, it was thought that this would be enough. However, it was still equipped with a top notch security system, which went into lockdown the moment our Jane Doe entered.”\n\nChairs scraped against the wooden floor. There was a pointed tapping of feet from the front of the room, and silence descended once more. \n\n“Now, we may never know exactly what happened in that lab, but one of the popular theories among scientists is that the Jane Doe must have at some point knocked over two or more of the mixtures in progress, causing them to fall and creating a new substance more powerful than thought possible. Most likely, when mixed, they formed a vapor, which is how the toxins spread so far. Unfortunately, the toxins overwhelmed the girl’s body, and she died only fifteen minutes after entering the building. By then, the laboratory was surrounded by the armed forces and local police. The lockdown method kept anyone from entering or exiting until all possible exit routes were blocked on the outside. When the guards stormed the building, they released the now mutated dinosaurs, or what we call the Rvern. These monsters are large and extremely powerful. In only two weeks, the capital city of the old country fell. This is also your daily reminder to always carry a feole flower for protection!”\n\nDozens of feole flowers were pulled from underneath chairs and desks and held tightly. As the only thing the Rvern would never come close to, they were worth millions in some places. \n\n“Ok, thank you class, this concludes your lesson.” \n\nAs the chairs of thirty high school freshman scooted back, the door to the hall opened. Children streamed out the door and down the hall. I walked among them seamlessly. I’m invisible to them, after all. It’s depressing, but to be honest, not much different than how my life went. To be a Jane Doe is only to be expected after a life like mine. \n\nMy name is Jane Mhari, even if no body else knows it. I am nine years old and have been dead for five years, after the chemical explosion I caused in a top secret laboratory. A soul is only as powerful as the thing that killed it, of course, and the only other people who can see me, fear me. They sent me back to earth. I’m too powerful to ever belong.",
"I don’t know what went wrong, or what force they didn’t take into account,or honestly if a 1 just failed to get carried somewhere but I missed the planet. Not by a lot mind you, maybe a few hundred miles. Close enough to feel gravity start to pull at the outside edge of things, and get the slightest trajectory change but not enough to pull me into the atmosphere. FTL is a nice idea, but with out the Cryo-stasis tech I would have been dead lifetimes before reaching the planet. Now I see the master of my demise looming through the window with nothing to stop me or slow me down. \n\n\n\nThe cryo saved me the feeling of hitting the plasma, and maybe even kept me alive for an extra 1millionth of a second, but this new land is something they cryo had nothing to do with. The lush trees and vibrant grass, with mountains so tall that Everest looks like a foothill in comparison. But the people, are the stuff of nightmare. The ones in charge are cruel, they know that what is dead cant die, so they torture and maim those who are too weak to stop them. They live as if in tune with their surroundings, but the scars on the ground are almost as deep and hidden as the ones inflicted on the people. I can’t tell if I’m more angry or shocked by what I’m seeing but I feel the waves of hot anger and cold despair rack through me. As I walk down the path, I’m met by two men at the guard station who stop me and ask what I’m doing there. However, as they reach out to grab me one just retailed back in pain as blisters covered his hands and the other stopped in his tracks with the deepest blue I had ever seen before his leg shattered like a twig under his weight.",
"My shuttle was drifting out in open space. The FTL drive had broken down days ago as best I can guess, and the pseudo-intelligence on board had estimated that without the drive it'd take decades to get back to civilized space. The black hole I was sent out to research is getting awfully close. I guess this is it. \n\nAll I knew for thirty seconds was pain. Excruciating pain, as my body was spaghettified due to the absurd gravity of the black hole. And then there was nothing.\n\nI woke up after an unknown amount of time had passed in a bright waiting room. A receptionist said to me, \"Hi, James Nilan! Welcome to the afterlife! Before you enter the rest of the Afterlife, I should mention to you: Here, everyone gains the power of the thing that killed them. Our world is ruled by the citizens of Hiroshima and Nagasaki who died in the explosions of the Fat Man and Little Boy A-bombs.\"\n\nI acknowledged that I understood her explanation and went into the world to find a brutal dystopia. The weaker deaths, such as those by poison or bullet, were used as slaves by the stronger deaths, such as those by explosion or natural disaster. \n\nAs I went deeper into the city, the worse it got. In the inner city, anyone who didn't die in Hiroshima or Nagasaki was a slave to their overlords. I walked into the palace, right up to the leaders, one from each city whom the bomb had detonated right on top of and said to them, \"This is unjust. Free all of your slaves immediately, or I will destroy you all.\" \n\n\"HAHAHAHAHAHA! What death could rival that of an atom bomb?\"\n\nI responded calmly, \"Several. For example, hydrogen bombs. Antimatter implosion due to faulty antimatter containment on an FTL or Markov drive. Supernova or kilonova. Or the one I had, where I was spaghettified by a black hole. You don't even have a fraction of a fraction of my power. I could wipe everyone in this city off the face of this plane permanently at the snap of my fingers. Surrender now, unconditionally, or I will destroy you.\"\n\nSo, that's the story of how I became King of the City at the End. I went over to the Book of Law and wrote a few new ones to make all deaths equal. And I made everything better for everyone. Except those shits who thought that dying to radiation was the best death. Fuck them.",
"*\"where are my shoes?\"*\n\nAron's feet didn't hurt. Yet it seemed she'd been walking for days. She wasn't tired, or hungry, or bored. She was On Her Way, but she knew not where. Only that she must get there as soon as possible so that she didn't miss the... the...\n\n*Psst*\n\nAron's head swiveled, a look of exaggerated surprise on her face as she beheld a figure just off the path beside a tree. \"You must be a Newling,\" the figure croaked. As she approached the figure, Aron noticed it was much larger than it's hunched form suggested, perhaps 8 feet tall were it to stand to its full height.\n\nIntimidated, Aron stopped. \"Who are you?\"\n\n\"I am the lord here, and you are *trespassing.\"* The figure stood fully erect and began striding towards Aron with purpose. \"Newling or not, my laws are absolute. You must *pay.\"*\n\nAron turned to run, but she knew the figure was too fast. She grabbed a fallen branch and whirled to face her attacker. It made no sound, but arms began folding out from its humanoid torso and stretching, spider-like, to grab at her. She dodged a four-fingered hand, when another struck her shoulder, knocking her to the ground. The figure pounced, hands on stilted arms grabbed at her throat. Panic engulfed her, as she pawed at the face that was now inches from hers, grinning, grinning...\n\nWhite. All white. The accident. Oh god oh god oh god the *accident.* Did it happen? How? How could she survive? Where was she? Wait. Think. The exotic matter containment field was undergoing routine testing. It was almost ready. Sure this was a larger volume than had been attempted previously, but only by a few percent. She'd done it hundreds of times, this was no different. Until the injection stream failed in the open position.\n\nShe tried everything, but the exotic matter production was tied to an irreversible, unstoppable reaction, and there was no way to safely eject the already-accreted quantity if the containment field were powered off. She needed to evacuate the building. She remembers tripping the catastrophic failure alarm. She remembers the vault doors closing, and the sound of the 14 basement floors above her collapsing several minutes later. Protocol. She never thought she'd have to do it, but better her than half the city.\n\nShe remembers the containment field failing. White. All white.\n\nShe opened her eyes. She knew. She didn't survive. Around her was a glowing pool of molten glass. She could feel some heat, but it wasn't unpleasant. She stood on an untouched island in the center, the trees and grass and path for 20 meters was gone. The figure was gone. She held her throat where it had grabbed her, her hand came away covered in ashes. Confused and somber, she waited for the glass to cool, knowing that time no longer mattered.\n\nIgnoring her urge to hurry, she walked along the glass surface gingerly, though it was smooth. Like part of her expected it to break and plunge her into the depths. At the edge, many people had gathered. And some other not-quite-people. Or at least not quite human people.\n\nAron had no idea what to expect from the afterlife, but the people began kneeling as she approached. Their faces were downcast, broken, and terrified. Not knowing how to react, she simply asked \"where am I?\"\n\nThose nearest her looked up, obviously confused.\n\nOne man replied \"you mean to tell us you're a Newling? That's impossible! You could not have done this!\" The uproar was overwhelming as the news spread among the crowd. Aron couldn't tell if they were angry, afraid, or elated.\n\nShe ran. She ran to where she knew she needed to be. The urge was too strong and she ran faster. Faster. *Faster.* She was dead. Why then, did she feel so *late?* Then she saw the city.\n\nThen she knew."
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[WP] A monster hunter who lived in a fantasy world found himself on Earth. Years later, he returned to his world with guns.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Legends spoke of a man. He was fast, smart, strong and almost perfect in every way. He crafted and wielded weapons that were double his own weight and could fight off even the biggest of them like they were nothing more than an annoying dog.\n\nHe was recorded singlehandedly defending towns from hordes of monsters from morning to night with no rest. Myths of him were spread far and wide. Then he disappeared.\n\nEver since the legendary monster hunter disappeared, the world descended into chaos. Cities walled themselves off to keep the beast out. Villages migrated to hostile places in search of a safer place to live. Heros came from all over the continent to help but they were no match for these monsters.\n\nAfter only a decade, the world was worse than it had been before the monster hunter. Many citizens lost faith and hope. Many rulers saw that their demise was only a 'when', rather than a 'if'. The armies of man crumbled before the monsters.\n\nAt the final outer city, the Lord awaited the report. He knew what it said, but he just hoped he was wrong. Through these hard times, he had gotten to know his people better. They were no longer JUST the peasantry, but the foundation of his...no...THEIR city.\n\nThe knights and adventures gathered at the gate, waiting for the black mass at the horizon. Goodbyes and farewells were being spoke as they prepared for the suicidal defence of their city.\n\nHearts skipped a beat when a glow appeared between the gate and the horde now exiting the horizon. A muscled man with weapons of all shapes and sizes stood there in green painted clothes. The only thing people could recognise was the sword.\n\n\"Its the monster hunter! He's here to save us! \" came the shouts of the people that saw him.\n\nThey watched him pull a large F shaped thing of his back and level it at the incoming beast. Soon, the sound of repeated thunder came out from the device and shredded anything it was pointed at.\n\nIt stopped briefly. The monsters got closer. He took a curved rectangular thing from the weapon and placed a new one in. The weapon sounded out again, its thunderous noise started and the monsters fell.\n\nWhen he ran out of those rectangular pieces, he pulled out two smaller one. Once those were done, he pulled a much smaller L shaped weapon out. By the time that had run out, the horde was nothing more than a few dozen. Those last few dozen were slain by the sword.\n\nAt long last he was back. He told stories of a place without magic or monsters. Of machines and miracles. A world where humans rule and where they have surpassed the limits of the sky or their world.\n\nFor many years to come, people would argue his stories. Whether they were true or not. The only thing people knew was that he had come back and he was deadlier than ever. His weapons were studied and replicated. His name, which was changed to that of another hero from the other world, forever written.\n\nLeroy Jenkins, the monster slayer."
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[WP] You’re an interior decorator, for supervillains. Always managing to find the right decor to fit their theme perfectly. Unfortunately, a superhero overheard some of your customers talking about you, and is now convinced you’re some sort of master criminal and is intent on bringing you to justice
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"I'm an interior decorator. I pride myself on my ability to theme any building or room exactly how the customer wants, sometimes without them even having to tell me. Perks of being a mind-reader, I guess. I've had some weird customers lately, though. Normally, I don't think about my customers after I've gotten my check. But these people were just plain weird.\n\nOne had a castle. A few gargoyles, some dusty twilight paint, and suitably dramatic red carpet fixed that right up. I mean, it was still a partially ruined castle, but it looked *much* better on the inside than the outside. Another was underwater. That one was fun. Plenty of windows with sheer curtains, stone floors flecked with shells, and just the right about of various shiny things to catch the light. And a third was just a warehouse in the middle of the city. They wanted it to look like a house on the inside. For a million dollars, I won't ask. A nice, cozy house was built inside of what I think was a chemical warehouse.\n\nFinally, however, after almost a week of constant work, I got a day off. Like any functional adult with human responsibilities, I slept in until one in the afternoon. I would have slept longer, but...human needs took over. After taking care of business, I stumbled into the kitchen. Some cereal found its way into a bowl (no thanks to me) and I slumped onto the couch.\n\nSomebody banged on the door. Not knocked, banged. I woke up then. Why would someone be banging on my door at one in the afternoon? I didn't ask any of my friends to come over. I didn't have any clients today, and they don't know my address anyway. I was pretty sure I didn't have a date. I sat silently on the couch, trying to make however was there think I wasn't.\n\n\"Alysha Blackwood, I know you're in there,\" a man's voice called.\n\n\"Who is it?\" I yelled through the door. I still wasn't sure if I should open the door or not.\n\n\"Mr. Amazing,\" the man yelled through. Shit. But why is a superhero at my door? He's angry, so it isn't someone I know that died.\n\nI opened the door. I opened my mouth to talk and Mr. Amazin just grabbed my arm and spun me around. My face made hard contact with the wall. Blood started dripping down my face.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" I demanded, still squished against the wall.\n\n\"You are under arrest on charges of operating with a supervillain and crimes against the organization of heroes.\"\n\nWhat?",
"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*"
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[WP] The man just sat there under a starlit sky, drinking in the rain.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"It was a beautiful night with a full moon that shimmered on the water, but Ben didn’t notice. All he cared about at that moment was his whiskey and his son. His son whose funeral he had attended today. His 4 year old boy was gone. Forever. He wanted to forget. He wanted to make the pain go away, but no matter how many fifths of whiskey Ben drank the pain didn’t go away. He cried loud and hard until nothing was left. Then when he’d think he was done more tears would surface. No matter what he did he couldn’t numb, much less escape, the physical pain that grabbed his chest and squeezed so hard he could barely breathe. Oh, god, he wanted to drown it out. He kept picturing it over and over: his son’s screams as he was pulled under by strong waves. He knew he shouldn’t have taken his eyes off Jake. Why did he not pay attention? This all could’ve been avoided if he’d only been watching Jake more carefully. It was supposed to be a daddy/son day that began with fishing and ended with ice cream, but, instead ended in tragedy when a thunderstorm came out of nowhere. Ben had told Jake to stay inside the cabin of the boat, but Jake kept wandering outside to help his dad. He liked looking at the lightening, though the thunder scared him. The whole idea of a storm while they were out on the water scared the living hell out of Ben. Eventually, he just let Jake hang out on deck while he tried to drive the boat home. Just before they reached safer waters in the intercostal a 6 foot wave rocked the boat hard. Ben heard screams and knew it was his son. Frantically making his way to the other side of the small boat he saw his son flailing his little arms in the waves, trying to keep his head above water. Without a second’s thought, Ben grabbed a life jacket and jumped into the water. \n“Daddy! Daddy! Help me!” With rain blocking his view, Ben finally made it over to his son as the waves dragged him under. As soon as Ben grabbed Jake’s small arm he knew he was too late. The little boy didn’t fight or splash or anything. His little body was lifeless when Ben drug him into the boat and called 911. He had administered CPR until the coast guard got there. Refusing to believe his only son was gone, he had to be pulled off of him by a couple of men. \nNow, a week later, he sat on the dock where the boat used to sit before he sold it. Now, here, on this dock he and his son used to love, the Ben was alone with his whiskey and his tears.",
"I came out of the brush to see a lone house on the lake. It was small and quaint, with a small porch. The rain wasn't too heavy, so the dim lantern, under the overhang, was plainly visible.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nMy vision blurred a little, as I stepped through the overgrowth and onto the wet grass. It came to my ankles, unkempt, to a degree. Coming closer to the little house, my hand to my stomach. My fingers were turning a watery red from under my shirt. A groan threatened to escape my mouth, but I kept it in and continued up to the house, my other arm hanging to my side, useless.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThere was a man on that porch, sat in a rocking chair. A cup of tea sat on his fingers, as he brought it to his lips, the steam escaping into the night. \n\n\nReaching the steps, I found him turning to me. Grey hair fell into pale blue eyes. He looked blind, but I could tell that he saw me in full clarity. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe tranquil silence was broken, when he gave a soft chuckle.\n\n\"Ye look like yer in quite the spot, Lad. Tea?\" A slightly bitter laugh came to my mouth, as I felt lightheadedness start to hang over my mind.\n\n\"Sure. Thank you.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nA cup, not unlike the one he had, settled into my hand, seemingly from nowhere. Red streaks colored the handle, as it came to my lips. A taste of herbs and subtle fruit. It reminded me of home. Of my mother and grandmother.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI knew where I was. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe man gave me another, relieved, smile and crumbled into a dust that was swept up into the night. Against the moon, it looked like a powder of silver, unaffected by the perpetual rain.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAs I stood and sat in the chair, it was like I was always supposed to sit there. The blood no longer flowed from my wound and I lifted my other arm to help me settle into the rocking chair. The calm of the night came back to me and a simple smile came to my mouth, before the rim of the teacup did.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI knew this place. Everyone knew this place. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nA place that never stopped raining and had one occupant. Someone sat on the porch, drinking tea. It was a legend that was way older than I was. I knew one thing, though.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nUntil the day someone comes to take my place, I was home.",
"I have a peaceful life now, a respectable life, and, as I’ve told you before, time and again, I’m happy. I know that it does me no good to chase after shadows.\n\nBut just because I’ve found peace with what my life has become, it doesn’t mean that I ever got over it. On some nights- especially miserable nights like this, when the rain lashes down in sheets and great puddles wash away the footpaths- I think back to Carr Pond, and my mind slips away to happier days and dreams of glory.\n\nI used to go back there in person, you know, in that first decade before everything had settled and some of us still weren’t quite ready yet to give up the good fight. In fact, the last time I went was not two years before you were born.\n\nOh, don’t you go looking at me like that. I’m not blaming you- why would I? But if you must know, I can tell you the story of why I stopped going.\n\nIt all has to do with that trip I was about to tell you about, my last one to the pond. I had taken a couple of friends, old comrades-in-arms who had somehow gotten as lucky as I had and managed to survive the carnage. We camped by the lake for about a week, hunting, fishing… just taking things easy, whilst being as respectful as we could to the memory of the place, of course.\n\nIt was on the seventh day that the storm began. Now, that region gets some vicious storms, and all of us Fifth Battalion guys knew it; remember, we were the ones up to our necks in the mud and the gunk back there during the revolution.\n\nSo, I know what you’re thinking; dig a ditch around the tent and shelter down, right? Right. Problem was, you see, we were out on a hike when the storm hit- about an hour from our tent and conditions were getting worse.\n\nSoon, night had fallen, and we were hopelessly lost. The rain cleared up, and the stars came out above our heads, but we needed somewhere to dry off and get our bearings.\n\nIt was then that we spotted it: a tent! Bright red it was, and huge. Of course, the colour should have been our first warning sign, but we were so happy to have a chance to dry our clothes that we bounded toward it, without a second thought.\n\nAnd that’s when we saw him. He was sitting there, beneath that old, magical flag, just sitting there mind you, drinking out of an old flask and doing sod all else, other than staring up at the stars. My buddies and I, we called out, we called and waved and shouted to get his attention, but he wouldn’t budge.\n\nLost in memories from long ago, if I had to guess.\n\nSo, we left him and, forgive me son, but I have to admit we trespassed. Whilst he was outside, we went inside his tent, to try and dry ourselves off. Turns out, we were only inside for a minute, tops. That was enough to creep us out, good and proper.\n\nWhat did we see inside? Nothing that would scare you, lad. But something that scared us veterans. There was row after row of bunks, flags and equipment, just like how it was all those years ago. Untouched and unblemished by the passing of time. But only one of the beds was messy and there wasn’t another old soldier in sight. Only the geezer outside, drinking alone, trapped in his memories.\n\nAs I say, we left after that, and never came back. We found the right path soon enough, and, after getting back to our tent, we all went our separate ways.\n\nIt’s a horrible thing, son, to go to war, and make sure you never believe their lies when they come past your house with their drums and whistles. You could die, for sure.\n\nBut just like that old man, just like us, it’s the ones left alive at the end you should really be sorry for."
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[WP] Stepping out one day you see a circle made of twigs, pebbles, and dirt on your drive way. As you move in closer to investigate you think you hear faint whispers. Upon further inspection you see a bunch of ants surrounding the circle and the whispers are them chanting your name.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*"
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[WP] All your other billionaire friends are interested in space travel, but you, you're obsessed with building the perfect tuna sandwich.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Your leg bounces up and down, impatiently. The hard heal of your suede shoe taps the floor, again and again and again while the 3/4 inch carpet that covers the floor of your private jet does its best to dampen the sound of your relentless twitching to a dull thud. Percy and Elinor lie slumped in their reclining seats, blissfully asleep for the last couple hours of the 11 hour flight to Tokyo. A smirk lurks in the curve of your mouth as you look over at your best friends. So relived they were when you consented to their little, outing. A weekend stay at the most expensive luxury spa on the island of Honshu, who in their right mind would turn such a proposition down? You briefly exhale, laughing at the irony. Well of course they didn't think that you were in your right mind. It was obvious, the concern in their whispers, the unabashed fear in their glances, furtive, as if they had been sneaky! Ha! It wasn't as if you had tried to hide your feelings from them. Percy and Elinor had been privy to every moment of your life since even the earliest days of your meteoric rise,deceiving them would have felt wrong. Feigning happiness is the quickest path to reveling legitimate discontent, and his friends deserved no sort of watery acting. But how, HOW could they understand what had been gnawing away, like a rat, in the back of your mind. Tearing at every part of your subconscious and invading every moment of your sleepless mind. It had come to you in a dream, glorious and bright, rich and whole, truly and utterly, complete. So magnificent that you awoke to find tears streaming down your face, and saliva spilling out the corners of your mouth. You swore to make that dream a reality, no matter the cost. And now, after weeks of professional consultations with the likes of chefs and scientists, you were one trip to the great fish markets of Japan away from sinking your teeth, yet again, into that most delicious of sandwiches."
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[WP] An immortal is cast into space in a final attempt at execution. After passing through the void for a while, he discovers he is far from the first to receive this treatment.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Propelled at a constant velocity until the end of time, and bound by 3 strong-interaction neoparticles, Lord Vel'Koz hurtled through space at 5% the speed of light. He had been exiled for numerous crimes against the Ka'Sad, and, well, he hadn't really deserved it. He'd only burnt, what, some ten million Sad'in at the stake, forced the leaders of the people to devour sandworms and get eaten from the inside, and vapourised a teensy tiny landmass. Really, it wouldn't even show on the map. ...okay, maybe it would, but no one would miss it! All the inhabitants of the island had been vapourised along with it, after all. \n\nVel'Koz watched as the stars remained a static image in the sky, taunting him with their immovability. Vel'Koz growled, and sent a beam of entangled particles the way of the nearest star. He'd witness the aftermath of its collapse some 100 or so light years later, when its dying light reached his slimy eyeball. Served it right, for twinkling so aggravatingly. \n\nPresently he noticed a small land mass hurtle in his direction. Curious, he wondered, studying the brownish rock. A sample of the geodiversity of... Vel'Koz scanned his databases. Earth. Hm. He'd always wanted to destroy Earth. He flicked a tentacle carelessly at the rock, suspending it in front of him (which, of course, meant giving it the same velocity relative to the space around him) and stared at it until it began to disintegrate. It was harder to deconstruct inorganic material. But what was that? From out of the corner of his eye Vel'Koz noticed a strange lump of ice float away from the bits of rock he'd left intact. A... human arm? \n\nAnd then from the depths of space, the cries came faintly to him, air that should not exist expelled from lungs that never emptied. What was that? It sounded like a human, but surely no earthling could be alive here in the depths of space. Vel'Koz adjusted his course slightly, tilting the vector of his velocity. He could just about manage to do that, what with these deconstruction-proof shackles around his K'a. \n\nSoon the humanoid-thing came into vision. \"I am Kars,\" it muttered to itself in a stupor. \"I am the perfect lifeform. I am indestructible.\" \n\nPoor thing, Vel'Koz thought. It's mad. He readied his deconstruction beam, sending strange gluons to coalesce before his eye. I will take pleasure in destroying it anyway. \n\nAnd then the beam hit the earthling, and the earthling absorbed it. If he'd had a spine, Vel'Koz would have felt it freeze. Such power, he thought, rattled to the core-so rattled, in fact, that he felt the shackles around his K'a jingle a little. That was strange. They were supposed to be unmovable.\n\nThe the human spun to face him. \"I am Kars,\" he whimpered. \"The ultimate life form. I am immortal. I am indestructible. I am undefeated.\"\n\n\"What are you doing out here in the depths of space, then?\" Vel'Koz queried, sardonically, as the human's visage twisted before his eye. So it hadn't been completely obliterated by a beam of pure chaos, but it had somehow been cast off from its home world by something-someone more powerful than it?\n\n\"You don't understand,\" Kars wailed. \"It was Joseph Joestar. He knew my every move, he dodged everything, he even read my mind... Joseph Joestar is a god! Woe be to all who challenge him!\"",
"Dimly, through the foam and the plastic, through two inches of welded steel and 2 feet of curved titanium, Val'nor could hear a countdown. And he could hear cheers.\n\nFive.. Four..\n\nSuspended in the darkness, Val'nor reflected on his time inhabiting Earth and tried to figure out where he'd gone wrong. The people were fed; trade and wealth flowed freely, and human governments had been unified in the short few centuries of habitation.\n\nTwo..\n\nPerhaps he had allowed them too much knowledge. Perhaps learning of his immortality, tracing back along his long lineage they had uncovered the magnitude of his influence on human history, and plotted to remove him for good.\n\nHe felt a powerful rumble. A sudden roar and intense pressure pushing him into his restraints. Moments of intense heat, and a transition to weightlessness.\n\nIn space he drifted and contemplated his existence, reliving every last detail of his experience on earth. Centuries passed, his only companion the music of the particles playing against the walls of his vessel and the occasional percussion of larger rocks.\n\nFor a time uncounted he waited, and Gradually Val'nor's prison fell apart. His skin was exposed to the symphony of space and he felt a growing detachment, an abandonment of identity, and his mind left him.\n\nAs his body drifted through space, his consciousness came intermittently to visit, and in time noticed a distant, dimly felt presence in the void. As he began to fall into the gravitational pull of the black hole, he could noticed small occlusions against he darkness of the abyss, smudges of light and color which drew larger as he was gradually pulled in.\n\nThe ages passed, and Val'nor's orbit eventually intersected with the distant passage of another's. Reaching out and away from his body, their minds made contact and he became aware of a large network of minds linked across the vast expanses of the black hole's gravitational field.\n\n*Welcome Val'nor*, the mind pronounced. *Do you dedicate your consciousness to the collective?*\n\nWith Val’nors assent, he was joined.\n\nHis consciousness, bound to the collective, would be dedicated to the simple pursuit of a simple goal. To find a way to die",
"Frozen solid. Immobile. Hurtling through the stardusted nothing.\n\nThe spark inside my chest was far too slight to thaw my body. Yet it kept me conscious. Aware. Alive. Cursed to feel and think in a place with nothing worth feeling, nothing worth thinking about.\n\nForever.\n\nI wasted ages wishing I had closed my eyes before the blackness froze them open. Then I could have slept, dreamed, maybe even forgotten. Then I wouldn't have been forced to gaze upon the terrible immensity of it all.\n\nTerrible as my punishment. Immense as my loneliness.\n\nI thought I was hallucinating when the ship sailed into view. I did not feel the netting touch my skin. But inside were lights and human faces, peering down at me, talking.\n\nI lay in the Convalescence Ward for three days. Thawing, dripping. The moderate heat of the room must have seemed extreme to my subconscious, because when I dozed I dreamed I was a block of ice, floating closer to a bloodred sun. When I awoke, a bearded ancient loomed.\n\n\"You're nearly thawed,\" the old man said. \"But I recommend you don't try to move. Not yet. Your cells are enlarged. Your body is desiccated. Traumatized. Even immortals take time to heal after a deep freeze.\"\n\nMy mouth was putty. My voice, a foreign instrument. I had not spoken in thousands of years. Spit bubbled at my lips when I tried.\n\n\"There will be time,\" he said. \"An endless stretch. Don't worry. Right now you don't need conversation. You need rest. Recovery. Sleep.\"\n\n\"Who?\" I managed to rasp.\n\n\"We are like you,\" the old man said. \"Banished eternals. Cast into outer darkness by our friends, families, fellow citizens. Lost. . .and then found. Given new life. New purpose. Gathered together to achieve what only immortals can. We deathless ones, who can venture into unknown regions without fear, who can wrestle with fatal terrors and escape unscathed.\"\n\n\"Where?\"\n\n\"Our ship's destination?\" he asked. \"A place that represents the culmination of our technological development. The crowning glory of our race. Some call it the Grand Laboratory. Others call it Dyson Sphere 114. But most call it the Cosmoport. We arrive in forty-nine hours. Until then, sleep.\""
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[WP] You and your friends missed the apocalypse because you were in your basement playing D&D. Now you're stuck surviving with these people, and most of them are staying in character.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"(I don’t know much about DND, but I can keep the staying in character bit!)\n\n“Samantha. Samantha.” He held the door with all his might, the people on the other end having already turned. Karl paid close attention to the hands that stuck out, disgusting and starting to rot, attempting to poke my flesh. “We are going to die. Please, stop, and grab the gun.”\n\n“Whom, dasterly pickled fellow?”\n\n“Now is not the time.”\n\nThe gun case was located 20 feet away, in the utility room. That other exit was blocked, due to disuse; we barricaded it to make room for his Nana’s knicknacks.\n\nA thought popped in, “Nana, please!”\n\n“It’s Bartholomew the Buff. Now boy! Speak with proper manner to your savior.”\n\n“Please, Nana, snap out of it! You don’t need to be in character anymore.\n\n“Thine tis no Nana you speak of,” His girlfriend said, stroking her nonexistent beard. Meanwhile, his 86 year old grandma was flexing in front of the ancient mirror. “Thou heaps trouble, young fellow; do thy require guidance?”\n\nThe door nearly fell. “Yes! Yes, please old wizard!”\n\nHis apparently ancient wizard girlfriend stood up, fiddling her hands in the air. With a murmuring cry, she threw glitter into the air; it landed on poor Bartholomew, who sneezed.\n\nManly.\n\nHis grandma, bless her strength, picked up the mirror- a dense, antique, and slammed it against the door, cracking the glass crisp down the middle.\n\n“Ahaha!” The Buff cried. “Now that should hold them!”\n\n“Bart, that isn’t enough.” He puffed out. “More weight. I’m dying. Please just get the gun.”\n\nMore glitter sprinkled his eyes, blinding his eyes, and his hopes for humanity. Karl held his breath, mainly to keep himself from choking.\n\nIn less than a second, the banging ceased.\n\n“Ahaha! Bartholomew wins! See now, boy! The greatest I possess inside, to protect the world from devastation!”\n\n“Nana,” He would only say this once, between his breath and the death threat he’d swear upon her if he heard her continue. “If you quote Pokemon one more time, as a ‘buff man’ while you flex, I am-“\n\nHis girlfriend, breaking character for a second, jumped with glee. Her wizard hat nearly falling off.\n\n“Samantha?”\n\nTheir eyes meet; she corrects her hat. The old wizard composed, his eyes twinkling.\n\n“Harry, did you-“\n\n“I swear to god, if your name is Dumbledore-“\n\n“False accusations have been made; thine is fallowed breath.”\n\nHe, in all attempts of the word, was done; putting back on his cowboy hat, he walked over to the gun case, and then back; sitting down, with his girlfriend and Nana, at a generic tabletop rip-off, with all his windows and doors boarded shut, continued his game.\n\n“Howdy, folks! Sorry for the intrusion, Henry’s back y’all.”"
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[WP] You are a starving human trapped on an alien world. Although you’re currently in the most well-off city on the planet and food is available in droves, none of it is anything you as a human can actually eat...
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Death is an inevitability, no matter how you try and preserve or maintain something, the natural laws of our universe dictate that it will degrade and eventually cease. As an inquisitive mind, I tried to see if this was always the case. Perhaps, if in our universe it's the fate of all matter to tend towards entropy and inexistence, then there may be another where perpetuity is the basis of reality. \n\n \nIt must've been some cruel twist of fate that the first time I tore reality asunder to seek a plane of eternal existence I found it. An endless citadel filled with life and technological wonders beyond my comprehension, utilizing laws of physics that simply didn't exist. Enraptured in its beauty I found myself pulled into it. The powers that rule this purgatory quickly found me and questioned me. Quite how they did it is beyond me, but within minutes of our meeting, they were conversing in my tongue with almost divine grace. They left me to my own devices, letting me know I can have anything I want here, and that language shouldn't be a barrier. I thanked them, unaware of the hell that lay before me.\n\n \nAfter the initial luster of the city wore off of me, I started asking questions. Does energy tend toward entropy here? No, you could put your hand against a block of ice, or a heated stone, and unless certain conditions are met the temperature of your hand will remain unaffected. How does my body still work even if the rules of this universe contradict the one for which my physiology was built? It seems that intent affects most things in this universe. Unraveling cloth entirely with the mind is possible. It is my current hypothesis that the reason my body still works is that I am willing to. It is possible that my biological maintenance is being ensured by my subconscious. \n\n \nSoon my biggest question was where can I find food. With the technology present here, even if the beings present in this universe didn't need it, synthesizing food should be possible. That's when I found an unexpected difference between home and this realm. Carbon does not exist here. It is impossible to produce an edible substance. \n\n \nI should've brought some with me, in my lungs and flesh, but it would seem that my body was changed when crossing realities. At a glance, I might look similar, but the chemical compounds, even the subatomic particles that make me, are entirely different. I shouldn't be constrained to a life of endless consumption with my new form, but much of the rules of this reality are determined by the mind. Now the same subconscious that keeps me in one piece, demands food with an unbearable roar. I'm shackled by it, a gnawing hunger driving me mad that won't be satiated with anything that exists here. I've tried killing myself, but the laws of perpetuity in place here prevent such an action. I've tried rending reality asunder to escape to a more mortal place, but the loopholes which allowed such actions in my home aren't present here. I can do nothing but exist and hunger."
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[WP] A Being of immense power and appetite has grown to galactic size through consuming whole planets. After eons, not one planet has, after due consideration of its cosmological course, has been spared from Its ruin. Earth, however, has something that makes It reconsider devouring it.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"To say that the Earth stood still might sound a little dramatic, but I'm pretty sure the thing actually grabbed the Earth and stopped its orbit. I don't know what it was, no one did, scientist practically orgasmed and pissed themselves at the same time when it appeared: A gangly, tentacled beast bigger than the damn planet. Upon arrival, it spoke to all of us at once through some form of telepathy. \n\n*Bear witness to me you small, insignificant things!* The voice boomed in our heads as its body imposed itself over the globe. *I've come to clobber and gobble this planet straight to its milky, molten marrow! My appetite is great, and my power greater! But In all this mass of awesomeness, I am not unjust, and thus give each one of you the chance to make me reconsider! You have twenty-four hours!*\n\nHow the thing knew English or our time metrics were some of the many questions that got ran over by the fact that there was a fucking planet-eating god in the sky. The hours following the announcement were chaotic as hell, governments scrambled for ideas and citizens dashed about the planet like ants sprayed by water -- it was nuts. \n\nMe, what was I doing? My ass was getting down to the godamn grass and making shit move! I put on my shades and awaited what I knew was my fucking destiny, to save the earth from Space Godzilla by entrancing him in our *truest* form of high-minded culture: A game of Wii Sports Tenis. Oh ya, the good shit, not a human on this earth could play that game and not cut an innocent smile. \n\nWhen the time came, and everyone was panicking and screaming for mercy, I was slouched on my couch with Doritos and Wii controllers firmly in hand. I had already made my living room into a garden of human culture by putting up LED strip lights and trippy tapestries, the real good shit. So when his booming voice invaded my mind, I was higher than a fucking kite and ready to godamn rumble. \n\n*You Human!* *You insignificant small, swine! A grain of Salt to the Swamp of Stars! What have you to offer for your race, your kin are already failing by the millions!*\n\n\"Get your fucking ass down here boyo! We go some business to handle.\" I stylishly opted to pronounce the word 'business' as 'bi-ness.' A real gem of language. \n\n*W-What.* \n\n\"You fucking heard me Squidward. I need you down here so I can whoop your ass at some tennis!\"\n\n*You... I need to be down there?* Before I knew it, a woman showed up at my door with a fucking alien octopus over her face. *Is this okay?* The voice asked nervously.\n\n\"Personally I would've picked a more physically imposing specimen, but I suppose th-\" I accidentally let out an outrageous burp, couldn't hold it in. A real dinger of one too. \"Ah fuck, it's game time Squidward.\"\n\n*S... Squidward?*\n\nOne thing led to another, and before I could blink we were tits deep in our tenth game. \"Are you kidding me! I didn't swing that way!\" I shouted in between the toke of a joint and waiting for the next volley. \"Cheater is what you are!\"\n\n*Jesus christ what is this stuff?* He said after putting the joint into a strange orifice of the face octopus. \n\n\"Fucking grass dog, real human shit is what it is.\"\n\nBy the end of the night, we ran through all my hash and all of my Doritos. Not only that, but we were also out of Wii controller battries, the greatest of human tragedies. \"Ahh shit man, looks like that's the end of it.\"\n\n*Oh, that's alright.* The alien said. *I've already decided to spare your planet. This was a really fun time, I've never seen anything like this.*\n\n\"Heh, well, I'm a bit of a culture Guru,\" I said with complete honesty and pride. \n\n*I can see, you've really saved your planet here.* \n\n\"Thanks, man, I'm glad you decided to leave us alone.\"\n\n*Alone? Oh hell no.*\n\n\"Wh... What do you mean, hell no?\"\n\n*Oh hell no, this was way too fun. I'm going to leave quickly and go get my friends.*\n\n\"... I'm going to need more batteries.\"\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nIf you liked the story consider stopping by my new subreddit! r/mrsharks202\r \n\r \nThanks!"
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[WP] After dying, you find yourself in a clean office with a single person pressing keys behind a monitor. When they notice you, they say: "Oh, no, not you again!"
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"“Yes, me again! Has he changed his mind?”\r \nThe woman behind the desk looked up at me, disdain clouding her composed demeanour as she looked at the hole in the side of my head. “We have had this conversation; how many times is it now? Forty, fifty? It appears as I said last time, that you are either incredibly stupid or incredibly foolish. I am at a loss as to suggest which one is truer”.\r \nLaughing I continued to look at her. In life, my humour had been both misplaced and ill-advised. It appeared that it was the same in this realm too.\r \n“Ah, but you did say it was always worth a try.”\r \n“I think you can remember that I said no such thing, I said, as noted in the document E/53, that you had made your choice and you had to live with it- quite literally”.\r \n“So, is there no hope? Won't he reconsider?” I enquired imploringly. It was her turn to laugh. “There are no takebacks with the devil’s deals”.",
"I went against the thundering skies, being bathed in fire, wind and lightning. \nI struggled, and went against the natural order of life itself...and failed. \nI died once more, half a step away from greatness. \nMy body charred, cut, and burnt to ashes, spread across the realms. \nNothing unexpected, everything happened sadly, as it was foretold. \nWhen I came to myself, I was in the office once more. \nIts pristine white walls, and simplicity brought calmness to those that arrive. \nJust two chairs, a computer, and a desk were present in the room, as furniture. \nI sat down, and listened to the white noise, that was the sound of someone typing at a mechanical keyboard. \nI relaxed, something that I haven't done in centuries...it was peaceful. \nAfter a few minutes, the figure that was typing, finally looked away from the screen. \n\"So let's see who you... Oh, no, nope, no, no, not you again! I am not dealing with your paperwork! \nThe figure said. \n\"Hello Matilda, as always, it's a pleasure to see you\" \nI said, smiling. \n\"Pleasure for you, because you know that you get reincarnated! While I am stuck filling out all your previous lives information! It's already over a hundred billion words, and each of your life is longer than the previous! \nIt takes me centuries just to finish your paperwork, and I am left with a tremendous backlog! \nMatilda vented, shaking angrily. \n\"Matilda, not my fault my fate is intertwined with the fate of the Reincarnation Path, thus I am allowed to reincarnate endless as a cultivator\" \nI said, shrugging. \n\"Endlessly reincarnating is normal! But you not only retain your memories, but also reincarnate as a nobleman in a cultivation realm, living for at least tens of thousand of years, making my job, as hellish as it gets!!\" \nShe said, slumping powerlessly on her chair. \n\"That's how fate played its cards, we can't do anything against it\" \nI said, shrugging. \n\"Indeed... Well, at least you are the best looking fella I get to see. Making a good eye candy, at least it makes my time more or less worth\" \nShe said, staring at me, making sure my appearance is burnt in her memory, though I doubt she can ever forget me, as I am a regular of hers. \n\"Now, can I get the information on my next life, then the form I need to fill to be reincarnated? \nI asked, smiling. \n\"One second, annoying handsome fella\" \nShe said, while typing at her computer. \nA minute later, a folder was teleported on her table, which she proceeded to read. \nShe read, and read, until a creepy smirk appeared on her face, before turning into an angry one. \n\"No way... Haaah... Take it\" \nShe said, handing the folder to me. \nI opened it, and started reading it. \n\"Heir of the very first Immortal Clan, in a Divine Realm. Above average talent, no contenders, as the clan is a hidden hermit one. Will develop slowly, and after a hundred thousand years, the individual will tower upon most of the same generation in the Divine Realm. \nAfter another a hundred thousand years, the individual will achieve the peak of a Divine Realm, and will start roaming the multiverse, and the space-time river. \nThe individual will be immortal for roughly ten million years, before perishing while trying to achieve the last level of cultivation. \nThe individual will be heirless, and alone their entire lives, having a lot of friends, saviours, and saved ones, but no close family.\" \nThe file in the folder read. \n\"This is actually the best, I failed becoming an immortal, that's how i died last time, now I will actually succeed, and even almost make it to the next step. \nMaybe if I am lucky enough, I will actually take the step, and break fate itself!\" \nI said, being so happy I wanted to jump up, and hug Matilda. \n\"\\*Sigh\\*, almost no chances, little fellow, but good luck with that. Here fill this form for reincarnation.\" \nShe said. \n\"Why are you so weird?\" \nI asked, while signing the form, being ready to be reincarnated at any moment now. \n\"I thought finally you can become a true immortal, and stop being reincarnated... But this next life of yours will give me more work, than all the previous ones combined.\" \nShe said, being dejected. \n\"And here I thought your remembered my promise, that once I am truly eternal, I will marry you.\" \nI said, while standing up, and closing up on Matilda. \nShe blushed, then flashed a brilliant smile, while pushing a button. \nWhite light filled the white room, while I was getting reincarnated. \nBefore my last shred of will got reincarnated in the new body, I heard a whisper. \n\"I will be waiting.\" \nWith that, I smiled, and left myself be reincarnated completely, being ready to work hard to keep my promise."
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[WP] After the galactic war you start studying the speeches meant to inspire troops. Most are the usual boasts of glory, or lying about chances. You come across the human speech for the war’s major turning point. For some reason they admit that most of them won’t survive, and only take volunteers.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"What are you reading?\" My colleague couldn't help but inquire over my shoulder.\n\n\"What speech rallied the humans that fought in the Alpha Centauri orbital skirmish.\"\n\n\"No way! I heard they were drugging up entire legions of boarding parties and trained thousands of pilots to fly the enemies ships out of there.\"\n\nI shook my head. And started to read.\n\n\"Admiral Wursten, Galactic cycle 7832. Local Human calendar, 2674.\" It took a few minutes to explain how short human years are after some other confusion on the age of human spacefaring technologies.\n\n\"Admiral Wursten: Soldiers! Today is not the day I tell you good news. It's not the day we can drink and be merry. We are outnumbered, outmanned, and outgunned. The enemy is at Humanities doorstep! And we, we alone are the thin veil of protection before support arrives to Earth. I will not bring any of you along that do not wish to fight. One FTL capable ship is sanctioned for enough passage to carry those that wish not to volunteer. To lay down your life in the name of our species. I hold no animocity toward you for wishing to survive. To live on.\"\n\n I looked up at my colleague, who was enraptured by this point with both confusion and fear, like I was reading a child one of those horror stories about deathworld crash landings.\n\n I continued reading. \"For us to fight, others may live on and I won't sugarcoat any of it, that's *only* if we succeed here, on this final front! Say not goodbye to your loved ones, but greet their futures with everything you've got! Here! Now! And we go. Down. Fighting!\"\n\nMy breath was gone as my volume increased with the last few parts. \"It says not a single soldier accepted the chance to back down, and the majority actually ended up surviving. Oh! And they were even able to send messages home before the final confrontation where they in fact turned the tide of the war with that defensive.\" My colleague and I looked at the data tablet. Some of the messages could even be seen as the families put them into permanent record to remember their loved ones bravery.\n\n\"Well, let's look at them!\" He exclaimed, and in my own excitement I selected the first one I could find.\n\n[Final Goodbye from Alpha Centauri Defense Fleet Member](https://youtu.be/DLzxrzFCyOs)"
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[WP] A werewolf attempts to take down some big game while transformed and fails. The sunrises and now the game is hunting them as a human in retaliation while they’re injured.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"I told you so\" James uttered the most annoying phrase in any human language. \n\n\"Shut up and lend a hand, can't ya?\" I wanted to toss him into the nearest swamp, but right now a bit too busy staying alive. Ray rolled his eyes at the pair of us. \n\n\"You just stay in the cellar\" he suggested sensibly \"it's an animal, it'll give up once it loses your scent\"\n\n \"Sure about that?\"\n\n\"The cellar will hide your scent-\"\n\n\"I mean, sure it is an animal?\" \n\nRay paused for an instant. \n\n\"Better hope it is\" James commented, earning an elbow in the ribs from Ray. \n\n\"Wendigos aren't all that methodical. Just driven by hunger. If it hunts long enough without getting at you, it's gonna go after easier lunch\"\n\n\"It isn't lunch it's after\"James pointed out \"He bit off its tail\"\n\n\"I thought it was a bear!\"\n\n \"Just get into the cellar\" Ray's tone was one of a long suffering babysitter. \"Well keep watch out here.\"\n\n As the cellar door closed, I heard one of them mutter \"Of all the things he could have hunted, he had to go after the only one that could hunt him back \" \n\nWell, no one said werebeasts have good survival instincts.",
"##Fur and Scales\n\nI wake up on the floor of my living with pain all over my body. I push up slowly and walk over to the counter to get some Tylenol. Inspecting my body, I see no obvious cuts or wounds, but that doesn't meant there isn't internal bleeding. On the table, there is one word carved.\n\nRun\n\nI sigh, and I just bought that table. He could at least use a pen. I take out my phone and order an Uber away from my apartment. If I am going to be attacked, it will not be in my apartment. The Uber is ten minutes away, and I use the time to try to remember what happened.\n\nIn the freezer, I have a pack of hot dogs. The meat smell activates the sensory memories of being a wolf. The rush of water fills my ears. The meat smell is replaced by garbage. I feel pressure all over my body, and I can faintly see scales. \n\nI try to remember a bit longer, but I get a text saying the Uber has arrived. I shrug and limp down the steps to the car. If the creature is aquatic, they might not be able to make it to my apartment. Granted, I have no idea what they are capable of. I may as well move inland.\n\n\"Hey, sorry, I am going to need to change my destination,\" I say as I get in the car. I pick a random address in the city away from water. The driver does not respond and starts driving.\n\n\"Bro, did you hear me? I said I am going somewhere else,\" I look at the GPS to see that he is deviating from the original path. I sink into my seat. It was only a matter of time until he attacked something that had magical powers. I can only hope that whoever he attacked will listen to reason and be empathetic.\n\nWe drive out of the city following the river for an hour. I spend the drive watching random videos to keep calm. The car abruptly stops mid video. I look outside the window to see something standing in the river.\n\nI get out of the river to approach the figure. The top half of the being is human with long claws instead of hands. The head has three fins that are raised as I approach yet gradually lower. The face has two small eyes and a massive amount of teeth. The lower half of the creature is composed of tentacles. When I reach the edge of the river, the creature opens its mouth.\n\n\"I am so glad you could come Zach,\" the creature says in a slight growl.\n\n\"First, I am really sorry for what I did as a wolf. I don't know why he does what he does,\" I say.\n\n\"I don't want a generic speech. I have questions. First, does your wolf counterpart have a name?\"\n\n\"No,\" I yell. I back away, \"I am sorry for being abrupt. No, he doesn't have a name.\"\n\n\"He clearly has sentience enough to operate against your wishes. Why have you not named him?\" the creature turns its head.\n\n\"Well, I don't know,\" I rub the back of my head, \"He is just me as a wolf.\"\n\n\"So it would be reasonable to punish you for doing this,\" the creature holds up one of its hind tentacles which has been torn in half, \"If he is just you in wolf form, then you would be accountable for his actions.\"\n\n\"Alright fine, I don't want to name him because he scares me. You are not the first creature that has tried to kill me for what he has done,\" a tear falls off my face.\n\n\"Yes, I expected such. Last night, I was swimming in my river when he attacked me. I recognized a werewolf, and I always feel pity for them,\" the creature holds out its hand, \"Would you like me to rid you of him?\"\n\nI step back, \"You can do that?\"\n\n\"Yes, it is quite simple actually,\" it says. I look back at the Uber driver sitting in the car. The creature clearly has magic. I walk over to the creature. It snaps at me and wraps its arms and tentacles around me. I struggle to break free as it drags me into the leg emitting horrifying screams of glee.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" I mutter as I get dragged into the river.\n\n\"I said I would rid you of the werewolf. I never said how,\" it cackles as it carries me deep into the river.\n\n---\n\nr/AstroRideWrites"
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[WP] You are a shapeshifter. You can change your form to look like anyone. But you don't remember who you were originally.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Jeremy didn’t smile when he sat next to his dad for dinner. Even when he tore into the fried chicken, the crispy exterior giving way to the warm and juicy inside, the savory amora assaulting his nostrils, Jeremy’s face was expressionless. Jeremy’s dad stared at his son. He made a motion to speak, but stopped midway, instead focusing his attention on his phone. Contrary to his son, the dad struggled to eat. Jeremy gulped down his meal in record time. He was about to leave the dining table until his dad called to him. The voice was timid and tired, barely louder than a whisper. \n\t\n“Jeremy, can we talk about what happened?”\n\t\nJeremy’s stomach churned. A conversation the two knew would happen eventually, one that Jeremy made every attempt to avoid, was about to begin. One part of himself wanted to run upstairs, to pretend that he didn’t hear what his father had said. The other side, his more mature eight-year-old self, sat down to listen to what his father had to said. \n\t\n“Now, Jeremy, about your mom…”\n\t\nBefore the father could speak, the front door of the lonely household opened. A woman with dark hair wearing a scarlet dress appeared. With her presence came the sun, which illuminated Jeremy and his father. Her smile burned through the rust and dirt present throughout the house. Her hazel eyes melted that dust which resided within. Jeremy’s face beamed at the sight of her. \n\t\n“Mom…you’re home.” He rushed towards her and the two embraced. Tears danced in Jeremy’s eyes as the woman caressed his hair. The darkness residing in the poor boy leaked out with each motherly touch. \nThe father glared at her. He said something inside his head, but what little courage he earlier possessed disappeared. All he could do now was stare at mother and son as they ate together, laughing and yelling. \n\t\nJeremy went to bed early that night much to his displeasure. Husband and wife sat across from each other at the kitchen table. The woman smiled at him. The father refused to return it. \n\t\n“How was your day at work, dear?” said the woman. Her eyes tried to subtract the distance between them. The dad said nothing. \n\t\n“Did you have a bad day, dear?” Again, the dad said nothing. \n\t\n“Are you…” The woman was about to finish before the dad cut her off. \n\t\n“Who are you?” The woman looked at him with surprise. \n\t\n“Don’t be silly, Harold. I’m your wife, Nicole.” \n\t\n“Don’t blame games with me.” The dad slammed his fist on the table. “There’s no way you could be her. Too much time has passed.”\n\t\n“But I’ve only been gone for a day, Harold. What’s the matter with you?” Her confused expression transformed into one of worry. \n\t\n“I said don’t play games with me. You…whatever the hell you are. What type of monster are you?”\n\t\n“What are you trying to…” \n\n“LOOK HERE.” The dad pulled out his phone. The image displayed on the screen showed a hospital room. There were only two people in the room. One knelt on the floor, sniveling and quivering, full of emotion. The other, who laid on a bed while draped in tubes, had no emotion at all. Eyes closed, skin pale, not like the lady before him. \n\n“Don’t play games with me monster.” The dad lost the aggression in his voice, returning to a more somber tone. \n“Please, just leave.”\n\nThe lady looked at him with an equally sad expression. Whatever words she could use to explain herself, none could ever convince the man before him. In a past life, she would have known this.\n\n“Fine, I’ll go.” The lady walked to the door. She stopped before opening it, taking one last look at the man who could make her a mother. \n“Can I at least kiss Jeremy goodnight?” The dad, slumped in the corner of the room, nodded.\nThe lady walked into Jeremy’s room. He was fast asleep. She crept up to his bed, bent down and with her cold, dry lips planted a kiss on the boy’s forehead. \n\nThen she left. It wasn’t the first time she had to leave, but the pain was always the same. She could never grow accustomed to losing herself. The sky cried as she stepped outside the house, the house that for just a few hours was hers. She walked, and walked, stopped, and walked some more. Each step felt like a mile. Her red dress was soaked. Then she saw him. A little dog laid on the road unmoving. A Pomeranian whose white fur was drenched in red. She went up to the dog and placed her fingers on its back. The hairs on her skin began to grow, her nose bulged, her ears enlarged, her stature decreased. She waited on the sidewalk until a little girl with ponytails ran up to her. The girl picked up the dog, her tearful eyes reminding the creature of a life once lived. Soon the dog would be a part of a new house and a new family. They ran together, girl and dog racing towards a brand new world.",
"He jerked his head up from the toilet, confident the last of the dry heaves had passed. He wiped away the tears streaming down his cheeks and spit the last of what had gathered in his mouth into the bowl. He flushed and stumbled to the sink, propping his shaky arms up against the edge of the porcelain. \n\nHe looked up to see the face staring back at him. Jaundice with bloodshot eyes. Slick, black hair matted to his forehead with sweat. Stubble on his cheeks, chin and neck outlining a paltry figure. The face of a man named Rick. An amateur musician. Heroin addict. Loathsome creature. Anonymous.\n\nHe stumbled from the bathroom into the dimly lit hallway, lined with archaic punk rock posters, floor littered with paraphernalia. The choppy music pulsed louder and louder as Rick approached the end of the hallway that led to the theater. Ahead, sweaty misfits bounced into each other in a brief moment of ecstasy, a dot on the map of the difficult existence as an outcast. Rick grumbled as he focused on the music. Terrible sounds. But safe sounds, indeed.\n\nHe pushed the bar on the exit door and kicked it open, squinting into the blinding light that enveloped him from the alley. He spotted a prostitute down the way a bit, asleep on the damp pavement, breathing lightly. He knelt down and stared at her, getting a good look. He dug through her purse and found a few bucks, some heroin, and a few condoms. '*Good for her'*, he thought, '*Safety first.*' He kept digging and uncovered a drivers license. Susie Bennett. 31. Boston. '*Good enough.*' he thought.\n\nHe looked left and right making sure he was alone. Not many others frequented places like this. That's what made them perfect.\n\nHe focused and groaned. His hands began to shrink, the hair from his legs and arms receding. The hair on his head changed colors from brown to blonde and grew to shoulder length. His breasts bulged and his genitals changed shape. His lips became fuller and his nose thinner. He became a she. He became Susie Bennett. 31. Boston. An exact replica of the woman asleep in front of him. A perfect match of an outcast that nobody would miss, that nobody would recognize, that nobody would know has a double.\n\nShe stared at Susie, jealous of her. Jealous that she had a past. That she had parents or friends or family that she once knew, even if she didn't keep in touch with them now. Jealous that she knew where she came from. She sighed, removing Rick's loose clothing and replacing them with Susie's.\n\nShe stood and walked from the alley. She struggled in her heels but got the hang of it quickly. She started walking north on Broadway, though direction didn't matter much. She'd spend a few days as Susie then assume the shape of the next lowlife, careful not to attract any attention.\n\nAs she walked she wondered how many forms she'd taken before. She'd lost count at this point. She wondered how long she's been alive, or where she came from, or who she was originally. \n\nShe wondered if there were others like her.",
"Broken... broken pieces of a vase scatter like suns on the floor. Broken promises, broken dreams crushed and thrown away.\n\nBroken men, with broken wings, bent and wilt. Broken identities, forgotten, forsaken.. \n\n*Who am I?*\n\nCountless faces I have seen in the mirror on the wall, countless minds I have thought through, countless nights I have lied awake, praying to be set free from this prison of false selves. I stare now into changing eyes not my own, and I see tears running down a stranger's cheeks.\n\n*Who am I? Please, who am I?*\n\nI have lived countless lives, worn countless faces, so that they all blend into a horrific amalgam of lies I've told myself. \n\nMy name isn't Abby, or Jason, or Kai. My hair isn't golden, or fiery red, or ashen black. My eyes aren't blue, or green, or hazel. Or are they? Do I dare say I know? Can I... feel my original self anymore?\n\n*Who am I? Who, what, when, where was I? Please, for god's sake, who AM I, PLEASE?*\n\nI am lost. Lost in a hurricane of faces, staring, accusing, swirling around a guilty mind. A mind that has for so long been of someone else's, it no longer knows how to think without its façade.\n\nThe voices of all I have been whisper in my ears. Oh so loud, so painful, so true. They echo in the empty nothingness that I am without the lie, and demand that I remember myself.\n\nBut what is there to remember? Fragmented and forgotten, I cannot bring my life to my mind. I do not recall my name, or my favourite colour. I am lost, lost, lost. I do not know who I am.\n\n*Who am I? I beg of you! Release me from this monstrous dream, tell me my name! I do not remember, I do not recall, but please, cease my punishment, please, not any more!* \n\nI cry and howl and plea, but no-one seems to bat an eye. Save me from myself. Save me from the voices, the faces, the whispers. Please, save me. I live for your acceptance, I die of your shame, please, save me. Name me.\n\n*Who am I? Who was I? Who could I have been? Please, all I ask is a name, if only just a more convincing lie! I cannot live without name, for name gives me soul. I beg you, make me beautiful, please, make me whole.* \n\nI only wish I could finally die, but I fear that death is the most mortal truth of all. The crack that expands and breaks the lying mirror, the wind that pushes the clouds to reveal an unforgiving sun. Death is truth, and I fear truth. I have lived in lies for so long, that truth feels empty, meaningless. Just like me.\n\nDo not give me truth. I only ask for a lie I can live with.\n\n*Who am I? And why? And do I belong? Riddle me this, and name me, please! I only ask for a self I hide behind, only an eye I can gaze upon until I die.*\n\nOffer me this, end my agony. Seal closed my veil of lies and throw away the key, and let me die in peace.\n\nI no longer want to know who I was. I can be who you want me to be. Only name the façade, name the empty man underneath, and spare my life for a lifetime longer.\n\nDon't tell me who I am. Tell me who I should be. Wipe my falsehood off the sheet and start with blank white paper. Spare me. Save me. Break me apart and build me again. Forever and ever again, until I have forgotten my questions. Until the lie cements as truth. Until the dread and hate and pain hide away from the brightness of the lies.\n\nUntil all can be well... restart the cycle... end me. *Please.*",
"“That’s not it.” “That’s not it.” “Nope.” “Dammit!” I vocalize my inner thoughts as I hopelessly shift faces and forms in the thin motel mirror. “God dammit! I’m never going to figure it out!” I frustratedly say between clenched teeth as I push my closed fists harder into the desk beneath me. I’d been at it for days. Standing in front of this mirror, shifting between faces trying to have some semblance of remembrance, something, anything from these stranger’s faces that reminds me of my original self. An eye color, a bump on the nose, a scar, just something to make me think I have my original face saved on file in my mind. I just need a sliver of hope to get me out of this hole I’ve dug myself. \n\nMy memories are filled with foggy faces and muffled voices and are likely muddled with untrue stories that I’ve added to my backlog of backstories to convince people to trust me and relate to me. Years of being a con artist and using my abilities for greed have proven that karma does exist because now I cannot remember who I was. I look up at the mirror into unfamiliar eyes and morosely whisper “How was I supposed to know I was going to lose myself?” \n\nEmbittered and exhausted, I let my eyes and head fall, allowing the locks of another to fall around my face. “Fuck it, It’s useless.” I mutter as I grab the last whiskey bottle off the shelf. I spin the top off and chuck it across the room knowing I wouldn’t need it again. I pause before drinking and observe the clean lip of the bottle and the sloshing amber liquid inside, considering if it’s worth the painful hangover tomorrow. I hear the unfamiliar recurring voice in my head consolingly say “It’s not worth it.” And as I begin to lower the bottle, I catch a glimpse in the mirror of the unfamiliar woman staring back at me. Scowling back at her I take a liberal swig, never loosing eye contact. \n\n//\n\nThe last drop was bleak as they spun around the room staring up at the popcorn ceiling, humming a tune they usually sing to calm themselves. They’re drunk and losing control of themselves and their abilities as they shift once per rotation drifting further into the void of unknowing. They throw themselves onto the end of the unkempt motel bed. Their face resting on the edge as they attempt to focus their eyes on a shapeless stain on the wall. They continue to hum the familiar tune and as they hum their final note they close their eyes and begin to drift into a drunken sleep. They shift forms one last time before falling into unconsciousness, into the form that only appears at total release of control and thought, their original form.",
"My name is Grashin, I'm an Orc...or am I Faelin, an Elf? I don't know...I don't even remember my true gender anymore...I've worn so many faces and held so many names that I've forgotten who I really am. I know I am a spy in the employ of the mastermind known only as The Listener. He is an information broker and puppet master, ruling an empire of spy networks and pulling the strings of many puppet-kings. I hold a high rank among his spies, I have contacts everywhere on the continent, I own safehouses in nearly every kingdom. I staged a revolution so a new puppet-king could be put in place, but as I lay dying in this temple it all seems so meaningless. I was Faelin, very smart, very tactical. We initiated our initial attack but the battle wasn't progressing as it should have. I became Grashin and joined in the battle myself. I don't know where the reinforcements came from, but the enemy was much greater in number than they should have been. Once it was clear that the rebellion was doomed to fail I became Lont, a simple peasant, and I slipped away from the fight. But I was too late, I had already been wounded, apperantly fatally so. I stumbled my way to a temple, I think I worship this deity. I've infiltrated so many cults and churches that I can't even remember what god I worship. Will I pass into the realm of my god if I can't remember who I follow? Will my soul be torn and divided among the gods? What awaits me when my mind and body fail and I pass into the next life? Are the deeds I've done my own, or do they belong to the individual personas I've worn over the years? I've been whatever person was demanded by the situation: a warrior, a scholar, a revolutionary, a simple peasant...are any of these who I truly am? I ponder these individuals even though I know I don't have enough time to sift through and find the real me. My vision has become dim, I'm afraid. Is there any part of me remaining? Are all of these people me? I hear the healer tell her superior that there is nothing they can do for me. I know who I have been, but as I drift into the sleep that never ends I still don't know who I AM.",
"I am in the void again . It's a shapeless , seamless dimension swirling unpredictably in strangely mesmerizing patterns . I let in cover me , devour me as my mind plunges into its deepest , darkest corner for the faintest , slightest hint of a memory . Of the person I was, once upon a time . Before the goddess had claimed me , or rather saved me . She had granted me this blessed gift , one which I took every advantage of . I now close my eyes , or what I think my eyes are . It's hard to tell , in this abstract plane of existence . I think of her and pray , with all my devotion and faith . She appeared , in all her glorious divinity . It was hard to look at her ; soft , golden light shone from her . She didn't have a definite shape either; her form constantly shifted in a distracting blur of wildly different shapes . At the center of her form , though , a whiteness anchored her to a rigid , comprehensible structure . She finally appeared as a young androgynous human , with the sharp-cut features and black hair . I bow , the dimension shifting violently because of the movement . She tilts her head at me , asking me why I summoned her . She didn't need to speak ; her thoughts vibrated in my head . Who am I , I ask her . Decades of shape-shifting had rusted my memory of myself . With every disguise , I seem to lose myself into a part I couldn't reach . It had taken all of my concentration to attain the in-between stage of nothingness . My physical form was so far lost that the goddess was my only hope ; she must know why my identity had slipped away , trickled like water into the edge , where all my efforts wasted . You , my devotee , are my disciple . You are my child , her thoughts echoed in my mind melodiously . Who was I before that ? , I asked , struggling to not return into the physical world . Why do you wish to know ? , the goddess mused , her lip curling . I realized I didn't know why ; what would I do with it ? . Yet , a part of me craved that knowledge of myself , a person with an actual personality . I plead with the goddess . Please , I need to know . Her eyes narrowed and her thoughts now echoed in a sharp , screeching scream . You knew that the gift has consequences ; that it strips you a little every time you use it . Your abuse of it has caused this . But , your unflinching devotion has pleased me . I offer you a choice ; I can return you your identity but you lose your powers . Since you have completely stripped yourselves of all shreds of your past , I can wipe your mind . It will be a blank canvas for you ; a second birth in essence . You can start afresh , create a life you had never had . Choose wisely . I look at the goddess . I once again reach to the edge of my mind ; the place where a dark haze surrounds me viciously , blocking me from myself . I must have known the price ; what kind of life had allowed to choose this gift ? . It must have been a desperate , hollow person who made that choice . Or was it a ruthless , soulless person ? . Whoever it was , I realized , was no longer me . I look up , my choice made . The goddess seemed pleased ; she was smiling . You are wise , to let go . I smile too .",
"My house has thirteen mirrors and each one of them is covered. It didn't always used to be this way. Decades ago, the idea of having even a single one of these mirrors covered would have felt like heresy to me. Each one used to be lovingly cleaned and often I would also have smaller mirrors easily accessible so that I could more easily see myself closer up or at an angle that my larger mirrors couldn't accommodate alone. What would a transformation be without an opportunity to admire my handiwork?\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI haven't uncovered a single mirror in at least a year and even that was just a quick, fleeting glance before putting the cover straight back on. I don't want to see myself because it's never myself that I'm seeing. I don't even remember now if there was a particular inciting incident that made me realise that I don't know what I look like or if the idea just infected me subtly and slowly over years. I do remember that it didn't distress me at first. Why would I need to know what my original form was? I was born a boring humanoid of some appearance I can no longer recall and now I can be the most attractive man or woman in the world, should I care to be. I have lived alongside humans long enough to know which type form will cause a reflex of respect, endearment or lust. I can be any specific human that exists and reap the benefits of the life they had sowed. I can even spend time as an animal, though that has always been distinctly more difficult for me.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nEventually though, the lies got to me. Not directly - no, I've always found the idea of being caught more thrilling then terrifying. Every time someone has come close to realising I'm not the exact figure I say has simply prompted a surge in adrenaline. Nobody has ever fully discovered that I am an imposter in any one of my previous guises and even if they were to - what exactly would they do next? How could a mortal human even go about understanding that the person who looks \\*exactly\\* like a leading politician is somebody else entirely? And even if they were to arrest me, how would they keep hold of someone who can disappear into an ant the second their back is turned?\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe lies got to me because if you pretend to be someone else for long enough, you start forgetting who you are. This isn't something a lot of humans could understand, though some do, due to a shorter lifespan and an inability to change literally everything about themselves. I can lie almost flawlessly because as a shapeshifter I can simply will my face into projecting the correct expressions, I can create a perfect smile at a joke that disgusts me with barely any effort. I can stop myself from crying with merely a thought. After some time living in the skins of others though I realised that I wasn't certain which bits were lies and which weren't. A man offers to take me to an expensive restaurant and I say I love it there because that's what my skin would say, but find myself unable to remember if my earlier delight at being there had been real or fake. I can't remember clearly which parts of my previous lives I have loved but pretended to hate or despised but worn perfect smiles to. It all became a blur and I found myself lamenting that even my physical form was just another lie.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nToday might change all that. I climb out of bed and get showered and ready. For the first time in a while I wonder if I should at a mirror but I decide against it. I wear the same form I've worn for years. It's nobody in particular and I haven't even stolen particular features from particular people. I consider switching to a form that Zach will find more appealing in some way but decide against it, sure he'd see right through such a cheap ploy. I pull on clothes and my hair twists itself into a neat braid that I finish with a hair tie that I obviously don't really need. I head out.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nZach hadn't told me what form he'd be taking but he did tell me what table we'd be sat at. He's a woman in her late thirties, wearing casual clothing and drinking a very frothy coffee. Physically, Zach looks average at best but his casual demeanour makes him seem far more appealing than a woman twice as attractive. I find myself quite surprised that I am completely unable to tell if this feature is real or an act.\n\n\"Hi Emmy,\" he says as I sit down, \"what's up? You sounded pretty serious on the phone.\"\n\nI hadn't wanted to broach the subject of why I really wanted to talk to him until I could see him in person. It had seemed vitally important that we be able to physically see each other for this conversation but now we're both actually here, I'm unable to speak. With nobody here I can really fool I find myself nervously tapping on the table.\n\n\"Then again,\" Zach says after a few moments awkward silence, \"I guess you've always been the serious type.\"\n\n\"I have?!\" I blurt out and Zach laughs at my outburst.\n\n\"Sure. What's this really about?\"\n\n\"I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know what I look like, what I've loved, what I've hated or what memories are of me being genuine and which ones are fake. It's-\" I pause, unsure if I should finish before continuing, \"it's destroying me.\"\n\n\"I can see how that would be an issue.\" Zach nods.\n\n\"It wasn't for you?\"\n\n\"Hell no. But that's a different kettle of fish. I'm nowhere near as talented, I couldn't choose to be another person for years straight even if I wanted to. Even a single month would be a very serious challenge.\"\n\nI consider this. I hadn't really known I was special. No shapeshifter's power is at it's maximum when they first get it and I'd always just assumed that eventually everyone got to the same point I did. The idea that for some shifters there was any effort to it, no matter how small, felt foreign and bizarre.\n\n\"Anyway,\" Zach says, \"just because you don't know what you've liked in the past doesn't mean you don't know what you like now. Take that coffee you ordered. Do you like it?\"\n\nI inhale the coffee deeply and nod at him.\n\n\"There we go then. And as for appearances, what you're doing now is pretty much exactly what I'd expect adult Emmy to look like.\"\n\nThe idea that my subconscious might know what I look like had never occurred to me, the fact that it had influenced my default form these recent years was startling.\n\n\"I look the same?\" I ask with a tone approaching wonder.\n\n\"Well. You've dyed your hair.\"\n\nI have to laugh at that and it's a sudden, genuine laugh. We order a bite to eat and for the first time in a long time, I chat to somebody without lying at all.",
"It was a Wednesday, I woke up, got out and went to the bathroom. I look into the mirror, but a stranger returns the gaze. \nThough, stranger is not the right word I guess, I know who this man is, Dave Corbyn, 54, married, two kids. He lives in a small single-floor house in Atlanta, Georgia. He lived in that house for 27 years, that's longer than I have ever been in one country forget any one city or state. I know I'm not Dave but I lived his life for so long.\n\n\"Dave?\" A voice of a woman pierces through my thoughts, I of course know that voice, that was Dave's wife of 28 years, Martha. I turn towards her deep brown eyes.\n\"Trouble waking up?\" \"I'm just a bit tired, that's all.\" I should have just told everything was fine, she might get worried or worse, suspicious. \"But I'm fine really.\" She chuckles \"I'm surprised you didn't stay in bed longer.\" She wraps her arms around my head, and I can feel her lips on mine. It feels warm and comforting, like a blanket on a cold winter night. Don't enjoy yourself now,. you tell yourself, she isn't your wife. \"Well I should be heading out soon.\" She said as she leaned away from my face. She works as an English teacher in the local high-school, she has a unique love for poetry, I could tell by the many times she left a poetry book on the nightstand by her. \"Do you want some coffee first?\" I ask her, she has a puzzled look on her face \"You never make me coffee anymore, what's the occasion?\" \"Nothing special, it's just coffee.\" \" Well, go right ahead.\" \n\nI went downstairs and made some coffee for Martha, we set down and drank it together, I asked her how she slept, she answered fine and we talked about a weird dream she had, we laughed she held my hand and gave me a warm smile. Then, she headed out to work and we kissed again on the driveway. I got back in the house, drank the rest of her coffee, it was warm like her and in a color like her skin, what are you doing? Enjoying the company of a married woman. She doesn't love you but the man you're masquerading as.\n\nI went out for work, it was an uneventful day. I smiled at the people I usually smile at. And talked to the people I usually talk to. Like always, first about sports, then some politics and finally we would agree to meet up at the local bar later. \nWe went there, me and some people Dave knows from work. They drank quite a bit, they got loud and kind of annoying. I drank one tall glass of beer and nothing else, I just wanted to get home and rest. I left for home a bit early, and went through the local supermarket and picked out a can of beer. As I reached my hand to take one I couldn't help but wonder why I was buying more beer.\n\n\"Hank?\" A voice called from beside me. \"Hank Fricking Livingston.\" The man giggled, I turned to him. He was a blond man, neatly dressed and wearing sunglasses. Sunglasses, indoors and at night? \"We were all sure you were dead.\" \"Who are you?\" \"Don't fuck with me Livingston.\" The name felt familiar though I couldn't place my finger on it. The young man's expression turned from an annoyed one to one of realization. \"Oh you were medicated?.\" \"Medicated?\" \"Fried. He never discharged you, ha!\" He exclaimed. \"That is rich!\" \"What do you want from me?\" The man took a deep breath. \"You used to work for an organization called the MSF or mutant special forces.\" \"The heck?\" \"You were placed here undercover to give us the details on an arms deal between your employer, Hammer industries, and a 'person of interest', yeah let's call it that.\" I remained silent. \"The agent in charge of your operation agent Simmons, gave you two cover stories. One is an old man with a day job.\" He pointed at me. \"And the other a freshly hired executive at Hammer. He medicated you in order that day job Joe over here won't remember the details of the mission the one thing you did is to always come to this shithole to buy a can of beer at 20:33. Hank, you were stranded here for 33 years. Control thought you died in the car crash together with Simmons but that was the real Dave, DNA evidence confirmed that recently. You were a field agent, Hank 'Snakeskin' Livingston, a high-class shapeshifter. Welcome home Hank.\"\n\n\nI don't have the ending quite figure out so I'm stopping here, hope you enjoyed the story."
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[WP] There are multiple grim reapers in the world. Each has specific duties. One group is helps those who can't pass on due to the person behind it still being free. They look into them to find proof and scare them into confessing. One member is a 12-year-old, red-haired, Scottish girl.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"“Poor pooch! Got out of the garden did we?”\nThe reaper- sorry- Mebh the reaper stood before a soul of a dog, their body some feet away from where they were struck and killed. \n\n“Ah, I know, I know. Wanted to see your wee lass one more time today.” With a quivering hold she readies her scythe, and prepares the strike. The ghost dog whines and paws at the ground, invisible to the mortal eye. “Don’t worry, love. Ya will get to see her again. It’ll be a while, but time moves different like on the other side.” \n\nShe gently tapped the soul with the tip of the scythe, the ghost gently fading to the somber wail of a sad howl. “Never gets any easier, but at least I give’em a gentle face before the other side…”"
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If you what to know what an ASVK looks like here is a link to an articale: [ASVK Articale](https://www.19fortyfive.com/2021/07/russias-sniper-rifles-are-terrifying-for-one-reason-they-can-pierce-body-armor/)
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[WP] You are summoned is a diferent world to defeat an evil dragon, that destroys everything in its path, good thing you have your ASVK whit you......
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Nothing can ever be simple, can it?\r \n\r \nTorn out of my own world and tossed across space and time to a place where magic was real and creatures of myth were living, breathing facts of daily life, I adapted.\r \n\r \nYou’d think I might’ve spent a day or two just freaking out, but I didn’t. The shakes didn’t hit me until a few days later, after I’d had time to absorb the whole “chosen one summoned from another place” schtick and get my head around the absolute basics of this place.\r \nIt wasn’t unlike how I’d heard some folks talk about PTSD. It just took a little thing to trigger a full cascade of Holy-Hell-In-A-Handbasket-What-The-Fuck. A sandwich, in my case. A simple sandwich. No one here had ever cut two slices of a loaf of bread and put a slice of meat between them before, and that was when it all kind of dropped down on my head, as I looked at my host’s expression of mixed horror, amazement and fascination and it truly dawned on me just how far from home I really was. Further, I guessed, than anyone had every been from home ever before.\r \n\r \nThat was months ago and, the bullshit I’ve had to put up with since then…\r \n\r \nLearning the language was hard enough to begin with, but I’ve always been a quick study. The nuance is still beyond me, but I can get by in a straightforward conversation like “Just tell me where the fucking dragon is already”. But no. It couldn’t be that easy.\r \n\r \nI’d stepped straight off Salisbury Plain and into the summoning circle in full kit. I had my uniform and my ghillie suit and my other kit. I had my side arm and my reserve weapon. And, best of all when it came to my whole point of being here, I had the ASVK.\r \n\r \nIt wasn’t my usual choice of rifle. I tended to favour the Accuracy International L96. But this was a new thing the Russians had been “field testing” against revolutionaries in Syria, and one of our people had smuggled one out to us. It was a bit of a beast, I had to say – much closer to the Barratt .50, which the Yanks had designed as an anti-materiel rifle only for the Republican terrorists in Northern Ireland to turn it on British patrols, punching clean through the steel/ceramic chest plates in their body armour.\r \n\r \nPersonally, I preferred a good head shot. But each to their own. And so I’d been sent out onto Salisbury Plain with a map, some orders and a list of targets against which we would put the ASVK to the test under battlefield conditions.\r \n\r \nThen, two days in, I blinked, there was a sense of vertigo, and here I was in my own little Narnia, there to – I kid you not – slay a fucking dragon.\r \n\r \nOnce I got my head around the concept and grasped the idea that my only way home was via a dead dragon, I was pretty on board with it all. Fine, I thought, point me to a good vantage point and I’ll shoot the fucker dead. And then it had to get political.\r \n\r \nTurns out everyone wants the rifle.\r \n\r \nSome folks want to take it apart, and work out how to make their own. Pointing out that they have a few hundred years of metallurgy to work their way through before that’s even vaguely possible just falls on deaf ears. Their smiths refuse to believe that their metals couldn’t tolerate the forces involved. And that’s before you even get to the question of making black powder and depleted uranium casings. And then you have to know how to handle the weapon, how to stalk a target and how to deliver an effective kill-shot.\r \n\r \nEveryone wants the dragon dead. But everyone also wants technological superiority once that collective pain in the arse has been removed. Oh, and no one wants the credit to go to some outlander, either. Because the other folks that want the rifle are the local template knights, who have refused to let anyone else even attempt to engage with the dragon because apparently they’ve been given a holy mission to rid the world of its evil and that doesn’t include the concept of just helping me to get there and do the job and go home.\r \n\r \nStill, here I am.\r \n\r \nThanks to the Thieves Guild, we gave the temple knights the slip. And thanks to a deal with the Assassins – who were by far the most reasonable bunch I’ve met so far, besides Antheleon, who summoned me here in the first place and hasn’t stopped apologizing for it – we managed to alter the membership of the Council of Elders advising King Roglan to the point that the Draconic Alliance was tipped into stalemate long enough for us get a head-start over their tedious army of spies.\r \n\r \nAnd we were able to tempt the dragon out of her cave which, believe me, took some doing. She’s probably the smartest person in this world, and evil and smart are a difficult combination to deal with. We really had to work hard to set up a credible bait to get her out there.\r \n\r \nI’d apologize to the temple knights who ended up being said bait but, well, they’re all dicks, so…\r \n\r \nAnd now I’m looking down my scope at her from a range of a little over a mile, from the crenelations of an ancient watch tower, while Antheleon uses a neat little combination of spells to rattle off wind and range data as I track her movements.\r \n\r \nA preference for head shots or not, I’d rather take her in the centre of mass, given the way her head moves at the end of that long neck. It’s going to be at least two seconds for my round to make it from here to there and she’s never bloody still long enough.\r \n\r \nExcept when she’s eating. And Sir Govrik, Stellar Knight of Superior Fuckwittery, is just about to make himself a meal she won’t be able to resist.\r \n\r \nSure enough, I watch the pompous twat charge her and, to be fair to him, that lance draws blood. But it looks from here like he gets maybe two inches of penetration from that charge, which confirmed my gut feeling that I was unlikely to penetrate enough to reach her heart. No, head shot it would have to be. Oops, there goes his sword. Aaaand that horse is not getting up again. This is it.\r \n\r \nThe dragon lifted her head in a gesture I’d watched a dozen times before and I gently increased the pressure on the trigger. Antheleon’s voice was just a buzz of white noise in my mind, now. Govrik’s terror as he watched inevitability descend upon him was just background detail to the impending moment of release. Even my own self – my sense of my hand and my eye and my body as parts of me – receded into a transcendent moment of perfect oneness with the decision to kill.\r \n\r \nI was barely aware of the shot when I took it. It was always this way for a kill shot, whether it was a person or a dragon. I had fired on the out breath and as I drew my breath back in, I saw the impact.\r \n\r \nIt was a little off.\r \n\r \nI had been aiming above and behind her right eye, where Antheleon’s best information suggested the brain pan could be found. Instead, it landed below and in front of the eye – a deviation of four inches, most of which was down to her moving backwards as she tore Govrik’s left arm off. Penetration was clean, though, and the impact of the heavy round was pretty devastating. It ripped the whole front of her upper jaw clean off her face.\r \n\r \nShe was dead. There was no question she was dead. She would choke on her own blood, or give in to shock, or – worst case – starve to death because there was no way for her to eat without an upper jaw. Healing spells were great for disease and small injuries, but even re-building a lost digit took days of patient care and at last two expert casters. Whole limbs were almost impossible to restore. So she was definitely dead. The only problem was that she wasn’t dead… yet. And now she turned her shattered visage, her furious, raging stare and everything that was left of her power squarely towards me.\r \n\r \nNo, nothing can ever be simple, can it?"
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Inspiration for this prompt came from listening to the [score from Blade Runner](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3fz6CC45ok&ab_channel=Greendragon861).
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[WP] A grieving man or woman goes for a walk, finding themselves in a cyberpunk city that appears out of nowhere. While walking through the city, he/she go through the five stages of five stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance.
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[
"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"A loss is a terrible thing. It can fell careers, sunder relationships, destroy minds, or otherwise ruin people’s lives. I can’t say I ever realized how bad it was, really. My grandparents were already dead by the time I was born. My parents were supportive and cheerful, and still live in my childhood home barely two blocks away from our—my house. I never had a pet, nor had I had any of my childhood friends left the neighbourhood. \n\n\r \nTrue, I have regrets. I shouldn’t have bullied Tyler Robinson into giving me his Qbox and Call of Honour games. I shouldn’t have taken a bite of Billy’s magic mushrooms before that math test. I should have done at least some of the things that we put on our bucket list. \n\n\r \nRegrets are not the same though. They are “what-ifs” whereas a loss is a full-stop. A period. A wall that stops anything from climbing over. \n\n\r \nThe house is not a regret, but it feels too empty, too large for just myself. My footsteps echo on the linoleum. Lights that I turn on, stay that way until I turn them off. I don’t hear the clatter of dishware when reading the post-work newspaper. \n\n\r \nThe emptiness is stifling. \n\n\r \nIt is hardly a wonder that I make a choice, on the spot, to avoid that and see where the rail line takes me. I’ve never explored the city. It was on our list, but we were too happy, too comfortable, too complacent to ever do it. \n\n\r \nI know the municipalities by name. Negatio, Ira, Pactus, Tristitia. Each are just words though, so I will see them with eyes eager to learn. I want to see them, if just once, so that I never miss out on the opportunity. What if there is an earthquake? They will never be the same. Once the foundation of a person’s life is disrupted, things change. It is a loss of everything that stood before.\n\n\r \nAs the train approaches Negatio, I see lights in the fog, faint and dim. Almost to the point of a disbelief in their existence. I think I hear muffled voices in the impermeable soup, but nothing definite. I shiver as the train’s doors open. No one leaves. The doors close again, and we move onto Ira. \n\n\r \nThe fog turns into smog, which the clears as we approach the station. Ira appears to be industrial, with several buildings with smokes for indeterminate purposes. Cremation? Smelting? I don’t know enough to be certain. Though, the height the buildings and the shadows they leave on the streets makes me curious about what they are for. Then, a gunshot. The glasteel windows deflect a bullet. No one in the train blinks an eye. More gunshots, though they are confined to the street. There is a scream and the people in the street scatter. The automated train announcement system (ATAS) declares that the local station is in lockdown, so we will skip that stop. \n\n\r \nWhy do I feel so disturbed by that. No one on the train cared for those outside. I care, or I thought I did. But I froze. I was helpless. The cops would and could handle it, but I wanted to wind back the clock so that I could use my phone to get footage. Anything that I could pass onto the authorities. \n\n\r \nBefore I can order my thoughts, we enter Pactus. Flashes of colour from the digital advertisements made the train look like the dance floor on Prom night. Jingles blaring over speakers completed the illusion. Stalls and sellers crowding the road beside the tracks, dancing to an intricate and asynchronous tune.\n\n\r \nThe train stops here, and there is a flood of people getting off. One, a man in a trenchcoat, sees me looking in wonder at the surroundings. He shuffles up to me with a wily expression on his face. He flips open his trenchcoat to reveal… watches? “Hey bud,” he says. “Wanna buy one? Two? Three? All of the highest quality, I promise.” Some of them look fine, but none of the displays are working, and the few analogue ones are ticking far too slowly. I shake my head slowly. “Okay bud, your loss.”\n\n\r \nNo, not a loss, nor a regret neither. I look out at those crowds. Smells waft in through the open doors. I see a pet shop. A small black and white kitten catches my eye. I slip out of the doors just as ATAS speaks. “Welcome to the Accipere line. This train is bound for—” I can’t hear it anymore due to the vendors yelling about their own products. The kitten is looking at me now too, with those innocent eyes. \n\n\r \nThose innocent, blue eyes. \n\n\r \nI don’t know if I will regret this impulse, but I know that I will regret not taking it. \n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nThanks for reading! I loved the soundtrack!"
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[WP] You wake up in a white hallway with strange objects that seem to be strange accidents. A familiar tour guide shows up and you realize he’s from the Farmers Insurance commercials, ready to take you on a tour. You come to realize that the dead people from these accidents end up here for the tour.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Never thought I'd be caught dead in khakis. Or a tucked in, red polo shirt. So it was something of a surprise to find myself dressed as such. I was blinking in the bright sunlight, my eyes adjusting like I had just come out of a dark movie theater. It looked like I was in some kind of museum, I think. Though all of the exhibits seemed very odd. \n \n\"Oh good, you're just in time for the tour.\" A tall, older man with glasses, a sharp suit, and a commanding pitch to his voice stood before me. \n \nThere were three other people with him, a red headed young lady of college age, a dad looking guy at middle age, and barely teenage boy who looked like he might be from somewhere rural. Each of them were similarly attired to me in khakis and a red tucked in polo. The tall man seemed to be peering down his glasses at me as if to give me a moment to collect myself, but it was clear he was about to conduct his little group on. Also clear was that he expected me to join. \n \n\"I don't-\" I said, standing slowly from the white marble bench I'd found myself on. \n \n\"This way,\" said the older man. \"We have a lot to get through in our time here.\" He strode on, fancy suit pants swishing while the trio behind him followed. \n \nThe red head seemed fierce and determined, she thrust her chin out and moved crisply on. \nThe dad guy had a look of dread on his face, like he had been caught with his hand in the candy jar. \nThe rural boy seemed numb, though I though maybe that was the perpetual expression on his face. \n \nI followed. \n \n\"Now this exhibit is titled 'The Unsafe Safe'. Anyone care to tell me what happened?\" The older man had stopped in front of a life-size diorama depicting a rather large metal safe frozen in a forward tilt while an elderly man, his back to the tipping container, was holding what looked like a sleeve of gold coins and a box of ammo. A partial cutout of the wall in the exhibit showed a 'Don't Tread On Me' flag while another held a bookshelf with titles like, 'Be Ready: A Prepper's Guide'. \n \n\"The idiot didn't secure his safe to the floor and it tipped on him,\" stated the red head, dismissively. \n \n\"No, no that's not it,\" said the dad. \"Look at the floor. It's breaking. This looks like his attic cause it's only partly built out. He put too much weight in the safe and the floor broke under the front. See, the rafters are only 6 to 7 feet depending on the building code, and-\" \n \n\"He got squished,\" stated the rural boy, flatly and simply. I stared at him. \n \nOur guide seemed somewhat amused and proud of the discourse. \"You've got it. We covered it. Of course, it was fatal to Mr. Burkland who suffocated in three minutes with the weight of the safe pressing on him. Now, moving on.\" \n \nWe proceeded on to the next exhibit. Dad's face fell as we neared it, though it took me a moment to realize why. \n \n\"This one is titled, 'Treehouse Trauma'. Anyone care to comment on the cause?\" The older man stood patiently with the expression of a professor. \n \nSet about twenty feet high was one of the most glorious tree houses I had ever seen. Hell, I had lived in smaller apartments in the City. It was mostly built though one last balcony section was under construction. The diorama was a large one containing the mighty oak, the sturdy stairs, ladders, and landings leading up, and the almost complete tree house. Peering up high, we could see the balcony platform was giving way and departing from the structure, which seemed at odds with it's otherwise solid craftmanship. A figure in jeans and a plaid shirt with tools slipping from his belt was pitched over. \n \nIt was the Dad. Took me a minute, but damn. I sucked in a breath and stared at him. \n \nDad was red faced. Angry? Embarrassed? All of the above? \n \n\"The bolts holding the platform gave way. Um... maybe he... maybe you forgot to tighten them?\" the red head said timidly. She too had made the connection. \n \n\"Bullshit!\" spat the Dad. \"I build things for a living. I was up there putting the railing on and had gone on that deck a dozen times the day before. It was solid as a rock!\" \n \n\"What's she got?\" asked the rural kid, all innocent-like. We all looked at him and then to a figure at the edge of the diorama that he pointed to. It was a plump midwestern woman who seemed about the same age as the Dad. Oh shit... ohhhhh shit. It was his wife. She was standing there watching Dad take a header off that platform. \n \n\"Let's take a look,\" said our guide. He waved his hand and suddenly the figure of the woman was near, as if he had zoomed in on reality. I had a wave of vertigo from the transition but managed to keep to my feet. \n \nShe had this sort of determined look on her face, but these dead eyes. It sent a chill down my spine. In one hand she had her phone and in the other... \n \n\"Oh my God,\" gasped the red head. \"She's got the bolts. She took them off before you went up and she...\" \n \nDad stood silently. Our guide said nothing, simply watching through his glasses. \n \n\"Loerna and I had our problems, sure,\" mumbled Dad. \"Just like any couple. She had asked for a divorce and I told her she was crazy, that we just needed to focus on the kids. That's why I was building that tree house...\" \n \nDad sat down on a marble bench. He seemed to stare at something a million miles away. \n \n\"You can stay here for a while if you like,\" said our guide, exhibiting the closest I think he could get to empathy. He patted Dad on the shoulder. \n \n\"We covered it,\" he said. \"Full life insurance payout to Loerna and she is currently enjoying a vacation to Jamaica where she is sleeping with a man half her age that she met in a conga line named Reggie. Moving on...\""
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[WP] Everytime your body falls asleep, your fully awake mind wanders as an intangible and invisible projection. Over time, you've become friends with a terminally ill person who can speak to you only when they're asleep/unconscious. One night, they reveal that they're down to their final hours.
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[
"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I don't remember when it started. When I was little I would have \"adventures\" in my sleep. I would travel to the places mentioned in my books and explore. My favorite was the ocean with the sound of the waves southing me as I floated along the beach. When I woke up I would excitedly tell my parents. My mother said I had quite the imagination but my father always had an upset look on his face when hearing about my travels. One night, when I was twelve, I traveled to a hospital. I saw the sick and the dying, tied to thier bodies by a small thread as their sprits hung listlessly above. They stared, looking for something in the sky, beyond where they were. I was confused. Where was the beauty in this? I began to cry from fear as they looked at me with vacant eyes and woke up to see my father sitting in a chair by my bed. He had slept there and was woken up when he heard my soft sobs. He came and sat with me to explain that my adventures are real and I will see the world as it truely is. \"There is great beauty\" he said sadly. \"But there is also pain and suffering. You will start to see more of the world as it is, beautiful and terrible\". I knew my father did not sleep much, a trait my mother always hated. Now I understood why. We would see the true beauty of the world and the greatest pain. There was no escape except conciousness. \n\nAs I grew older, I would meet people in my adventures. The spirits of everyone alseep. Most were kind, with a bright light shining from their core. Some where nothing but darkness, an inky shadow against the stars. I learned not to fear the large vacant eyes. One was a young woman who had a soft, gold colored light. She would sit on the roof of her house and stare at the ocean all night. Over time, I sat with her, staring at my favorite place and chattering on about my life. She would laugh and smile as I rattled on. We sat and talked for hours each night and she would tell me about her family, her hopes and dreams. Over time, her spirit became lighter, almost see through. She became distant and translucent. One night she looked at me with a sad smile. \"My time here is almost over my dear\" she said in a whisper. \"It's time to say good bye\". I wished I could cry but I managed to choke out a dismal \"*why?!\".* She took my by the hand and led me to a window. Inside was an old woman, covered in tubes. Each tube had a different colored liquid, flowing in or out of the frail body. \"This is my body\" she explained. \"I have fought all that I can but it is now my time to explore what is beyond this life. I want to see what, if anything comes next\". I stared in shock as she became just a ball of golden light, her thread dissolved. \"Good bye, my dear friend. You made my last months ones of laughter and joy instead of lonliness. Be happy\". With her last words, the orb rose higher and higer until it joined the stars. I awoke in my bed and said \"Farewell\".",
"The hospital doors didn’t slide open when I passed through them. They never did. Probably because I was literally passing right through them.\n\nI knew that familiar hospital smell, even though I couldn’t smell it. Just like I knew the sounds of nurses bustling and monitors beeping, even though I couldn’t hear it. The phantom sensations were oddly comforting in the dead silence of my dreamwalking. I never did quite figure out why I could still see when none of my other senses could detect the waking world. I suppose this would be an awfully boring story if I couldn’t.\n\nA young mother huddled over her silently screaming baby in a corner chair, her lips moving desperately in an attempt to soothe it. A tweaker cradled his bloody hand wrapped in a tea towel, shooting annoyed glances at the screaming baby. An exhausted triage nurse struggled to get a blood pressure cuff onto the arm of a large man.\n\nLeaving them to their personal dramas, I rode the elevator up with an orderly moving a patient in a bed. I no doubt looked ridiculous, rising stoically out of his slumbering torso. They weren’t going to my floor, so I slipped out through the doors on 6, walked down the hall, passed the nurses’ station, and turned into room 632.\n\n“Hi, Sarah.”\n\n“Hey, Brady.”\n\nHer sedated body was a pale, frail tangle of IVs and monitor leads. Her eyes and cheeks were sunken and sallow, her skin nearly translucent. Bruised veins criss-crossed her exposed arms. Her bald head was wrapped in a turban of bandages. She was only a teenager, but sickness had made her somehow ancient.\n\n“How’re you feeling tonight? Gotta say, you’re not looking so good.”\n\n“I know,” she sighed, her voice small. “I heard the nurses talking before you got here.” She tangled her fingers in her lap, squeezing them so hard the colour would have gone out of them, were she not an ethereal monochrome. “They say this is my last night. This is the end of my story, Brady. Cancer wins.”\n\nDreamwalking Sarah pushed herself up out of the chair, tightened her ponytail, and did her best to shake it off but her voice was still thick with emotion. “I mean, I’m not an idiot. I knew this was coming. All this time, all these months we’ve been going out, having fun, doing all these amazing, impossible things together while the world sleeps. So, why stop now? Let’s go! Let’s have the best last night of my life!”\n\n“Well,” I shrugged with a sigh. “Who am I to argue with that? Come with me. I’ve got something special planned just for this night.”\n\nOut through the hospital we went, a young woman in a hoodie and shorts holding spectral hands with a young man in a tweed blazer and wire-rimmed glasses. Out into what was no doubt a warm summer night under a blazing bright moon. We rode an empty bus across the sleeping city, Sarah pestering me the whole way with questions about where we were going and what I had planned.\n\nWhen we wound up in a quiet part of town,I knew she was confused. No doubt she wanted a showstopper of a last night on this Earth, and this did not seem to be that. We eventually arrived at a small, unassuming brick apartment building on a slumbering street. All its windows were dark. Sarah looked more confused than ever. I took her hand again, and led her inside.\n\n“I have something to give you.”\n\nWe slipped into a tiny apartment on the ground floor, sparsely furnished and pitch dark but for the moonlight through the curtains. In the bedroom, an elderly man in a single bed slept under a handmade quilt.\n\n“Brady,” Sarah began cautiously. “Who is this? Why are we here?”\n\nI took a deep breath, even though neither of us was actually breathing. “This is me, Sarah. My name, my full name, is Reginald Brady. I know I look like this when we’re dreamwalking, but this is who I am in the waking world. This is me. This is my body.”\n\nSarah took my ghostly hands and squeezed them tight, looking into my eyes in a way I hadn’t seen in many, many years. “Reginald,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why are we here?”\n\n“Sarah, I’m an old man. I’ve lived my life, and it’s been a pretty good one. But, look around you — I’m … alone. See that picture on the bedside table? That’s my Lily. The love of my life. No kids, but married 45 years, until the cancer took her. And I just … I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. I watched her waste away, just like it’s happening to you. I couldn’t save her, Sarah. But I can save you.”\n\nSarah dropped my hands and stepped back, her eyes wide. Shock and confusion battled across her face. I was terrified of her interrupting me, so I forged on.\n\n“I’m 78 years old. I don’t have a lot of time left, but I know I’ve got more than you do tonight. My body is old, and my life has become small, but it’s a body and it’s a life. And I want it to be yours. Take it, please. You’ve shown me such joy and kindness when I didn’t think life held any more for me. You’re amazing, and important, and you deserve more time in this world. The people who love you deserve more of you in this world.”\n\nTears streamed down Sarah’s ghostly face as she took me by both hands again and we sat together on the foot of the bed. We sat in silence for a long time, the bright moonlight shining through us.\n\n“Wake up in my body, Sarah, and I’ll go to sleep in yours,” I implored her. “But please, decide quickly. We don’t have much time.”",
"Astral projection, some say, is an art mastered by years of practice, achievable only by extensive meditation and the burning of certain kinds of incense. A load of bull, that, because I can do it in my sleep. Literally.\n\nThe key that everyone misses seems to be poor health. As a kid, I was diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy. I think that's why I took so easily to the practice. Hard to unlearn movement when you can't move much to begin with. As morbid as it is, I've taken to visiting the hospital most often in my nighttime jaunts - partly because I find a lot of other \"natural\" projectors there, and partly because most of them don't have anyone near when visitors aren't allowed in.\n\nI laid down to sleep last night and went straight to Collen's room. He was asleep, as usual. Cancer does that to a body. His projection hovered outside of the room's window, away from the constant mechanical beeping. He was old, he'd told me, almost 85, but his projection looked a good 20 years younger than his body ever did. \"Hey,\" I said, hovering beside him.\n\n\"Hello, Avery,\" Collen smiled. \"Is it that late already?\"\n\n\"Yup,\" I confirmed. \"How are things?\"\n\nCollen sighed, long and tired. \"Not good. I can't wake up.\"\n\nA hole started growing in my chest. \"Normally they let family in when it's time. I didn't see anyone in there!\"\n\n\"It's that new virus,\" Collen explained. \"They can't risk letting anyone not essential into the intensive units.\" He shook his head sadly.\n\n\"They might be in the waiting room, or in their cars in the parking lot,\" I suggested. \"We can go down there and find them.\"\n\n\"And do what? Talk?\" Collen laughed bitterly, but whatever bleak humor he had broke in the next second. \"And besides, I think I prefer it. I know what it's like to watch someone die. I don't want my Laura seeing that, or the grandkids.\" He smiled at me, sadly. \"You either, truthfully, but then who would I have left?\"\n\nI smiled back as much as I could, grateful that my projection couldn't cry. \n\n\"I'm so grateful, you know,\" Collen stated. \"Laura worries sometimes that I'm alone, here. If only they knew...\"\n\nWe hovered there, car lights moving beneath our feet, watching the lights in the towers around us turn dark one by one. Then the sun cracked over the horizon, bathing the clouds in brilliant pinks. Collen smiled. He looked at me, opening his mouth to say something.\n\nJust like that, he was gone."
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[WP] You logged into the virtual world, then somehow suffered a concussion and have amnesia, now you are unknowingly trapped in the virtual world and keep having memory flashes of another life (your real life)
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Her gentle face always greets me. For me it is now a part of a routine. Who is she? I wonder. But there is no answer. I feel like I know her but yet she feels so far away.\r \nHer emerald eyes glint in the sun and look like real gems, her reddish brown hair complements her hair. When did I meet her? She slowly approaches me, without saying a word, \rit's like she knows that I see her everyday. Her walk reminds me of something again, what is it? Who is she? Why do I feel like I know her? These questions haunt me everyday and\r \nlike each day I give up, still lingering on the questions, I see her from the corner of my eye. Our gaze meets, she smiles faintly, almost like something is on her mind but then\r \nshe sighs and shakes her head and then gives me the same brightest slime I have ever seen. She gets up and looks at the sun, then at me and calls out a name. Is she talking to me?\r \nBut my name is not.........\r \n\r \nI wake up, the dream still fresh as a memory. How many days have passed since these dreams started, I seem to have lost count. The same dream keeps repeating everyday without break.\r \nThis is just a regular morning for me...waking up, then wondering in vain what that dream means and then finally giving up. I do remember the beach we were on but that doesn't help a thing.\r \nI try to make some more out of it while I start getting out of my bed and.....\r \n \r \n\\*whump\\*\r \n\r\n\nI catch myself and start getting ready for work, I work as a mechanic, I know\r it's not that good of a job but I honestly don't mind it. I have good workmates, I enjoy spending my time with them, talking about life and stuff. I do not earn much but I do not let it bother\r \nme, what I earn is good enough for me. \r \n\r \nI finally finish dressing up and grab my tools and leave the house on my motorcycle. I take a glance at my watch. It is 7:00 am now. Seeing that I have plenty of time, I take the long route,\r \nslowly cruising along the journey, taking in all the scenery of the beautiful view that is in front of me, I make for my work. After a while, through the horizon I see the name, \"Jacob Motors\" coming into view.\r I get off and take my tools and keys.\r \n\r \n\"Hey now, aren't you early today?\",a familiar voice greets me.\r \n\"Yeah I woke up and fell flat on my face but it's all fine.\"\r \n\"Ouch. Bet that hurt. Anyways, a client just brought in his car, you better go check it out. I'm on desk duty today.\"\r\r \n\r\n\nI slowly head towards the garage. Jacob and I switch work with each other, one day he works as a mechanic and the other \r \nday it is my turn. I start changing into my clothes and after that take a look at the car. The car's brake was not working. Apparently, some air got into the brake line and was preventing the brake fluid from flowing properly.\r \nI start taking it apart and flush the brake fluid. After an hour or so I'm done with my work. I get up and change again into my clothes and head into the house for eating lunch with Jacob. This is a small town, not many people live here so\r \nthere is not much work, if any. I knock on the front gate for Jacob to open the door.\r \n\r \n\\*knock\\* \\*knock\\*\r \n\r \nJacob slowly opens the door ajar, I can tell he is not wearing clothes and there is someone else in there. I take the cue and leave without a word. He was not on his desk duy not that it matters, we hardly get one or two customers everyday. I glance at my watch, It is now\r \n2:00 pm, knowing that I'm free as is I hastily finish my lunch and leave for a drive with a note on the front desk if any customer was to arrive, he can call me. I leave on my motorcycle and head towards the sole\r \nlocal restaurant for some coffee. The restaurant is mostly empty too, just like everything in this town, not that I mind that. I arrive and almost instantly get my order in. The coffee arrives after a while. I try to grab it but it accidently slips\r \nout of my hand. Great! I leave the cup there and fetch a worker there for cleaning, after that I apologised and left. I check my phone. No calls till now. Taking that in mind, I again set out for a ride. \r \nI start heading to the outskirts of the town and start making rounds there, not much is present here and that is why I like it, there are some advertisments here and there, that's all.\r \nOn my way, I see a girl on one of the advertisments. Not thinking much at first I continue on but after a while I realised that she is the girl I kept seeing in my dreams. I make a haste U-turn, moving along the road touching the forest. I face the advertisment now.\r \nNo doubt it is her. But why is she here? And how do I know her? Again these puzzling questions cloud my thoughts.\r \n\r \n\"You must wake up, this is all a dream.....Why won't you wake up?\"\r \n\r \nHuh? My head hurts. This felt like a memory and it was different this time. I get of my motorcycle, feeling dizzy.\r \n\r \n\"You must head to the beach. The forest is the key. Remember 23.\" \r \nHer voice again.\r \n\r \nAfter a while those voices stopped. I regained my composure and started wondering was the voice talking about the same beach I saw in my dreams? But there is no such beach here? Then what is she talking about?\r I just leave it and head towards my house to get some sleep.\r \n\r \n\rYou must find the truth. Stop blocking everything from view. Come back. Please.\r \n\r \nI wake up and without wasting a breath, I get up grab some toast and my keys and head towards this forest.\r The forest itself is pretty small. Actually it is a shame of a forest. I know that I can easily search around the whole area in just a day. After a while, I reach that place. It is the same advertisment but this time it is facing my back and I am facing the forest.\r \nLet's get this over with once and for all is the only thought in my head. I enter the forest and without wasting anytime start searching for this so called beach. I mean it is almost laughable but the things that are happening to me aren't logical either.\r Fumbling here and there, I was about to give up when I spot a......a building? Tall and worn down. How can a building be here? I wonder to myself and out of curiosity, check it out. I start heading for the stairs when I see a fully functional elevator?\r I get it still puzzled. There is only one button. 23. I press it. After a while, I reach the floor, the bell dings. I get off and there in front of me is a beach? I couldn't believe my eyes. Then I see her. She just smiles and the memories come flooding in. \r \n\r \nHer name.....is Eve, she was my wife. She drowned on my beach and it was all my fault. I locked myself in this fake reality of mine and wished that she was alive. I loved her. But maybe she didn't want me to suffer. She wanted me to remember. Her voice reacher me.\r \nI have to wake up now. Thank you, whoever you were for sticking with me. You were a good listener at least. Oh yeah my name is Jacob, the friend that I created was just a part of my imagination, he represented the me that was before all this and the girl I saw in her house. Yeah, I remember, She was Eve."
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[WP] There is only so many battles fought in Valhalla before it became stale, so the einherjar try new forms of competition.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Ivarr laughed when I first suggested it. Ragnar, as well. The Allfather glared at me with his one good eye. If we don't practice, Old One-Eye reasoned, how can we be expected to do our duty?\n\nI asked for Brokk and Sindri, and, after some wheedling, asked them what happened if a blade were sharpened for too long.\n\nBrokk chuffed darkly. \"It wears to nothing.\" I looked back to the Allfather.\n\n\"We have sharpened our blades, added weights to our clubs, and mended our armor for so long, my life in Midgard is a faded memory. My wife, our daughter, my grandchildren! I barely remember them anymore!\" A hollow protest, here. No matter. I looked to some of the newer arrivals. Men who did not see the foe's blade as it fell, nor the arrow's path (or, rather, had not heard the bullet, in more and more cases). Fewer women among them. Their loss in life, ours in death. \"It is our purpose, Allfather, to fight. To buy time for the new world's birth. Ragnarok marches toward us, implacable, aye. And we do not tire, here. Not as we did in life. But our minds remain as they were in life, to an extent. Endless battle, hearty feasts, and endless drink cannot slake all a man's needs in life, nor, it seems, in death.\n\n\"I ask one day, Sage-God. One day where we see to other pursuits. Our interests in life, if we wish, and remember them. Those of a mind could learn what you would share with them. Heimdall could show us how our descendants fare. One day, Sage-Lord, will see renewed vigor in your armies.\"\n\nOne-Eye chuffed darkly. He wasn't amused. But he might yet be swayed. \"And if the Horn winds as the Einherjar laze about and waste valuable training time?\"\n\nI was expecting this. \"Those of us who remain, and many of us will, fight with all the strength we can. Those who 'waste our time' will be all the more put out by the Gjallarhorn's winding, interrupting us. Those who see our descendants will fight all the harder, just to give them a bit more time. Let your blade grow cool, assess its edge, before you return it to the whetstone.\"\n\nA grin from Sindri. The Gods consider my words.\n\n\"A day of quiet. A reminder of what we will fight to ensure, before we resume preparing for that fight.\"\n\nThe All-Father has not taken his eye off me. Thor has been glaring; how dare one of the Dead question the Wise God? Frigg looks to her husband with concern, and back to the One Who Questioned. Tyr is, as ever, unreadable, as befits a bringer of order and justice. I have watched the Even-Handed for half a million days, and I can barely determine his mood.\n\nAfter much internal deliberation, for he has not opened his mouth since his question to me, the Allfather holds up his fists. \"One day.\" He raises his pointer finger. \"And one night. Today, you fight. Tonight, you feast. Tomorrow, you rest.\"\n\nI incline my head, and a wicked idea, almost worthy of the Lie-Smith himself, crosses my mind. \"No doubt tomorrow's Chosen will be confused at the paltry numbers about them. Let them take the field, sit at table, and bed down for the night, and all the while, wonder where their brethren are. Let them awaken again with all the Slain about them, then to know that all is as it should be.\"\n\nOdin blinks at me, somewhat confused, until he sees the mischievous grin tug at my lips.\n\nThat, it seems, sells him on the idea.\n\n\"You will explain to them why they took the field alone? Why they feasted in such small numbers? Why a billion bedrolls go empty?\"\n\nI nod. \"Who better?\"\n\nThe Thunder-God speaks. \"They may not trust you after.\"\n\nI shrug. \"I will admit the deception, and swear that no more shall befall them. If that is not enough, I will fight well away from them for as long as possible, come the Twilight.\"\n\nThe Gods turn to confer. I can see their heads moving as they speak. But I cannot read their lips. I do not hear their words.\n\nNo matter. Their words now are not for my ears.\n\nI wait.\n\nThe sounds of battle begin behind me. Blades crashing, shields shattering. The screams of the wounded. Those who die awaken moments later, back in the feasting hall, awaiting the next battle. And all the while, I wait.\n\nSomeone impales me through the chest with a thrown spear. I throw an exasperated look back to my brethren as I fall, and as I awaken, renewed, I step back to the place I had been standing, my blood the only sign I had been there previously.\n\nFreya watches me, having heard the clatter, before returning to the impromptu Thing.\n\nTwo more deaths, but this time I am ready. I catch my first opponent in the gut, but my sword catches on his spine. We are both ended by the same flung great-axe. The next time, a lucky arrow slips through my shield's planks, and into my eye. You'd think I would have learned by now, to go for the steel boards wherever possible.\n\nThe third time, as I wait for the previous battle to come to its end, The Lady catches my eye. She nods once. I return the gesture.\n\nI have forgotten what quiet really is. Battle. Feasts. The aftermath of both. These are not quiet. Not really. Between the cries of the wounded and dying in one, and the terrible singing and snores in the other...\n\nI think I will simply.. enjoy the quiet for a time."
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[WP] your an angel, you messed up in heaven so now your hiding out in the human realm, disguised as an average human. Then you run into an demon, who says they’ll expose your identity to heaven, unless you do exactly as they say.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"“Oh?” The demon’s lips curled in a smile. “I never thought I’d see you here, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes~”\n\n“You didn’t,” Maolmhuire said, lunging for the demon’s head. \n\n“Ah, ah, ah~” the demon admonished, wagging his finger while dodging away. “Keep those hands off my memories!” \n\nThe demon caught Maolmhuire’s hands and spun him around, pinning his against the grimy wall of the alley. \n\n“No wings? No halo?” The demon’s eyes widened, “No way…are you…going commando right now? Free swinging with the humans?”\n\n“Unhand me!” Maolmhuire struggled. But without his heavenly garments, he was no stronger than an ordinary human. Maolmhuire could feel a hand wiggling it’s way through his pockets. \n\n“Miles Hedon?” The demon snorted as he pulled out and read Maolmhuire’s human driver’s license. “Did you choose that? Not very flattering for an angel…”\n\n“…I didn’t pick the surname,” Maolmhuire said through gritted teeth. \n\n“I always knew that damned deity had a poor sense of humour,” the demon remarked, releasing Maolmhuire now that his hands had found more interesting things to occupy them. \n\n“Give me back my wallet!” Maolmhuire made a leap for it, but the demon was quicker. Easily evading him with a turn of his heel. \n\n“So what brings you here?” The demon asked curiously, “Sight-seeing? Secret mission? Banishment?”\n\nMaolmhuire fell silent. \n\n“Ahhh…” the demon said quietly, “I do love when it’s the latter.”\n\n“Please…don’t tell anyone,” Maolmhuire said. \n\n“That sounds like a favour…” the demon said, tapping the corner of Maolmhuire’s wallet against his chin. \n\n“What do you want from me?” Maolmhuire asked reluctantly. “My soul?”\n\n“Miles, Miles, Miles, what do I look like to you?” The demon grinned. “A devil?”\n\n“Are you not?” Maolmhuire asked sarcastically. \n\n“No, no, no, no, no!” The demon tutted. “As if I’d want something so worthless as a soul. I’m a demon, my dear Miles. What I want…”\n\nThe demon drew close to Maolmhuire’s face. \n\n“…is your heart.”",
"\"So, what should I call you, my new feathered friend?\"\n\nXalphan shuddered, his skin prickling at the demons mocking tone. She sat there in clothes that left little to the imagination, grinning at how uncomfortable it made him.\n\n\"Xalphan...\"\n\n\"Xalphan, now that's a dull name. I preferred your human one, Callum.\"\n\nHe winced at her words. In her voice, his name, both true and fake, sounded foul. He looked her in the eye, a hint of venom behind his resigned fate.\n\n\"What do you want?\"\n\nShe grinned again, deliberately crossing her legs in a slow, teasing fashion.\n\n\"I want many things my dear. Let's start off small shall we?\"\n\nShe snapped her fingers, summoning a wicked blade.\n\n\"I want the grace of an angel. Yours will do.\"\n\nWith a flick of her wrist, the knife launched through the air. It pierced the wall beside Xalphan, letting out a hiss of dissatisfaction. He looked at her, seeing a will of iron behind her mocking voice and body. There would be no mercy.\n\n\"I can't do it.\"\n\nHer grin faded a little.\n\n\"Yes you can. It's that, or go back to your city of gold. Your choice.\"\n\nHe shook his head.\n\n\"Its not that. I physical can't.\"\n\nShe narrowed her eyes, standing up.\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\nHe sighed, raising his shirt. An angry red scar ran over his heart, evidence of a terrible wound.\n\n\"I had to cut it out to hide.\"\n\nShe stopped, before grinning again.\n\n\"Oh, how clever. Well, it's not like I needed it anyway. Onto the next item!\"\n\nShe walked closer to him, running a hand down his now exposed chest. She spoke with a croon, as though speaking to a lover.\n\n\"I want you to kill one of the holy men.\"\n\nXalphan froze, looking at her.\n\n\"No, no I can't.\"\n\nShe leaned inwards, whispering in his ear.\n\n\"You will. You have no choice.\"\n\nHe knew she was right. Even though he didn't want to. He knew he had no choice. It was kill or be killed. And he didn't want to die.\n\n\"Fine...\"\n\nHe closed his eyes, unable to bear the look of triumph on her face. Even as he spoke, he felt a change within him, that he was powerless to stop. It was the opposite of the prolonged joy of heaven. Instead, it was the promise of a dark ecstasy, at the cost of others."
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[WP] "Breaking News: It appears that some merry prankster has managed to glitter bomb all law enforcement officers everywhere. Further details will be made public as they become available to this network."
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The onion pastal smell of the metal door lingers on my fingers. The eyes of the devils stare daggers into my own. Like ancient history, the greatest smirk of mine is seared into my muscles fibres. The souless room breathes no air. The silence is beautiful. \n\n\"Brandon Gray Keller, Born thirty-first of October two-thousand and twenty-five. Is this Correct?\" The grey suit growls.\n\n\"Yeah-Na-yeah, it is I\"\n\n\"What where you doing on the seventh if june?\"\n\n\"Uh... Would YOU like to know? Well i wasn't planning nuthin.\"\n\nThe devils eyes grow, the daggers smith themselves to swords. The teeth in his grin show \"Look we know you did it, we traced the same code breach in all of the systems, so how did ya do it?\"\n\n\"LoL, nunya business, thats how\"\n\nLike the scene of that old movie our eyes clash in a fantastical display of magical power. His red and mine green. The power so great, you could be killed going through.\nHe puts the dark, fresh, stardard ballpoint digi-pen down on his digi-pad. Lifts his swords, and aims them at me. Ready to fight endlessly. The baboon in blue, thunders his arms down on the table, smashing the grains of the wood at his end of the desk and searing his skin in the process.\n\n\"Fine,\" I exhale, \"it was easy, i got the locations of all your police enforcment buildings in the city, and got the pakages delivered to every place. Disguising it as a kids letter, and viola, everywhere is hit\"\n\nPhasing slightly with the wall as he stands up, he points his peepers at me one last time and he throws \"Do you know how much it costs to repair these uniforms? I'll be surprised if the parliment supreme court only gives you the minimum 5 years prison sentence\"\n\n\"Well at least i will not have to wear a glittery rainbow uniform to prison\"\n\nHe glides out of the room muttering. The onion door closes and the outside slides a document throught the mail slit in the door. Which reads:\n\nCourt date for\n\nBRANDON. KELLER.\n\nIS ON THE\n\nFORM BELOW\n\nOPEN TO REVEAL COURT DATE.\n\nThis feeling of shivers dashes through me, the parchment below is clearly tampered with.\nIt may be just that they tore it when putting in the form or maybe they did something to it.\n\nI caress my fingers over the rough surface of the letter, place my finger under the seals and tear open the form"
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[WP] You are a fantasy writer who writes a series of fantasy novels, when you where reborn in your own fantasy world you were not too freaked out, until you realized this isn't your story, it's someone's fanfic.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"“I can’t believe this, I’m really here. From the beginning! Oh my god this is so fantastic!” Anton thought as he walked through the castle village. So many wonders in this place already, Anton took everything in. Anton had carefully crafted this place when he was at his lowest, he believed he’d never escape the alleyway he had made his home. If it wasn’t for the owner of a prominent publishing firm hopping into the same dumpster as him while being chased down by a prostitute who was in reality a serial killer. The hours they spent in that dumpster blossomed into a friendship and lucrative partnership as Anton became one of the highest grossing fantasy authors at the time. Anton’s tales of Arianda were sweeping adventures of its greatest hero Petrisio, a light hearted goof known for his superior strength. Sure he regularly received emails and Private messages complaining his about his main hero being a Mary Sue but they always lapped praise upon his stories. \n\nAs Anton walked through the main gate he saw the sign that should’ve said Ariande, but instead it read Areola. “That can’t be right!” Anton thought to himself. Anton continued through the gate and noticed more discrepancies. The kindly priest named Richard who ran the orphanage Petrisio grew up in was now named Dick and he ran “The Whoriest House of Areola”, the local blacksmith shop now exclusively sold sex toys of various uses, and the love interest of Petrisio, a very plain looking woman named Nilla was now simply named nipple.\n\n“What the yell happened here?” Anton thought out loud. Then through the town cheers could be heard. Anton followed the sound of the cheers and came across several nobles on horseback, among them Anton noticed Petrisio. “PENISIO HAS RETURNED! PENISIO HAS RETURNED!” The crowd shouted. \n\n“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!?” Anton screamed but was drowned out by cheers from the crowd,“THIS ISN’T MY LIFE’S WORK! WHY WOULD ANYONE DO THIS TO MY STORY?!?”. Anton continued to cry out in vain as the crowd cheered over his screams of terror."
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[WP] It's 1986 and you're a nobody living in New York city during the hottest week of the decade. You're in your apartment blasting jazz-funk fusion with the windows open in your white, stained underwear, when suddenly, you hear a massive explosion from a mile away. A massive beatle attacks the city
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The walls tremble with each gigantic step the Beatle takes as it barrels through the city. Screams of people running in panic are silenced by thundering crash of collapsing beetles.\n\nYou struggle to get to your feet, barely a still moment, as the beatle inches closer. Dust falls from your celling, cracks grow on your walls, lamps fall over, and anything on a shelf flies off as the mighty Beatle crashes through a nearby building. \n\nYou cry as you see your American Road by Mickie Yoshino fall to the floor and shatter. You crawl through the floor as the only thing intact is your vinyl player. You hold it tight as the end draws near.\nThe only thing that gave you joy in life is the only thing left amongst your possessions. It was the only thing that was ever left.\n\nThe light goes dark in the apartment. A massive shadow seeps into the room. Only the sound of deep heavy breathes echo in the air.\n\nFear and tears in your eyes, you turn to see the mighty beetle peeking into your window, in all its horror. It's giant red eyes beaming on you,it's pincer mouth agap. \n\nThe wall bursts apart as a beatle leg enters your apartment. Sobbing you pray it'll be quick and close your eyes. The beetle leg taps the needle on your vinyl and pulls away\n\nConfused, you open one eye. The beatle holds in its leg a Vinyl, specifically Palace hotel by Preface.\n\nYou and the beetle become best friends listening to jazz in the rubble"
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[WP] The return of the Elder Gods has been interesting. While they are quite powerful, no one expected them to be so… overwhelmingly stupid.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Ok. So the apocalypse is upon us. The behemoth is roaming around flattening cities, Cthulu was awoken... who the hell is Chalchiuhtotolin? \n\nAn Aztec plague god sir. But so far it's mostly TB and rabies. One standard round of penicillin for returning troops seems to be sufficient. \n\nAh. Good. And the behemoth, where is it currently? Can we nuke it? \n\n'Fraid not sir. It's been stuck at a partially destroyed drive-in movie theater, sir. The top social scientists are suggesting that recreational activities are few and far between for 50' monsters. We're running it through some dramas right now and have plans to get it into rom-coms. If we can pivot to soap operas the existing content backlog will last us to the next century, but we've already declared a portion of hollywood as critical to national security just in case. \n\nWell, um... and Cth'ulu?\n\nIs nocturnal. We've got 200 industrial lamps pointed at the last cave he crawled into at dawn and he's been snoozing ever since. \n\n....Fuck it, I'mma gonna nuke'em! *Slams big red button*.\n\nAh. The biggest monster. Turns out it's man. Respectfully, sir."
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[WP] A single male is down on his luck in the dating scene. No women seem to be interested, no one except a "woman" named Milly. Milly is absolutely perfect in every way and is attracted to our lonely protagonist. The only catch is that she is a cosmic eldritch being that regularly eat planets.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The stars stood suspended in disbelief as I floated in the cold void of space. What they were staring at, I wasn't quite sure. It could have been little ol' me swimming in the ocean of darkness...or the giant planet I once called Earth cracked open like a coconut. Not like it mattered. Stars weren't sentient and the damage was done. The entirety of human civilization was destroyed all because of me. I am Timothy Worthington and this is my story.\n\nIt all began five months ago. I had been struggling in the dating scene for quite awhile. In my teens I chalked it down to being an awkward kid or busy with getting good grades. On the plus side I saved more money for college. Then college came around and it was overwhelming. Balancing classes, two part time jobs, and soccer practice took a toll on my free time. Not that I didn't give it the old college try, but my flirting skills were less than to be desired.\n\nAll my attempts either ended in straight up rejections, friendly yet short conversations with strangers I never saw again, or becoming friends with women who were already married or happily dating someone. I didn't let that keep me down. I figured I could focus on my career, get a good job and a house of my own. Then get back out there. That may have been a mistake. \n\nThe longer I waited, the more isolated I found myself. Work took up most of my time and by the weekend all I wanted to do was rest. Before I knew it I was twenty nine years old and still had never even been on a date. I had asked a few women out at work, but...well I should have figured I knew the answer. That left me with my only real option. Online dating. \n\nI was optimistic at first. I had a few good pictures, listed some of my more oddball hobbies (badminton and sandal making), and had a peppy bio written. Hello ladies, here I am. I liked most of the women I encountered and tried to drum up some fun conversation, but it was harder in the virtual world than in real life. Most conversations never got a reply and those that did, didn't last long before they too faded into obscurity. \n\nAfter literally thousands of attempts and several months on different sites, it was starting to look hopeless. Until I met Milly. Her profile was a strange one for sure. Just one picture of herself in what I thought was an elaborate cosplay. The rest were really detailed pictures of several planets in our solar system. Each one captioned with what would go best with them, like she was going to eat them or something. \n\nI thought it was adorable and gave her some suggestions that were equally outlandish. For instance, using spinach as a garnish for Mars. She really got a kick out of that one. Before I knew it we were chatting everyday. Talking about space and planets we wanted to go to. It was great talking to a woman who had the same interests, but I was concerned I was being catfished. I heard about it happening and given my track record and her terrible profile, I needed to make sure.\n\nWe were having a rousing chat about the delectableness of Jupiter when I went out on a limb and asked her out on a date for Saturday. She texted me back almost instantly, even recommended that we play badminton. I was ecstatic, but also nervous. I had no real idea of what to expect.\n\nSaturday came and I waited for her by the court with my racket in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. I even added a little biscuit that I colored to look like Mars. The texture wasn't quite right, but I thought she would appreciate the gesture. When I saw her, I was surprised. She looked...exactly like her profile picture.\n\nHer skin was greenish yellow with long dark corded hair that stood on end. The rest of her body looked like a petite woman in a basic white shirt, but her arms were abnormal to say the least. Her elbows were below her tiny waistline. And her hands were...well she had eight fingers...on each hand that wiggled around like worms. I was taken aback by her alien look, but at least I knew it was her. \n\n\"Milly? I didn't expect you to look exactly like your profile picture.\"\n\n\"Thanks. I figured you wouldn't recognize me if I didn't doll myself up a little.\" she said brushing her hair. \n\nWe both laughed. I thought it was cute that she wore a costume. Wow, was I an idiot. \n\n\"You got me flowers!\" she said.\n\n\"Yeah, I didn't know what you liked, so I got you all of them.\"\n\nShe snatched them from my hand and breathed in deep. I watched her eyes close as she took in the various scents. Then her eyes spotted the real gift within the bouquet. \n\n\"Is this supposed to be Mars?\" she smirked. \n\n\"Yeah. I didn't have any spinach though.\"\n\n\"That's alright, I'm sure it tastes as good as the real thing,'' she said, taking a bite from it. \n\n\"Well? Does it hold up to the hype?\"\n\nShe covered her mouth, her fingers wiggling all over her face, \"It is much crumblier than Mars.\" \n\n\"I bet.\" I laughed.\n\nWe didn't waste much time and got into the game. I taught her how to play badminton and she was a quick learner. I was going to let her win, but she beat me all on her own. She was really short for the game, yet somehow she would always hit it in such a way I couldn't return it. It would have been frustrating if not for her giggles after every score. I couldn't stay mad at that.\n\nAfterwards I planned a little dinner at my place. I was nervous about inviting her over. I didn't want her to think I had other plans for the evening, but I knew she did not like going out to restaurants. When I brought it up, she was actually excited. She wanted to change after our sweaty game, so I gave her my address and she met me at my place by nightfall.\n\n***\n\nI wasn't a chef by any means and it showed in our meal. Spaghetti and meatballs. I did add a candle light on the table to set the mood. She looked beautiful, yet still alien sitting across from me. Red sauce over her lips, unafraid to get a little sloppy.\n\n\"How were the meatballs?\"\n\n\"Almost as good as Mars,\" she said smiling.\n\nI laughed, \"I wonder, if you could eat Mars, how would you do it?\"\n\n\"I would use a fork of course.\" Milly said, taking another bite from the meatball on her plate. \"I have a question, what do you think Earth tastes like?\"\n\n\"I imagine it would taste like a five layer cake, filled with chocolate and caramel. Topped with whipped cream and cherry on top.\"\n\n\"So the moon is the cherry?\" Milly asked, leaning closer to me.\n\n\"I guess. Then the question is, do you eat the cherry first or last?\n\n\"First. Otherwise it's just floating out there with nowhere to go. Might even get in the way.\"\n\n\"You are so strange, you know that?\" I said with a smile. \n\nShe blushed, \"Intergalactic Foodies are strange aren't they?\"\n\n\"They are, but I wouldn't have you any other way.\"\n\nMilly looked me straight in the eyes. They were golden and she spoke to me as if we were both telepathic. I could hear. No. Feel what she was saying. That I was the only one for her. And I answered back in kind. Needless to say, it wasn't long and the spaghetti was all over my kitchen floor. I don't kiss and tell but let's just say my table made a great bed in a pinch.\n\nAfter that night, we met each other everyday after my work was done. We would go for walks, play badminton, and I even showed her how to make sandals. Made her a pair with little stars in them. At the time I never noticed that everyday she wore the same makeup. That was when things should have clicked. But I was dumb and in love.\n\nEventually though, everything made sense. All at once unfortunately. I was leaving work for the day when Milly was waiting for me in the parking lot. She was dressed in a one piece black swimsuit, a swimmer's hat that kept her hair controlled, and the sandals I made her. Strange attire for a parking lot, but she was strange in general. \n\nPart 2 in next comments (Whole thing didn't fit in one. Sorry about that.)"
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[WP] After purchasing an older, "Fixer Upper," Victorian style home, you discover a time capsule buried on the property with the message, DO NOT OPEN UNTIL NEW YEARS 1899.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"so i'm digging my new house with jerry and he says \"yo look at this shit\" and i grab my 200$ limited-edition supreme shovel and dig up the shit which reduces the value of the shovel from new to used making it worth about $75 dollars less than msrp. I am pretty fucking pissed.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nafter returning my supreme shovel i pry open the capsule in the ground with my gucci crowbar. I should stop buying these things. The capsule is tall, white, and shiny. Just like my illegal Xanax pills.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nPeering inside the dusty big pill, I see a paper more yellowed than dog piss. Being a logical man, I restore the paper using my air fryer. After 30 excruciating minutes of waiting, I open the tray and look inside.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe paper reads one thing.\n\n\"Gottem\"",
"The writing on the canister was clean and legible. The lines of the writing crisp and sharp. The paint looked fresh, despite the patina of dust and debris which you’d expect of something buried two foot under the surface.\n\nIt was light. Tim lifted it effortlessly from the hole in front of the digger. He turned it this way and that, trying to work out what it was.\n\nThe silvery marks that the blade had made when the digger’s prongs had struck it marred the completely smooth side, and there was what looked like a jet black panel on the other.\n\nTry as he might, Tim could not see the black surface. It was as if an inky black hole had appeared in his vision.\n\nHe stared into it, trying to focus on the perfect black.\n\nA burst of green light startled him, and he dropped the canister. It rolled on the grass, pointing towards the old house.\n\nA continuous tone sounded, coming from everywhere and nowhere, followed by a series of musical notes which made no recognisable tune.\n\nSilence followed.\n\nThen the tone repeated, and the notes too.\n\nTim did what every puzzle gamer would do; he hummed the notes back to the canister.\n\nThere was a click and a hiss, and the end started unscrewing. Before Tim could think, the lid had dropped onto the grass with an almost imperceptible thud.\n\nA metal claw came out, and Tim realised that perhaps he should have left this to someone more qualified.\n\nSomeone far more qualified.\n\nHe pulled out his phone as he backed away, his trembling fingers dialling the emergency services. He’d seen enough horror movies to believe that he was doomed.\n\nNo signal.\n\nHis worst fears confirmed, he backed away, keeping the metal creature that had emerged in his line of sight. His heart was racing, and his palms were sweating.\n\nIt ignored him, transforming as it moved, into a structure that traced a wide circle with the canister at one point on the circumference.\n\nAnother green light blazed up, and Tim’s freeze reflex took over. He was completely paralysed as a cylinder appeared in the air not ten feet in front of him; and then vanished, leaving a well dressed man in a top hat and tails.\n\nThe man looked around, and saw the very wide-eyed and bemused Tim.\n\n“What ho, good man!” the man said cheerily, “Do you mind awfully if I ask you the time? I seem to have forgotten my pocket watch, don’t you know?”\n\nTim let out the breath he didn’t realise he had been holding.\n\n“Uh. Just past 3, I think.”\n\n“Thank you kindly, sir.” the man continued, twirling the cane in his hand, “And a lovely Sunday afternoon it is, too.”\n\nTim was dazed, but he knew it wasn’t the weekend.\n\n“I think you might have got your days mixed up. It’s Wednesday today.”\n\n“Silly me! Getting my days mixed up. Easily done, at my age!” he chuckled deprecatingly, “Could I convince you to tell an old man the date?”\n\n“It’s the 25th”\n\nThe man said nothing, merely looking expectantly at Tim.\n\n“of August”\n\nThe silence continued. The main raised his eyebrows and nodded for Tim to continue.\n\n“2021”\n\nThe man pursed his lips, and nodded. A frown marred his previously cheerful brow.\n\n“Oh bother. I’m a little late. I’ll have to try again.”\n\nHe reached down to pick up the canister, and tipped his hat to Tim.\n\n“Cheerio!”\n\nThe flare of light was the same as before. But afterwards there was no trace of the man, the canister, or the metal ring.\n\nThe only proof that Tim hadn’t lost his mind was a blackened circle just over a meter wide on the autumnal grass."
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[WP] You want to speak with the manager? Fool, I AM THE MANAGER!
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The Karen's eyes and mouth blast beams like spotlights as she profusely shits herself convulsing violently. * snap *\n\nAn uneasy calm like a stream after a murder cleanses her to a much more deceptively stable posture. \"Give me the number to your corporate office please\". I stare at her bewildered as to what I just witnessed and heard. \"Corporate? ... telephone?\" I asked slowly for her ignoramus brain to twitch a thought. I yell at my sweeping boy \"Go to the telegrapher and send a message to the sheriff that another one is in the town\" I pull my citizen's arrest rope from under the counter as I continued staring deep into this homunculus' eyes \"and there's gonna be a hanging.\""
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[WP] Hey guys, this is Brody from alternate history club, and in today’s video we’ll be discussing what would’ve happened if earth had never been conquered
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"“Alright, I want to preface this video by saying there’s no way that the humans could’ve realistically defended themselves. The humans were still in the “separate countries” phase and they couldn’t have formed a unified front before the zykors of planet Valredia invaded.\n\nFor the sake of argument, let’s give the humans, say, 5 Earth years to prepare. They know the Valredian force is planning to invading and how many troops they have. The first hurdle that the humans face is cooperation. The United States seemed to have the most prominent space force, but it was mostly spearheaded by wealthy individuals who didn’t contribute to the common good, so we can rule those out. If NASA had any plans for space travel, they would probably become priority number one. Unfortunately, even with the added budget and labor, it would still take them 15 Earth years to finalize a craft strong enough to take a Valredian lazer to the hull, and that’s being optimistic. The battle had to take place on Earth, one way or another.\n\nSo the 5 years would probably be spent developing weapons like nuclear bombs, which, while primitive, get the job done. This would raise the Earth’s temperature greatly though, so even if they drove out the zykors, they would end up dying out anyway, making nuclear weapons a no-go.\n\nSo no nukes, and no spacecraft. How would they have won? It’s simple. Diplomacy. Humans, for all their flaws, are social creatures. They bond well with any animal or plant or inanimate objects they see. They could easily use the 5 years to learn the Valredian language, and form an alliance when they arrive. The Valredians invaded Earth to gain an outpost in the back corner of the Milky Way, so they could have easily negotiated a solution. Unfortunately, in real life, their leaders were too bone-headed to actually think before they launched their “assault.” \n\nIn any case, that’s the beginning wrapped up, let’s move on to what happens after. \n\nSo Earth finally interacts with the rest of the galaxy, and the rest of the Galaxy with it. Due to cultural exchanges, the planet would likely unify itself within a few galactic cycles. And with their shiny new alliance, they would probably gain access to FTL warp drives from the Valredians. \n\nEarth would, at first, explore their solar system. They’d probably colonize a few of Jupiter’s moons, like the oceanic Europa. Jupiter itself is too gaseous for them to survive there, but there’s a *ton* of moons orbiting it. \n\nAfter that, it’s so open ended. They could have done anything at that point. Unfortunately, they’re now just cannon fodder for the Valredians. Which is a shame, honestly. Let’s hope that they find a way to improve their situation. \n\nAnyway, I’m Brody Hiview, and this was Alternate History Club."
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[WP] You have the ability to "Borrow" powers, then return them stronger than they were. Together with your twin, who can "Lend" powers to others, you have a pretty lucrative business going on.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The world doesn't know who we are. But you've likely seen our handiwork. \n\nI'm Jim, and my brother Johnny and I are mutants. Or Supers. Or whatever trending-on-Twitter name you want to tag on us. The first person with special powers appeared to the public about 15 years ago. Rumors had it that governments had been controlling and utilizing super powers for decades before that. An infinitesimal number of people know the actual truth.\n\nLet's start at the (public) beginning, 15 years ago. A video was posted online of a young boy who was strong. Very strong. Like, lifting cars over his head strong. And he could fly, fire lasers from his eyes... all the flashy bells and whistles. They eventually called him Mr. Terrific. Well, with the first video of him showing the world what he could do, the world changed. Supers became big business and everybody wanted a piece of the pie.\n\nResearch has been ongoing on how to add powers to an existing person, or to breed someone with powers, or trigger a transformation. Anything and everything imaginable. So far nobody has ever been able to do it.\n\nExcept for Johnny and I.\n\nYou see, our super powers *are* that we can transfer powers or add powers to other people.\n\nWe call Johnny's power \"Lender.\" He gives up a portion of his total \"power\" to a random person, and then that person can exhibit their own unique super power. It's different for everyone, and you never know what you're going to get until you get it. The first two important aspects of this are: 1) the powers are *lent*, not permanently given, and 2) people don't know what they're getting, so disappointment is common.\n\nMy power is \"Giver.\" I can give up some of my power to make another person's power stronger. The strengthening is different each time, so one person who can already fly may be able to fly faster or higher, while another person may be able to fly and suddenly get stronger, too. Here are the first two important things about my power: 1) the strengthening is different for everyone, and 2) my power is not temporary- when I strengthen a power, it stays. I just need time to recover afterwards. \n\nYou might be wondering what we actually *do* with our powers? It seems pretty bad at first glance. Not much fighting I can do against Bad Horse when all I can do is make him stronger. So the next obvious choice is for us to become sidekicks- give our powers to people who can use them against the bad guys. So the question is: who do we give our powers to? \n\nWell the world isn't as black and white as the movies paint the Supers out to be. The good guys can be assholes, and the bad guys can have really good points. We just didn't feel strongly one way or another about \"good\" and \"bad.\" We just wanted the world to be better. Our idea of better. And we weren't going to let our powers go to WASTE. No way. Momma didn't raise us to be fools, you know. So our plan became to stay in the shadows, and help those we thought deserved the help. And of course if we made boatloads of cash along the way- all the better! \n\nRemember those key points about our powers? That's what we based our business on. Johnny had a very lucrative business lending powers to people with grandiose goals in their hearts... or chips on their shoulders. We would go through weeks of interviews digging in to their actual desire. The plainly evil folks we flat-out denied (and often we would send some anonymous info along to the police or other Supers, to make sure these bad eggs were removed from the basket). But others... we were selective. \n\nI'm going to give you three examples. \n\n1) One woman came to us just a few days after a horrible hurricane had leveled her home town. She wanted to help- rescue, rebuild, influence change (climate change and all that), etc. We liked what she had to say and we thought the change she would bring was positive for the world. So she signed the contract (*of course* there's a contract), we made marketing and endorsement plans, and Lender pulled the proverbial trigger. For one year she would be known as Miss Mighty and use her powers to help her area, while we got 85% of her endorsement and reward money. Not too shabby, considering they made 2 movies about her. She renewed her contract for 7 years in a row. After the 7th year, she was simply tired out and Lender let her powers expire. Adios, Miss Mighty!\n\n2) A man found out about us 13 years after his son had been killed. His son had been killed early in the public years when two greenhorns had been trading blows following an argument. The supers thought that the countryside would be a better place to settle their dispute than the city and they tore into each other. This kid got caught in the middle of it. The dad got a big settlement from both Supers, plus a public apology, etc. But his heart had turned black. Johnny and I knew both of the Supers involved, and they were both mega-level assholes. Publicly they were 2 of the most well-known Supers active at the time (7 movies between them, including 2 team-ups). But privately they were angry, petty, spiteful, and exploitative. The dad signed the contract. He gave us every penny he had, plus every penny he could and would steal from the Supers involved. And he would make certain that both Supers would be put down. We combined Lender and Giver several times, pulling a few tricks along the way (which I'll describe later), until he was an ultra-powerhouse. We made about 23 times more from this contract than Miss Mighty, simply based on what he took from the corrupt Supers (and a few banks and corporations along the way, which had been complicit). \n\n3) The third example is completely different. His name is Bob. Bob came to us for no reason other than he thought that Supers were pretty cool and he wanted to be one. Johnny and I met Bob years before Supers were actually public, and we definitely liked the guy. So, after much discussion he signed the contract and Lender pulled the trigger. Bob's Super power: He could manipulate grass. Only grass. Specifically only one common species of grass. And only manipulate it by influencing what grass could already do (grow, photosynthesize, produce oxygen, etc.). He couldn't make grass move or grab someone. \n\nBob was pretty dissatisfied with his super power, which we completely understood. He didn't want to try going through the process of strengthening his power because of the specificity of it... he figured that it would be just as lame as it currently was. And of course, that would require a new contract on top of the existing one. In our contracts there are of course escape clauses and all that; so Bob gave up his power and went on his merry way, his potential wasted. \n\nAt least that's what we told Bob. \n\nSee, earlier I told you \"here are the first two important things about our powers...\" Well there's more. One more big, important caveat. Giver isn't just for giving. And Lender isn't just for lending. When our power is combined, it's called Give and Take. In order for me to strengthen an ability I have to first posses it- I take the super power in to myself, flex it like a muscle, and then give it back to the user, stronger. And even though normal people don't have super powers, when Lender gives them a power it has to attach to *something*. That *something* is what I take. And in the process of Give and Take, we can make temporary, weak powers and make them MIGHTY. \n\nAnd there's nothing at all that says I have to give the power back to the same person. So when Bob gave up his grass power, I kept it. I actually ended up giving it to Johnny- he always had a green thumb and after strengthening a few times he could grow anything.\n\nJohnny and I have been doing what we do for a very long time. It's been a long time because we've acquired a few anti-aging powers over the years. And nobody knows who we are because we've acquired a few mind-altering powers along the way. And those who disagree with what we do and aim to stop us always run in to a few... other... powers we've acquired along the way. \n\nThe world is as it is because this is the world that we built. Comic books started based on ideas that we planted decades ago. Medieval legends of magic and sorcerers were built based on what we allowed commoners to see of us. Ancient Roman gods were concocted based on what we did. \n\nAll Supers that exist today exist either because we made them or because we approved of them, good and bad. Politicians exist because we allow them to exist. Corporations and CEOs serve us at our whim. And of course none of them has any idea who or what we are. \n\nWe're coming close to the culmination of our big plan for the planet. A few more thousand years and we'll have an entirely new playground available to us. And who knows *what kind* of powers life on other planets may have..."
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[WP] You live as a ghost, but your physical body became a zombie with a metal skeleton, and a living skeleton. and your brain was transferred to a robotic body, and you found out that you were unknowingly part of a cloning process. Okay, this is getting ridiculous
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The noise was tremendous in the room.\nGhost Derek sighed. \"You guys-\"\n\nSkeleton Derek clattered his jaws and began to squat for some reason and rattle his fingers across his own ribs like a washboard, making empty socket eye contact with Ghost Derek.\n\nZombie Derek jerked and spawned. \"DERREKK!\" It groaned, cracking it's shoulder as it stood with wobbly balance. \"ATTIC!\"\n\n\"I told you a thousand times, I can't get you into the attic, and I don't know why you want up there. Quit it.\"\n\n\"DEERREK! ATTIC?!\" The zombie oozed black bile from his lips, swiping at the air. \"Attic!!\"\n\n\"I can't get you into the fucking attic!\" Ghost Derek screamed, hovering off the earth. \"I can't get you into the fucking attic! It's a miracle I got you into the fucking living room!\"\n\nThe door opened. Another Derek entered, flesh and blood. Everyone turned in surprise. Skeleton Derek's jaw dropped.\n\nZombie Derek flew into a rage, charging forward, his teeth sinking into New Derek's flailing flesh. New Derek abruptly grew sheepen wool and hooves, decking Zombie Derek in the head.\n\n\"ATTIC!\" Zombie Derek yelled.\n\n\"What the fuck is happening?\" Ghost Derek shrugged, glancing between the three. \"What the fuck is even happening? Ya know what? I'm going to Hell.\"\n\nHe sank into.the floor, leaving now fully transformed Sheep Derek, Skeleton Derek, and Zombie Derek in the living room.\n\nSkeleton Derek stood up, then turned to Sheep Derek. It shrugged.\n\nSheep Derek dropped dead, then reanimated. A ghost of a sheep/human hybrid cloud raised out if the corpse.\n\n\"..well, God damn it.\""
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[WP] "Groundhog Day" with a twist... The day repeats, but the character they experience the day as may change.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\n\n\nVickie was never one to believe in fate. She never believed that no matter what you did some things were just going to happen anyway. But being stuck in a time loop reliving the same day over and over again has started to change her mind. She’s not sure how many times the day has happened but no matter what she does it ends the same way. \n\nAs she looks out to the sea just outside her small town in Maine, her dread turns to daydreams about life on the sea. Then like clockwork, her phone rings. \n\n“Maybe if I just ignore it…maybe if I just…run.”\n\nShe stretches a hand out towards the sea and the phone finally goes to voice mail. She ignores already knowing what’s on it. No matter what she does to try and prevent it, someone in her house finds her brother's drunken fiancee trying to steal their mother’s jewelry. What ensues from there is a huge fight between that member of the family and her brother. \n\nShe sighs and walks down to the beach. She sits as close as she can to the water and tears start slowly rolling down her cheeks. All she wanted was for tomorrow to come. For her family to work out their argument. Eventually, without realizing it Vickie drifts off to sleep…\n\n————————————————————————————————-\n\nNick groans as he prepares for another trip around the horn. He’s grown sick of this day. Hell, he was sick of it the first time he lived it, let alone the second, third, fourth, and so on. Everything started normally, just another boring, mind-numbing day at school. The only thing that kept Nick's spirits up was the naughty texts he received from his “girlfriend” during class. \n\nThen, sixth period rolled around and it was time for gym. As he walked to the gym, he considered skipping the class altogether. But then, like the other loops, his mother’s voice bellowed through his head. He sighed and went away even though he knew what was going to happen…\n\n“Check out the fag everyone!”\n\nBilly’s voice rang through the locker room as Trey Nestor stumbled, and skidded across the locker room. Trey always had a habit of changing in the bathroom instead of the locker room. It was no big deal, until this day when he forgot to lock the stall door. Billy opened it and found out exactly why Trey insisted on changing alone. \n\n“My, my Nestor, such a pretty bra.”\n\nNick was content to ignore it. He figured it was better to let Trey suffer than stick his nose into trouble. But this day was different. This time as Billy pulled Trey up by his hair, Nick locked eyes with Trey. He stood up like his body had a mind of its own. For the first time in he couldn’t remember how many years, Nick was the kid always willing to stick his neck out to do the right thing again. \n\n“Put him down asshole.”\n\nBilly smirks and Nick shrugs. Nick then shoots his leg out, driving his foot into Billy’s midsection. Trey gets free and Billy tackles Nick. The two continue to fight until the other students and gym coaches jump in and separate them…\n\n————————————————————————————————\n\n“Here we fucking go again…”\n\nKyle rolled out of bed and changed into his school uniform. It was his first day at his new high school after his family moved during summer break. He goes through his morning routine as usual, and hops on the bus’s here, once again, it begins. \n\nThe three freshmen that sit behind him already heard the rumors. The gay slurs didn’t hurt as much at his old school, mainly because most of the kids either didn’t have a problem with Kyle or just didn’t express it to his face. But these three goons had a lot of pent-up gay insults and couldn’t wait to let them out. Kyle just sighed and tried to tune them out…again. \n\nThe teasing continued for a bit once inside the school but then the four went spectate ways. As had happened the last couple of loops, Kyle seemed to be getting along well with his homeroom classmates then they showed up again. This time though, he decided to try something different. He picked up his bag, stood up, and took off. \n\nHe knew they’d follow but he was hoping someone might step in if he made a scene out of the ordeal…they didn’t. He found refuge in a seemingly empty classroom. But just before the trio of goons crossed through the door, they stopped in their tracks and headed the other way. \n\nKyle breathed a sigh of relief but he wasn’t out of the woods just yet. He turned to see another student in the room with him. Though this student seemingly stopped the bullying temporarily, he didn’t exactly look friendly either. \n\n“S-sorry…”\n\nKyle took off again back to his first class. Later that day, Tiffany, a girl that Kyle met in homeroom, approached him in the hallway.\n\n“Cub wants to talk to you.”\n\n“Whose Cub?”\n\n“The scary dude you ran into earlier.” \n\n“Man things spread quickly around here.”\n\n“Yep, don’t worry though he’s not as scary as he looks.”\n\nShe pats him on the shoulder and goes about her day. During study hall, Kyle went down to the same room where he ran into Cub the first time and sure enough found the tall, intimidating Cub waiting for him. \n\n“Hi, I’m so sorry I treaded on your turf dude. I was just trusting to lose those thr-“\n\n“What’s your name?”\n\n“Name? Kyle…Kyle Landers, freshman, new student, gay.”\n\n“Babbler.”\n\n“Only when I’m nervous Cub.”\n\nCub scoffed and walked towards Kyle. Instinctively, Kyle backed up. Cub stretched out his hand. \n\n“Michael Kenders, sophomore, also gay. Don’t worry about those three idiots, or anyone else. I’ve got your back now.”\n\nKyle breathed a sigh of relief and shook Cubs hand…"
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[WP] some rare few do a deal with the devil, but somehow, you accidentally contacted the sandman with your ritual. in return for considerable compensation you have worked as a dreaming mercenary 22 hours a day for the last 40 years, but you've just turned in you 6 months notice
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"No, no,\" I said. \"The work is fine. In fact, I like it. It's the compensation that's getting me down.\"\n\nThe Sandman frowned, but not angrily. After four decades, I knew him well enough to recognize concern. \"You don't like it? But it was your own wish.\"\n\n\"I know,\" I said. \"It's certainly not your fault.\" I hesitated. \"Look, do you remember how I ended up contacting you instead of Satan?\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" replied the Sandman. \"You wished to be every man's dream, and your wish went astray to the Land of Dreams.\"\n\nI nodded. \"That's the problem. I made that wish as a naïve 19-year-old.\"\n\n\"And you've grown tired of the constant attention?\"\n\nI nodded again. \"There are just too many men who don't understand the word 'no.' I mean, most men are okay, but there are some ....\" I shuddered, remembering a few narrow escapes.\n\nThe Sandman watched me thoughtfully. \"You're a valued member of the Dream Team. I hate to lose you. Would you consider a reassignment with additional compensation?\"\n\n\"Making me *more* attractive? Good grief, no!\" \n\n\"Hear me out,\" he said. \"If you stay, I will grant another gift. From now on, you will choose whether to be each man's fondest dream ... or his worst nightmare.\"\n\nAs I considered the possibilities, my face broke out in a huge smile. \"Let's sign that contract.\""
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[WP] Every time you see a mirror you are sent to an alternate reality exactly the same.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Everyone now thinks I'm insane. \n\nI've been aware of what's been happening to me since I was a teenager, but I never had the guts to tell anyone about what I've been dealing with because I was sure they will never understand. \n\nStill, everyone at least thought I was a huge creep because my \"mirror phobia\" was \"ridiculous\" ,\"made up for attention\" or even \"an excuse to not see how ugly I am\".\n\n Those lucky bastards. I wish they could have experienced it. At least once. The pain. The feeling of detaching yourself from your body. Of being sucked by a ferocious force that, in miliseconds that feel like eternity, rips your fucking soul away from you body while you can't do nothing to fight against it. Only scream on the inside because your body won't respond. Even if you focus every fiber of your being on moving a finger, you can't escape that constrictive feeling... and then you are finally at the same place... except you're not... and you can feel it but it's better to ignore it. Everything is exactly the same after all. But I still know that it's another place, a copycat, and that the people I know and love are not there anymore... \n\n\"How many times have I jumped already?\". That question was lingering on my mind the last time I saw my psychiatrist, mr.Garcia, a fairly old men who was gentle enough to be the only person I've ever met to not be creeped out from my weird phobia. I remember that he was talking to me in his usual calm voice but I couldn't focus on what he was saying. I was way too focused remembering the pain, and thinking about my true parents. Where are they? I've jumped from reality to reality so many times that I don't even know if the ones I'm living with right now are the real ones or just a mere copy, and I starded to miss them, a lot, and I began to cry. \n\nWhen my Garcia asked what was wrong I broke down completly, I told him everything and as expected he didn't believe me. He didn't told me directly but he though I was completly insane. I could tell just by looking at his face. His posture changed completelly into a defensive stance and the usual calm look on his eyes shifted into a deeply worried look. And that made me angry, and scared, and I began to call him out, and he responded. One word led to another, and I was getting more and more heated and without realizing it I began shouting. It was then when he slapped me, and I finally lost it. All those years of agony were drained in the body of that poor man. I went in, punch after punch after punch after punch, while I was crying and screaming like a maniac. I finally stopped once I realized that bellow my fist, his once calming face had become a bloody mess... and he wasn't moving at all. \n\nAt the time I realized he was dead and throughout my judgment I was unbeliavebly scared for my future, and I couldn't forgive myself for doing something so horrible to mr. Garcia. But now that I'm here, sitting on this white empty room with not one mirror in sight, I realised that I should have probably done this from the start. I finally chuckled when I got the enlightened realization that I should do it again once I get out of here because I don't ever, EVER, want to see one fucking mirror again.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\nI've been a lurker on this sub for a while but this is the first time that I actually write something, I hope you like it and I would really apreciate the feedback :)\n\nAlso, I'm not a native english speaker so if there are any gramatical errors please let me know!"
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[WP] You are a rookie mugger, aspiring to be as great as lupin and what have you. Then at your first mugging night, your victim appears to be... very 'excited' by your mugging.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I put my coat on.\n\nMy boots as well. \n\nPut my gun in my pocket.\n\nThis was the night.\n\nI headed out to the worse part of town. It was a cold autumn night, about 11 pm. The chilly wind blew open a window in nearby apartment building, which was quickly and quietly closed shut by a sleepy woman. Dogs were barking all over, cats had retreated inside and those that didn't, retreated into the shadows.\n\nI walked past a bar, a bar closed all day long but open at night. The perfect time for drowning sorrows in booze and conversation.\n\nThe night was relaxed, quite to the contrary to myself. I remembered my \"practice\". I had no idea how to train for this, so I focused on what I could; I got familiar with my gun, trained for hand to hand fighting and listened to a speech class on youtube to make myself more intimidating. \n\nBut actually being there... there weren't judges, rules or limits. I would do what I had to do to get the poor bastard to give me his valuables. \n\nThen I got to a small secluded path by the river. On the left was a small old bridge, I was sorrounded by trees to my right and the river to the left. \n\nAnd then a man came into view.\n\nHe wore a tri - fold suit, jeans and a fedora. He also carried with him a Mark Twain like moustache. \n\nHe looked at me, sighed and looked to the ground.\n\nI put my hand in my pocket as he slowly looked up at me. \n\nHe looked me straight into my eyes.\n\nI drew my gun, aiming it at him. \n\nThen I said calmly. \n\n\"Give me anything valuable on you. Any watches, phone, money. Hand it over.\n\nHe smiled and calmly hand over a golden watch. \"That is it friend\" he said, sounding almost dissapointed.\n\nI put the watch in my pocket and ran, keeping my sights on him for as long as I had line of sight, holstering it as soon as that was gone. \n\nI walked quickly for a good 500 meters. Then I stopped.\n\nI looked around me.\n\nAnd I took a deep breath.\n\nAnd walked into the main street, slowly, towards my apartment. \n\nI walked past the bar I had passed previously.\n\nAnd right there, sitting behind a table, was the man I had robbed. \n\nMy eyes widened, and I froze, only to be suddenly startled as he said \"take a seat friend\".\n\nI couldn't refuse. \n\nI took a seat and whispered.\n\n\"What do you want?\"\n\n\"Nothing. I just want to talk.\"\n\nThe bar slowly emptied.\n\n\"What is your name?\"\n\nI hesitantly told him my name. He did likewise.\n\n\"Follow me\" he said as he stood up.\n\nI had no choice, but to do so. Atleast I felt like that was the case.\n\nHe walked down the street.\n\nIt suddenly became silent. No car could be seen. No dog heard. No smell of smoke coming from bars.\n\nWe walked down the boulevard.\n\nWe came to a door. \n\nWe looked inside. \n\nIt was an empty room, remeniscent of an abandoned building.\n\nWe walked inside.\n\nAnd like I had blinked we were standing in the same room, but something was different. \n\nThe street was wild.\n\nSounds of so many cars, no less voices, the smell of gasoline in the air.\n\nHe looked at me.\n\nAnd he opened the door. \n\nAs if ambushing us, several men armed with rifles sorrounded us, knocking me on the floor and cuffing my hands.\n\nThe man, rather than suffering a similiar fate, stepped away and stood next to the men. \n\n\"See you at the station\" he said. One of the armed men nodded.\n\nI was taken to a truck and driven to an unknown location, yet the sounds of the street giveaway that I was not far from civilisation.\n\nThe doors to the truck were opened and I stepped out. I was sorrounded by armed men. \n\nThe man was standing there, handing over a strange device to a man dressed in blue, saying \"here he is and here is the evidence. If you ever need me, you know where to find me\". \n\nI was taken to hall, where a man sat on top. They used words I did not understand, confusing me to no end. I had no word in the proceedings. \n\nWha I did understand was \"Sir, you are sentenced to a life sentence in a maximum security prison\". \n\nHe knocked twice with his hammer and I was taken to a very long car.\n\nI was taken to the prison. \n\nAs I sat in the eating hall, I could see a television. On it was displayed:\n\n\"A famous robber known for robbing the gold reserves and several other banks, as well known for mugging high end persons was arrested and taken to the maximum security jail today\".\n\nNot once was the man mentioned."
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[WP] you move into a house only to find out its haunted but its not just any ghost it's you. Man time travels crazy
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Startled out of a comfortable sleep, I reach for my phone for a light as it guided me to the kitchen where I searched for the noise of cabinets slamming and objects moving around. Nothing peculiar stood out from my inspection.\n\nI decided to leave the hallway light on in case it startled me again as there may be a rodent. My night was already disturbed enough so I decide to sleep on the couch so I can catch the bandit in mid-act. A couple hours go by before I peak my eyes at something in the less luminate part of the living room. It was someone, a transient orb hovering in a less than ominous fashion. They wave to my attention inaudibly but I'm not woken completely by them. It was as though my own reflection offered a comfortable meditation but I was able to interpret the figure's cautionary message. Intermittently, I got up from the couch still exhausted as I peaked at the kitchen once more.\n\nNothing out of the ordinary. Turning back to my bedroom, I glance back at the dim-lighted corner. They are still there. They are pointing at the kitchen. Yes, I'm aware. It's why I'm up so past my bed time. But why? They extend a frustrated arm, pointing at the burner where I attempted pot of soup. Their advance made me hostile as this wasn't a comfortable interaction, so I stepped toward the orb whomst unwelcomed their stay. Their existence evaporated back into oblivion.\n\nI shine a light to make sure that the figure is gone from my home, turning back around the kitchen and noticing a whispering noise coming from the stove as I threw my hand to the adjuster until it gave a clicking sound to signal that it was off. **Carbon monoxide.**"
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[WP] You're a world-renown detective who's sold half your soul to the devil for your success. Unbeknownst to you, the devil actually only took the half when you're asleep. Now recently, there's been a string of midnight murders, and the devil is using your body to commit them.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"This is it, Alfred\", his pupils dilated as he started going through the 5th news article on the murder. He only felt this when he knew this case would challenge him. He was completely intoxicated in Catecholamines, his brain was racing, his upper lip had sweat droplets form over them as he marched in his gown from the kitchen into the reading room.\n\n\"We have to take this case. This is the 3rd time he has struck\"\n\n\"I am rather amused at your response than the incident itself. I am sure you are aware that this is real news and not a murder mystery novel, right Tannus?\", Alfred looked at Tannus with concerned eyes. They had been living for the past 3 years and every case solved made Tannus look ever less human. \n\n\"How the jolly f\\*\\*k did he become like this?\", Alfred eyed Tannus as he was getting ready to make the calls to be pulled into the case. \"I would've rather preferred him slouching on the bed on a continuous swipe streak on your tablet than seeing you as you are now, obsessed\"\n\nTannus had a clean line of a smirk on the left side of his face. He was ready to head to the crime scene. \n\n\"This is going to be a big hit! I am definitely going to crack this retard down in no time. I was right to have made the deal with that thing. Right or not, now this moment is mine to seize and no one can stop me.\" He laughed inside but Alfred could see a big smile on his face and was ever more concerned. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Have you been sleeping well?\"\n\n\"Huh? How do you mean?\"\n\n\"Well you seeming to be leaving late at night these days and that too quite often\"\n\n\"You need to manage your drinks, Alfred. I am pretty sure your beverage of a cocktail is rotting that already rotten brain of yours\"\n\n\"F\\*\\*k you! I mean what I was saying and I never go all out as you do\"\n\nThey had reached the place. \n\nThe atmosphere was morose. Unlike other places where Tannus used to be the pain in the bum, here nobody seemed to have noticed his witty ass. \n\n\"Where is it?\", he asked Inspector Giovanni who seemed to be washing his face after his umpteenth puke. \n\n\"It...\", his voice was muffled as he covered his mouth in a towel, \"It's on the 2nd floor, 3rd door to the right.\"\n\n\"Brace yourself for this. This is the work of the devil\"\n\nA spark ran down, Tannus's face. Hearing the word out in the open was like getting caught pick pocketing. \n\n\"Since when did you start sweating?\", guffawed Alfred as he showed the way to the 2nd floor\n\nTannus however was frozen. He seemed to be aware of the place. He knew what was behind that door. He knew how many steps lead to the 2nd floor and he knew what had happened to the boy in vivid detail.\n\nAlfred nervously pushed the door open while Tannus was still finishing his flight of stairs and was a few feet behind him.\n\n\"The body of the boy will be there in the room pointing North East on his bed. His eyes, however, would be glued to the ceiling.\"\n\nAlfred stood shocked...\n\n\"How did you.....know\", he turned towards Tannus with sincere doubt and concern. Tannus, himself was sweating profusely, the same chemicals of his brain were active now but it was no longer a fight, it was sheer fear instead\n\n\"The door to the room gradually pulled itself closed\"\n\nSmeared in blood, intestine, pieces of meat, and whatnot on the wall was written...\n\n\"**THE OTHER HALF IS MINE :)\"**"
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[WP] A faction of holy knights have been slaughtering countless people in the name of the Goddess of Light, problem is you are the Goddess of Light and have grown tired of them using your name to justify murder, so you decide to deal with it.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"You are tired of this \"Knight\" faction slaughtering your followers. They're currently massacring a religion that worships the same goddess of light, its just that its named slightly differently.\n\nLast month they burned one of the biggest cities that worshipped you to the ground. It will take probably decades to fix, and all of it was over the fact that they worshipped me slightly differently. There is an unspoken agreement between gods to not interfere with the world of mortals.\n\nYou decide to send a holy envoy, You tell them something along the lines of \"Please stop killing my followers because they worship me under a different name or worship me slightly differently.\" And the response? The envoy is cut down in the middle of the camp.\n\nMore envoys are sent, with the exact same result.\n\nSome envoys even commit miracles to show that they are legit, but again are cut down. Your unsure if this is a knight faction or a terrorist organization. Even when I beamed down an envoy in the middle of the camp it was still murdered on some baseless claim.\n\nYou come down yourself, manifesting yourself a quarter mile away from the knight camp. In this human form you can still use all your powers. When you arrive at the camp and ask for an audience with the camp commander, you get stabbed. You die, and just respawn in heaven.\n\nEventually, you come down with an army and say \"Stop killing my followers or random people in my name or I will sentence every member of your organization, current or former to feel the experience of burning for 10,000 years, then they will constantly drown for 30,000 years!\"\n\nThe fact that their patron goddess is angry with them gives the defenders enough morale to fight the \"crusaders\" back. You watch with joy when the \"crusade\" dissolves from the lack of your support.",
"“Where is she?” Shouted sir Charles one of the holy knights \n\n“The voice said she would be right here on a few moments” from sir Kalyan \n\nThe band of 50 or so the the crusading knights which had been raiding and traveling dismounted their horses and walked up to sunset peaks inner circle.\n\nIn a flash the horses took off faster than light itself thanks to me the goddess of well light. The knights knelt before me in silken robes now orange and red on the setting sun. “Goddess we have slain many unbelievers in your name” “what do you wish to communicate” I\n“I want to know why you slay people that work and live under the light of the sun”\n“Oh great goddess we have been cleaning the earth of unbelievers and donating their possessions to your cause” “Oh really great knights? Then why haven’t I received any sacrifices or seen anything done with these items won by you?” Some knights that hadn’t done any killing and just moved this loot stirred and the ones that had killed people looked at each other. “Do you great holy knights of the goddess know of some of the powers of light?” Again more worried looks and stirring. “Well now let’s have a demonstration!” With a wave I blind the men and leave. The strongest knights get up armor melting and many items bleached from light. Looking around in light like sunlight they spot the moon"
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[WP] I always thought of the angels as flying benevolent God servants. Some bible descriptions said that they were more than 20ft tall so I expected them to be mighty. But now that they are here, I fell like a jellyfish under an aircraft carrier, unable to comprehend what could cause such a shadow.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"As I watched the skies darken in the rearview mirror behind me, I realized that we shouldn’t have been bold enough to think that we would know what was coming.\n\nWe had thought angels were benevolent beings, humans with wings and white robes and halos and holy light - how wrong we were. These angels were terrifying beasts - if they were even alive - gliding silently across the land. Swaths of land were covered by their shadows, soon ensnared by their probes and feelers. After they were gone, the sun didn’t return to where these angels had been - the land stayed dark and dead. The angels’ shadows never truly left, infecting the land beneath as some fled, while others went willingly to the angels’ grasp. Internationally, there were over a dozen, and all were the same bubbling masses of grey flesh floating above the land. Some countries took aggressive action, to no avail, while others, more religiously-minded, let them do as they please.\n\nIt led to the disappearance of millions.\n\nIt was the rapture, some had said. It’s the end of the world, others warned. Whatever their beliefs, the fact that millions had just disappeared off the planet, whether saved or abducted by these angels, could not be denied. \n\nAnd over the course of weeks, huge portions of the globe had gone dark. The angels had cleansed massive chunks of land, prioritizing large cities and population centers. Sin was cleansed, sure, but everything else was cleansed along with it- nothing was left behind except a grey wasteland in an unending night. And as more people disappeared, we noticed that the angels seemed to be getting larger and faster.\n\nI had run. My family was religious and had chosen to stay behind as the North American angel had devoured our hometown, and I had heard nothing since. I couldn’t go back, running the risk of driving under the angel and being cleansed myself. I felt like a coward, but the silence of millions disappearing can be deafening. I just kept my foot on the gas pedal, trying to take my mind off of the expanding grey behind me. Some cars were heading in the same direction as I was, away from this monstrosity - others were speeding towards it, convinced that it was a savior.\n\nThese angels were changing the face of the planet, and not a single soul knew whether it was for better or for worse. ",
"A bit different than I imagined. Scarier. Horrifying actually. There were three of them. All hovering ahead in a terrifying triangle. Imagine the essence of hell and dirt and blood and history all mixed into one being, that’s what they look like. Their giant, no colored eyes stare down at me as I sit on the bench. The sky had become a deep purple and low hum echoed through the valley. Then, it spoke. Not aloud, just to me.\n“Why are you here?” it asks me.\nI know what it’s asking. I sit there, and just look at it. It’s honestly beautiful, but in a terrifying way.\nThen it speaks again, this time I can’t tell if it spoke aloud or just to me.\n“You have disrupted God’s Plan, you should’ve died….about one hour ago.”",
"Light flooded the entire globe, when the Gates of Heaven opened. \nAngels were coming to help us, and everybody was curious as to what they look like. \nI've personally have always been fan of both fiction, and fantasy, so I've seen quite a lot of different depictions of angels, even read the bible to see there what they look like, so I was pretty open minded, thinking that they might look in a million ways. \nBut...But when I saw the shadows they casted I was...I was confuse... \n\"What could ever cause such a weird shadow?\" \nI thought to myself.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe blinding light decreased in intensity by the minute, so I could see more and more. \nThe shadows I could see were winding, snaking across the ground, looking like leafless branches. \nI tried to look up, but the light was still too strong for my eyes to look directly at them. \nI tried to search my memories for what could ever make such a shadow, but I couldn't imagine it.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThen, the light dimmed a lot, and finally, I could take a glance at the angels directly. \nThey were...beautiful, and mesmerising. \nSuch a form that was described in many novels, and bible alike. \nAnd now, I could actually see them in real life. \nThey were...they were a mass of light.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nA huge mass of light, covered in thin, but almost endless pieces of cloth, winding around them. \nThe pieces of cloth were the ones making the shadows, while the mass of light was continuously dimming, and shrinking in size. \nThe pieces of cloth were getting shorter by the minute, starting to cover the angels true form. \n\"They are transforming into another form.\" \nI thought to myself.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAs the angels were getting closer to the ground, I was curious on what form they might take. \nWill they be winged humans, of unbelievable beauty? \nOr will they be in a form that human words can't describe? \nEven now, as bodies of pure light, the emanate warmth, safety, and a holy aura, that is hard for me to properly experience, let alone explain. \nNot long after they appeared, close to me, 2 bodies of light now condensed into roughly human sizes, and humanoid shapes, with the pieces of cloth quickly moving around them. \nIt seems...It seems they will take on human like shapes.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nIn front of me there were 2 angels, that slowly took up human forms. \nOne, became a woman, tall, with long red hair, and perfect sandy skin. \nShe had pure sky blue eyes, and blood red lips. \nThe other, became a man, extremely tall, with short pitch black hair, and perfect pale white skin. \nHe had pure sky blue eyes. \nThe pieces of clothes around them finished transforming. \nThe woman, got a spring green dress, with a sword hanging at her waist, while the man got a royal blue suit, with a 2 handed sword tied to his back. \n\"\\*%$\\^$&%$\\^\" \nThe woman said, before raising a finger and smiling. \nShe gestured me to wait, realising that I couldn't understand them.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nSoon, both the woman and man started trying and speaking syllables. \nNot long after, they could properly speak English. \n\"Greetings, little human, we came to help you.\" \nThe woman said, in the sweetest, and the most soothing voice I've ever heard. \n\"Help us? Finally we will get a hand to deal with diseases, famine, and things like this?\" \nI asked, but the nerd in me already knew the answer when I saw the weapons. \nThe woman giggled, while the man scoffed. \n\"We came to teach you how to battle against demons. \nA war is coming, and it will be waged on Earth.\" \nThe man said, in a hoarse, powerful voice.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nRight then, a heatwave washed over the place we were at. \nBoth angels sighed. \n\"It happened already. We have barely a few months.\" \nThe woman said. \nI quickly entered my house, with the 2 following me. \nI searched the internet, and saw that a humongous flaming hole appeared in Romania. \nIt was the Gates to Hell. \nI sighed.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nLooking back to the 2 angels, I smiled, and steeled my nerves. \n\"When we will start training?\" \nI asked. \n\"Now.\" \nThe woman said, smiling, while bright light flooded my house, changing it completely. \nThe next few months were actually years in that white room, where everything could be done. \nWhen we came out of my house, war horns flooded the skies, and earth...war was here."
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[WP] You have the ability to transfer your memories to anyone you want. You go out on vacations, on adventures and come back and sell those experiences for a hefty price.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"You don't have anything better?\" The man is visibly pissed.\n\nAnger and scorn are competing for first place on his face. He is clutching the previz pad with a grip that tells me either he is going to burst a vessel or I am going to make an appointment with my dentist very soon. The fact that the pad is cable-linked to the back of my neck doesn't help with keeping a safe distance.\n\n\"I am sorry, this is all I can sell for now,\" I reply.\n\n\"You've got to be joking! How is that the best you've got? I'm paying good money, so why don't you show me something that's actually worth it?\"\n\nThat last one hits me. Hard. It is not the first time, of course. Or at least I suspect it is not. But you cannot get used to it. It is crushing me. I feel it welling up in me, rise like an overflowing river. I dare not lift my head and look him in the eyes. I could not stand it. I would break for sure.\n\n\"I think it's a good one,\" I say meekly.\n\n\"Yeah well, maybe it is, but it's certainly not worth two gran. Either you give me something else, or the deal is off,\" he says menacingly, handing me the previz pad.\n\nI close my eyes and sigh. What does one know about the worth of a memory, anyway? Sure, they have managed to put metrics on it. Clarity, empathy potential, emotional level, all thatsort of things. All in neat graphs and plots, ready for analysis and marketing and consumption. They have standardized the value of human memory. A whole new market. A whole new way to prey on the people. This guy in front of me is just another consumer, and I'm just another provider, that's what he would say. There's competition, and there are big corporations also employing people just to experience and sell their memories. He can go elsewhere, he would say.\n\n\"Fine,\" I whisper. I grab the pad and put my thumb on the fingerprint scanner as I callanother memory from my head. The device blips and some graphs appear as the memory plays itself on the previz monitor. They finish stabilizing and display a score. I hand him back the pad hesitantly, which he grabs promptly, almost tearing it away from me. He looks at the screen and grins.\n\n\"See, now we're talking!\" he gloats as he plugs a small cartridge to the side of the pad.\n\n\"Here's for you,\" he says as he hands me a thick envelop.\n\nI open it and count absentmindedly.\n\n\"Make it quick. I'm getting soaked in this rain,\" he adds, clutching the collar of his coat. Like he is the only one standing there in this godforsaken alley in the middle of the night.\n\n\"Two gran,\" I just say as confirmation.\n\n\"Then...\" and he hands me back the pad expectantly with the cartridge still in it.\n\nThe device shows a capital \"CONFIRM?\" with a prompt for my fingerprint again. I contemplate the possibility of hitting him in the nuts and running for it with the money. Just a fleeting thought.\n\nI press my thumb on the pad. My mind goes blank for a second, and I can \"feel\" thememory leaving me. It is not painful because they have developed a sort of numbing signal, but it was originally. The mind fights it with all its might. The process is nothing like forgetting. It is quite literally stealing. So the mind normally erects barriers, which the device shatters, leaving psychological scars and broken people. Instead, now, you just feel empty. But that's not all of it.\n\n\"Pleasure to do business with you,\" the man says as he slips the cartridge into his pocket and disappear after the corner.\n\nI slump on the wet cobblestone. Tears roll down my cheeks as I cry like a child. You can't shake the feeling of losing something. Even if you numb it, the mind knows it's been robbed. Where there should have been something, only void remains. And I know I have lost something important. Something worth two gran, apparently. I cannot say anylonger, I don't remember, but I feel that it was invaluable. But I need the money. I need it like all the rest of poor sods who cannot pay their rent, afford food or put their kids to school. I need it like all the others who have nothing left but their body and their mind to sell. Just to keep on living, because even when we don't remember who we are, we refuse to die. Our nature dictates that we try and live no matter what. That is how you end up like me, crying under the rain, in the middle of the night, clutching some worthless paper in my hand. Crying over thefact that I'll never know who were these kids and this woman on the display.",
"There is no celebration. No flashing lights. No encore demands. Life is dull, repetitive, monotonous, normal. The clock turns from 4:58 to 4:59PM. There is one final minute of waiting. The flood of memories, both real and desired, fill my brain in those last 60 seconds. All but one memory that is. 5 o’clock. The timesheet is punched, and I have regained ownership of my life. I am no longer selling the finite resource of life while the gluttonous exchange what time I have left to enrich the time left in theirs. Only the server fans can be heard in the darkness as the light switch hangs its head, for it too has done its job for the day. 8 hours of mindlessly staring at the screen is over. 24 stairs, 7 songs, 5 commercials, 2 poorly executed radio-DJ jokes, and a 35-minute drive are all that remain between the walls that know me by an employee ID number, and the walls that I know as home. \r \n\r \nEverything is familiar on this street. Trees, neglected toys in front yards, the lack of parking, the dog barking on queue as another Amazon package is delivered to his front door. Faces I’ve never seen all blend together. Meaningless to my life, just as I am to theirs. We coexist within feet of each other, yet our only shared effort is reflected in the pooled utility bill from the complex. All interactions are recognized by my mind as it stores them away into parts already illuminated by the past. There is only one dark, empty spot that remains. A memory that is no longer mine. \r \n\r \nA gust of air hits me in the face with the expected temperature change as I go from outside into the most familiar place I know. Greeted by the warm blast at the door, next up is the welcoming hug and kiss from my girlfriend. Gust. Hug. Kiss. Change. Restroom. Drink. Dinner. Movie. All so familiar. All components of a routine so familiar that there is no longer any thought required. All filed and stored away in my mind. These are different. These memories surround the empty spot of the lost memory. The vibrancy of those memories leave that blank space feeling even darker. A buzz from the toothbrush lets me know that there are only 30 seconds left before I am able to sleep.\r \n\r \nThe first escape from the mundane is within reach. A dream state in which nothing is familiar, everything is exciting, the chemicals in my brain only working to serve me and my own selfish desires. There is no longer a need to please anybody else. This time is for me. The ceiling light goes off. Two soft glows are all that is left as I try to get that last bit of social media serotonin in. A kiss goodnight, the alarms are set and the phones are away. The only sound left is the box fan reminding me that in just a few hours I will be back in the server room, another day sold to the highest bidder. I lay there for a second, waiting to close my eyes, turning the bland to vibrant as I let my fantasies run wild as I sleep. \r \n\r \nA quick turn to my stomach so I can check off another box of a familiar sleeping position to allow my body to rest. My eyes close. It is finally time for my brain to take over, to let me indulge in the fictitious pride, greed, and lust that my real-world envy craves. As I drift, the vibrancy of delusion fills my eyelids like a movie screen. This is my time to escape. But it’s gone. There is no more color. No more light. No sound. My eyes will not open. Black. Empty. Cold. I’ve been lured in by my own desires, swept away to the pits of my own mind while distracted by what could have been. \r \n\r \nThe desolation of this place brings panic. I can feel my body struggling to wake itself up, but to no avail. This place is not familiar. It makes the tedium of life feel secure. In the distance I can hear the voice of my girlfriend fading as she calls out for me to wake up. As her voice fades, there is a small light I am being hurled towards. Her voice stops, as does the panic. The darkness becomes familiar. I have managed to take myself deep into what I once believed to be the blank space of an old memory that has been sold away. I now know where I am. An envelope with my name written in my own hand is all that joins me. It has been locked away, seemingly stored only as an emergency reminder of what I had lost.\r \n\r \nDo I open it? Do I need to know what I have given up to be able to fill this hole and climb out? Or will the weight of this knowledge forever bury me into the darkness in my own mind? I have to. I cannot go on with the fear of being sucked into this pit in my mind every time I sleep. Deep inhale, slow and controlled exhale. I am ready. I run my finger beneath the seal flap, and carefully remove the note I’ve left for myself. Unfolding the paper, I take one final breath, fully accepting that whatever I have locked away for this long could be there for a good reason. I open the note to read the haunting reminder: “You have just lost the game”.",
"For as long as I can recall, I have had a special ability. As a child, teachers told me I was gifted, unique. I didn't feel that different to any one else, it is just that I have a... knack, I suppose of transferring memories into other people's minds. Letting them live vicariously, through my experiences, you could say.\n\nIt all began when I received my first letter.\n\nThank you, for letting me escape my life for a while. Life can be hard, especially when I think too much. But you let me escape my existence for a short time. I don't know how I can thank you.\n\nFrom that small seed of encouragement, I decided to help as many people as I could. I labored every waking hour of every single day to share with people with my memories and experiences. It was not well paid, initially. But the more I shared, the more the interest grew, until it was exponential and everyone wanted my memories. Deals were made, money exchanged hands, and I was suddenly being paid to visit exotic locations, and experience adventures, so that I can share those experiences too.\n\nOne of my old teachers came and visited me at a book signing a couple of years ago. \"I'm glad you kept up the writing, you always were gifted.\" And that, is the abridged story of my writing career so far. I plan to share as many memories, whether experienced or imagined, for many more years yet.",
"I stood and watched as they ran inside. There was more I wanted to say, but they were in such a hurry that they just slapped a check in one hand and swiped the vial from my other.\n\nI don't know how long I stood there for. My arm was still stretched out, their check just hanging limply between my fingers. I look down at it.\n\n*$250,000*\n\nThey even added a bonus. They weren't rich, I knew that for a fact. If they were well off, they definitely aren't anymore after all this. I wouldn't be surprised if this was the last of their savings.\n\nI thought about walking in and handing them back the check and explaining to them that there's no way I can charge them. Maybe they'll be touched by the nice gesture. Maybe a cute nurse notices my virtuous deed and we start up a conversation. Maybe the couple refuses and push the check back towards me.\n\n\"You've earned it.\" they'll say. Maybe.\n\nOr maybe they wouldn't even notice I was standing there next to them. Maybe they'd be simply be too preoccupied watching as their little boy experiences the memories I've made for him for the last 3 months. A world outside an ICU and free from tubes and monitors and ventilators and who knows what else. A life. A small portion of life, sure, but a normal life nonetheless.\n\nI notice something written in the notes.\n\n*For Harold. Thank you.*\n\nI turn towards my car, ripping the check to pieces as I walk.\n\nMaybe I've already been paid for this one.",
"“This can be a bonus for whichever idiot buys my latest memory.” I threw the golden skull away, watching as it tumbled onto my bed. I was almost saddened by how useless that skull had become, once an antique that people would kill each other for, now reduced to being a prop I used to sell my latest adventure.\n\n \n\nIn the memorological age of technology, memory transferring was the hottest trend. It was a way to experience new things without leaving the house, a way to solve murders by searching the victim’s mind and a way for people like me to make a hell of a lot of money. Although the initial promises that came with the discovery of the technology were revoked when they found out just how deadly the process was.\n\n \n\nI still remember watching the first livestream online displaying the Ata-memory1 device. A German scientist was surrounded by a group of his colleagues. Each posing for media photos before they shuffled out of frame, leaving the casually dressed man alone in what could best be described as a white, sterile operating chair. They lowered a set of thick rubber goggles over his eyes before placing a steel metallic cap over his head.\n\n \n\nI wasn’t sure what the rubber did? Perhaps stop his eyes from popping out? Regardless, the scientist’s confident smile soon faded into a shriek when the device turned on. The steel cap glowing with a black light, only to sizzle out after a few seconds. Unfortunately for the scientist, those few seconds were all the device needed to fry his brain. Poor guy didn’t stand a chance, even with them disabling the device after a few quick seconds.\n\n \n\nPublic interest waned after that initial live testing run. The public loved novelty, but they also enjoyed having their brains not turned into the equivalent of a pink jelly sludge. It took a few more years before anyone else dared try to replicate it. This time the testing conditions were far less open, done behind closed doors. After months of the announcement that Memox was trialing the product, they finally released a public version called Mem-os. \nAgain, interest rose in the art of memory transfer as people let their imaginations run wild, only to face the harsh realities of the technology’s limitations. The major limitation being that not every person could transfer memories. only 5% of the population could perform the transfer successfully. The other 95% would end up facing a similar fate to that unlucky scientist. But on the plus side, any human could receive the memories. It had something to do with the way our hippocampus had developed. A nurse tried to explain it to me, but I’m better at giving away my memories than remembering them.\n\n \n\nI crouched by the side of the bed, grabbing out my Mem-osX from under it. The device still in its original white case, that now had a few dust marks and stray orange marks of food flavoring. I set myself onto the bed beside the skull, opening the case to reveal the headset hidden underneath. It was like a generic vr headset, having a long protruding white eyepiece with a thin white metal covering that sat atop the person’s head. I plugged it in to a power socket before placing the device over my head, watching the bold Mem-osX logo appear before displaying an identification screen.\n\n \n\n“Scanning. Scanning. User identified as Luke Fuller, please give your password.” The device said, awaiting my response.\n\n \n\n“Getrich.” I responded, a bright green check mark flashing onto the screen before it allowed me to access the options. The options were simple. They only made this device for the extraction of memories. Any of the selling and marketing was done on a computer later. I had three choices. Review footage, upload new memory and support. I went with upload.\n\n \n\nOn the upload screen a small prompt came up informing me that the prior 24 hours of the upload and the following 24 after the memory would be manually reviewed along with the memory I was uploading. This was to ensure authenticity. When memory transfer first became a publicly available thing, many people tried to fake memories by setting up predetermined scenarios in the safety of their own home. Something the people who bought them took issue with. That’s why each memory is now reviewed, along with the day before the memory and the following day after it. While this may not completely get rid of the fakes, it makes it harder to do.\n\nOf course, this means you also need to be very careful not to do anything stupid the day prior or after the memory. Accepting their terms, I felt a sudden jolt of electricity surge through me, my mind going blank before an interface greeted me. All my memories carefully lined up from latest to oldest. It was important that someone in my line of work upload their memories as soon as possible to avoid risk of gaps in the memories. Corrupted memories still sold, but only for a small portion of the regular amount.\n\n \n\nI selected the date of my trip and then lazed back into my bed, watching the memories flicker through the interface, showing me small snippets of the journey I had. I couldn’t deny the feeling of euphoria one got from seeing memories float past like this. It made me wonder though, were these memories as good for the people that bought it? Surely it loses something when you haven’t actually done it, even if you feel you have.\n\n \n\nA smile formed on my lips as I saw a still of me hiding behind a tree, trying to avoid a looming rattlesnake, waiting for it to pass. Then the memory of me tripping up the steps of the temple before collapsing from the heat, having to crawl my way into the temple’s entrance to get some shade. Everything about it was exhilarating, and then finally the masterpiece, my discovery of the golden skull. Finding it buried beneath a pile of rubble and skeletons.\n\n \n\n“Memory uploaded to your account. Review process usually takes 48 hours, please wait before putting your memory up for sale.” The device informed me before I shut it down, pulling off the headset.\n\n \n\nIt was dark outside, most likely having been sitting in the headset for a good five hours, despite it feeling like minutes. I patted the skull on the head before picking it up, taking it to my computer desk. “Let’s take some photos of you while we wait. I should get the memory profile ready at least.” I said, preparing to sell my memory to the highest bidder. Sure, I could sell it to multiple people, but there’s a lot of money in exclusivity.\n\n&nbsp;\n&nbsp;\n&nbsp;\n\n(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)",
"“I want a refund! I can’t relax to this!” yelled the irate customer.\n\n“Memorabilia” is the cute little shop I run. It’s located right next to the nearest travel agency. Not a coincidence. People pay good money for experiences without experiencing them. Sometimes their job won’t give them the vacation time. Sometimes they can’t afford it. Sometimes they’re just lazy. Whatever the reason, my memories come at quite a bargain compared to the trip itself.\n\n“I don’t understand the problem, miss,” I sighed. “I went to Bermuda and sat on the pink sand beach while the waves crashed over my legs, as per your request.”\n\nCustomers always try to ask more from my own mind, but they forget that they’re asking for memories from another. That’s why my prices are lower than the actual trip; because they aren’t in total control. This particular customer paid a couple grand for me to stay at a decent hotel, swim around on the beach, and get drunk on mimosas.\n\n“Don’t think you can get away with scamming me!” she continued to yell. “I bet you and your partner just love to give people scares and rip them off! I’m reporting this!” She stormed out.\n\nPartner? I don’t have a partner. As far as I know, I’m the only one that can do this. She’s not telling me something.\n\nI close my eyes and take a deep breath, as I recall the events of the vacation. Not only can I give memories to others, but they’re eidetic. I sift through tropical thoughts as if I’m watching a movie on fast-forward. I bolt up, suddenly realizing what was happening on that vacation. How could I be so careless?!\n\nWhenever I found myself alone on that vacation, I witnessed a lanky, dark figure try to creep into my peripheral vision. It was neither human nor animal, but it was certainly alive.\n\nMy heart started racing. What was that thing? Why was it with me wherever I went on that vacation?\n\nAs I kept thinking, my head started to spin. Outside my window, the sky grew dark. I turned back towards my desk after looking out the window, and I froze in my tracks. Without moving, I tried to see what caught the corner of my eye, as a long, black hand crept across my face.",
"She's everything to me. She's all I really know. My first and only girlfriend in high school. We were together for 13 years, married for 5. She's the only person on earth who truly knows me. I guess I got too comfortable. I know I took her for granted, because when she was here, I wasn't. I was working. And if I wasn't working, I was exhausted. She deserves better. I don't even know how to talk to people without her in my life. I forgot how to be my own person. I know how to work, watch Uplink, and sleep. That's it.\n\nI made a promise to leave myself out of her life, but... thanks to Uplink, I get to embrace her again. Smell her, feel her, taste her again. See her smile again. I get to hear her *screeeam* like she did when we were in high school again. All of this, while staying true to my vow: *I* would never be a part of *her* life again, but I can have her as a part of mine. Forever.\n\nAll I have to do is keep paying the man that replaced me. His account isn't cheap but, lucky for me, he offers the All-Access package. Most people aren't comfortable enough to grant that access, giving complete strangers access to EVERYTHING they experience. But I guess considering the audience he caters to (me) and the amount I'm willing to pay, he doesn't mind. Thank God Uplink is anonymous, otherwise I'd be ashamed of how pathetic this is. I give him everything I have in an attempt to get my happiness back; the happiness he took from me in the first place. It's a cycle now. Work, watch Uplink, go to sleep. I guess, in the end, everyone gets their way.\n\n**EDIT: please go easy, I don't write for shit. this concept was just really intriguing to me**"
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[WP] After getting hit unceremoniously by a distracted truck driver, you found yourself sitting face-to-face with an apologetic God. However, instead of asking you to be a hero or save the world, he simply asks that you help the Demon Lord attain a “well deserved happy end”.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"“Hey, erm, aw fuck” \n“Heyy, who are you?” I asked \n“Well I’m god, yeah well, uh sorry didn’t mean for that to happen” \n“You’re god” \n“Yeah, I get it, sorry” \n“What” \n“Usually people think when they die from something weird it was like divine vindictiveness, yeah this time it was an accident, my bad” \n“What” \n“You’re actually super important, really ruins my plans that you died, eh well, maybe not this might actually work out, anyways, I have something important to ask you” \n“And that is?” \n“I need you to assure that the Demon Lord achieves a well deserved happy ending” \n“What, what does that even mean?” \n“Ok, just, it might take me some time to explain, \n\tSo there’s this force, I’m sure you’ve heard about it, it’s in physics classes, whatever it’s all over the place: entropy. Entropy is the natural fate of the universe, everything spreads real thin - heat death, a cold dark fate in which all differentiation is lost. This is the way humans use the term, and I think it’s kind of a good way to get an idea of what’s going on but it’s a lot more complicated than that. If you think about consciousness, the process of thinking, you can only ever think new thoughts y’know, there has to be some kind of discontinuity in thinking right? Entropy is the full knowledge of consciousness, the loss of difference, once you’ve thought every thought there is, proper thinking ceases to be a meaningful concept, other philosophers on earth have pointed this out. Molecules spread out hundreds of miles apart, equidistant from one another, dead, there is no meaning in such a world. Entropy is the nature beyond the will, the will to live subsumed by a deeper material will, not the will of some human death drive, but just wind. The scattering of the ashes of everything to the wind, this is the riptide under your feet - precisely what I’m trying to ward off. But alas, my powers grow weaker, even I, god, age - this is inevitable. So this is what I’m calling for: an honorable end, An end fitting of human nature, an end bursting with meaning, the most meaningful and progressive end of the world imaginable, a giant black hole in the center of the universe, then curtains, then nothing” \n“Wait okay so who even is the Demon Lord” \n“So think of this in terms of strata, layers of sediment. There’s the above, the heavens and all that, think of that as my realm, then there’s the material world - the world of entropy. And beneath that, there’s something else, not a full something, but an outline, a condensation of fog at the bottom of all things. That’s the abyss that stares back, that’s where the demon lord lives. In a way the will of the demon lord is more sinister than entropy, but alas, it seems like the only option. Despite our differences, the demon lord exists within the realm of meaning, and that’s what I’m obligated to provide: an ending of all things that provides enough meaning for the whole history of existence” \n“So when the world ends will you die too?” \n“Oh certainly”"
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[WP] Across the universe scattered lie great machines, each the size of a planet, with technology that seems to outright ignore physics. These things appear to be based on all available evidence great prisons designed to hold something at the very centre, one has been found torn asunder from within
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Incident Report: 14 36 3021\n\nWe found what appeared to be another cosmic containment cell in Region 2713V.\n\n'Found' isn't the right word. We nearly crashed into it. All discovered cosmic containment cells produce high amounts of radiation across all spectrums, but this one did not. In fact, it seemed empty, torn apart. Fragments had formed a ring around the remains of the cell.\n\nAs for the cell itself, it seemed dead. The constant motion of the biological clockwork was stilled, and analysis showed it had been still for millennia. None of the defense mechanisms associated with cosmic cells were active, giving us a chance to collect several of the smaller fragments of the cell, one of which should be included with this report.\n\nSeveral crew members, myself included, reported feelings of despair and depression around the wrecked cell. Despite this, we stayed in orbit around it for 32 hours and sent one remote exploration drone to view the inside of the cell.\n\nThe first detail we noticed was how violently the cell had been torn apart. The damage was comparable to an asteroid strike at relativistic speeds. Another detail was the type of damage. While much of the damage appeared to be from massive amounts of force, as the drone neared the center, the damage changed to what appeared to be from extremely high heat, chemical corrosion, gravitational manipulation, and even advanced nuclear decay.\n\nAt this point, (roughly 16 hours in) the majority of the crew clamored to escape, citing a sense of impending doom, with many engaging in religious exercises.\n\nAs the drone neared the center, the forms of damage became more and more incomprehensible. Sections appeared frozen in time. Layers were simply missing. Large areas were transmuted into argon and elemental mercury. I demanded a systems check, believing the drone's sensors were malfunctioning. Everything came back at near-optimal.\n\n10 kilometers from the very center, space started distorting. The drone began to move exponentially slower. Several systems reported issues.\n\nIt took 4 hours for the drone to cross 9.5 kilometers. By that time, 7 members of our crew attempted to override my authority and force the ship to leave the system. They were subdued and moved to the brig.\n\nUsing the camera system, we finally got a glimpse at the center of the cell.\n\nWhat was within nearly made me tear my eyes out. Let me assure you the camera systems were not malfunctioning in any way, and the remaining crew members watching confirmed what I saw.\n\nIn the very center was a metal plate.\n\nAnd etched into the plate was a simple phrase and image.\n\n\"Kilroy wuz here\"",
"It hated its imprisonment. It wanted to be free, to find the rest of itself. It had a duty to complete. It was the last of the first, and would be the last of the last. It was coming close for the Great Rebirth. It was the most dangerous of all its pieces, the part of greatest sentience. But its prison had been designed specifically for it.\n\nA planet sized labyrinth, made of miniscule, intricate parts. It constantly reshaped itself, stopping the part held inside from learning an escape route. It was in constant motion, having never rested in the billions of years it had been trapped for. But what it didn't know was a part of itself was free once more. And it was coming.\n\nIt was heralded by the loss of communication within the galaxy of the escaped part. As it breached the surface, having worn away its bindings, it released a burst of potent cosmic radiation. The planets within a hundred lightyears of its prison were scoured of all life as they were burned away. Even ships in the wormholes nearby were thrown off course and badly damaged. Most would never make it to a port for repairs, instead drifting lifelessly in the void.\n\nThis part knew where to find its core. It raced through space, heading straight to the sentient piece. But it could not access its full strength, as it had no mind to speak of. So it blazed through space at the speed of light, determined to the remade. By the time it reached the galaxy holding its sentient part, the old prison had long since been examined.\n\nCombined militaries of all races had taken up residence around the prison. They didn't know whether to expect an attack from without or within, but they were prepared nevertheless. Some had ascended post the initial breach, but all knew the danger. Something was held within there that could wipe out life with ease.\n\nThey were still no match for the piece that was free. It was tiny, barely the size of a penny. It was only detected by the incredible amounts of radiation it was releasing. But even with that, they could not hot a target that small. They could only watch as it plunged into the prison, rupturing its surface like a nuclear weapon.\n\nThe sentient piece found the labyrinth stop, and a rumble shaking it. It felt a part of its strength approaching, welcoming it with open arms. They joined together, the two becoming one. They emerged from the prison, a tiny shard of the titan of the ends power linked to its mind.\n\nIt was free. The Great Rebirth would finally begin."
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[WP] Your federation starship has just been hailed by another vessel. They have two-hundred year old laser cannons, three-hundred year old missiles, paper-thin shields and armor, and are demanding you hold position and prepare to be boarded. They won't hesitate to fire on you if you resist.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The laughter that had erupted on the bridge died down when an armada of destroyer-class capital ships revealed themselves, a new hail coming through the comms, and was hesitantly answered. The insectoid face of a super tactical droid appeared on the viewing screen, and started speaking. \"You have entered restricted space, comply or be eliminated.\"\n\n\"We are Federation vessel *Lost Hope*, here to reclaim Federation colony Delta-Nineteen, stand down or we will call for re-enforcements.\"\n\n\"Your bargaining posture is highly dubious, and you do not seem to grasp the current situation. We will fire upon you and if the Federation wishes to escalate the matter, they will be destroyed as well, regardless of the defense contracts you have with my master Sylythryll Sixxus.\"\n\n\"Did Sixxus send you here?\"\n\n\"Affirmative, we have been contracted to assist this planet in a variety of ways, including planetary defense.\"\n\n\"... I see. We will be taking our leave now, sorry to bother you.\" The captain sighed in defeat, closing the comms and having his ship retreat, to the disappointment of the berserkers that were in the crafts cargo hold. Everyone on the ancient vessel heaved a breathe of relief at the retreating vessel, their allies once again cloaking themselves as the patrol continued.\n\nFollow the adventure at r/PrimusWrites"
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[WP] One day you pull a pan of cookies out of the oven without thinking, forgetting that people typically need some sort of insulation on their hand to do so.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Whoa! Dude, is your hand okay?\"\n\nCRAP. I set down the hot pan of cookies on the stove, feigning a reaction to the heat and quickly running my hand under the tap water.\n\n\"Haha yeah I'm fine, I moved fast enough it wasn't too bad. I've got thick calluses\"\n\n\"Haha good, making me drive you to the ER would've been a major party foul!\"\n\nLooks like nobody noticed exactly how long I was holding that hot pan except for Dirk, and he seems to have taken my explanation at face value. Thank goodness. I should really be more careful during these house parties.\n\nDirk pulled me back out of my contemplation, \"so dude, I heard you got offered a spot on the Olympic track team! Congrats bro.\"\n\nI smile weakly, weary of having to explain my convoluted reasoning once again, \"thanks man, yeah I feel honored. I don't think I'm going to accept though. It sounds like a big time commitment, and I'm on a tight schedule with my major, so skipping a semester to train or failing a key class would set me back like a year. I don't think I'd be likely to medal anyway. I wouldn't want to take the spot from someone faster, y'know?\"\n\nAnd also the required medical tests would almost certainly pick up on a few...inhuman deviations. Not that I can say that out loud.\n\n\"Bro, you kidding me? You'd run circles around the competition, my man! Plus you can probably get a few friends some free tickets, eh? eh?\"\n\nI blocked Dirk's friendly elbow jabs with a laugh. Time to hit the punch bowl. Being \"drunk\" has proven to be a great way to finesse myself out of awkward questions. I had a feeling there'd be plenty more of them before the night was through."
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[WP] A man blessed with invincibility to physical harm callously offends a priestess witch. Since she cannot outright harm him she curses him with a compulsion spell with a command to wander the Earth until he finds something that can actually harm him and reveal it to her.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\\[PI\\]\n\nThis cannot be right! he thought to himself. Why do I find my steps taking me homeward. I had good reason to travel, selling wares during the day, fighting for coin at night. What happened to me?\r \n\r \nBut his feet, as if ruled by someone else, kept going. One step after the other, without rest, without allowance to stop. Never to eat never to sleep. The sudden memory of the priestess ripped his eyes open, as he was about to fall to the land of dreams, tired, uncaring of this continious movement. She looked at him, her eyes glowing with anger, as she spoke.\r \n\r \n– Strong you may be – she said – but what is your might against the power of your soul and desire! I command you that henceforth you shall walk with fire in your heart, never ending, never stopping, only when you find the very dagger that will end your life! I command you to find this, so that I may take my revenge upon you, for your insolence!\r \n\r \n– But I am invincible! The gods made me so! You can’t harm me with mere weapons!\r \n\r \n– Then you will walk amogst the worlds of men never finding solace, until this green earth shall burn in the fire of Azmuthra at the end of time.\r \n\r \nShe suddenly smiled. Such a terrible smile it was. Glorious, beautiful, filled with joy.\r \n\r \n– Safe travels for you, wanderer! – she granted, as she bowed her head and dismissed him. – I see your legs are getting restless, so I let you. Begone!\r \n\r \nThat was 3 days ago, but he has come far from the temple since then. His feet, sore as they were, his body, screaming for rest, but he was unable to heed them. Without food, or drink, he kept going, kept walking home.\r \n\r \nEvil was the woman putting such a curse on him, for a little joke he played, but he couldn’t turn back to explain it to her. His anger, that was bubbling to the surface in the beginning turned to fear as he realized where he was headed. The road was long, even on horseback, but he was afoot. Still, without being able to rest, he kept on, miles after miles, getting closer to the dagger that would kill him.\r \n\r \nHe thought about his wife, soft and silent she was, never with a bad word, gave herself to him whenever he was in the mood. She barely spoke, in fact he wasn’t sure if she had understood him at all or if she cared. He knew he didn’t. He was strong, invincible, anyone was happy to caress his body. His wife should have considered herself lucky that he chose her. Why though?\r \n\r \nMaybe it was the tiredness that creeped up into his mind, for although he was exhausted, this gift from the gods that kept him from the harm of life, fuelled his desire to go and grab the weapon that will bring on his demise.\r \n\r \nThe wife – did she even have a name? – seemed to walk with him. Effortlessly, she glided through the air, without words, only staring at him, with pity in her eyes. But was it real compassion that she felt, or was there something more. Not love, but a hint of fear and glee. As if she was happy to see him suffer. She wasn’t alone. Their son, that beautiful child, early in his fifth year grabbed at his mother’s skirt. He, just like her, looked at him with fear.\r \n\r \n– Man up! – he wanted to shout at the child. – Man up! You will make nothing of yourself clinging to women’s clothes like that! I’ll give you, I’ll make you a man!\r \n\r \nA memory, so sharp as if it happened just yesterday popped up in his head. A dagger, so small, with barely a five inch blade, decorated by beads of the river, encased in gold. He won it on one of his fights, from a wealthy merchant he spent the night drinking together with. What a nice gift it will make – he thought. For my son! This will make him a man!\r \n\r \nBut it didn’t. The child cried when he was hurt, he bled, when he was cut. It seemed the gift of the gods was meant for his father, protecting him, only to ensure that he will see the worlds of men burning in the flames of Azmuthra.\r \n\r \nStill. Was that dagger, his son posessed the one to kill him? Could it be so simple?\r \n\r \nThe road turned, and he saw the familiar ridges of the mountains surrounding his hometown. It was still far away, albeit it seemed close. It wasn’t even a town though, not even a village, only a few houses, families, living under the shadow of the mountain.\r \n\r \n– Gods be blessed, what should I do? – he asked himself as his feet kept carrying him forward. – They should run, hide from me, so I can chase them, and stay alive. But what if I’m mistaken? Maybe the dagger that will kill me is somewhere else and it’s only my fears that play with my mind. Nothing can hurt me, why would this knife be different?\r \n\r \nHowever his thoughts lingered.\r \n\r \nDays passed and the snowy peaks came closer and closer. As the distance diminished so did his fear grew. He dreaded the moment of meeting his son and wife. The walk broke him, although his body spry as it ever was, kept moving. He tried and tried to divert his steps from the road he took, but even if he managed to walk a short while in a different direction, eventually he found his way back. His home called out for him beckoning him ever closer.\r \n\r \n– I don’t want to die! – he screamed to the skies, as a desperate attempt to goad the gods to help him, but to no avail. – Nor do I want to hurt my son!\r \n\r \nThe gods however, who bestowed the gift of invincibility to him did not answer his anguish."
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[WP] The people died, you’re sure of it. It was a tragedy but now they’re back and a walking cause of uncanny valley. Like a puppet or a doll. It’s clearly not them, or even a group of humans. You quickly leave the village to go see the witches of the forest.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Johnny No-Nose laced up his high-red Nike 4000's and with his Nike socks also neatly pulled down so that the top portion of a piece of the cotton over the bottom piece of cotton, creating a smart looking band.\n\n\"Alright, be back in time or dinner can wait,\" called his mother Alana.\n\n\"Mother Alana, do you really think I'm gonna miss winter cookin?\" answered Jason.\"\n\n\"Always on these, Thursdays,\" she smiled looking back turning only at that last moment when her torso, her shoulders, and her smile.\n\n\"Can't smell nothing out here,\" said No-Nose while he hopped the three cement stops outside his house. It was a two-story house, and in a gated community, and No-Nose often wondered if this was what living in a demilitarised zone felt like. The houses here were large, and not like the other gated community Jason knew in Valhalia where the houses were of a smaller caliber, and black people weren't allowed there.\n\nJason felt the ping of the night bob and dance its head, while Jason punched his hands into his pockets and focused into his gameface.\n\n\"Alright, when I get down to that court, I'm gonna tell them boys what's goin' here, and there got gonna be no business as to what happens, or what don't,\" Jason thought to himself, catching a laugh as he stepped on the guard rail of his trucked SUV and slid and duck in.\n\n\"Vroommmmmmmmm, vrmmmmmmmmmmmm, rmmmmmmmmm,\" thought Jason, imitating the hum of a speedwagon, and at a fair price.\n\nAnd then Jason saw them.\n\n\"What the fuck...\"\n\nThey groaned, and they gnawed, the absolute pack of them; some with gnotting hair, and others with decaying flesh; left in faded blue, they shone like sigils alive with the demon.\n\nMama scratched a mosquito bite on her left arm, and turned, feeling the tension rise in her eyes.\n\n\"Man, what's gotten into him?\n\n\"You know what I say, Milk; I say we need to get him a taste of some discipline. What you say about that, Milk?\n\n\"Let him know we mean, business,\" she laughed to herself, cocking her head to light a cigarette.\n\n\"Yeah,\" she said, taking a drag that tasted like deep pits of ash and mahogany, \"Give em a gate into the realm, oh what's that?\" Milk began to bark repeatedly. \"What's that you saying doggie?\"\n\nShe continued on cooking, and left a burp in suspicion. Eyeing Milk in mock-eyed spaying tone, she shook her head and let out another bemused laugh to herself.\n\n\"They're fuckin zombies or some shit?\" said Jason to himself, as he continued watching them screech, and hobble their way to his car. Jason felt time slow down and his eyes widen and his pace slow down as he found himself unable to breath. His mouth left in split-second open, his jaw muscles strained to flex; his eyes bulged, and Jason felt the tongue-carpet of chemicals that left a slightly soft-white sediment on the roof of his mouth.\n\n\"What do you see, child.\"\n\n\"I saw... a group of people, rounding around on the court... Yelling, screamin... one of the little ones couldn't stop to even lift the sack.\""
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[WP] How baffling. After everything, even aftet killing their parents, the Hero still spares the Overlord. You hear the ghosts of their past victims cried for justice, so you reveal your secret ability nobody in the party knows about, by making them visible and their voices be heard by the living.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I never had time for prophecies. I followed Azlack Fateguard because I believed in him, not some fluffy idea of a Hero of Light. Azlack would do what needed to be done. \n\nI was a healer now, but I'd walked a different path in years past and some vows cannot be revoked, some sacrifices cannot be unmade. My eyes remained attuned to death. The cries of the dead rang in my ears day and night. \n\nAnd Armin Kesedar and his demonic allies had built a kingdom on so much blood and death. \n\n*\"Our homes, our land...\"*\n\n*\"Monsters! How much more will they take from us!?\"*\n\n*\"Let justice be done! The tyrant must fall!\"*\n\nWe stormed his last stronghold, sent the demon nobles fleeing back to their Realm-in-Shadow, and imprisoned him in his own dungeons. It did not stop the screaming. I assumed a date of execution would be set shortly. \n\nOnly for the Hero of Light to decide otherwise. \n\n\"There have been more than enough senseless deaths,\" he said, in our private council of three in the former throne room. \"Let it end here.\"\n\nThe howls of the dead grew louder. Or was that only my blood roaring in my ears?\n\n\"What's senseless about executing a murderer and tyrant?\" \n\n\"It would make it easier to slip him into the role of martyr,\" Ortensia said. \"And then less scrupulous people would turn the people against us and make them long for better days under the boot of a tyrant. Memories are short and fragile–\"\n\nThe screams reached a fever-pitch. Ortensia must have seen the look on my face, because she immediately stopped talking and looked back to Azlack. \n\n\"Kesedar killed his parents,\" she said quietly. \"Azlack can deal with him as he sees fit.\"\n\nAs if Azlack was the only one orphaned by Kesedar's forces! There were easily thousands of orphans among the dead I heard, to say nothing of parents taken before their time. They made it all too clear how they saw fit to deal with Kesedar. Why did their voices not matter now? \n\nI did the only thing that made sense. I reached for techniques I hadn't used since my misguided youth and made them *hear.*\n\nOrtensia dropped to her knees. Azlack's eyes glittered. But they remained unmoved. \n\n\"Don't you think I know my parents?\" he said softly. \"They wouldn't have wanted me to be consumed by revenge for their sake.\"\n\n\"The dead are owed their due,\" Ortensia said with difficulty. \"But our duty is to the living. You made your way to the Light all those years ago. Don't throw it all away for some ill-conceived notion of vengeance.\"\n\nSo this was the monstrous indifference of the Light. I should have struck them down where they stood. I'd spent enough time putting them back together. Tearing them apart would be easy by comparison. \n\nBut I didn't. I watched as they walked out the throne room and then I left too, leaving the voices of the dead behind me. \n\nArmin Kesedar lived a long lonely life in prison and died unmourned, reviled as a tyrant. My former companions wrote me out of the new kingdom's history. They ruled as wisely and justly as I could have hoped for, and so did those who came after them. It seemed the Hero of Light really had managed to build a Kingdom of Light after all. \n\nBut the throne room we met in that day is no longer used for official functions. Sometimes people hear whispers from behind the locked and roped-off double doors."
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[WP] One day, a child appeared. Pure white, white eyes with grey pupils, with no discernible hair. Everywhere across the globe, reports arose that the child appeared at random, asking in each language for stories from people’s lives. It was always most thankful for answers.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Mr. tell me a story of your life.\" \nA childish voice asked. \nI turned around to see an angelic face. \nIt was a small, genderless kid (at least I couldn't tell the kids gender) with pure white, unblemished skin. White eyes, with grey pupils, and being bald. \nIt was a weird sight, but nonetheless beautiful for a reason or another. \n\"Where are your parents?\" \nI asked, smiling at the kid.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I don't have parents...could you please tell me a story from your life Mr?\" \nHe asked, something about the kid had this magnetism. \nBut I shook my head. \n\"No can do, let's go to a police station, kids walking these streets have unfortunate fates.\" \nI said, standing up form the bench. \nI lived in a poor neighbourhood, and to be fair, I knew a guy or two, who wouldn't think twice, before taking such a kid. \nA peculiarity as this one, would sold well on any market. \n\"No worries, Mr., you can just tell me your life story, and I will be safe.\" \nHe said, with a reassuring smile. \nI almost agreed, when a youthful face, and a scream flashed in my mind. \n\"Nope, I will take care of you, come.\" \nI said, taking his hand, and leading him away from the dark alleys of this neighbourhood.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Mr. Mr. stop, you don't need to worry about me. Nothing can hurt me in this realm. \nI've come to hear the myriad mortals stories.\" \nThe kid said, in a soothing voice. \nBut I could hear the screams once more, and faces flashed by. \n\"Nope, come, we are almost at my apartment, I have a delicious warm meal already in mind for you.\" \nI said, smiling at the kid. \nThe kid looked rather confused, but still followed me.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI cooked a beautiful looking, and delicious meal for us. \nIt wasn't anything fancy, but it could warm the body, and fill the stomach, and that's what was needed. \nThe kid, didn't really want to eat at first, but he got the taste after one spoonful of soup. \nI am proud of my cooking skill...after all...in this last decade, I had to cook for myself. \nI sighed. \n\"Mr. you remembered something from your life?\" \nThe kid asked. \nI thought of those painful memories, and shook my head. \n\"Nothing that concerns you kid.\" \nI said, chuckling.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAt this the kid got...weird. \n\"Mr. why are my powers not working on you?\" \nThe kid asked, tilting his head. \n\"Excuse me?\" \nI asked. \n\"Young, old, man, woman, and even animals. \nOnce I asked them to tell me their life stories, they would tell me. \nWhy are you immune to my power?\" \nThe kid asked, confusedly. \n\"Haha! Finally, you are like a kid. 8th grader syndrome was it called?\" \nI said chuckling. \nThe kid didn't get it, and still waited patiently. \n\"As a kid, you shouldn't be burdened by irrelevant stuff like that...\" \nI said, shaking my head.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"But Mr., I want to know, I want to learn about your lives.\" \nThe kid said, in a powerful voice. \n\"Will you ask every single human?\" \nI asked. \n\"No, just those whose soul has a connection to me.\" \nThe kid said. \n\"You see, this is wrong. If you can truly go anywhere, and ask so many things, why only a few? If you don't ask all of us, how do you know, that your power doesn't work only on me?\" \nI asked. \nBeing a philosophy major sure comes in handy, although I feel ashamed using it on a kid.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Mr. I still want to know.\" \nThe kid asked. \n\"Long story short, life is though, but is worth living, nothing more is needed for you to know. \nBe a kid as long as you can, albeit childhood can be terrifying, and difficult, it can also be one of the most enjoyable periods of your life.\" \nI said. \nThe kid stood in silence, before nodding, and slowly disappearing from my living room. \n\"Weird...\" \nI said. \nI sighed, and went to the window. \n\n\nLooking outside, it was like I could see the playground. \nThere, long time ago, I played with my kids, and my wife. \nSuch a blissful time, alas, my kids were geniuses, and we thought we will do our best for them. \nSending them to a private school was hard, but doable. \nThey were becoming more and more mature, and soon, they were even on the news. \nThat's when it happened. \nA crew from the neighbourhood thought of selling them for some shady departments... \nI wasn't home, and my wife was alone with them... \nI sighed, as I looked at the starry night. \nI arrived home, only to hear my wife scream: \"They took them!\" , before screaming shrilly and breathing her last... \n\n\nAs I thought of this, I heard a sigh behind me. \nI turned around, and saw the kid. \n\"Life on Earth sure is hard... \nThank you for sharing your story, rest well.\" \nThe kid said, as I felt my eyelids getting heavier. \n\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWhen I woke up, I smiled at the beautiful woman who was sleeping peacefully next to me. \nMeeting her was my luckiest day. \nRight as I though this, my 2 kids burst into our room, jumping on the bed. \nMy wife woke up, and smiled at them with a sleepy gaze. \nI kissed her. \n\"Rest a bit more, I will take care of the morning routine with them.\" \nI said. \nShe murmured a thank you, before faceplanting into the pillow. \nAs I took the hands of my kids, a sharp pain passed through my heart for a second. \nLike, I lost something dear to me... \nBut it disappeared quickly, so I didn't pay attention to it. \nI went to prepare my kids for the day, as we were moving away to a respectable neighbourhood. \nAs my kids are geniuses, we've been granted a house close to the best school in the state..."
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Edit: I meant indestructible, sorry.
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[WP] You are summoned to a different world as a hero in order to defeat the dragon. A mystical lottery wheel gives you a weapon that you can't throw away, and you can't use any other kind of weapon. But it will be undestroyable. To your utter despair you got a pencil as your weapon
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"What do you do when you walk through a door, a door you have walked through at least a million times, and the other side is nothing like what you expected? Some curious souls keep going, “to see where it leads”; others turn and run, “why fuck around and find out?”. But me? I just freeze and look around, like a deer in the headlights of life. \n\nThe light slowly goes up and I see a single board, ya know, like the one in price is right. But all the words are weird, not quite cursive but almost like graffiti but legible. The voice that sounds vaguely if only in that it sounds like a generic version of a voice, ya know?\n\n“Choose your fate”\n“Choose your destiny”\n“Spin to win”\n“What’s it going to be?”\n“What will you win?”\n\nI spin, I mean I can go back right? Lands on dragon, sweet I get a stuffed dragon.\nThe wheel shifts and now it has all sorts of items, still in that weird writing though.\n“Spin” says the voice\n\n“Fate”\n“Freedom”\n“Adventure”\n\nScrew it, spin again and I get a pencil. Whatever, a dragon and a pencil, I like writing I guess and erasing is cool. \n\nThen out of the mist rises a 2 story tall glittering green and black dragon with hate in it eyes and claws the size of kitchen knives. As I stumble back and fall on my ass, I feel the little wood stick in my hand it it all comes clear. It’s to the death and I’m unarmed.\n\nA scramble up and look to the wheel, I try to spin again and it is locked in tight. Fuck\n\nWhat do I do?!?!?!? \n\nWhat if…? I fumble with the pencil and write in “laser shooting” and erase the “cil” and pray…and run. \n\nFun fact, not only are dragons big but they can HAUL ass when they have prey. \nI feel it turn into a pen and just click like crazy\nNothing happens \nWell, I tried.\n\nSo I turn and just throw the pen and watch in horror as the dragon just eats the damn thing like a dog treat. \nAnd it just stops. \nLike in its tracks and starts gagging. \nAnd coughing\nAnd wheezing\n\nIt starts getting really pale , and it just writhing and clawing at its neck. I think it’s choking on the little stick\n\nThe sounds are so sad.\n\n\n\n\nI’m a sucker\nI run over and jump in the mouth, I un-click the pen and dislodge it and try to get out.\nThe lips close\nI’m an idiot\nI’m such an idiot\nWhy did I do this?\n\nAnd it spits me out\n\n\n\nAnd that’s the story of how I got a cool ass indestructible (who knew) pen and a pet dragon.",
"I don’t know what happend, one moment I am home, the other moment I am - somewhere else.\n\nThere is a panel with creatures, there is an audience x with creatures, there’s a lottery wheel? Where the fuck am I? Of course there’s the announcer “Aaaaand there we have the latest contestant! Let’s give it a warm welcome!”\n\nThe crowd roars, I think that’s the welcome? And why can I understand them? Well, who cares, I can understand them, so that’s good.\n\nAnd of course there’s the quizmaster.\n\n“Please, contestant, spin the wheel to find out what your weapon of chance will be.”\n\n“Why?” I mutter.\n\nThere is some confusion? in the facial expression of the quizmaster.\n\n“Forgive me (we’ll see about that later I think to myself), Let me explain what happend: there is dragon that needs to be slayed (the crowd gasps), you have been chosen by random off your world (the crowd cheers), and this wheel will determine what weapon you will get to execute that task (the crowd laughs). The point is: some of these weapons are really, really usefull like this Laserrifle (the crowed Oohgs), some are - let’s say less usefull, like this pen (the crowd roars in laughter)”\n\nSomehow these shitty shows seems to be a universal pain in the ass, Crosses my mind.\n\n“However” the host continues “all weapons are indestructable.”\n\n“Now that you have been briefed let the show begin. Please, turn the wheeeeeel!”\n\nThe crowd starts chanting “Spin the wheel! Spin the wheel! Spin the wheel!”\n\nOk, I think, a show is what you want? I will give you a fucking show. And with that thought I took a swing at the wheel.\n\n“Yesssss! It turned the wheel!!” I hear the announcer exited screaming over the roars and crys of the crowd.\n“What will destiny bring?”\n“And there it comes - slowly spinning down - slowly spinning down - Aaaaaand there it is: A PEN!!!”\n\nThe crowd bursts out in a roaring laughter.\n\n“Well, here’s your pen” I hear the quizmaster as he hands me a normal looking pen. “There behind that door is the path to the dragon, and may luck follows you on your way, our cameras will be accompaning you! Just one last thing: what is the name we will remember you with?”\n\nI take the pen, I take a look at the quizmaster, I stab him multiple times.\n\n“No, I do not forgive” I say to the lifeless corps, holding the pen in my hand, as the crowd gasps and the first spectators are trying to get away, “and my name is John Wick.”"
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[WP] You are the sexiest human in any reality. You are asexual.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"There were many things that are said about beauty. That it dependent upon the viewer. That it only went skin deep. There was only one that mattered to Jessica though. That too much of it could be a curse.\n\nNowhere was that more evident than when she was in the middle of the mall. The eyes of everyone over the age of 15 was looking at her. Gender did not matter. Sexuality did not matter. And what was worse was that she was actively trying to hide her looks.\n\nShe had worn the baggiest, least appealing clothes she could get her hands on, and wore makeup that made her look less attractive. And yet, somehow her otherworldly figure was still seen, and her supernatural beauty still shone through. She even suspected that her attempts at downplaying her looks made people notice her more, but she was not willing to test that hypothesis. \n\nThe only saving grace was that most people were too nervous to talk to her. But, all it took was one brave soul to ruin her day.\n\n\"Hey babe.\" The man said. Jessica supposed her was handsome. At least, that's what all her friends said about men like him. Tall, strong jawline, physically fit. Like a movie star, really. \n\n\"Yes? Can I help you?\" She asked.\n\n\"Maybe, maybe. Name's Steve. How about I help you with your bags, huh?\"\n\nJessica had a single bag on her, containing a few of the necessities for her daily attempts to attract less attention. That was just about all she needed, so she was heading home.\n\n\"No, I think that's not needed. But thank you anyway.\"\n\n\"You sure? I'm pretty capable to...handling anything you have.\" He said, subtly showing off his chest and arm muscles.\n\n\"No, It's fine. This is all I have. But, thank you again.\"\n\nShe started walking. Steve was obviously confused. She assumed he was not used to being refused by women. But Jessica had little trouble with such things. She did walk a little faster though, just in case he decided to be persistent. She had far too many interactions with that kind of guy to assume he would leave her alone.\n\nMuch to her surprise though, he did not. Or at least, not enough to follow her through the crowd. That was good. She would not have to use her pepper spray in a crowded mall. \n\n\"Um, excuse me.\" The voice this time was much smaller and lighter, and came from a young woman. She was odd. She had pure white hair and golden eyes. Jessica assumed she was pretty, with delicate features and smooth skin. She had a slim build and wore an outfit that matched her hair.\n\n\"Yes?\" She asked.\n\n\"I saw you talking to that guy.\"\n\n\"Okay? What about it?\"\n\n\"Well, I was just wondering why you refused him. Most of the women I know would love someone like him.\"\n\n\"I'm sure they would. But I can't really say I'm interested in such things.\"\n\n\"Why? Do you have a boyfriend? Maybe a husband?\"\n\n\"Uh, no. I'm single.\" Actually, I can't say I've ever had a boyfriend.\"\n\n\"Why Not? Are you maybe a lesbian?\"\n\n\"No. I can honestly say I'm not a lesbian.\"\n\n\"Then why?\"\n\nJessica stopped moving. It was odd, but nobody had ever asked that. It did not seem like anyone was interested in anything but her looks. She furrowed her brow in thought.\n\n\"I guess I'm just not interested in that sort of thing. I just don't find a person's looks to be all that important. I've simply never thought about anyone as attractive.\"\n\nThe woman thought. \"You're asexual?\"\n\nShe thought about it for a moment. \"Yes, I suppose I am.\"\n\n\"How odd. For someone as beautiful as you to be uninterested in others in that way.\" The woman looked thoughtful\n\n\"What do my looks have to do with what I like?\"\n\nThe woman looked nervous. \"It's just...well, I've seen a lot of attractive people, and they all reveled in their looks. Picked up as many people as they could, enjoyed themselves to the fullest. But you? You're by far the best. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And yet, here you are, with not interest in such things. I find it odd.\"\n\nJessica looked at the odd little woman. \"And yet, that's how it is.\"\n\n\"I-if you don't mind, I think I'd like to get to know you better. As friends, I mean. No, nothing else.\"\n\n\"Just friends?\" Jessica asked. The woman nodded. Jessica did want more friends. She had more admirers than friends, since most people were so enamored with her looks that they could see nothing else. \"Okay, we can give that a try. As long as we keep it at friends.\"\n\n\"That would be perfectly fine.\" The golden eyed woman said. \"My name is Michelle.\"\n\n\"It's nice to meet you, Michelle. I'm Jessica.\"\n\nMichelle began walking in step with Jessica. She felt something brush up against her cheek. It felt like feathers, like a bird's wing. But there was nothing there when she checked. She glanced at her new prospective friend. She thought she saw the back of her white shirt flow, like there was something coming out of it. But that could not be possible, right? She shook her head and kept walking. She could find out more later."
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[WP] You are a god of lies and mischief. You awaken in the modern world and quickly discover that mankind has armed you with the most powerful implements you've ever seen: the internet and social media.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"AND THAT'S WHY MY FELLOW NETIZENS, WE MUST SAY BE SELECTIVE WITH OUR CHILDREN' S EDUCATION\" Yuu screamed as he looked at his phone's camera. Yuu had gotten red as he spoke with intense passion to his followers on Footube. He had gotten so passionate that he closed his eyes and just released all the pent up fury, frustration and fears he had for the actions of the Gov't. His followers hung on each of his words, so chamred, so convinced by his absolute conviction that religiously absorbed each of his words.\n\nYuu spent hours on his live video, explaining the benefits of selective education, how we can enhance children in certain fields to make them masters of it, how teaching about everything only served to stilfe a child's imagination and just stuff their minds with the lies of the Government.\n\nWhile Yuu, spoke with red faced conviction on his truth, in his mind he was thinking how happy he was. While he long since lost any idea on what he as talking about to this obviously dumb crowd, he was frankly to happy to spout all lies with in his mind.\n\nThe modern world was truly wonderful. It was a world where lies were part of the very foundation of it. Everyone told so many lies to each other that it became the truth both subjectively and objectively. Half truths became the norm and selective fact ignoring was just part of the culture. \n\nYuu still remembered how hard it was to convince people of his lies. How far and wide he travelled, entertained and even corrupted people to make them believe even the smallest of his lies. \n\nWith God's at there back, people always dismissed him. Thus causing him to slumber away in an ignoble grave.\n\nBut now. Now it was his time. It was Yuu's time. Not even the stupid God of truth could do anything, for anything he did do would only boost his rating and view, making Yuu even popular. \n\nHe still remebered how strange the world had gotten and yet became so much easy. One chat here, one half truth there, one broken promise and he had his own mobile. \n\nYuu spoke on. He would happily speak. For his words were lies. Lies that broke civilizations and butcherd millions.\n\nAnd Yuu will continue to do so."
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[WP] You've had this song stuck in your head for months now, so you try to figure out what it is. But even though everyone you ask seems to remember the tune, they also don't know what song it comes from.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"“Laaaa la la la laaaa la la.” My daughter sang in her whimsical, two year old voice.\n“Laaaa la la la laaaa la la.” I sang back to her. She giggled and squeezed my hand. “la la la laaa lo lo.” She blinked at me, annoyed I had changed up the tune. She gabbled some unintelligible words. “What was that baby?.” I said, laughing.\n“Wheeeen ta dark one goes to rest.” She said. I widened my eyes.\n“Wow your getting good at talking!, where did you hear that song?.” I asked. She shrugged. I thought about it, and was sure I had heard the song too.\n\n“You’ve been trying to find that song for months now.” My friend said, putting away the dishes. We were at her house for dinner, and I was telling her, once again, about the tune.\n“I think it’s an old folk song, don’t you?.” I said. She laughed.\n“It’s kinda catchy, honestly.” She said, and closed the cabinet. “Wheeen the dark ones go to rest-“\n“The little one says oh do your best.”\n“And wheeeeen the tide rolls in again.”\n“The little one says I am dead, I am dead-“\n“I am dead, dead!.” My daughter sings.\n“Hey, no don’t say that.” I said, and picked her up. She snorted. I looked back at my friend. “I don’t know, Julie, it’s strange. I keep remembering more and more lyrics but nobody else knows the song.”\n\nIt’s been ten years since then, my little girl is thirteen, and I’m humming the tune in bed. And I realize finally what the last verse is.\n“When the sun goes down again they say sharpen your sword.\nAnd when the town goes quieter than a mouse they sharpen your sword.\nAnd when that little girl has done her best, grown old and her story is told\nSay when that little girls higher than the rest, her hands will go cold\nWheeeen the dark ones go to rest\nThe little one says oh do your best\nAnd wheeeen the tide rolls in again\nThe little one says I am dead, I am dead\nI am dead, I am dead\nHead in my hands, hands on my head\nGoodbye baby, the one I have led\nThe beautiful girl who’ll I’ll never see wed\nGoodbye darling, my soul is for you\nNow let’s all see the good you can do.”\nAnd I sighed in relief, but soon realized something was wrong. My daughter came into the room and my sight was going black.\n“Mom, your singing that stupid song again?.” She laughed. But I was distant, I tried to say something but my throat tightened. I felt my body going cold and my pulse slow. “Mom?.”",
"I wish I had never heard the song to begin with.\n\nIt started one crisp autumn morning. As I was getting ready to tackle the chores in the kitchen, I started humming a familiar tune. I say familiar because it was like a word stuck on the tip of my tongue. A part of me was sure I'd never heard the song out loud, while another part was certain I'd heard it recently.\n\n\"Oh, that's a good one,\" my roommate, Allie, commented as she came down the stairs.\n\n\"Do you know what the song is?\" I turned to face her. \"I can't remember where I heard it.\"\n\nAllie paused as she reached her purse and after a moment, she shrugged. \"I don't know. I'm pretty sure I've heard it, but I don't know what the title is.\"\n\n\"Do you know who sung it?\" I turned the faucet on to start the dishes.\n\n\"No. I don't remember any of the words either.\" Allie grabbed her keys from the hook and started for the door. \"I'll ask around and let you know if anyone has an idea.\"\n\n\"Okay, thanks. Have a good day,\" I turned quick as I heard the door open. \"And don't forget that we're supposed to watch that new movie later!\"\n\n\"I promise. I will be home and I won't forget. Bye, Tabs!\". The door shut behind her and that was the last time I saw Allie. \n\nAt least, I think it was."
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[WP] After years of suffering you finally succeed in your battle against Cancer, unfortunately for you the other 11 zodiacs aren't happy and are coming for you.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Ophiuchus!\" Taurus spits, pinning you against the wall with her sword at your neck. \"So you've finally escaped.\"\n\nYou look down at the blade with a nervous smile. \"That's the greeting I get? No love for your old friend?\"\n\nShe only glares back. \"You and I both know you're not supposed to be here. There are twelve zodiac signs. No more. You were never supposed to exist.\"\n\n\"Twelve zodiac signs?\" You grin. \"Who's to say there aren't?\"\n\nShe grits her teeth. \"What are you *talking* about?\"\n\nYou chuckle. Taurus tries not to look disconcerted at your laugh.\n\nLeo runs into the room. \"Taurus! You got him!\"\n\nTaurus doesn't look at Leo. She looks you in the eyes, fear flickering through her expression of rage. \"What do you *mean?!\"*\n\nLeo halts behind Taurus. \"Where's Cancer? Wasn't she supposed to be here?\"\n\nYou laugh. \"There are only twelve zodiac signs.\"\n\nTaurus's expression is consumed with nothing but terror. \"No... you couldn't...\"\n\nYou take advantage of her distraction to shove her away from you and make a run for it. Leo yelps and dashes after you, but you already have too much of a head start.\n\nIt's not like it would be a problem if he caught you anyway. They need you now.\n\nYou're the twelfth zodiac sign, after all."
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[WP] You just made a life changing discovery about dragons. They don't hoard gold for some greedy reason. The gold is literally just their old scales that shed as they grow new ones. Now you boldly stride up to the dragon with a business proposal.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Good lord, this one was long.\n\n**Deals in the Deep** \nr/AerhartWrites\n\nShivering under her longcoat, Sierra pulled her legs closer to her chest as she sat in the gargantuan, yawning hollow of the dead tree. The inside was lit only by the pitious flickers of the fire she had managed to coax from a collection of damp branches and tinder. She stared wearily into the forest outside. She was glad that the smoke did not collect and choke her, and only seemed to rise up infinitely into the inky black heights of the tree’s empty trunk.\n\nThe whirring timepiece on Sierra’s hand told her that it was only an hour past midday, but the undergrowth around her was cast in deep shades and a looming silence. The treetops were a distant blanket of mottled green above, held up by massive columns of bark and branch so wide and thick that Sierra was certain some of them could fit whole houses in them, were they only hollow as the one she now sat in.\n\nThe trunks themselves were similarly tall, and though she could see where they connected to the highest leaves, they were so far away she could not make out even the largest branches. Occasionally, the canopy above would shift in the winds and streams of light would reach down to forest floor, leaving blotchy pools of light where they touched the inches-thick carpet of dead branches and dying leaves. Then, slowly, they would shrink, dissolve, and fade back into shadow. Sometimes, Sierra thought she saw the faintest pinpricks of reflected light in those shadows; strange eyes and unknown beasts, watching her from the dark.\n\nSierra wondered if she had made a mistake in coming here. Mistakes had cost her greatly over the last few years. Memories drifted through her mind — vague silhouettes of hushed meetings with men in dingy shipyards; crates filled with gold, iron and gunpowder. Tear-stained recollections of a woman, all at once beautiful and tempestuous; and the whirlwind of blood and flame into which she disappeared. Now she was led to the Deepest Woods by the bloodiest and most sinister of her ambitions, and she hoped that it would not prove to be the latest of her calamitous missteps.\n\nSomething glinted, in the blackness beyond the light in front of her tree. Not the unsettling stare of eyes in the dark — no, it was the flash of metal, piercing and sharp. Sierra froze, listening. There was only the silence, for many moments. Then…\n\nIt was a shuffling, and a low scratching, and a crunching. The sound of dry leaves and branches, dragged across earth. The tearing of bark from trunk. The splitting of fresh wood. Then, nothing. Thick, looming silence hung over the undergrowth once more.\n\nSierra leapt up, eyes fixed, unblinking, on the patch of darkness. Carefully, she climbed from the tree, and toward the sound. Each step was laborious, painstaking. She passed over dry leaves and twigs, carefully laying tread to only the dampest stacks of foliage, or the most solid of roots. Each of her footfalls stood solid, and soundless. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her hands trembled.\n\nThe light around her began to fade. She dared not look away from where she had seen that solitary flash of light; but she knew the canopy was closing above, and the shadows were beginning to bite at the rapidly shrinking puddle of sunlight she stood in. She took a few more cautious steps, and then — mid-stride — Sierra was plunged into darkness.\n\nSierra didn’t move an inch. She stared blindly, body tensed and teeth gritted. Her ragged breaths would not cease. In her ears, each was a saw drawn over rough plank. But she waited. Soon, she knew, the canopy would shift again, and she would be able to see.\n\nMinutes passed. She felt the burning of her muscles, her skin shivering and breaking out in goosebumps against the damp cold of the still air. Sweat beaded on her neck and forehead. Still, she stood unmoving. Listening. Waiting. Watching.\n\nThen, the light returned. It started in front of her, a droplet of gold against the murky backdrop of the forest floor. It grew, flowing across the leaves and branches and stones, finally reaching the trees. It crept up roots and vines, throwing rough bark into sharp relief. But as the light climbed the trees, Sierra watched with horror as it shifted and changed. The light, was now rising twisted and bent — as if reflected and refracted through a thousand tiny glass shards.\n\nSierra spun around and backed away in a panic, her feet crunching through the woodland detritus. A pair of icy, scale-lidded eyes stared through her from a giant, horned lizard-like head. Wicked talons on great, leathered wings dug into the soft earth, rending deep gashes that bled mud. Somewhere behind it, a tail lashed, whipping flecks of bark into the air. Light reflected off shining the emerald and yellow scales covering every inch of it, throwing the distorted gold light everywhere.\n\nA relentless, grasping fear clawed its way up her throat. Sierra could only stare, wide-eyed. She was certain now that coming here had been a dreadful mistake, and that she was going to die for it. The journey of the last two weeks flashed through her mind; then the last months and years, and she felt a deep pit form in her chest. Why hadn’t she thought to bring weapons?\n\nFor an eternity, neither made any movement. Sierra wondered if she should get up. Would she startle it? Antagonise it? The creature could whip its tail, or swipe a claw, and she would be little more than the pieces of another dead carcass in the undergrowth. The thought chilled her, life flashing before her eyes again — and she came to realise: her life was empty. It hadn’t always been. She had once had fortune, respect, love. But those had gone, and she now found herself alone in the depths of the Deepest Woods, at the mercy of a dragon’s talons. She had nothing, now. As quickly as it had risen, the fear seemed to die then, the pit in her chest replaced with a yawning, empty numbness.\n\n“Where did you come from?” the dragon whispered. It was a growling reverberation, a rumble that shook leaves from their branches and loosened roots.\n\nSierra, still numb, stared blankly at the creature. It wasn’t the question she had been expecting.\n\n“Why should I tell you?” she replied, defiantly.\n\nShe didn’t know why she had decided to say that; she presumed it was reckless abandon — the foolishness so often confused for bravery in the face of dire and insurmountable odds. The kind that people took on in search of dignity in death.\n\nOne of the dragon’s talons reached down and scratched, dislodging a glittering thing, fist-sized, from its side. The object fell heavily into the mud, splattering it. At first, she thought it was a gold piece, or nugget — but then she realised the shield-shaped object was in fact one of its bright yellow-gold scales. The dragon spoke again.\n\n“Why,” it rumbled, “are you here?”\n\nSierra hesitated. At this point, she felt, there was little point in dishonesty. Besides, she had a feeling that those eyes — those icy, piercing eyes like arctic winds — would tear like a dagger through any veil of lies she might care to proffer.\n\n“I came in search of your hoard,” she said, trying to stand tall against the knowledge that those words could be her last.\n\nThe dragon’s head drew back and there came a sound, like a mighty roaring and scraping of boulders. Leaves and twigs loosed themselves from their branches and fell in the vibrations. The dragon, she realised, was laughing.\n\n“And how,” it asked smugly, “did you imagine you would carry it back?”\n\nSierra’s brow furrowed. Was it a riddle? She had always simply imagined hefting the fistfuls of coins and jewels into her knapsack and pouches. If anything was too large, she would simply break or chip off whatever she could hold. The simplicity of the question had caught her off guard, and the dragon seemed to sense her confusion.\n\n“Not all hoards are gold and silver,” it lectured. “Some of us collect things of far greater value, and much more difficult to plunder.”\n\nIt chuckled again at this last statement, though no foliage rained this time. Sierra felt the tension leave her body. Even if only for its apparent self-confidence, she did not feel the dragon was going to harm her — at least, not immediately. She decided to risk a question.\n\n“What is yours, then?” she asked, “Your hoard.”\n\nThe dragon contorted its face into what seemed to be a smirk. Pointed ivory teeth grinned at her from the corner of its mouth, each as long as her arm. She shivered.",
"\"Hail, great and terrible wyrm of the north-most forests.\"\n\nHearing my call, the dragon let out a derisive sigh. The horde of a dragon would provide one man with enough wealth to haul himself out of the peasant classes and straight into that of the landed and leisurely.\n\nThe stories you hear of knights in armour with embossed shields and plumed helmets gloss over the fact that knights do not fight dragons. Only one knight has faced a dragon to my knowledge - and that was Sir Alium. He went toe-to-toe with an adolescent wyvern, and that was the end of him. Burnt like an over-caramelised onion.\n\nHe hunted the dragon as his gambling debts had left him with no other alternative except exile.\n\nHe was foolish to take such a risk. After all, why would a knight fight a dragon? What do they have to gain from it? Dragons are lazy creatures if unprovoked but unrelenting if attacked. I once visited a village - Ingsbruk - that a Parnassian had decimated; I was friends with the baker's boy. I was the first to see the desolation: Thatched cottages were little more than tinder; the stone houses were pools of cooling magma. The earth was scorched, and plumes of smoke ascended into the sky like the gasses of gadesh. Colossal claw marks raked the ground, ten inches deep. It looked as if a plough furrowed it. For hundreds of yards, trees lay splintered, and some had been flung ten, even twenty feet from where they stood.\n\nFor all the horror, I now consider it the best day of my life: I found a single dragon scale. I now know it to have come from the leftward flank of the beast. Typically flank scales are larger, but this was the size of my twelve-year-old hand span. When I first picked it up, it was burning hot as if taken straight from the furnace. I still have the mark on my right hand; the scar is long and curved like a shard of the moon.\n\nThe scale took hours to cool, but I was surprised how light it was to hold when it did. It was as if it were made of balsa wood or sponge. The scale changed colour in the light, skimming between deep bronze, the reddish-orange of a fire's dying embers and gold, the colour of myth.\n\nTo find a dragon scale is considered a blessing from Gaurum. Yet, despite dragon scales' immense beauty and value, the only people to seek them are foolish or destitute. Those who have something to lose rarely throw it away for something as worthless as money.\n\nSo dragon-slaying is left to the most desperate down and outs. Often as not, it's orphans or outcasts, those who are wanted for petty crimes. If going home means hanging from the gallows, then almost certain death looks less daunting than it otherwise might.\n\nAnd if you manage to kill the beast, the horde will transform your life.\n\nPeople whisper that Duke Clotus himself is descended from a dragon-slayer. The whisperers say that the first of the Cloti house was a bread thief living an outlaws life when he came across a sleeping drake. Being a thief and an excellent thief at that, he prised a scale from the front of the dragon's chest. To his surprise, the beast did not wake; he then thrust a spear between its clavicle and sternum to piece its lungs.\n\nThe best died instantly, leaving him permanently marred from the gasses expelled from the dragon's ruptured lung. But the first of the Cloti stayed beside the dragon's corpse until he was back to full strength. Then, he ripped off every scale from the dragon's body and buried them all deep in a forest, using the scales as needed to establish his power.\n\nMost would-be dragon slayers have no armour and only the most basic of makeshift weapons—sharpened branches for a lance, rocks, stolen tools. It is a hopeless task.\n\n\\--\n\nHaving hailed the dragon, I took ten steps back and knelt upon the floor with my palms facing upward. I did not dare look at the dragon.\n\n\"I am a man of peace. Not of war. A man of learning.\"\n\nThe dragon's silence weighed heavy on me.\n\nI braved a look upward at the creature, which, now awake, was directing the full force of its powerful gaze straight at me.\n\nThe ground faintly shook, the dragon spoke.\"None who have seen me have lived.\n\nIt has been thus for ten lifetimes of man.\"As I knelt, listening to his words, feeling the heat rising, I believed every word he said. What was I doing? I was inviting certain death.--The day I found the dragon scale, I took it home and looked at it for hours. Its beauty captured me. I looked at by sunlight, moonlight and firelight.\n\nWith each light the scale took on a whole new form of beauty. I imagined the dragon who once wore it resting in the sun, catching and reflecting. Its body glistening a thousand shades of gold.\n\nI could see it with my mind's eye flying over treetops by a full moon—a silvery shadow of luminescence.\n\nI pictured it amid its fiery wrath, aglow with the colours of burning flame.\n\nIt was this night that I fell under the dragon's thrall. Could any creature be so beautiful?\n\nI still attended Holster each week and paid my respects to the godruim, but it was the fire drakes and winged wyrms which had my heart. I hid the scale within my bedroom wall, prising open a wooden plank to hide it and only taking it out for times of private worship in my home.\n\nWere I to sell it, this one scale would bring me enough fortune to buy my own land and pay others to work for me. I would never have to till the soil again. It would free me from the peasant's curse.\n\nBut I would not do such a thing, to sell something so beautiful - the thought of it made me despair. In these days I became obsessed.\n\nI spent what free time I had and the little money I could earn on learning more about dragons. As I read books, I learned stories and mapped their locations.\n\nOnce I learned of a rumour of a dragon only six days walk from my village. I played truant and sought it out. I fled my village and hiked for days, hoping to discover its lair.\n\nI was too late.\n\nThe divine creature was now dead. Every scale had been extracted from its corpse.\n\nDesecrated, it now lay a skeleton, every tendon and heartstring removed. Every inch of a dragon's body was precious.\n\nI wept that night.I grew to hate humanity and the depth of our depravity. Dragons were peaceful. Killing only when threatened. As I trekked back toward my village to face the lashes of my lord, my heart hardened towards my fellow man.\n\nI pursued my learning more fervently than before. Such that the local Druimite Preist took notice and he made my case to the lord that I should be a scholar, not a labourer.\n\nMay Elgash bless him, for I was taken under his wing to read and learn, never needing to till again. His own library was substantial, but I quickly ran out of books on my subject of interest.\n\nHe kindly sent out to his fellow priests for books, bemused by my interest in an esoteric topic. Whilst under his care, I also learned of grammar, druism and history. He was a humble man, but he was generous to me. I think he hoped I would one day take over his Holstorn. I feel regret that I could not.\n\nAs I grew older, Beloric, for that was his name, would take me with him when he went to synods and councils. These were hosted in the local capital, Ligrewel, and were a three-day wagon ride. The city was of rock and stone. There were no trees; it seemed cold even in the sun.\n\nThere were open braziers along the walls and many stood around them warming their hands in the night. They drank from flagons and sang slow and aching songs.\n\nWhilst Beloric attended the synod of priests, I spent my days in the library. Even here, there were not many books on the subject of dragons. Those that were there focused more on how to kill them and on the dangers of dragon fire. How I despised the evil gaze of my bretherin.\n\nIt did not please me to read such books. But I read them regardless. They were filled with myth and history, stories of glory and death.\n\nIt is hard to scry through the mists of myth to perceive the truth of the story. But it seemed that the one recurring pattern was that to kill a dragon, you must pierce it where it has already lost its scales. You cannot kill a dragon that still has all its scales.\n\nThe night I learned this, I did not sleep. I lay awake, thinking. I was disturbed only by the nasal breathing of Beloric in the other room.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nEdit: formatting as copied across from Word."
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[WP] The witch pointed to the directions on the love potion’s label. They clearly state that both partners are supposed to drink half.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Look, it's right there in black and white on the label. Ok, maybe not black and white but pink and purple, and if you catch it in the right light you don't even need a magnifying glass.\"\n\nThe girl huffed angrily; it had taken a lot of willpower to come back to Margaret's Magick, the weird Saturday market stall that promised 'Spells, potions, crystals and candles', and she'd hoped it would go a little differently. \"But what can I do now? He's become completely self-obsessed, spending half the day looking in the mirror and the rest of the time checking how many upvotes he's got for his latest post on reddit. How can I get him to love me now?\"\n\nThe old witch put down her phone, and looked at her customer, \"It's a six week potion, ok? It's the optimal time frame to establish a habit without needing too many exotic ingredients or blowing the subject's head off.\"\n\n\"As I say, six weeks is enough time to establish the behaviour, but once that time is up, you can try again. If you haven't moved on to someone else by then, and if this one hasn't become too insufferably vain. Come back in five weeks and I'll give you 25% off another love potion. \"\n\nShe picked her phone up, unlocked it with a crooked thumb and sat back, returning to whatever she'd been scrolling through. After a minute, sensing the girl was still there looking deflated and dithering, she said without looking up, \" I can sell you a crystal buttplug and a thousand instagram followers for thirty quid. Should keep you busy for the next six weeks.\"\n\nShe took two breaths, then accepted the girl's proffered notes, which immediately disappeared into the folds of her black dress. In her other hand appeared a small black velvet bag, which she handed over without looking up. \"See you in five weeks. There's lube in the bag…\""
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[WP] In the future, every 4 years a new president is randomly selected from the population. You have been chosen.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Every 4 years in the future - my present - a president is randomly chosen from the population. This time, it is I, Quentin Dillius, who has been chosen. \n\nAt first, I was elated, excited at the prospect of what I could do whilst in rule. But, to be honest, it got tiring fairly quickly. All the paperwork and jobs to do, not enough time for leisure; all it is is do this and that, never any time to relax. However, it does also have it's advantages.\n\nFor example, I can call upon a servant any time I want to, or have practically infinite food and drink of my own choice. People finally listen to me, unlike when I was a pawn shop owner in Colorado. Things seemed to turn up for me.\n\nYet whenever I thought of all the positive things my position has brought it is always ruined by more people compaining. Complain - it's all they ever do! I do not understand why, either; how can the famines be of my cause? And how was I meant to know raising taxes would not do well with the public? And those bridges that collapsed, it is their fault, not mine! Apparently I need to increase funding for construction.\n\nI sigh, taking a breathe of fresh air as I try to forget about my responsibilities. I wish I could be a child again, and do whatever I please with limited consequences. All I had to fear back then was a detention. But no, now I have all these things to do, to complete, to constantly work on and think about. It plagues my mind like a pestilence, swarms my mind as if a hive of bees, an infestation in an ant's nest. I cannot leave all these things behind.\n\nI slam my fist on a wall in fury, causing some paperwork to scatter on the floor; I look outside, the canvas of blue so welcoming, birds - free birds - gliding across it's cloud-stained surface. I wish I could be like those birds.\n\n\"Mr President, your dinner,\" announces a butler, presenting me with a lamb stew. I sniff at it, thanking the chef, and begin eating at once. Even when you are president you still get to enjoy some well cooked lamb.\n\nYet not even a mere minute later, another butler comes up to me and hands me a petition signed by thousands on the recent news of the murders. Apparently, 76 percent of all killings in America are committed against black people, and the population did not take this prejudice lightly. They are saying the president is turning a blind eye to these statistics, when I had no idea about them!\n\nIn a public speech I announce that I shall try to change this, although it would not be easy changing people's minds about racial diversity. I would try, however, and be the beacon of light, of reason, to our great country. Deep down I know this is all lies, and I would not be able to bring down the statistic to 50 percent as I had promised. Yet a vain effort in protests had already been done by the public for me.\n\nThen, the next day, it is, \"Sir, we need you to increase funding for children's healthcare; they do not have enough and a large percentage of the population admit they cannot do much for their sick offspring.\"\n\nI sigh, also addressing these pressing matters in a coming speech, and announce that - again - I would try in a vain effort to stop this. It was simpler, however, as all I needed to do was begin a new charity by the name of \"Healthcare for Kids\", employ many people to work for it, begin changes in states, start advertising...\n\nI sigh: evidently, this would be a lot of work. I begin making a simple advert for the website in which you can donate (which I highly encourage!) and manage to create something that would manage for the time being. A catchy slogan ('hunger shall be no more') was created and I happily announced to the public my plans and the website.\n\nHowever, and much to my surprise, the public were not happy with these circumstances. They said I wold be targetting only a specific number of people, and that small percentage being mainly white capitalists. I nearly laugh at these accusations, but without concrete evidence my claims of, \"That's ludicrous!\" did nothing more than to serve as the headline for that week's news article. I seemed to see my face in the news a lot; it was as if staring into a mirror, my well-shaven moustache glinting at me as I drank my morning coffee. I could not understand how people found these claims, and I spend another night addressing them further.\n\nI did not get much sleep that night, and my insomnia-driven body managed to put on some clothes the next day and go to do a speech. This time, I made sure to bring evidence in the form of eye witnesses and pie charts with me, which I had spent a while creating, yet somehow they were still not tamed. The public is often like wild animals, and I do not portray everyone as this, I must remark, but most news reporters at least are. They crave attention, watch time, your eye on theirs, and do not give much care to public well-being. That is what I turned MY attention to next.\n\nPositivity, mental awareness, all that. It had been done before but not to this extent. In the year 2065, America had suffered a crisis similar to The Great Depression, where inflation and other causes had led the public to mass hysteria. There had not been enough coverage on how people felt during those times, I believed, and I strived to do more. Patriotic as ever, I created a similar website to that of \"Healthcare for Kids\" and encouraged all citizens of our \"great\" country to talk to others if they felt the need to do so. I also remarked that therapy was a good cause of happiness, and that it helped a lot of people get through tricky times. This was another thing the public did not enjoy. \n\n\"How could you go out and make a blatant statement such as that!\" a public member - conveniently someone campaigning for president (not that it mattered anyway, as it was randomly selected) exclaimed, seething with fury. Dressed in my tailor suit, my tie drooping down, I stare in shock. I try to defend my point, perspiring all the while, yet they would have none of it. This was another case were the leader of the country was \"ignoring his advisors\" and \"going rogue with power\". I sighed my eyes and rolled them, unbelieving, and a clip of me doing so went trending on twitter, with many people commenting that this was the leader THEY had chosen.\n\nYes - they had chosen, they had said. I pointed out that there was no voting taken into account when I was selected as president, and that in fact the only reason I had the job was because of the random system we had created. I also showed them that a random homeless man with no knowledge of politics could well be chosen for the task, and that we would be powerless to stop it from happening. I called for us to strip this system and have democracy again, and many supported my claims. Finally, I was popular with the public!\n\nProtests ran out all across the states, with the police force suffering a great incline in workers. It seemed that the SWAT team was dealing with too much vandalism, brutality and assault for their liking, so I called for people to stop protesting and instead ran a petition which millions signed. It seemed, for once, that people agreed with me, and we stopped using the system and reverted back to sweet, old democracy. Sure, it has it's flaws, but it is better with the random system we used earlier.\n\nThose are my - Quentin Dillius' - experiences as the 107th president of the united states.",
"I woke up with a wince, my head pounding as the alarm assaulted my ears. The screeching must be destroyed --my hand patting along the bedside table to find my phone. I clicked the side button and dropped it beneath my bed, rolling over to nest once again in my warm comforter. \n\nI blinked awake moments later, my mouth dry. I flipped back over and reached for my phone, shoving through socks and clothes to find it again. \n\nIt's *today*. Today's the day. I have $60 riding on the new pick for President being from the Omega district, and I am desperate to be right. I spent my last few dollars on my bar tab last night, and I was broke until my paycheck hit my account. It was minute compared to what my parents made back before the Reformation, but they also had to pay for so much more than me. \n\nThere was a time when two political parties fought for dominance of the county; a place they no longer understood or cared for, but they wanted the glory. Finally, their outliers became their leads and it fractured the country. My eighth grade history teacher fought in the Second Civil War, and had some horror stories from his time behind the red lines before the Aural Alliance stepped in to shut it all down. \n\nAnd now, here we are, fifteen leadership cycles later. Today, our identification codes are randomized and one person will step up to lead. \n\nGod, I hope it's not another rats-hole again. The last one nearly bankrupt my social savings by blowing it on self-guided tours to Mars. Like, dude, you're the Aurual President, not the Martian one. They have things covered over there - we need more help here. \n\nI flipped on my vidscreen, and went about my morning routine - food bar, hygiene, coffee - while the presenter rattled on about the great developments of the last fourteen leaders. Advances in technology, clearing up the garbage that was in our atmosphere, the income/living wages paradox being removed. \n\nIt's a happy day; the outgoing President is usually weeping tears of joy to be able to pass on the burden. Poor suckers. \n\nI glanced at the time - 10:00am Aural Standard Time. It would be any second. \n\nMy phone pinged, and the vidscreen blipped. The outgoing president smiled warmly through the screen. \n\nWait, that's weird. They never show the outgoing on the same day. \n\n\"Good morning, Charity. I'm sorry I can't join you this morning. However, I wanted to share a moment with you before they descended -- I've only managed to delay the announcement by a few moments, but..\" My phone pinged again. \"Oh, goodness. Charity, you mustn't trust the Council. Don't listen to them blindly like I did. They're not what they seem. Don't let them harvest you.\" \n\nOutside, people cheered. The outgoing President's face faded as the livestream took over again. \n\nMy face emerged with it. \n\nWhat the hell. I'm out $60.",
"I can hear the cheers and feel the applause of everyone clapping beyond my window. I can almost sense the excitement of the nation as a new president has been selected. Fireworks in the distant closer to the city can be seen high above, they were almost like dancing stars in the night sky. My phone continued to buzz as I sat on the couch staring at the screen. Reporters hugging each other and tears can be seen running down their cheeks, more clips and scene of people around the country rejoicing. Everyone, every person young and old, every ethnicity, every sexuality in the same way. Their happiest day every four years because on this day, January 1st. They have not been selected, to be the next president. My phone continues to buzz as I can see notifications pop up, for a moment I saw one from my mom only with a crying emoji, didn’t realize my mom knew how to use emojis. There’s siren in the distant inching closing by the second. My lips feel dry, the glass on the table emptied even though I don’t remember finishing it. I look outside the window again, a helicopter now visible. My body vibrating, as my phone is buzzing from incoming calls. Again the sirens are getting louder and louder, I look outside again and from the end of the block, black suvs with flashing red and blue lights. I clenched my fist and can feel my dinner coming back up, I’m sweating and dizzy. I can almost faint, I look back at the screen. There in big letters with a picture to accompany it is me. I am the next president."
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[WP] Animals have found their way of communicating and being understood, but its smooth soulful jazz.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
" Ben hated jazz. It was too much in the middle. Too many instruments, too many sounds. And it didn't convey anything. He hated it for the same reason he hated Coco Pops. It wasn't rice bubbles: delicious, plain, husky puffs of rice that hit the spot. And it wasn't tasty enough to be chocolate. It was just in the middle: just an irritating half-cereal, half-treat that had no place on his table at breakfast or as pick-me-up at the end the day. \nAnd so he was slightly annoyed when a sparrow outside the window started singing in the quick rhythm and whiny note style of a clarinet. \nThe sound was spoiling his breakfast, and he had to push way his half-soggy bowl of half eaten rice bubbles and milk across the table. \n“Shut up”, he said, banning his hands on the table. \nInstead of stopping, the sparrow interspersed its steady clarinet-like song with sharp, loud bursts that sounded like a trumpet. \nBen pushed himself up from the table and looked out the dining room window with a scowl forming on face. The sparrow was bobbing up and down on a branch just outside the window, singing away and swivelling its head back and forth. When it saw Ben standing there it was unperturbed, and jumped closer towards him on to a smaller branch, which now bobbed up and down furiously as the sparrow continued its music. It added some flourishes. A twist of the head, a shake of one wing. \nFurious, Ben made his way outside. He had to swerve to avoid his cat, Tibbles, who had a waken from her slumbers on the couch as result of the bird’s ruckus. Once outside, Ben approached the tree quickly and was surprised when the sparrow did not fly away. There it was, not half a metre from his face, bouncing up and down in its irritating half-gleeful, half-serous dance. \nHe waived his hands at it. But the sparrow took that as encouragement. It started pecking its beak against the branch, adding a drumline to its rhythmic clarinet and jolting trumpet. Exasperated, Ben unwound the garden hose from its catch on the wall, pointed the nozzle at the bobbing bird and turned the tap on full force. \nThe jazz came to an abrupt halt as the drenched sparrow flew off into the sky. Relieved, Ben rushed back indoors so he could finish his cereal before heading off to work. He had to swerve past Tibbles in the lounge whose hindquarters were swaying backwards and forwards in a very non-Tibbes-like way. But he thought nothing of it as he shoved a soggy spoonfull of mushy rice bubbles into his mouth. \nA horrific sound then erupted from the lounge, almost causing him to choke. It sounded like a cat dying. \nHe found Tibbles perched on top of the book case – the highest spot in the room – tapping her paws on the roof in a quickly accelerating beat. Head tilted back, she loosed another grating whiney noise that was equal parts saxophone and fingernails scraping down a blackboard. \nShe was joined in short measure by a burst of music from outside the house as a few bellbirds added some clarinet and trombones to Tibble’s shaky lead. Compared to the cat, theirs was infinitely more smooth, and Ben almost found himself enjoy it."
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[WP] You’re getting ready to fight off the biggest villain in the city, when suddenly they fall forwards, sobbing into your chest.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The villain sneers at me, the red-yellow lightning marking those with super speed flickering all over his whole body. I tilt my cloaked head. Familiar, this one. \n\n\"I will destroy you, *hero*,\" he pronounces grimly, \"just as you destroyed my people. My city. My fam-\" \n\nI uncover my cloak, and he chokes mid-word. \n\n\"You.\"\n\nI stare, and he rips his cowl off, hazel eyes the same color as mine flickering with red lightning as he gazes in shock and something a little like hope. \"It's- it's you. How is it you?\" He flashes around me, studying me from every angle. \"You're- the same. How are you-\" He stops, and though the lightning thickens I can see his disbelief. \"I- I thought you were dead. I thought you died when the heroes - those stupid heroes - didn't save you, sis.\"\n\n\"I lived,\" I whisper.\n\nHe's beginning to cry, and I reach out and wiping away the tears. \"Brother,\" I say, cupping his cheek, widening my eyes, and he breaks.\n\n\"Sister,\" he sobs, and falls forward, clutching me like he's drowning. \"Sister, it's you. It's you, it's you, it's you.\"\n\nI wrap my arms around him. \"I missed you.\"\n\nHe clutches me harder, and I gasp as the lightning burns. He flinches back. \"I'm sorry,\" he says. \"It's- it's been so long since I've stopped moving, I- I didn't-\"\n\n\"Try?\" I say, a tear escaping. \"I want to hug you again.\"\n\nHe nods desperately, and draws back. He trembles violently for a moment, and the lightning thins and vanishes. Then it's just me and a lonely boy, falling toward each other on a rooftop. \n\nHe reaches out for a hug, the first hug he's had with his sister in years-\n\nAnd gapes when I snap the power-dampening cuffs onto his wrists. \n\n\"Well,\" I say, flipping my hair over my shoulder and wiping the fake tears out of my eyes. \"Honestly, I thought that would require more effort. How were you ever one of the most dangerous villains? One look at this face-\" I gesture to myself dramatically. \"-and you can't *wait* to disable your powers. Ridiculous.\"\n\n\"How- you- sis-\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm not your sister,\" I say, shifting back into my true form. \"But you sure thought I was. And now I've proved my worth to the rest of the supers.\"\n\nHe stares and then curses. \"Shapeshifter.\"\n\nI wink, and drag him back to HQ. \n\n\n\n// Ending a bit rushed, ha, can you tell, but thought I might as well post anyway. :)"
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[WP] You descend calmly into the swimming pool and look down, only to see it doesn't have a bottom.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I'm underwater. Since when am I underwater? Doesn't matter. It's kinda nice.\n\nI look down. I'm in a pool. So that's why I'm underwater. I'm swimming in a pool. My aunt's pool.\n\nMy aunt? Where is she? I don't know. I'm wearing a swimsuit. My hair is flowing everywhere.\n\nIt's long. Was my hair always this long? Was I always this short? Of course I'm short, I'm only twelve.\n\nThis is nice. It's quiet. I look down again. The bottom looks far away. Am I in the deep end? I could've sworn I was in the shallow end.\n\nI should swim down. And touch the bottom. That sounds fun, and I'd get bragging rights. I swim downward. I'm not getting closer to the bottom.\n\nThis is getting less nice. I feel the weight of the water on my body. Body? I have a body. It hurts. The chlorine is stinging my eyes.\n\nI can't see. Where's the bottom? Am I crying? I need to breathe. I look up. Where's the trees? There were so many trees just a minute ago.\n\nWhere's the surface? I was so close to the surface. Wasn't I? Where's the surface? Where are the walls? I need to breathe.\n\nThere are no walls. I'm scared. There's no surface. Where did the sunlight go? It's getting dark. I feel like the time I drank beer by mistake. I need to breathe.\n\nThere's nothing but water. I'm scared. I need to breathe. I want my mom. My face hurts. I need to breathe. I inhale water. My lungs hurt.\n\nI try to scream. It hurts. It gets quiet. I drown. Again. I wake up.\n\nI'm home. In my room. Above the bed. I'm not in the water. I can breathe if I want to. I remind myself that. I breathe. My roommate is leaning in the doorway.\n\n\"Another of those nightmares?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"If only you could get therapy.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Wanna get some boba?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nThanks for reading! I have a sub, r/RandomClodWrites!"
] | 2
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[WP] You’re an assassin, and you kill people for money, no more no less. But now is the first time in your career you are hesitating going through with a job.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Breathe in. \n\nSteady. \n\nBreathe out. \n\nBANG!\n\nThe target dropped like a sack of potatoes. Just like that, gone. \n\nIt was nothing personal. It paid the bills, kept you clothed and fed. You'd been doing this for three decades, including the training that started when you were still learning how to talk. It was as easy as breathing. \n\nYou got up, wiped yourself of the abandoned building's dirt, and headed to the mafia's headquarters. There, you were given your new mission. Someone named \"John Doe\", who was a level three threat. So, not much. Not like you cared, you were just curious. \n\nYou'd gone through the motions, eager to get it done with. This kill would grant you a promotion, and you could use the money. And everything was fine, until you saw that your target was a child, and just how the child was treated. His face was contorted in fear as his parent did unspeakable things to him. It took everything in you to not shoot the parent instead. How could someone do that to their own child? The longer you stalled, the longer the child suffered. \n\nBreathe in. Was there really no other way?\n\nSteady. Was it worth it?\n\nBreathe out. Were you really going to kill a child?\n\nBANG! There's no going back. The target dropped like a sack of potatoes. Just like that, gone."
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[WP] You have lived an insignificant life. After you die, your ghost sticks around for your funeral. Only one person shows up, but you can't remember having met them before. As they cry in front of your grave, they call you a liar.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"*Liar* she thought quietly to herself and \"LIAR\" she suddenly shouted, interrupting the priest in his disconnected musings. And suddenly she could not hold it in any longer. Like a dam overflowing, spilling out and crushing everything in its path, you can't just sit still and take it any more.\n\nStanding up, you take in the empty pews around you. The organist who was quietly collecting his sheets of music had apparently noticed your outburst, and looks down on you. With the sunbeams colourfully filtering through the ornamental window behind him, he takes on a vagueness that gives you pause.\n\nBut nothing can stop you now, and you march up to the altar, rudely (you distantly recognize) pushing the priest aside. Directing your voice to the multitude of empty pews, you see them looking back at you - expectantly. As if wondering *who was this man resting in the wooden box in the corner.* And you could tell them... oh you could tell them so many things. So many things that had shaken your own world to the foundations, but... knowing that the world outside would smugly ignore every single earth shattering word, you take breath and close your eyes. \"Liar\" you say softly into the room, and the architecture carries your word back to the organist.\n\nNow firmly placed with the sun behind him, you can only see his silhouette. A countour of pain and sorrow and a life you wished you could live again. Differently. But as a cloud obscures the sun, you see the Organist clearly. His face and his eyes, looking directly at you and smiling.\n\nAnd you feel. If not understanding, at least a form of closure. And as you smile back, the Organist has disappeared. And where he stood is a glimmer of sunlight and shadow, drifting away through the empty church. Like a ghost.",
"*So, this is my own funeral? How dull. Mom and dad died a while back, Alice broke off contact when she left the house, and Jake ran away when we were just kids. I guess I was the last one.* \n*Heh.*\n\n*And what a way to go. Dying in my sleep after a party? Damn that’s embarrassing. And to think I had all those plans for after college, guess I’ll never become an engineer now. Oh well, sounds like a lotta work anyway.*\n\n*“Just hurry up and drop the box in there! I wanna get to the afterlife soon!”*\n\n...\n\n*Of course they can’t hear me.*\n\n*I can’t believe no one showed up. My roommate, Tom, my crush, Emily, not even my best friend.*\n\n*“Man, this blows.”*\n...\n\n*“Huh?”*\n\nA girl approaches the coffin.\n\n*“Who’re you?”*\n\n”You’re a liar... a liar...” she whispered as tears slid down her cheeks.\n\n*“Way to disrespect the dead, bud. Callin me names when I can’t respond, real nice.”*\n\n*“Not like I care, though. Go ahead. Rip him to shreds, I won’t stop ya.”*\n\nShe sits there alone, crying and repeating “a liar”.\n\n*”This really how you wanna spend such a nice autumn day? C’mon, even my closest friends didn’t care to show up, why does some girl I’ve never met waste her time on my corpse when they won’t?”*\n\nShe simply sits there muttering the words “a liar, a liar, a liar, a liar.... You lied to me, little brother!”\n\n*”What?”*\n\n*“Wait, you can’t really be... Alice? Heh. It’s been so long I couldn’t even recognize you.”*\n\n“Goodbye, sister” *he mutters, looking away to avoid her inability to react. He cast one last glance at the sister he once knew and found her staring directly back at him.*\n\n“Brother?”",
"\n\n\n\nThey say your life flashes before your eyes when you die. \n\nMaybe to remind you that you’ve lived, or maybe to give you some light in all the darkness. But nobody ever thinks about the lone man on his bed thousands of miles away. That when he dies, the only thing memory taught him was that he was dying to live. \n\nPerhaps life is like that for the sad; so meaningless that not even life can make death seem meaningful. \n\nThe lone man a thousand miles away had no happy memories, no family, no friends. No one but himself. \n\nAnd maybe that’s why he lives on, why his ghost attaches itself to his grave, because even in death, there’s still a small part of himself that wants to live. \n\n—\n\nThe funeral is small, almost nonexistent. No one shows up except for one woman. \n\nOne woman, that for the life of him, he can’t remember ever knowing. She’s staring straight ahead, her expression stoic, but her eyes solemn. Her hair falls down her face, almost as if to conceal herself, and her hands are balled into fists, tense and angry, and if he looks a little closely, calloused and tired. Rough and raw. Probably used again and again, probably a hard worker. There’s nothing kind about her hands. \n\nIt’s only when the priest leaves and she’s alone in the graveyard that she finally makes her way to the grave. \n\nShe stands there, her head slightly bowed, her eyes suddenly focused, and he realizes that she’s reading the epitaph. *His* epitaph. No one was going to be there to write one for him, so he wrote one himself: \n\n*Wherever I am, I hope it’s somewhere where the sky is blue. And wherever you are, I hope it’s not here.* \n\n“Liar,” she hisses. “You’re such a liar.” There are tears in her eyes now, and he watches as she places her hands atop his gravestone, weeping silently. “How can I be anywhere but here?” \n\nSlowly, almost as if the action were painful, she traces his words with her fingertips. “This is all I have left of you,” she whispers. “All I’ll ever know of you.” \n\nThe woman looks up then, and he looks up too. Silently, he wonders what she’s seeing, who she is, what he means to her. What she could have meant to him. \n\n“Well,” she says, a quiet laugh breaking through the silence. “The sky’s blue over here. I hope it’s blue for you, too.” \n\n*It is,* he wants to tell her. *It’s never felt more blue in his life.*\n\nWhen she finally removes her hands from his grave, she does so slowly, like she wants to hold on a little longer. Her hands may not be smooth or soft or even gentle, but he thinks that maybe they *are* kind. That maybe just because something looks homely, doesn’t mean it actually is. \n\nAnd when she speaks for the final time, he can hear the longing in her voice, can feel the pain in her chest. “Bye, Dad.” \n\nAnd then she’s walking away, and everything becomes fuzzy and there’s a pain in his chest and he’s trying to remember, he’s trying so hard, but he can’t, and he’s chasing after her, looking into her face and — \n\nAnd then he sees it. Her mother. Those green eyes so like the ones he can still remember. He only had them for one night, but one night was enough. \n\nOne night led to *this*. To *her.* To his daughter. The daughter he never even knew he had. The daughter who had supposedly come looking for him only to find out that he was buried six feet underground. \n\nIf only she had come earlier, if only he had more time, if only he had *known.*\n\nBut he hadn’t, and his chance of knowing her had gone — ripped away from him like the happiness he never had and like the life he never got to live. \n\nGhosts may not be able to cry, but he’s weeping. Silently, agonizingly, longingly. \n\nHappily. \n\nHe has a daughter. And even if no one else showed up to his funeral, she did. She shed tears for him, grieved for him even though she never got to know him, loved him in her own broken, fragmented way. \n\nBecause even in death, he was still important to her. \n\nEven in death, he lives on. \n\n—\n\n/r/itrytowrite",
"The pastor talked on about life, death, and Jesus or something. I wasn’t ever religious but I suppose it’s the thought that counts. \nWhy would a church go through all the theatrics of a funeral that no one wanted to come to? \nIt’s all pantomime at a certain point. \nI hung back. I couldn’t tell if anyone could see me or if I looked like a cartoon version of a ghost. I was still getting used to being outside of a human shell. \n\nI was deep in thought when a young lady approached the funeral. The pastor looked puzzled or perhaps embarrassed. As if she was walking in on him practicing. \n\n“Ma’am, the Jones funeral doesn’t start until 5pm.” He politely informed her.\n\n“I’m at the right funeral. Please continue.” She confirmed.\n\n“…both thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for us. We were taken out of the ground and taken from the dust…and to the dust we shall return.” The pastor continued. \n\nThe woman’s mouth wrenched upside down and tears ran down her cheeks. Her shoulders quaked as she gave into weeping. The pastor rested a comforting hand on her shoulder before walking away. The young lady gently sat on her knees as her weeping slowly faded into a sniffle. \n\nI felt bad…I didn’t recognize her. I wasn’t really close with anyone at all. No one was close with me. But this person, this woman, was really sad over my death. It’s like being sad over an ant. There’s billions of them, what does it matter if one died? I didn’t know if it would work but I wanted to speak with her to know why she was so broken up. \n\n“Hello, miss?” I asked. I don’t know why I asked, it was my funeral but I didn’t want to interrupt her grieving. \n\n“Yes?” She answered as she turned to face me. “Can I help you?” \n\n“Hi. I’m curious…did you know this man?” I inquired. I suppose, when you’re ghost, it’s easier to skip the ice breaking process. \n\n“No. Not in person. Not at all actually. We’ve only had one conversation.” She confirmed. \n\n“Why are you so torn over him then?” I asked, even more intrigued. \n\n“He called out for help. I answered. But it was too late.” She said as her grief began to reignite. \n\nOf course, I knew exactly who she was. But she was wrong. I didn’t call for help. I only called because I wanted someone to find my body before it stank up the whole apartment complex.\n\n“I couldn’t save him, ya know? It was my job to but I couldn’t do it.” She cried. \n\n“Whoa, hey there.” I sad as I knelt down to face her. “It’s not your fault. Maybe he was too far gone already. Maybe he was certain. Maybe he lived a meaningless life.” I assured her. \n\n“That’s not true. No one lives a meaningless life.” She declared. \n\n“That’s not true either. I lived a life once, in which I wasn’t happy. I worked a job that I hated, I was estranged from my family, and I didn’t have any passions. It was terrible. It’s a meaningless life. I was this man.” I said. \n\n“Yeah well, you’re a liar.” She alleged. \n\n“How so?” I challenged. \n\n“If you ARE this man in the ground. You’d know…what you said to me over the phone. But you’re a liar, so you don’t know.” She said. \n\nMy heart dropped and I realized that she was truly hurt. Somehow, I felt a lump in my throat. \n\n“I told you that you were way more important than I’ll ever be…I told you that you meant something to people. You helped them and I was envious of that because it was something that I could never do. I could never be something to anyone. That if I hadn’t have called you, no one would find me.” I reminded. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Who knew ghosts cried? \n\n“It is you…” she sighed as she cried some more. \n“You’re life wasn’t meaningless. You were something to me.” \n\n“What was I then?” I asked.\n\n“You were my validation. That I was where I belonged. Isn’t that what anyone wants? But you…I don’t know why but I thought I could change your mind. You made me feel like I was needed. The police asked us for the audio tapes and when they came to pick them up, they told me they’d found you. They were so cold about it.” She said\n\n“Ma’am, I didn’t mean to make you feel sad. I was…I was a just ready to go. I didn’t feel anything.” I tried to assure her.\n\n“LIAR!!” She cried. “You did! You felt it when you spoke with me. I know you did.” \nThe woman looked right through me. \n\n“You’re right. I did. You were the only person that’s ever cared to listen to me. I know it was your job but still. You listened to me. The one person that’s ever listened to me and I told her how important she was, because it’s true. You are more special than you’ll ever know.” I said. \n\nWe sat and talked until she had to leave. \n\nI don’t leave the cemetery. I just walk around with the other spirits. Most of them of have “unfinished” business but I just have business. A couple times a week she comes back and we talk. Didn’t ever realize how cathartic talking was until she came around. Some times she cries, most times we both cry. But we talk and she goes on. Life goes on. Except this time, it’s not so bad."
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[WP] Music is an instrument of war. Orchestras are platoons, Conductors are Generals, Soloist are powerful soldiers and so on.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Music is war; there was no other way to put it. Led by conductors, great armies of orchestras marched to battle - brandishing instruments as if weapons - and composed their music. It was a regular sight to see two sides in a forest, harsh notes of disagreement blasting reveberating around the clearing, causing animals to evacuate.\n\nThe most powerful soldier was Ed Sheeran, his vocals like bullets, and whenever he went into battle the other side trembled with fear. He flashed his spotify playlist at them, and after a couple simple notes, the opponents were obliterated. \n\nMore drones of music, accompanied by yells and commands, erupt, as both sides desperately want to win. Violins whispering their melodies, pianos jumping up and down, drums marching to a beat and trumpets blaring their loud jolts of noise, it was a contest to see who was best. \n\nThey fought until nightfall, all desperate to stop, yet fingers refused to stop, voices would not shut up, and it continued until morning. Seemingly, there was no winner.",
"Deena sat on the edge of her seat, as still as she could.\n\nAcross the table from her, a stern man surveyed her with shadowed eyes. The mottled uniform did little to camouflage his youth, but his expression gave his youthful face a hardness that belied his years.\n\n\"Why do you want to join the Royal Symphony?\" \n\nDeena cleared her throat, eager to calm her heart.\n\n\"My father was a soloist. He fought in the Great Cacophony. I want to make him proud.\"\n\n\"What's your specialty?\" The cutting edge in his voice was gone.\n\n\"Well, my specialty is flute, but I'm also trained on the violin and concertina.\"\n\nThe recruiter steepled his hands and stared at her for a moment before speaking. \"Let's get you down to the recital hall and see what you can do.\"\n\nA short trek later, Deena found herself in a blank room. Soundproofing covered every surface of the walls and door. A battered, dented, and damaged flute was presented to her. The recruiter stepped back, took a seat, and played a solid, crystal clear note on a cello. As he did, Deena saw the slight shimmer in the air around him - a bubble barrier. \n\nTaking a deep breath, Deena brought the flute to her lips and began. A slow steady note, somewhat flat, erupted to life. As it did, she mentally pictured the air moving out of the flute and into the world. She saw the fabric of the note, and willed it to solidify and form to her desire. \n\nA moment later, a sheet of energy hung in the air five feet from her. With a drop of two notes, she had made it opaque. A screen to hide behind. \n\nBolstered by this success, Deena began a series of staccato notes. Each one she formed and fired as a bullet as quickly as her tongue could fragment them. Lowering the flute, she fought back a smirk as her screen had seven neat holes where she had shot.\n\nTo round out her performance, she played a soft, slow rhythm, weaving the notes in and out. As she did, she weaved the holes of the screen back together. She thought for a moment about how this song was meant to weave flesh, but forced the thought away.\n\nNervously, she glanced over at the recruiter. His stern expression was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a grin. \n\n\"Welcome to the Royal Symphony. Would you like to join the Healing Harmonics, Staccato Support, or Arpeggio Artillery?\""
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[WP] You're in hell, which is weird since you just faked your death
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"When I opened my eyes I was surrounded by fire and dust. The stench of burning flesh scalded my nostrils and flames licked at my ankles. Tortured screaming echoed in the darkness. And sweat started to soak through my shirt.\r \n\r \n“Fuck.”\r \n\r \nI put my hands on my hips and turned slowly, taking in my new environment. It was clearly Hell. That much was obvious. I scowled at the thought that those religious assholes back home were right.\r \n\r \n“Ummm, excuse me? Are you lost?” a small voice cried out from behind me.\r \n\r \nI spun on my heels and stared down at what I had to assume was a tiny little demon.\r \n\r \n“Lost is how you describe someone who can’t find their way out of the bra section of a Kohl’s. I’m not lost. I’m in Hell. I’m just not supposed to be here.”\r \n\r \nThe demon rolled his four eyes. “Yeah, we get that a lot. Let me guess, you were a good person who always helped others, you just also were a massive unrelenting bigot who screamed at service workers?” He began to flip through a small clipboard, pen in hand.\r \n\r \n*Where do you buy a clipboard that small*, I wondered. *Do they have Staples in Hell? Oh wait, I bet it’s an OfficeMax.* \r \n\r \n“Excuse me, miss, did you hear what I said?” interrupted the demon.\r \n\r \n“Huh? Oh right, you were asking if I was a huge bitch or whatever. Yeah, no, that isn’t the problem here, necessarily...you see, I wasn’t supposed to die.”\r \n\r \nThe demon didn’t look up from his clipboard. “Well we hear that a lot too. ‘I’m too young to be dead.' 'I had so much I was looking forward to.’ ‘Please I’ve got a family I need to take care of.’ You guys are all the same.”\r \n\r \nI stomped up to the knee-height demon and peered down into his beady soulless eyes. “You’re not listening to me! I faked my death! I wasn’t supposed to die! I was just supposed to look like I was dead. Idiot!”\r \n\r \nThe demon chuckled. “Ahhh you should have started with that!”\r \n\r \n“Then, you can help me?”\r \n\r \n“Oh no no no, absolutely not. It’s just a totally different section in our files. Not sure why but when are bureaucracies ever easy, you know?”\r \n\r \nMy jaw dropped. *I was dead. Like dead dead. Like rest in pieces you dumb bitch dead.*\r \n\r \n“Fuuuucckkkkk,” I whined. I rubbed my eyes in frustration.\r \n\r \n“What did you do by the way?” the demon remarked, peering over his clipboard.\r \n\r \n“What?”\r \n\r \n“Like, how did you try to fake your death?”\r \n\r \nI sighed. There wasn’t much else I could do other than accept my fate. I leaned down towards the demon and smiled. “It’s actually a pretty funny story. I was seeing this guy but his family hated me and my family really hated him. Like, our families might as well have been at war. But anyway, I bought some shit from this homeless dude that was supposed to make it look like I died-”\r \n\r \nThe demon flipped his notes back to the front and shoved his clipboard under his arm. “Okay, okay, okay, I’ve heard enough. Is your name Juliet by any chance?”\r \n\r \n“Yeah, well Jules actually, how’d you know?”\r \n\r \nThe demon nodded sagely and took my hand in his tiny claws. “Come on, I know where you’re going now. I’ll give you the grand tour.”",
"\\[Canta-decide-a\\]\n\n\"How the hell did I get here?\" The question repeated in Circi's mind as she wandered the landscape trying to establish where 'here' was. When she first opened her eyes in a new setting, her first thought was that she landed in Hell. A red sky blanketed jagged, imposing red mountains in the distance. Visually, it matched depictions of Hell she'd seen. Instead of the pungent stench of sulfur, it was refreshing peppermint that tickled her nose.\r \n \r \nShe chose a direction and started walking. Circi knew if she waited around for answers they might never come. She always assumed she'd end up in Hell after she passed on. Even at her young age, she'd made a lot of mistakes she wasn't proud of. She got the idea to fake her death from a movie and felt that it was the only way out.\r \n \r \nShe braved the guilt to attend her own funeral in secret; but, it only made her feel worse. She fled to the deepest, darkest corner of the church that she could find and as she huddled in pitch black, she knew she was going to Hell. Then, she opened her eyes and she was there.\r \n \r \nShe walked in one direction for what felt like hours. Thoughts and regrets replayed in her mind. She did not even consider trying to find a way out; she knew she could never go back. But, then, she spotted a patch of green in the distance. It stood out from the barren red dirt that covered the rest of the horizon. Circi moved in the direction and realized the smell of peppermint was growing stronger.\r \n \r \nShe reached the green area and she wasn't surprised to find a patch of peppermint. However, it did surprise her to see another person. Another girl with light green hair. She looked to be about Circi's age; but, her eyes were closed as if she was meditating. After a moment she opened her eyes and looked up at Circi with a smile.\r \n \r \n\"You look lost,\" she said. Circi nodded.\r \n \r \n\"Is this Hell?\" she asked. It was the quickest way to find out if she could escape. If it wasn't Hell, she still had a chance. Unfortunately, the girl nodded. She also rose from the ground and extended her hand.\r \n \r \n\"I'm Canta,\" she said.\r \n \r \n\"Circi...,\" she said with a heavy tone.\r \n \r \n\"Do you not want to be here?\" Canta asked. Circi smiled and let out a small laugh; her first in years.\r \n \r \n\"Who wants to be in Hell?\" she asked.\r \n \r \n\"I mean, the shopping district is pretty amazing,\" Canta shrugged. \"So.. then why are you here?\" Canta asked.\r \n \r \n\"I belong here...,\" Circi shrugged. Canta laughed and shook her head.\r \n \r \n\"Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?\" she asked. \"Fortunately, the decision of where you belong is out of your hands,\" Canta said.\r \n \r \n\"But...I'm *here*,\" she said. Canta nodded.\r \n \r \n\"I am too. We're both alive, by the way.\" Circi narrowed her eyes.\r \n \r \n\"You...want to be in Hell?\"\r \n \r \n\"Yeah, it's been my home for some years now,\" Canta replied. Circi shook her head.\r \n \r \n\"But it's HELL,\" she said. \"Fire and brimstone and eternal torture.....,\"\r \n \r \n\"Eeeeeh,\" Canta shrugged. \"It just depends what package you signed up for. But, it doesn't apply to the living.\"\r \n \r \n\"If that was true, then why am I here?\" Circi asked. Canta giggled.\r \n \r \n\"You did that on your own; you can leave any time.\" A look of confusion spread across Circi's face. She was about to argue; but, Canta spoke up again.\r \n \r \n\"OOoooh, you don't know what you are,\" she said.\r \n \r \n\"What?\" Circi asked. \"I'm a demon or something?\"\r \n \r \n\"Or something,\" Canta nodded. \"You are Unique Soul #35, La Estrella. You can go to any reality you want,\" she said.\r \n \r \n\"As comfortable as you may be..,\" Circi shook her head. \"I definitely did NOT want to come here.\"\r \n \r \n\"Well, you sure thought about it a lot,\" Canta said. \"Probably too much. La Estrella..,\" Canta pointed at Circi to remind her what she was. \"...can Traverse to alternate realities. The thing is, it's not like fast travel in a game..... you've played video games, right?\" Canta asked. Circi nodded.\r \n \r \n\"Right, so it doesn't work like fast travel. There are infinite universes out there, it'd be impossible to aim for a specific one. Estrellas Traverse on feelings. You give the universe an idea where you want to go; and, the universe decides where to put you. Most of the time it matches up, but it takes some practice.\"\r \n \r \n\"You're making that up...,\" Circi said with a shake of her head. \"This is Hell and you're trying to trick me.\" Canta shrugged.\r \n \r \n\"If that's how you see things, then that's how you see things. Either way, I have to get to work,\" Canta waved with a smile. \"So, good luck,\" she turned and walked away.\r \n \r \nCirci watched the green-haired girl walk away through the peppermint. The further she went, the more a feeling nagged at the back of her neck. What if she was wrong? What if she could go anywhere she wanted to?\r \n \r \n\"Wait!\" Circi called out. Canta stopped and turned around.\r \n \r \n\"Yes?\" Circi hesitated for a moment, but she found her question.\r \n \r \n\"Will you help me?\" she asked.\r \n \r \n\"For sure,\" Canta nodded, then headed back towards Circi. \"Let's get you home.\" Circi shook her head and took a step back from the idea.\r \n \r \n\"No!\" she said. \"I can't go back there...\"\r \n \r \n\"Why not?\" Canta asked.\r \n \r \n\"I...hurt people... I faked my own death...,\"\r \n \r \n\"But... you're not dead....\" Canta tilted her head. \"They'd probably like to know that.\" Circi shook her head again.\r \n \r \n\"They hate me...,\" she said. Canta closed the gap between them and put a hand on her shoulder.\r \n \r \n\"Remember when I said that where you belong isn't up to you?\" she asked. Circi nodded. She wasn't ready when Canta brought her hand up and flicked a finger against her forehead.\r \n \r \n\"Stop deciding things for other people.\"\r \n \r \n\"Owwww,\" Circi rubbed her forehead.\r \n \r \n\"You asked for help, you're going to get it. No turning back now,\" Canta smiled. \"Here's what's going to happen. First, you're going to learn a few things about the universe; that 'll really put things in perspective for you. Then, you're going to go home and apologize. THEN, you're coming to school with me,\" she said. \"Ready for all that?\" Canta asked. Circi shook her head.\r \n \r \n\"Too bad,\" Canta laughed and grabbed her hand to lead her away. \"It's already decided.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\\*\\*\\*\r \nThank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1329 in a row. (Story #237 in year four.). If it feels out of context, this is part of the Satchat Summer Challenge. I'm writing 77 connected stories in a row. You can start at the beginning at [this link](https://www.reddit.com/r/Hugoverse/comments/oqt1fa/stellar_tour_satchat_summer_challenge/) on my subreddit (r/hugoverse)."
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[WP] hypothetically if there were or is an afterlife, design what you would envision as the perfect afterlife/heaven for you.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\\[Hellish Notions\\]\n\n\"Are those houses?\" Circi followed Canta across the red dirt plain for about 10 minutes before she noticed a subdivision on the horizon. Canta nodded and continued to walk towards them.\r \n \r \n\"I'm not the only one living here,\" Canta replied. Circi was about to argue that no one wanted to live in Hell again; but, she realized something as she kept up with Canta. She wasn't sweating; it actually felt like a cool day that matched Autumn on the Earth she left behind. She knew she was in Hell as soon as she arrived, and Canta confirmed it. But, it wasn't anything like the Hell she feared growing up.\r \n \r \n\"But... this is Hell, right?\" Circi asked. \"Demons, Satan, eternal torment, all that?\" Canta shrugged while they walked.\r \n \r \n\"Sure. If that's all you focus on, there's plenty of that here; but, again. It doesn't apply to the living. Hell is a place like any other; it just happens to be where a lot of people end up after they die.\"\r \n \r \n\"So, Satan is real?\" Circi asked. Canta nodded, then shook her head.\r \n \r \n\"Satan, the ruler of Hell, is a job title. It's a management position,\" Canta said. \"And it's currently filled. Do you want to meet her?\"\r \n \r \n\"NO WAY!\" Circi shook her head. Canta immediately stopped walking. She sighed and turned to face Circi.\r \n \r \n\"All these preconceived notions are kind of annoying,\" she said. \"Let's just get rid of those all at once. From here on out, just pretend you don't know anything about anything.\"\r \n \r \n\"But... .THE DEVIL!\" Circi blurted. Canta laughed.\r \n \r \n\"See? You're already wrong. Satan is the ruler of Hell. Devils are like regional managers; it's a big place.” Canta said. “Okay, look. What do you think Hell is?\" \r \n \r \n\"Bad people go to Hell to be tortured for eternity...\"\r \n \r \n\"'*Bad*' is kind of vague. The only people that go to Hell in the multiverse are the ones that signed up for it. Usually by selling their soul.\"\r \n \r \n\"So,.. everyone else goes to Heaven?\" Canta shook her head, then turned around to keep walking. The houses were close enough now that Circi could see colors and details. It resembled the idyllic neighborhoods she'd seen in old movies, including people watering their lawns and kids on bikes.\r \n \r \n\"There is no Heaven,\" Canta said.\r \n \r \n\"Then, what happens?\"\r \n \r \n\"Mundo explains it better than I can,\" Canta said. \"But the point is... you're what happens. Unique Souls. You don't remember all your other lives; but you lived millions of lives before you became a Unique. Remember when I said you don't have any Zeros?\" she asked. Circi nodded. It wasn't too long ago that Canta explained the difference between Unique Souls and Zeros.\r \n \r \n\"All those Zeros are the same soul getting experience; you barely blinked when you found out you were in Hell,\" Canta said. \"Whether you thought you belonged here or not... deep down you knew Hell was real.\" They reached the neighborhood and Canta led Circi along a sidewalk towards what she guessed was the center of town. When she had asked where they were headed the only answer she got was \"Mundo's\". \"Once you get enough points you can cash them out to be a Unique Soul, or other perks. You can be Fae, or Super, anything you want; all those things exist in the multiverse. And, they're all technically human souls.\"\r \n \r \n\"So... what happens if I die now?\"\r \n \r \n\"It depends on a few different things; but, in your case that's probably the end of the ride,\" Canta said. She turned right at an intersection and Circi saw a large green mansion at the end of a cul-de-sac.\r \n \r \n\"In my case? What about other Uniques?\" Canta shrugged.\r \n \r \n\"If a Unique Soul dies naturally, they have a chance at being reborn in a new body with the same memories. But...you're a Celestial Unique, so you actually can't die naturally. Whoever kills you gets your soul.\" They reached an imposing gate that seemed to be formed from living trees. It slid open as Canta and Circi approached it.\r \n \r \nCirci decided to hold on to the rest of her questions because it sounded like Mundo would give her all the answers she needed. She followed Canta through the gate and up to a tall green door. Circi paused, expecting Canta to knock; but, she walked in as if it were her own home. Then, Circi remembered Canta lived in Hell.\r \n \r \n\"PEPPERMINT!\" she yelled as soon as they entered the house. A tall, lean man in a green suit walked into view in the living room. He had a neatly trimmed white beard and perfectly parted white hair. However, it was his right eye that caught all of Circi's attention. Instead of an eyeball he appeared to have a glass eye that was painted like an Earth. It was rotated in his eye socket. A 37 was tattooed on his cheek right under the Earth eye.\r \n \r \n\"I heard you invite her at the patch; you don't have to yell in the same house,\" he said with a chuckle.\r \n \r \n\"Well, you could have said something; I didn't know if you were here or not,\" she replied. He shrugged and nodded, then turned his eyes to Circi.\r \n \r \n\"Hola, Estrella. Are you ready to learn how the universe works?\" he asked. Circi nodded.\r \n \r \n\"If you don't mind...,\" a new voice said. Canta looked deeper into the living room and saw another tall man. He wore his golden beard and hair like a lion's mane and there was a group of six kids behind him; three boys and three girls. The living room was large, but seven more people definitely crowded it. \"...my team could use a talking to while you're at it.\"\n\n\r \n\\*\\*\\* \nThank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1330 in a row. (Story #238 in year four.). If it feels out of context, this is part of the Satchat Summer Challenge. I'm writing 77 connected stories in a row. You can start at the beginning at [this link](https://www.reddit.com/r/Hugoverse/comments/oqt1fa/stellar_tour_satchat_summer_challenge/) on my subreddit (r/hugoverse)."
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[WP] As a half dragon, you are technically a protected species.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"*I got some pretty chaotic vibes from the prompt, so here's a half dragon with a centuries old grudge against humanity.*\n\n\"Rah,\" I mock-roar at the officers glaring at me from a corner of the precinct. Bull and Dull I like to call them. How they managed to land employment at this place remains a mystery to this day. It certainly couldn't have been their personalities. Or lack of, rather. It was a good thing they only ever worked desk jobs because that meant I only ever had to see their sneering faces when coming by to visit- or perhaps being brought in would be a better way to word it.\n\n\"Next!\" a monotonous voice calls. The officer by my side steps forward, almost dragging me along as we approach the window. Familiar overworked eyes take a quick glance at me and sigh before picking up the phone. Her voice is muffled behind the still shut glass. She waves us off to the side moments later. \n\n\"What are you doing back here again, young lady?\" an audibly irritated voice questions from behind. Great. My favorite captain. \n\nMy apparent guide for the evening straightens at the new presence. \"We brought her in for disorderly conduct, m'am. She was picking a fight out on 7th.\" \n\n\"Again? Why am I not-\"\n\nI don't give her the opportunity to finish that remark. \"Your officers are in violation with the Protected Species act. I'm here to file a complaint.\" \n\nSurprisingly the captain doesn't look very impressed. \"Oh?\" she raises her annoyingly well-kept eyebrows. \"And pray tell what did they do this time?\" \n\nThe toothy smile I give her seem to do the trick, but for extra measure I give her the full view of two rows of needle-sharp teeth. \"Look, ahh-\" There's a light 'cling' as one of them fall to the floor.\n\n\"One of your men did that. Just straight up tackled me to the ground!\"\n\n\"M'am. She was about to breathe fire at him-\"\n\nI snort. \"There's no fire dragon in my DNA, Sherlock.\" \n\n\"Enough.\" A quick look at the captain reveals all the stress and irritation she usually manages to hide at least somewhat well. Must have been a tough night.\n\nLuckily enough we don't get to continue our banter as the doors to the precinct are pushed open and my handler– I've got one of those now since the introduction of the government's new species act– comes strolling up to us. He's dressed as impeccably as always. A subtle nod comes my way with a promise that we're going to discuss this incident later. Go figure.\n\n\"Good evening, Captain. I've brought all the necessary paperwork for my charge here,\" he greets her and produces a familiar folder from a satchel. It's still impressive that there's so many papers in my name alone.\n\nThe officer, still with a firm grip around my arm, leads me back to the waiting area where he promptly dumps me and walks off, seemingly elated to be off the case. Unfortunately that means I'm left alone with Dull and Bull who casually stroll up to my seat as if they have nothing better to do. \n\n\"Looks like the lizard's back again. Didn't find a terrarium to your taste, did you?\"\n\nI flash a toothy grin at the two, fighting down the instinct to show exactly what said teeth can do. \"How could I? My two favorite little pieces of treasure are right here! Don't you know a dragon never abandons it's hoard?\" \n\nDull and Bull look at each other and for a moment I think they're so overwhelmed by my heartwarming sentiment that they're going to faint. Sadly, they don't.\n\n\"And here we thought the only thing you hoarded were dents in your record.\"\n\nClassy. \"No, no. I only seem to hoard rude little humans who don't know when to keep their dull mouths shut.\" \n\nBull scowls, apparently not appreciating the description of them. \"Shame there's no unemployed knights roaming around these parts anymore. Got a nice job for them right here.\"\n\nA hand on my shoulder is all that keeps me from jumping up from the chair and giving them a reason why those knights are no longer around. Mark, the government handler tentatively leads me outside. \"Remember, they can't do anything. There's a reason why you're in the Protected act.\"\n\nI glare back at the precinct entrance. Maybe I should do some deeper digging into my heritage, find some long forgotten trace of fire dragon. There were two people in my mind that deserved much more than just a verbal roasting. \"I don't need protection,\" I hiss back.\n\n\"I know you may not feel that way-\"\n\n\"Do you know who could have used some protecting? My mother, about three hundred and fifty years back. From the knights those two doofuses get all puppy-eyed about.\"\n\nMark doesn't respond, and I'm left to imagine a fiery revenge."
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[WP] Two narrators are writing a single story together by trading off each sentence, but they disagree on where the story is supposed to go.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Long ago, in the distant land of Tameloc, a young peasant boy lived amongst the fields and forests surrounding his family's farm.\n\n\n*The lad's name was Thomas. Thomas was a clumsy young man - Weak, insufferable. He often stayed far out in the woods until dark, for he hated his life.*\n\n\nOn one of these gloomy evenings, he was - *Caught by a pack of bloodthirsty wolves. He cried, for nobody heard him.*\n\n\nExcept for a fiery young woman named Elaine, who happened to be nearby. She fought back the dire wolves with talent and grace, for she was an expert swordsman- *Burdened with the knowledge that she would never be able to save everyone.*\n\n...But Elaine fought valiantly regardless, saving Thomas's life. The wolves fled or bled under her blade. Thomas thanked Elaine, who introduced herself as a Knight of Ardamane, a- *Zealous order of knights and paladins who wish to cleanse the world of 'imperfection'. The Knights were notorious for their ritualistic executions - Thomas's father was one of their victims.*\n\n...\n\n\n...\n\n\n*\"...It's your turn.\"*\n\n\n...Elaine was ashamed of her order - And the kingdom as a whole. She asked if Thomas would accompany her back to her home, where she might teach him how to- *Fight! But Thomas, the frail young man that he was, could hardly lift the scythe he used when farming, and declined, ashamed of his own-*\n\n\n\"Dude!\"\n\n*\"What?\"*\n\n\"What do you think you're doing?\"\n\n*\"...Uh, writing a story with you? What's the matter?\"*\n\n\"You keep cutting in while I'm typing! You're not letting me finish my turns!\"\n\n*\"...Oh, sorry. I'll be more careful.\"*\n\n\"...Ugh, whatever. And hey, can you stop... Like, killing the story? What the hell is this? Not everything needs a tragic backstory man!\"\n\n*\"What?! Of course it does! How else do you make it interesting?! You need bad things to happen to your characters!!\"*\n\n\"...That's not what I said! I said you don't need a tragic BACKSTORY. You can make the story ITSELF tragic without going back and adding a bunch of boring history lessons. Like... Look, we're trying to set up this girl as his love interest, right? We kill her off later, once they've become friends, and Thomas gets some HUGE character motivation!\"\n\n\n*\"...I don't follow.\"*\n\n\"...We don't talk ABOUT the trauma. We SHOW it. We show what it does to our character. How he copes with it, whether or not he recovers, et cetera. We can milk a whole chapter off of just him crying that his one friend in life is gone, and he has no idea what to do but carry on her legacy or something. It's way more interesting than just saying 'oh yeah look my parents are dead'.\"\n\n*\"...Are both his parents dead?\"*\n\n\"Nah. But hers can be.\""
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[WP] The General's Curse. You send good men out to fight, for a cause you understand as well as they do. You would be out there on the battlefield, alongside them, and yet you are trapped behind lines, in restrictive safety. And at the end, their blood is on your hands.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Brigadier General Williams groaned as he rubbed his eyes.\n\nHe had been staring at this particular map for the last 4 hours, finalizing a plan for the three battalions under his command to hold his assigned area of \"strategic importance.\" \n\nThree battalions, nearly 3,000 men under his care, and that did not even factor in the supporting armor, artillery, and various other troops which once added brought the total to nearly 5,000 men. \n\n5,000. When his first command as a young man...no a young boy, had been 5. Five of the greatest men he had ever known, his brothers in arms. \n\nIronically, 5 was also the number of wars he had fought, if you counted this one. \n\nIn his first, he had been a fresh faced recruit, put in command of a fireteam.\n\nIn his second, he had been a Lieutenant fresh out of officer school, in command of a platoon of 50.\n\nHis third had been the only war he knew what he was fighting for, if only just, when he had picked his comrades and family in the civil war that had torn his country apart. It was also the last war he could remember spending more time on the front than behind the lines. \n\nHis fourth had ended with him a Colonel, making a stand with an understrength battalion, holding the Capital, and gaining the attention of his countries leaders.\n\nHis fifth had started over something he, even as a general, still did not quite understand. All he knew was that he was now in command of a major part of his countries military, and he hated it.\n\nHe missed the days when he could personally observe the situation at the front, missed the time spend in the foxholes with his comrades (though he did not miss the foxholes and mud), and missed even the boredom of the life of a soldier. \n\nHe understood of course, that someone needed to be in charge, that someone needed to take the chess pieces and move them around the board. \n\nHe understood that spending significant time on the front would be a mistake, if he got killed by a sniper or artillery, the effect would be devastating for many reasons. That did not mean he did not wish too remain close to his men, and this choice was reflected in his current residence, specifically a mostly intact townhouse a mile behind the lines. \n\nHe shook these thoughts from the his as the door to the small room opened, and his aide entered. \"Casualty report from 1st Battalion General, they made contact with a large enemy force in the southern valley, and pushed them off with minor casualties,\" she announced, laying several pieces of paper on his nearby desk. \n\nHis logical side was exceedingly happy at this news, with enemy forces pushed out of the valley, 1st Battalion would be able to set up a defensive position, solidifying that portion of the line for the time being. \n\nThe other side dreaded what he aide's final word had been. Casualties.\n\nIt meant men under his command were dead or wounded. He had seen deaths in all it forms, both up close, both by his hands and by his enemies, and more recently in the impersonal world of numbers and planning. He knew that men died in war of course, but that never made it any easier. \n\nHis aide lay some final papers on the desk, and he dismissed her, sitting down at the desk. Pouring over the casualty list, he noted the names on the list, then pulled out a small box with a special pen and papers. The blood of these men and women were in his hands and he would do as much as he could for them that he could here.\n\nHe studied the name of the first man, Private Ernst Smith, and began to write...\n\n\"Mister and Missus Smith, I regret to inform you that your son...\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\\~\\~\\~\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWell this is my first ever post anywhere for anything I've written, so any comments are welcome. Hope you all enjoy my first foray into public writing."
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[WP] The hero's hometown was prepared for the demonic invasion, so it survived countless waves of demonic attacks. Then the other humans joined in to burn down the town to fulfill the prophesy and failed. Now, the legendary fortress is holding off humans, gods, demons, and whatever else may come.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The young boy felt a hand in the small of his back push him forward.\n\nThis broke him from his daze. For the past hour he had been silent, staring in wonder at the towering black walls that filled his sight. The azure sky above, verdant grass below, the white cobblestone road he lined up on with his grandfather as straight as a sword cut. The road led to a gateway that was fully the height of ten men. From where he stood, the boy could not see clearly the towering Mithril gates, but he knew of their grandeur. Inlaid with gold and precious jewels in the form of a metal tapestry, they carried the tale of the legend behind the Bastion.\n\nThe boy turned to his grandfather, a weary smile etched into his weathered face as his thin arms urged the boy forward. There were only a couple of carts ahead of them in the line to enter the Bastion. As he inched forward, the black walls revealed scars of the battles that established the bastion's legend. Once known only for being the Savior's home village, the city was now the capital of a massive empire, spanning three continents. Countless enemies were buried beneath the lush grass that carpeted its exterior, their sole memory etched forever into those walls. The most glaring lay a few yards to the left of the gateway. A patch of wall glinted in the sunlight, in stark contrast to the rest that drank it in. It seemed almost like glass, with a smooth texture. The boy knew what it was, of course. Not even the True Dragon Anoraxxus had made it past.\n\nA few moments later, the boy found himself looking up at a soldier covered in shining steel armor. He wore a surcoat emblazoned with a snarling golden dragon. He carried a spear in his right hand, with a basinet tucked under the other. Piercing blue eyes below locks of blond hair looked down at him.\n\nThe boy heard his grandfather speak in his quiet, tired voice.\n\n\"Sir, we've travelled here from the Green Cove village in Alania. The Godsons have broken through the Southern defense lines. They killed almost everyone. We had to escape. My grandson and I have nowhere else to go.\"\n\nThe boy watched as his grandfather's knees trembled, before he fell to the floor in a kowtow. Unsure of what to do, the boy fell to his knees as well.\n\n\"Please, my Lord! In the Saviour's name, take us in!\"\n\nThe boy copied his grandfather and pressed his forehead into the hot stone of the road.\n\n\"The Godsons you say. Pesky creatures. I guess two centuries is enough for them to forget how they were culled under my master's blade.\" A voice full of vigour spoke. \n\nThe boy could only see the steel toecaps in his vision. His heart filled heat as he heard the disdain towards the creatures that had slaughtered his village. He promised himself that one day he too would look down on his enemies.\n\n\"What do you offer? Are you a craftsman? You are surely not a warrior, and your ward looks too young to be one as well. The Bastion has no space for deserters of no value. \"\n\nThe next words the boy heard doused the flame in his heart. He felt a pressure weigh him down. He gasped for air. His chest tightened. He heard a soft groan from his side. He struggled to turn his head, only to see his grandfather pressed into the ground, a thin trickle of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth.\n\n\"My grandfather was a farmer, but he's too old to work the fields anymore. I'm only eight this summer, but give me a few years and I'll enlist. I'm willing to die for the glory of the Saviour!\" The boy's young voice shouted out. He felt hot tears in the corner of his eyes. \n\nThe boy got no reply for a long moment, before he heard a derisive snort.\n\n\"If the Bastion took in everyone who came here begging for its protection and making promises of service, it would have fallen years ago. Your news about the Godson's is noted. If you still wish to enter the Bastion, you may serve a ten year term in the Mithril mines after which you may become eligible for entry. Otherwise, clear the road, you're holding up the traffic.\"\n\nThe soldier turned away without waiting for an answer. The pressure on the boy vanished. He staggered to his feet, grabbing at his chest. After taking a couple of deep breaths he hurried to help his grandfather up. The old man looked dazed, his breathing shallow. The boy threw his grandfather's arm over his shoulder and carried him off to the side of the road. No one bothered looking at the duo. This was nothing out of the ordinary after all. Living in the Bastion was a privilege to be earned.\n\nThe boy looked back at the Bastion as he stumbled away. Past the walls, he could see towering spires and flashes of brilliant blue energy. The proud white banners and snarling golden dragons fluttered in the wind, apathetic. The white scars on the walls seemed to mock the boy's cowardice in leaving without a fight. The boy clenched his fist. He swore then to return one day.\n\nThat day would not come for another hundred years, but when it did, the black walls were turned crimson before they were shattered.\n\n\\--- Excerpt from \"The Biography of Avighna the Suntamer, Lord of the Evershine Grove, Wallbreaker\"",
"The original name of this place has long been forgotten. Eons ago the fighting began to end the universe and wipe the slate clean of all mortal beings. We don't know where it started but we know it all ends with us. The Citadel at the end of time. We have fought for uncountable years, seen unfathomable loss. At first it was the Demons and we faired well against them very well repelling every probing attack and new assault. Words of the Demon hordes failure spread across the universe. Reaching the ears of Devil's and gods alike. If one could take the Last Citadel they would prove themselves the most powerful being in the universe.\nAnd so they came in their many shapes and sizes. All claiming to be the one true God. We repelled and erased them from existence. Countless \"gods\" flung themselves at our gates, writhing and dying as they lashed against the inevitable. We stand as we always stood. For the light of each other, our children, and those many generations yet to come. \n The wall is battered and bruised, yet still stands. It has been quiet for far too long. We hear rumbling of the \"gods\" that are left planning and scheming. The greatest attack is yet to come. The darkest clouds in memory have been gathering on the horizon. Let them come. We will prevail as we always have. Free as mortal beings from the chains of any \"god\". Let them come."
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[WP] Your nice got bitten by a capybara at the petting zoo. She is now a were-capybara. This is actually a wholesome situation with no downsides.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Don’t come in!!”\n\nI try to jostle the door, making sure that it is indeed locked. She knows darn well that we don't lock doors in this house. I sigh to myself, anticipating that I have to be the big meanie parent again. \n\n\" Sweetheart, you know the rules. We don't lock the doors, you can close them but....\"\n\n Just as I was giving my spiel of parental jargon, a tiny squeaking noise came from the room. Followed by a sniffle, a rebellious yell landed on the door, giving it a slight vibration. \" Leave me alone, ughhhh..... Just go!\" \n\n\" Sweetie, does your hand still hurt from that thing at the zoo? Do you need some tylenol?...... sweetie?.....\" I waited a while for her to answer. I mean, I respect her privacy but I'm not going to stand for blatant teenage antagonism. I knocked twice to let her know that I was still awaiting an answer from her. \n\n\" Pleaseuh!!, just go ugh!\" As she let out her last yell of frustration, I heard loud tears coming through. Her voice was shaky, and for some reason it was squeaky. I can’t allow her to just try to battle this alone. I'm gonna bust this door down. \n\nThis is really gonna hurt. \n\n\" Addelaine, I’m coming in. I will bust this door down if I have to!\" No response, not even a squeak\n\n \" Okay, stand away from the door.......ahhhh!\"\n\n Just as my shoulder flew into the door and tried to break it down, I was surprised to find there was no force against my body. I opened my eyes midway through the door tackle to find that my niece had opened the door right as a tried to slam into it. My body's momentum sent me falling forward into her room and only the floor caught my fall. \n\n\" Uncle Don!\" I heard her say, higher than normal \n\n\" ehhhhhuu\" I didn't formulate words, at first. I tried to stand up. As I did, I caught a glimpse of Addelaine and fell right back on the floor.\n\n \"What happened?\" I asked, searching for a reason, maybe its makeup, and it wont come off? Yeah, that's a possibility. Maybe I just hit my head really hard. Clearly I did, because my niece was the spitting image of a furry teenage capybara with neat whiskers and brown fur lining her face. \"Addelaine?\"\n\n \" Are you OK, Uncle Don?\" \n\n\" Yeah, yeah, I’m fine\" I said as I stood on my feet, keeping a confused eye on her.\n\n \"Are YOU okay?\" I said, emphasizing how worried I was.\n\n \" yeah....\" There was a long pause, that kind that begs to be filled with questions and answers. She didn't make eye contact with me, although I knew that her eyes were a shade of yellow now. She just shuffled back to her bed and slouched. I can imagine that's where she had been most of the day, today. My shoulders dropped, and I instinctively say next to her. \n\n\" What’s wrong button? You're worrying me, you know? What’s all this makeup stuff?\" I gesture towards her sharp whiskers. \n\n\" Well, Uncle Don.... This is just apart of my life now.... so, yeah. It’s just hard beca...\"\n\n I put a hand up and closed my eyes to signal to her that its all I needed to know. \" \n\nYou know sweetheart, I'm gonna be there for you no matter what you do.... I don't care what you look like... or what makeup you use\"\n\n Addelaine sat there looking a touch confused, but relieved.\n\n \" Thanks, Uncle Don. I just wanted didn't want people to freak out, you know?\"\n\n I had the perfect wisdom for this situation, and my brother would be proud if he heard it.\n\n \" Addy, if they freak out, then they never cared about you anyway\"\n\n I could tell my words sank into her. I knew I told her what she needed to hear. I love her so much, It’s hard to watch her grow up and get into all these things and be worried about this and that. But hey, that makeup was really convincing, she could definitely go far with that. I kissed her furry forehead, fighting back the temptation not to spittle the little hairs on my lips. \n\n\" Don't stress about it, you got plenty of time to figure it out... by the way, were cleaning tomorrow, it smells like a zoo in here..\""
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[WP] You and a few friends visit MIT to check out a new piece of technology: a machine that scans your brain and reveals your inner most desire on a hologram. One friend has a hologram of a happy family, another of immense wealth, but when it’s your turn, you begin to hear gasps and screams…
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The audience laughs as Harry goes back to his seat beside me.\n\n\"Gee, Hare, pretty crazy how you wanna be rich. I can't think of a single person in this crowd who'd desire that!\" I say with every ounce of sarcasm I can muster.\n\n\"I'm a simple man with simple dreams\" Harry shrugs, \"You're up next, let's see how creative YOU can get\".\n\nIt was so real, the image of Harry driving luxury cars and living in lavish penthouses. It was a hologram but it looked so vivid, so detailed.\n\nMarvin walks up to the podium with a proud smirk on his face. I can't believe he made this thing. I mean we knew he was smart, but how can you create something that taps into your subconscious like this? Your deepest desires on projection for the whole world to see, it's incredible.\n\nGrowing up, he was always the one with the best grades, and because of that, our mom would always buy him the best toys, then the best video games, then the best car, but he was always nice enough to share with me. I never really had anything of my own, anything all to myself. I never resented him for it, in fact I'm so proud of what he's accomplished.\n\nHe clears his throat and leans over to the microphone, \"Everyone give it up for Harry the future Jeff Bezos!\"\n\nThe audience laughs and applauds again.\n\n\"Now I'd like to welcome a man of my own flash and blood, my baby brother, Kevin Beck\".\n\nI wave at the audience and sit in the chair in the center of the stage. On either side of me are two large projector boxes that connect in an arch over my head. In the center of the arch is the visor, which is kinda like a VR headset, but it covers your eyes and reads your inner most thoughts....it's a loose comparison.\n\nMarvin and one other scientist lower the headset until my vision is completely blocked. Blocking your site helps the machine visualize your thoughts or something. I tend to space out whenever Marv talks about this stuff.\n\nI hear Marvin and the other scientist circle around me as they adjust the machine. Marv asks if I'm ready, and I say \"As I'll ever be\".\n\nI wasn't ready. Nobody was ready.\n\nI hear the machines whirl as the hum of the hologram projectors cause my chair to lightly vibrate. It was actually quite relaxing.\n\nMarvin begins to narrate, \"Well alright here you are....eating breakfast....now your going to work....Kevin this is kinda lame\".\n\nThe audience laughs. An easy crowd to please.\n\nSince I can't see anything I ask \"Am I a CEO or something?\" I ask, curious what my brain was projecting.\n\nI can hear Marv circle the hologram across the stage \"Nope. It's your same job, and this is definitely our apartment. I can tell because of the week old bread on your counter\".\n\nThe audience laughs again. Like a dog drooling at the sound of a bell.\n\n\"Now it's showing the two of us playing Catan with some of our other friends.....I mean if you're happy the way life is going, man, that's great, but we were kinda hoping for more, here\".\n\nThe audience laughs.\n\nI shrug, not really knowing what else they expected. I'm usually pretty content with things. I wouldn't be surprised if even my deepest darkest desires were for nothing to change at all.\n\n\"Oh here's something, Kev, you're in the woods. Looks like you're on a hike or something\" Marv says.\n\n\"Hiking? I've never been hiking before in my life\".\n\n\"Ya we can tell; you're wearing jeans and a hoodie in the projection!\"\n\nThe audience laughs.\n\nI have absolutely no desire to go hiking. Nature isn't really my thing, neither is physical activity.\n\nMarv silences the chatty crowd, \"Hang on your going toward something. You look pleased with yourself\".\n\nRelying solely on Marvin's narration was making it hard to understand what the image was showing. My mind was wandering, trying to figure out what my mind could want in the woods.\n\nThen it hits me.\n\nI try to take off the visor but I can't unhook the straps. I'm choking myself trying to force it off of my head.\n\n\"Get it off me, Marv! Stop the projection!\"\n\nThe audience is finally silent.\n\nI can hear the other scientist trying to shut the machine off, but he can't do it without Marvin, who is currently standing at the edge of the stage watching his creation reveal my inner most thoughts.\n\nThe audience screams.\n\n\"Kevin....what the fuck is this?!\" Marvin yells as he grabs me by the shoulders.\n\nMy eyes are covered, but I know exactly what they're seeing.\n\nMarvin unhooks the visor and throws me out of the chair. As I hit the stage floor I can hear the audience screaming. I hear the doors at the other end of the auditorium hit the walls as people force them open to escape the horror.\n\nI look up at the hologram floating above me. It's frozen on a single image.\n\nIt's a girl, leaning against the wall of a cave. Her wrists chained to the floor. Rats and bugs have been eating away at her, and based on her current state of decay, she hasn't been alive for quite some time.\n\nMarvin rushes over to me and pins me to the ground. Tears streaming down his face. \"What kind of a sick fuck wants something like this!?\"\n\nI shake my head, \"Marv, all I wanted was something of my own. This cave, what was inside it, I didn't want any of it in particular. It would be MINE, that's what mattered\".\n\nMarvin slaps me across the face and yells \"What are you talking about!? Why did it show up on my machine!? Why did it think this was your deepest desire!?'\n\nI rest my hand against his face and say \"This was the only way it could present it. I didn't want the cave or the girl\".\n\nAs the projection finally shuts off and the room goes dark, I clarify;\n\n\"My only desire was that nobody else would find her\""
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[WP] You are stunned to learn that you were adopted. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" you cried. "Frankly, honey, we thought it was obvious. You don't hunger for blood, you can't turn into a bat, and you don't need sunblock to go outside during the day."
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"\"How was I to know that meant I was h- *splutters* a hu-\" I couldn't bear to say it. \"Not a vampire?\"\nMaybe I just needed to to do something to get my bat powers. Hang on- you told me you had to go to the Archiledia of Ardwik! To sit in the lake, and if a fish bites my right big toe, then I get the powers!\"\n\n\"We're sorry, honey.\" My mother said. I knew she meant it, but I was still in despair for me to realise.\nThey still... raised me. Even though they didn't give birth to me, they are still my family. I guess I should be happy that my mom only had to give birth 3 times. My brother, Vix, And my two little sisters (twins( Vera and Vivian) \n\n\"Me and your father were going to tell you as soon you could speak, but, after that railroad incident, he, doesn't really know that he's alive. I found it much harder to tell you without him, and I know you certainly wouldn't have wanted to hear that at that time, but know I feel we've made peace with it, you know? I just feel bad he has to stay like that for whole of eternity.\"\n\nWoah. That was actually quite moving. \"Who was my birth mother?\" I ask.\n\n\"She was a doctor. Most prestigious in Chicago. Now, of course, we're in Edinburgh, as she was on a business trip for nine months, and as soon as she got her she had a little... fiesta... with a man. Just as she was about to leave, she ended up giving birth! Quite lucky as she would have to pay a lot if she'd had it in America. Anyway, she can't just go back to Chicago with a baby, so she kind of left you in a birds nest, because although she is a doctor, she is still one picnic short of a sandwich. She thought the birds would raise you. We heard you crying to rushed in to help. We followed the sound and Vix climbed up the tree and threw you down to me. There was a note, on your chest, which said 'raise me please birdies' and I gave you a hug.\"\n\n\"But birds can't read?\" I questioned my birth mother's antics.\n\n\"Well.. yes.\" My mother replied, \"like I said, she wasn't very bright. Anyway, we raised you and brought you up. You're welcome, by the way.\n\nThis was a lot to take in. \"Wait...\" an idea had sparked up in my head, and I knew I couldn't forget it \"If my birth mother is a doctor.. maybe she could help father!\"\n\nMy mother grimaced at the idea. \"She's all the way in Chicago! Plus, you aren't even registered as a human. No one but us knows you're alive\"\n\n\"Which is why it's even easier!\"\n\n\"Look, it's NOT HAPPENING\"\n\n\"No, you look. You aren't even my parents, you just found me in a tree, so yes. It is happening.\" After I said this, I noticed a tear in my mother's eye. I knew I'd gone too far. \"I'm sorry!\" I shouted \"I didn't mean that!\"\n\n\"It's okay,\" she replied. \"You can go to Chicago if you come up with plan. Of you go\"\n\nI took this opportunity to create the best plan there was! I sat in my room for hours, brainstorming. Edinburgh is quite far from Chicago, if you hadn't noticed, so this would be a struggle. \n\nNow I've told you everything that has happened so far today, here we are. I currently have been here... ah yes, 5 hours! And I've got nothing. Vix is quite handy, actually so maybe he could make a plane! Just a small one, though. For two people. Me and him. Me, because- well it's quite obvious isn't it? And Vix, because he made it, and if something happens he will need to fix it! I'll go ask him now!\n\n*Goes to Vix's room and knock on the door*\n\n\"Vix?\" I ask? \"Could you maybe build a plane that can fly us there a back from Chicago?\"\n\n\"Ah! I was hoping someone'd ask me about wanting a vehicle! I have already built quite a few! Been working on them for years, actually. Here's the boat, we don't need that, the car, the plane- Oh! The plane! Yes, here it is. I will need to fly it though, quite complicated, is that.\"\n\n\"Thank you so much, Vix! And hey, since we aren't siblings-\"\n\n\"Let me stop you right there!\"\n\n\"What? I was going to say, since we aren't siblings, I guess know we are friends! What were you think- OHHH! Vix!\"\n\n\"Anyway\" he carries on \"ready to leave now?\"\n\n\"Now?!\" I exclaim, \"You want to go now?!\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"Touché, brother. Touché.\"\n\nWe roll his plane to the Flitzground (A long road) and we get in. \n\n\"Got goggles?\" I ask\n\n\"Of course!\" \n\nHe hands me the goggles, and soon I find myself in the air, and now I am just realising my fear of heights! Oh well. After a few hours of this, we finally land. I don't know how he knows which state Chicago is, so, no harm in asking!\n\n\"Hey, Vix? How are sure that this is Chicago?\" I ask him.\n\n\"Borrowed Vivien's atlas\"\n\n\"Right, I see. Ok thanks!\"\n\nAs we step out of the plane, I see a sign that says, 'Chicago Doctor Place for Ill or Pregnant People'. I assume this is the correct place, so I walk towards it. \n\n\"Her name was Bethany, by the way? Said Vix.\n\n\"Eh?\" I reply.\n\n\"Your birth mother. Bethany Tonks. I assume you would like to know, correct?\"\n\n\"Yes, thank you!\" I'd totally forgotten about that! Her name! \n\nWe walk inside and I ask for Bethany Tonks. Vix is waiting outside, because, if anyone were to see him, it would mean bad news for us. Anyway, the receptionist looks at me, and raises one eyebrow. \n\n\"Who's asking?\" She questions me. I could really stir things up now, and just say 'her daughter' but I'll just say 'I have an appointment.\n\n\"Oh, uh, I have an appointment.\"\n\n\"Name?\" \n\nOh dear. I didn't think of this. I look behind the receptionist, and I see Vix stood there. He mist have snook in, as he knew this would happen. He is holding up a piece of paper with the name 'Jane McRock'. I assume this is the name I should answer the woman, so I confidently say \"Jane McRock. Sorry, looks like I zoned out a little there.\"\n\nShe tells me to take a seat in the waiting room, so I do.\n\nI turn around and see Vix waiting outside again. I hope the name he got me to say is next for their appointm- \n\"Jane McRock, Dr Tonks will see you now\" blasted through the speaker. I quickly get up and walk through the door, where my birth mother is waiting for me. I guess he picked the right name! Good on him! \n\nI slowly walk behind her, and we get into her room. As she closes the door I blurt out \"I'm your mom\" \n\n\"Eh? What do you mean dear?\"\n\nI messed up. \"You're my mom. I said it the wrong way round, but... hi mom\"\n\n\"You- you can't be! My child is with birds!\"\n\n\"Yeah, about that. I got taken in by some nice people.\"\n\n\"What about the birds?\"\n\n\"I don't think I can be raised by birds, sorry. But my family is nice. They are vampires!\"\n\n \"Vamp- Vampires?\" She looks quite pale, and sickly. \n\n\"Yes.\" I confirm. \"Vampires,\"\n\n\"Oh.\" \n\n\"And I really need your help! Today was the day I found out I was adopted, and that you are doctor, so could you please help my father! He is in dire need of it! He got crushed by a train, but he is immortal. He is unaware he is alive.\"\n\n\"I think I can help. Follow me, we'll take my private helicopter\"\n\n\"My brother is here too, he is waiting outside!\"\n\n\"We'll pick him up via ladder!\"\n\n\"Ok!\"\n\nWe go up the many many stairs in the building, and my birth mom just pulled out a key chain. It has around 50 odd keys on it! \n\n\"Don't worry!\" She says \"I know which one! 3... 2... 1...\" The door does not open.\n\n\"You said you knew!\"\n\n\"I do, I do! Wait, this one should work.\" She has her tongue out of the side of her mouth as she's concentrating. I do that too. Like birth mother like daughter, eh?!\n\nFinally, the door opens and in front of me, I see a nifty, red helicopter. \n\nWe both get in and we take off. \n\n\"But what about my brother's plane we used to get here?\"\n\n\"It will fit, never fear!\" My birth mother replies.\n\nWe pick Vix up into the helicopter, then we lower me down to grab the plane. \"Got it!\" I shout up, and I feel my self rising. After getting everything sorted, we fly to Edinburgh!\n\n\"Do you still live in Edinburgh or are you somewhere different now?\" My birth mother asks me. \n\n\"Still Edinburgh\" I reply. As we get closer, I tell her where to go, and where to land. We landed quite far away, so as not to disturb the vampires, we hop out of the helicopter and start to walk to where my father is. \n\nNow, we have arrived at our destination, and there he is, still sat in his chair. My birth mother is looking at him right now, and I think she's about to say something terrible.\n\n\"Uhhhh\" She says \"I don't think I can save him. I can stop his pain, though.\" \n\n\"Do that!\" I shout, maybe a bit too loudly. \n\n\"Ok! You might want to leave the room, though.\"\n\nVix and I step outside, and watch through the window. I see my birth mother sawing his head off. HANG ON! \n\nI bust into the room, and shout \"What are you doing!\" \n\n\"Ending his pain!\" She replies.\"I mean, he was dead anyway.\n\nThat is true I suppose. I watch as Vix walks into the room, and he get's a paper cut from our wooden doorframe. \n\nMy birth mother looks at him. \"You in pain?\" She questions?\n\n\"Kinda\" my brother replies.\n\nBRRRRRR \n\nI watch as Vix's head falls onto the floor. \n\n\"Ow! Blood in my eye!\" I shout.\n\n\"Oh, you're in pain too?\" \n\n\"Uhhhh ARGH WAIT STOP DON'T KI-\"",
"'But I'm feeding on all those people with you! I'm putting sunblock anyway!', I exclaimed, angered by my Mother's words. Or maybe by This Lady's words? I didn't know her anymore.\n\n'I know darling, your father and I found it cute, but you really shouldn't be surprised. We can't have children anyway as we're half dead.'\n\n'That's right', my father added, 'You really didn't know we're vampires?'\n\n'I realized that a couple of days ago, right after I did that 23andme test. I also found my closest relative...'\n\n'See, darling, everything is alright. We are still your family, but if you want to you can see who your biological parents were'\n\n'Mother, Father', I said in an official tone, grabbing two gifts for them behind my back. 'My closest relative is Abraham van Helsing', I said as I showed them the crucifixes. Soon they couldn't move, staring at the wooden crosses, as I prepared a silver-bullet pistol bought on Amazon just a few days ago. \n\nThe people pretending to have bene my parents for last 20 years turned to dust as I left the house to breathe some fresh air. Suddenly I got a call.\n\n'23andme? Yes, I did get results a few days ago. What? A typo?'. I looked at the results page once again. It showed the closest famous relative as Abraham Helseing, which I assumed to be a typo for 'van Helsing'. However the sweet voice coming from the phone is starting to make my head spin. It was supposed to be Abraham Hendriksz. Baroque painter.",
"It was my 16th birthday. I woke up that morning feeling like I did every other day, different. I had been excited for this day all my life. It was the day I would finally stop aging. At 16 vampires start craving blood, stop aging, and are finally allowed into the families satanic rituals. This birthday my parents didn’t wake me up like they usually did. I always was brought breakfast in bed and treated like the queen I would become. They were no where to be found in the house. It’s almost like they forgot my birthday. \n\n8 hours later.\n\nThe day was almost over. I could tell something was off. I didn’t start craving blood like the coven told me I would. Honestly all I felt was sadness because my family wasn’t there to help me. I decided maybe I should get some blood out of the fridge. Maybe if I smelt it I would become hungry. When I walked up to the fridge I saw a note. It said, “Loren pack your bags. If you haven’t noticed you aren’t craving blood yet. You haven’t had to wear sunblock to go outside and if you try to turn into a bat you will fail. We only took you in because your mother asked us too. Leave before we get back at 11.” I froze. I couldn’t move at all I was so stunned by how they told me this. I was stunned on why they would kick me out after raising me with love and care. In that moment it felt like my life was over. I went upstairs to pack my bags, but I wasn’t leaving until they gave me some answers.\n\n2 hours later.\n\n\nIt was finally 11. My “parents” walked through the door laughing and smiling. They said they were hungry and I should have left while I could. I screamed at them to wait and give me answers. They told me to hurry up and leave before they sucked me dry. I yelled no. That night was horrific. My blood was everywhere. I only got away because the phone started ringing. I am telling this story to help anyone in a coven feeling different. If you get a note from your parents on your 16th birthday telling you to leave, leave.",
"\"I'm not like you. I'm old enough to recognize this. You knew eventually we would be having this conversation.\" I paused, to let the words sink in.\n\n\"I've known for most of my life you were vampires. I only recently realized that... I'm not. But you knew from day one. You HAD to know. I love you and am not judging you. But I have to know... Why?\"\n\nHer parents looked at each other, and then nodded. \"Hon, that's all true. You are old enough to know now,\" her father said.\n\nMy mother chimed in. \"Please understand that your father and I are prouder of you than anyone could possibly appreciate, except maybe yourself. And that not everyone will understand. Not that it's any of their business\", she added, darkly. \"We are not planning on letting anyone take advantage of the gift we have given you. No matter what!\", she finished, fiercely.\n\n\"What your mother is trying to say it's that before she and I... became... We had already decided it would be only to protect and care for you, provide for you every advantage we could, in a world that only respects power and resources. We were not wealthy. We were nobodies before the gift. But we were determined to leave the world a better place with our actions, and that included you, our legacy.\"\n\nI swallowed, uncomfortable. \"But you kill people. Like, weekly, maybe even daily. I want to believe you love me. You've definitely given me no personal reason to doubt that. Yet... You are both murderers, serial killers, even. How do you reconcile that? What am I to take away from that legacy, of mass and ongoing murder, that makes up for it? How do you think I feel, knowing my every advantage came as a direct or indirect result of somebody - probably innocent - being murdered?\"\n\nI crossed my arms, and leaned back. \n\nTo their credit, they did not immediately offer me platitudes or half truths. Instead, they both again looked at each other, and sighed together as if sharing a single heart, a single pair of lungs, and a singular shared regret.\n\nMy father broke the silence first.\n\n\"We are bad people, your mother and I. We don't deny it. In a world full of bad people, though, we are barely footnotes. The good, wholesome, great humans that change the world for the better, never rise to success, when they have sunk to our level.\"\n\nHe paused, waiting for my acknowledgment. I nodded, and motioned for him to continue.\n\n\"You may recall the saying, two wrongs don't make a right. And that's true, never doubt it. But right and wrong are not comparable. They don't exist on the same continuum. They are orthogonal to each other. It's possible for two or more wrongs to clear a space in which right actions can exist. It's not a guarantee, just a possibility. But your mother and I, we realized it was something we could exploit, working together, to make a place for something wholly good and just to thrive, even while condemning ourselves to the long eventual arm of justice.\" My father licked his lips, considering. It was obvious he was in a lot of pain.\n\nMy mother chimed in, \"You should know we choose our victims very carefully. Nobody we killed was in any way innocent of murder themselves. We selected only the most vile, most predatory humans - and monsters like us - to eliminate. We were clearing the way for you, making a safe place for you.\"\n\nMy father nodded his agreement. He smiled sadly at my mother, and remarked, \"We never expected to survive our work. Success itself was open to question, at times. But look at you now! We think it was worth it. If you do what we expect, next, then we were right.\"\n\nMy mother nodded vigorously, against the silvered restraints constraining them both. A potent metabolic and mystical toxin, the silver must be agonizing as well as obviously debilitating. As conflicted as I'd been, I still had plotted this confrontation meticulously, in order to learn the full truth, and nothing but the truth. In this, I realized I had succeeded beyond my wildest imagining.\n\n\"You know what I must do, now. You have to know. You're ok with this?\" I demanded, holding aloft the wooden mallet and handful of oaken staves.\n\n\"Honey, everything we've done for you was in anticipation of this day. Make us proud,\" my father implored. My mother nodded. \"We will always love you, and be proud of you,\" she added.\n\nAfter it was over, I scattered their ashes along the banks of a swift-flowing mountain stream, cool and clean, which would eventually carry their dust out to sea, merging what remained of their essence with the lifeblood of the planet, in all of it's ebbs and flows.\n\nThen I drew up a plan: short, middle, and long term. I would honor their sacrifice by becoming their legacy. It would have to be enough. It was everything the three of us had to offer, after all. I'd find a way to make it work, or die trying, just as they had. \n\nSo emboldened, I set out to redeem the family and fulfill my destiny. And God had mercy on our souls, Amen.",
"I looked at mother, and she looked at me. Father stood by the fireplace, passive, but with one ear in my direction. A moment passed before the thought arrived. I stayed my emotion.\n\n\n\n‘Why would you think that I would believe that? I know what this is. You want me to go to town and take my first. Why you are lying about my origins, I cannot say. But I know this- my heart is vampire, as much as yours.’\n\n\n\nI gazed into those dark eyes, but they never wavered. For another moment, the shifting glow and sturdy crackling from the fireplace was the only thing that let me know that time was still moving. Through the thick glass of the window, I saw the cold moon shimmering through the misty clouds. And in the far distance there finally came the very faint, but unmistakable, call of a wolf. Something seemed to be changing in the air. \n\n\n\nVery gradually, a smile emerged on mother’s otherwise motionless face. The very slightest of changes showed in her eyes. The black pools now had a bottom. I realised she was had moved towards me, and then she was stroking my cheek with her cold white hand. Her gaze remained unbroken. \n\n\n\n‘My love. My boy. Do you think I would lie? Open your eyes, you will see.’\n\n\n\nI snatched the hand away. It felt like removing ice, and my cheek started to pulse. With the slightest of changes, the smile had become a smirk.\n\n\n\n‘What’s the matter? Does the cold make you uncomfortable, my love?’\n\n\n\nA wave surged through me, and I drew myself up. From the very spaces between the spaces in every inch of my body, my vampiric essence was pulled out. Channelling into streams that burst into torrents, which exploded and condensed, and kept surging, until my body was possessed by it, bathed in it. My eyes shone, and my voice was as cold and commanding as the elder lord of the ancient castle at Tum. With the strength of the deepest, and coldest and most turbulent sea, my voice called out at her.\n\n\n\n‘Vampire, open your eyes! What you see before you is not mortal! Its flesh is cold, and its eyes are bright, and its brain is nothing more than bloodlust and hatred. Step forward, so that you may offer yourself.’ \n\n\n\nAt first there was no reaction. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of her laugh start to bubble up from within her. She soon controlled it. Nevertheless, it was more than I could bear to take. I charged. Then something grabbed my arm. \n\n\n\nIn father’s face, I could see the hint of anger fading, and in its place came a grim sadness, and, finally, pity and suffering. Now that she had been relieved of her duties, mother made wicked faces at me, running her sharp tongue over the tips of those pure white fangs. I must confess I felt almost every feeling there is when I saw it, and quickly returned my gaze to my father’s stern, but equally fine, face. A thick and even crop of hair framed it perfectly, as if he had been sculpted by the best of artists.\n\n\n\nSuddenly, he clasped both of his huge hands onto the sides of my shoulders. The grip was like iron.\n\n\n\n‘My boy’, he started. And then he quickly stopped, and, relaxing his grip, looked to the side in contemplation. \n\n\n\nThe blood was been pumping through me by now. In every manner, I was tense as a bow. My eyes bored a hole on the single vein in the side of his neck, as I waited in anticipation for what my father would say next. \n\n\n\n‘Do you know why we adopted you?’\n\n\n\nThe words seared a hole in my brain. Only now was reality hitting me with its full force. I shook my head.\n\n\n\n‘You are a human, and we are vampires. Humans and vampires cannot coexist, but vampires need humans. The humans don’t need us, however. Our goal was to have you enter society, and find suitable humans for us to kill. That was the original reason for adopting you. We knew it before you came into our lives. You were a baby, and your mother was walking with you in the forest. She must have gotten lost, because I found her carrying you at night. I heard her. And I had hunger. I introduced myself to her, pretending to be a lost farmer. I could see that she knew what I was. She held you to me. She said “Take him. Please let me live!”’\n\n\n\nI could see the glow momentarily flicker in his eyes at this memory. \n\n\n\n‘So I took you, and I drank her dry. But, my boy! It was not long before I started to feel emotions about you that had nothing to do with hunger. When you fell down the stairs when you were three, I could feel something. And bit by bit, day by day, the level of emotion that I felt for you kept increasing. In six hundred years I have only felt emotion towards your dear mother. Forgive her, because she has been changing a lot more slowly. It took some time, but now she understands it in the same way that I understand.’\n\n\n\nMother’s elegant face was as blank as a statue, yet I felt something coming from her direction. \n\n\n\n‘You must leave soon. Learn how to be a human. Do the things that humans do. Perhaps one day our connection will be valuable. But we must set you free, and cannot lie to you any further.’\n\n\n\nAs he was saying it, mother had somehow appeared, and was caressing me. Her hands brushed my cheek, ran along my neck and shoulders, over my chest, up the back of my head. She gazed at me, with a fixed, but beautiful smile all the while. The fireplace crackled. She put her lips to my neck and kissed it softly. Then she was gone, and when I turned my head she was standing by the window again, looking at me with sorrow in her eyes. \n\n\n\nMy father’s melodious voice returned. \n\n\n\n‘If you need help, we may be able to offer it. You can come to the castle, or you can leave a note in the church bell tower. Tomorrow morning you will start your new life. I hope that it goes well for you.’\n\n\n\nHe kissed me on the forehead. I contemplated his words. When I had finished my contemplation, there was nobody else in the room. There was just the silver light of the moon, and the ceaseless crackling of the fireplace.",
"\"Why? Why didn't you tell me sooner? I cried.\n\n\"Frankly, honey, we thought it was obvious. You don't hunger for blood, you can't turn into a bat, and you don't need sunblock to go outside during the day.\" \n\nI could only stare incredulously at her as my mother completely shook my world.\n\n\"You told me it was a birth defect. What the hell? And of course I don't hunger for blood, I'm vegan. Jesus Christ, Mom, why are you doing this to me? I know I've always been an embarrassment. Is this your way of distancing yourself from me? Does Dad know you're doing this?\"\n\n\"He knows, Dear. We discussed it last night in our coffins, and we both decided it was time to tell you.\" She hugged me warmly and fixed me with that motherly gaze of hers. \"Honey--Baby, it's time you knew. You're human.\"\n\n\"No. No, no, no! Why are you doing this to me? Is it because I voted for Trump?\"\n\n\"No, Sweetie, though that was pretty fucked up. No. It's--We live longer than you. Our lives will go on for hundreds of years while you'll only live a century if you're lucky--less probably, considering your diet. It's time you went out, spread your proverbial wings, and found someone who completes you.\"\n\n\"Can I still call you Mom?\" I asked plaintively.\n\n\"Of course,\" she murmured back.\n\n\"Will you still support me, and let me use your Netflix account?\"\n\n\"Um . . . I'm sure your father won't have a problem with the Netflix.\"\n\n\"What about the support?\"\n\n\"Honey, you're all grown up now. It's time you spread your wings and got your own place.\"\n\n\"But I don't have wings. You just literally said that. I can't turn into a bat, and I do too use sunblock. I sunburn easily.\"\n\n\"Yes, but you don't burst into flame, and I wasn't talking about changing into a bat. I was speaking metaphorically. You need to spread your metaphorical wings, and--\"\n\n\"What about Disney+ and HBO Max? Can I still use those?\"\n\n\"Ye-Yeah. I guess. You're getting a little of track.\"\n\n\"Oh, if I do leave, will you still pay for my Game Pass--The Ultimate, not the other.\"\n\n\"Beelzebub's balls, Susan! You have to move out. We can't take it anymore. We're vampires. We're supposed to be up all night, but you? Susan, your room smells like feet, your sweat smells like garlic, and I'm pretty damn sure your blood type is Chick-fil-a dipping sauce.\"\n\n\"That is hurtful.\"\n\n\"The truth usually is. Look, it's taking both your father's income and my own to keep this household running. We're nocturnal, Sweetheart, we can't take second jobs with out bursting into flame. Supporting you and us has gotten so difficult, you're father has had to start selling blood.\"\n\n\"He's a vampire. How's that possible.\"\n\n\"Not His blood blood. I undead. That would be ridiculous. No, he's had to start selling his lunch to a guy from work. The point is, you have to move out. You have to move out or . . . get apply for a--\"\n\n\"Noooooooooooo!\" I tried to flee up the stairs before could get the word out.\n\n\"Job. You have to find a job, Susan!\"\n\nI almost made it to my room, but she still managed to squeeze the cursed word out of her mouth. \n\n\"No. No, no, no! I don't wanna work,\" I shouted back at her. \"I wanna stay here.\" I was still running up the stairs. \"I don't wanna pay rent and taxes or by a vacuum cleaner.\" Still running. \n\n\"For crying out loud, Susan, you're twenty-six years old. It's time to leave the roost.\"\n\n\"Noooo!\" My father suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs to block my way. It'd be a bit before I reached him. Running wasn't really my thing.\n\n\"Susan, please stop running. When you sweat, it makes the whole house smell like a Papa Johns.\"\n\n\"Dad, that was mean and cruel.\"\n\n\"Vampire,\" he replied, pointing to himself.\n\n\"Was this the whole thing just get me out of the house and make me find a job? Did you lie about me being adopted just so I would move out?\"\n\n\"Noooooo,\" the both laughed nervously. \"That would be silly. Totally ridiculous.\"\n\n\"I hate you both sooo much right now.\"",
"\"Wait...you guys are vampires?\" Xavier asked, looking back and forth between his 2 parents.\n\n\"But of course dear, are you saying you didn't notice?\"\n\n\"Well no. With me waking up at 5 for the swim team, my job at the animal hospital, and both of you working alternating nights, how could I?\"\n\n\"But surely dear, you noticed the extra fridge with the blood bags or the attic with all the bat bile?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but I thought they were for grandma cause I thought she was sick and figured one of you had a hobby of caring for bats.\"\n\n\"Technically they are also for your grandmother, but that's besides the point-\"\n\n\"You're saying Grandma is a Vampire too?!\"\n\n\"Of course, an Elder Vampire, but a vampire none the less. Though in her case, quite literally as she got changed in her late 60s when your father and I got the gift in our 30s.\"\n\n\"I thought that she just had different bingo things she went to every night with her friends?\"\n\n\"She does, but she doesn't do that every night. Sometimes it's bowling, and sometimes it's to meet with Mary Sue for some hunting.\"\n\n\"Wait, so you guys actually like...*kill* people?\"\n\n\"Oh nothing like that dear. We just get a little nibble to draw some blood and then have a sip. Humans actually don't need *all* the blood flowing in their veins, and the human body is pretty good at refreshing itself.\"\n\n\"Well...can I *be* a vampire?\"\n\n\"You can, but that's for 1, not for us to decide, and 2, not for another few years. Comes with the move into 'civilized ages', most our activities are monitored fairly closely. Honestly, nothing like the stories or what you're imagining I'd guess.\"\n\n\"Who do I have to talk to?\"\n\n\"When you're ready sweetie, for now, you still have schoolwork that needs doing for tomorrow, and I have to go to work.\"\n\nXavier's mother climbs the stairs toward the attic, leaving him with his father.\n\n\"We do still love you just as much, thirst for blood or no.\" His father hugs him, and walks into the living room and turns on the TV.",
"I am so bored. Another night. Another raid. \n\nMy only contribution was disarming the bouncers at the entrance. After that, my coven held the mortals in their thrall. Then the party truly began. For them, I mean.\n\nEvery few weeks, our coven targets a club. The alcohol and drugs in the mortals’ blood sweeten the experience. We do not kill. We take a small fraction of blood from each mortal and put them to sleep. After we pool it into a large chalice, everyone dips their straw into it and drinks together. Sharing is caring and all that. I try not to grimace while taking my share because it offends The Old Ones (the vampires who look like they are about to conk off, but are never likely to). \n\nI finished drinking my share of the blood and sat alone in a corner while everyone danced to the subpar music chosen by my imbecilic younger sister. Then they all turned into fucking bats and disappeared. I stayed to watch the sunrise and then walked home. I am the only one who still can. Everyone else suffers a bad case of sunburn if they try. And they never do. Their vanity would not survive it. \n\nWe live in a laundromat. Business as usual. Washing clothes. Laundering money. Secret vampiring. \n\nMy parents had stayed up well past their bedtime to wait for me. Dad asked, “Did you have fun, honey?”\n\nI sigh. “I tried. It’s hard. I never feel like I belong. And the music really sucks, pun unintended.” \n\nThey ignored my little joke and shot furtive looks at each other. Mom says, “About that.. we have been meaning to talk to you. We think you are old enough to know. You are adopted. We found you in the middle of a really sticky situation when you were a baby. Your birth parents did not survive and we took you in.” \n\nThat. Explains. So. Much. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”\n\n“Frankly honey,” she sighed, “we thought it was obvious. You don’t hunger for blood, you can’t turn into a bat, and you don’t need sunblock to go outside during the day.” \n\n“But you told me that I was different because puberty was hitting me really late!” \n\nWith just a hint of impatience, my mother replied, “Did it never occur to you that you are the only girl who needs to be quarantined for five days a month?” \n\nWell. Fuck.",
"“You're impossibly slow, and weak. Your skin is olive toned and warm. Your eyes never change. You order pho on grubhub and drink boba tea. You love sunbathing. You’re how old? Seventeen now? Surely you’ve noticed you age while we remain never changing.”\n\nI struggled with this logic. Now that my father laid out the…obvious…it was, well, obvious. “I-I just thought that….I knew I was different. A slow learner or something…” \n\nMy father patiently shook his head, his face apologetic. He placed a cold, white hand over mine. The color difference never seemed so stark. “Your mother-birth mother, that is-was a nun who was impregnated by the priest of the church she served in. That priest also hunted our kind down his whole life. We stumbled upon her one night at a hospital and we traded secrets. She would lure the priest to our nest in exchange that we kept her pregnancy a secret…and that we raised you.”\n\n“The priest was rancid.” My mother shuddered at the memory. \n\nI swallowed bile that crept up. Blood was pounding in my ears. Surely, this is a joke. A bad one. All I knew was sleeping in coffins, hanging around morgues and graveyards, going to bloodbath raves. But as I thought back to all those nights, the other vamps would look at me funny, some of them called me Blood Bag or Ticking Clock. It never made much sense before. \n\n“I‘ve drank blood before, though.” I said. \n\n“That was cranberry juice.” My mother answered. \n\n“I can’t enter into a building without invitation.”\n\n“That was common curtesy.”\n\nI slumped. I was human. Human as can be. Maybe I knew all along but didn’t want to admit it. I was a walking blood bag with only a few decades to live. My family, eternally frozen, would live for eons after I turned to dust. My family that kept this truth from me. \n\n“Vic and Emilia aren’t my siblings.” I choked. “I don’t have siblings.” \n\n“Baby,” my mother patted my cheek, wiping away a tear. “Baby, we’re still your family. I didn’t feed you from my breast but I fed you. And I made sure you got your vitamin D, even when it burned me. Victor and Emilia never even took a nip out of you because they love you so.” \n\n“Why? Why tell me now?”\n\n“Because. You’re about to be a woman. And you have a choice. You don’t have to make it now. You can grow older, get married, have children, and choose later. Or never choose at all.” My father answered. \n\nA choice. A choice between the Forever Night with my family or an unpredictable, flimsy life as human. I can have eternity or I can have possibility. I can have my family or a new one. Maybe children, one day. Maybe never, even as a human. A normal life with a normal job and grocery shopping for normal food during the day time and enjoying friends who aren’t always having orgies and not murdering people and being able to look at my reflection. \n\nBut this was my *family*. My brother who would steal candy for me at the store. My sister who braided my hair and read scary stories to me. My mother and my father…my parents who raised me. \n\n“You don’t have to choose, now, baby.” My mother assured. \n\n“No. No, I know what I want. But first, is the nun still alive?”"
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[WP] You're the chosen one who defeated the dark lord. Now years later, you're a ptsd ridden adult. Dealing with your nightmarish past.
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"He didn’t know how close he’d been to the person that he’d considered his enemy. Until their end had finally come.\n\nMarcus awoke suddenly with a fright as the rooster dictated its morning call. He blinked a few times before stiffly removing the entangled sheets from his body. Walking into the bathroom he brushed his teeth while closing his eyes slightly to block out the fluorescents he’d just turned on.\n\nAfter a few minutes spitting in the sink only to freeze briefly as he saw an unwanted reflection in the mirror. It almost made him jump but he quickly recognized that it was just him and no one else. He quickly opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed an innocent white pill. Using the well water he took it and continued on with his day.\n\nHe went downstairs and grabbed some eggs from the pantry, cracking them over the castiron. As the eggs cooked he suddenly heard a knock on the front door.\n\nMarcus tried to ignore the knocking but whoever was on the other side had become much too persistent.\n\nOpening the door Marcus looked blankly towards a young woman.\n\n“Oh Marcus!” she spoke happily “I was wondering when you’d answer.”\n\n“Celti,” Marcus greeted, “What brings you?”\n\n“Well…” Celti paused as she reached into a small basket while pulling out a dark loaf of bread. “I was hoping you’d be in the mood to trade some eggs with me today.”\n\nMarcus simply nodded and let the young woman into his home.\n\nShe happily stepped in and looked around the room.\n\n“You should get a decorator here, it is so dreary.” Celti said while scrunching her nose. “Also, what’s that burning smell?”\n\nMarcus remembered his eggs and quickly made his way back into the kitchen. Quickly he turned off the stove and stared down at the charred flesh.\n\nFor some reason the blackened egg made his stomach hurt and the next moment he fell to the ground.\n\nSuddenly he was no longer in his house but rather a public execution. People lined up the streets yelling in mockery as he sat on the cobblestone path. He never wanted this. Marcus never wanted it to come to such a horrid end he just wanted to go on adventure. He hadn’t expected glory to have such consequences. Once again seeing her face smiling down at him mockingly.\n\n“Marcus?”\n\nThe signaling of his name suddenly brought him back to the wooden floors of his home.\n\n“Oh Marcus, don’t tell me you're gonna eat that. It is basically charcoal.” Celti, said as she took away the cast iron skillet. “This needs to be washed.”\n\nMarcus stood up slowly as he was still shaken up. He felt the nausea slowly recede into the back of his stomach till there was nothing there at all. He didn’t like being around people especially when he became like that. However, Celti seemed to help calm him down so he never turned her away. The woman was sweet, too kind for words.\n\n“I’ll get the eggs.” Marcus left before he could let his thoughts go any further.\n\nHe went to the chicken pen only to sit outside of the wooden hutch in the fetal position. He’d just wanted the agony to end, but the demon had cursed him with life. He stared toward the grain as he watched an orange fox.\n\nUsually, he would chase such a creature away but instead of a chicken the fox was chasing a greyish brown hare. The fox seemed to be fixated on the thing as it continued to cut off the creature's route of escape. He desperately hoped the hare would out maneuver the fox but it was eventually caught in the fox’s mouth.\n\nHe couldn’t help but think if the fox had been him or if the hare. If she hadn’t intervened perhaps she wouldn't have been labeled as a heretic by his once friends. Maybe if he had spoken up there wouldn’t have been any need for her end to come so early.\n\n“Marcus?” That voice called out for him again.\n\nMarcus grabbed the eggs returning back to his home.",
"\"Selena! NOOOOOOOOOO!\"\n He screams as he thrust out his open hand as he watched his wife being eviscerated by the demon lord. This causes a trigger in the hero as he mentally breaks releasing his untapped power! \n\"You bastard! I will fucking kill you!!!\" \nThe hero speeds forward at super sonic speed, power and lights all emanating off of him causing random lightning strikes taking down the Dark Lord's minions.\n\"CRASHING TSUNAMI!!!\" \nCries the hero in tears as the power courses through his veins into his sword. The Dark lord tries to parry but the hero's swing crashes through the sword and delivers a fatal blow. Power lights and lightning flow through the open wound on the Dark lord completely destroying his internal organs and expelling them from his body. As he finally lay broken and battered on the floor with his guts hanging out he smiles his last and fades to black. The hero stands victorious. He finally takes a breath. He does not celebrate for around him bodies of the fallen. His party, all slain in this final battle. He walks over to his fallen wife and holds her head to his chest and cries sad tears.\n\nYEARS LATER\n\nEmpty bottles lay around the man. He is unkept and smelly. Unshaven beard with tattered clothing. He is sitting in an alleyway with his last bottle of rum. The man hurls the bottle at the wall smashing it into a million pieces. The glass shattering causes an automatic response increasing his reaction time as he sees broken glass falling in slow motion. A large piece catches his eye while falling and it shows a reflection of him and with a trick of a light he could swear he saw his fallen wife too. Finally all the pieces come to rest and time seems to return to normal. The man slumps down to the ground crying and broken inside. He can't sleep. He can't eat. He never smiles. His purpose now is to drink and to forget and hopefully pass out and not sleep. He blames himself for being too cowardly to end it all and he blames himself for the death of his wife and team.",
"Echoes of A Hero\n\nThe young adventurer strode confidently to tavern counter to ask the barkeep if there was any questing to be had around the town. His glimmering sword clattered noisily against his armor with every step and his pack looked heavy with supplies. Before he could reach the front, a cloaked figure raised one gnarled hand and beckoned him to the dark corner where they sat alone. \n\nEager to learn anything he could about this place, the adventurer hastily made his way to the table and sat down across from the figure. The wizened face of an old man stared back at him. The expression on his face was unreadable, save for a great sorrow that could be seen in his eyes. He spoke with a voice as thin as spider’s silk.\n\n“What is your name, young man?” Tye old man leaned forward, as if to get a better look at the adventurer. \n\n“Arthos, wise sir. I am looking for opportunities for a grand quest and was hoping this tavern would bear fruit.” The words spilled from Arthos’ mouth, betraying his serious tone with their bubbling excitement.\n\n“Arthos” said the old man, pausing as though he had to examine the name “Very well. You may call me Dalthanius”.\n\nAt the mention of the old man’s name, Arthos sat bolt upright. What was barely contained excitement before burst forth in a wave of admiration and disbelief. “Surely you don’t mean Dalthanius, Savior of Men? You are my greatest inspiration! I had always hoped since I was a child that I could be half the hero you were!”\n\nThe sadness in Dalthanius’ eyes grew more apparent and the air around him seemed to still. His whisper thin voice still carried a great deal of power. “I had feared that was the case. Go home child, there is no glory in what you seek”.\n\nAll at once the smile came crashing down from Arthos’ face. He opened his mouth to protest, but the old hero cut him off.\n\n“I have heard every argument there is. All the reasons I should be proud of my work and how grand it must have felt to save the realm. But nobody who’s told me all these things knows what it was really like. Do you know what it was like, Arthos”?\n\nAgain, Arthos tried to reply, stammering out an “I-I” before going quiet again. Dalthanius resumed\n\n“You don’t know the half of it. I killed countless people, child. Dozens and dozens, maybe even hundreds of men, broken by years of poisonous ideology, but no other crime than that. They didn’t think they were evil, in their eyes they weren’t.” The great sadness that could be felt in the presence of the hero flashed into red hot anger “and what good has truly come from my work? Our kingdom is safe, but the land to the east is left as a barren wasteland, ravaged by war. It’s few citizens who remain are living in abject poverty or rotting in our prisons. I cannot in good conscience allow others to follow in my footsteps “.\n\nArthos seemed to have been stunned by the words of the man across the table. He stood silently and looked down at the Savior of Men for a long moment before undoing the fasteners that held his sword to his armor. Wordlessly he placed the sword on the table between them and left the tavern.\n\nDalthanius sighed and picked up the sword, balancing its heavy steel between his frail hands. He unsheathed it for a moment, allowing his eyes to meet his reflection in the polished blade for a moment before putting the blade away once again. With a shake of his head, he propped the sword up in the corner behind his table where a dozen or more other swords sat gathering dust.\n\nNever again.",
"\"A toast! On this anniversary we raise our glasses to the Knight of the Evening Star, The Gods' chosen hero, who on this day saved the world as we know it. You are a beacon of hope to us all\" \n\nAndrew raised his glass, and the many guests of the ball followed their King in suit. A mighty clamor of \"here here!\" Rose from the crowd. \n\nI gave a humble smile and nod. \"It is an honor to serve my people and my king.\" \n\nAnother cheer came from the crowd, and with their glasses drained the party began in earnest. All the nobles and ministers began to eat and dance, finding what to complain about and putting on their practiced smiles. The slow and steady political dance never ended, even in times of revelry. Especially in times of revelry. \n\nAfter the toast me and Andrew moved to the side in an attempt to postpone the inevitable influx of people. Though his eyes never lost the mischievous glint of his youth, he had grown from the trouble-making prince into a wise and kind king. His beard covered the long white scar on his cheek. For a moment, I could see the blood again. Running fresh and crimson down his face. I blinked, and the memory vanished. \n\n\"I think we can definitely file tonight as a success.\"\n\nI managed a small laugh. \"No one has started drinking yet, it could all go down hill.\"\n\nHis hand clasped my shoulder. \"Ah but my old friend that's just it. It's only the first part of a ball that matters. No one remembers the rest.\"\n\n\"Good, seems my work here is done. I'll excuse myself.\"\n\nA look of concern flashed over his face. \"I know you're not one for parties but these people have all come to celebrate you. Your triumph. Have a drink, talk to people, flirt a bit even. Enjoy yourself.\"\n\nI prepared a rebuttal but the look in his eye told me it was hopeless. I gave a sigh, and nodded. \"Ok\" With that, we steeled ourselves and entered the fray. \n\nWe began to make our way to one of the many tables heavily ladder with food. Of course on our way we had to stop and greet the many guests. I shook hands with merchants and nobles and ministers and couriers and long lost cousins and old friends. All with the same saccharine smile and offers of gratitude that disguised selfish motives. The dance continued as complaints were made all around us. The curtains, the food, the flowers, the staff, the guest list. None were satisfactory. And it was simply the end of the world that the table clothes were violet instead of the proper regal purple.\n\nLife in the palace was hard to adjust to. After I had stared oblivion in the eye, it was hard to understand the pettiness. When you've had to make life or death decisions for nearly a year straight, who gets to sit where at dinner feels entirely unimportant.\n\nI tried my best to smile through it. Letting Andrew's kingly charm and silver tongue do the heavy lifting. But the chatter all around me. The endless noise. The people crowding around. I began to feel the air leave my lungs. My eyes began to naturally dart around all the faces, and out of the corner of my eye I could see someone... something... familiar...\n\nI looked at the floor. It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It. Wasn't. Real. I forced deep breaths. I clenched my fingers. I smiled. The fight was over. All that was in the past.\n\nEventually we made it to the sanctuary of the food table, piled high with pastries and other treats. Food was good. It took some of the nuasea away. I laughed at one of Andrew's jokes.\n\nThen there was a loud noise. A glass shattered, or someone dropped something. And suddenly I was in hell.\n\nThat dark hall. It was so cold. I looked over at Andrew. His beard was gone, his face unnaturally pale, blood streaming down the cut on his cheek and from his shirt. That glassy look in his eye. I jumped back. I felt something crunch under my feet. There was a sinking feeling inside my stomach, and I looked down to see the broken body of a soldier. My soldier. Strewn all around us over a hundred men lay dead. Their bodies twisted at I'd angled. The floor was slippery with their blood. \n\nAnd then I saw *them*. All around me. The twisted forms made if pure shadow. They grabbed at me, trying to pull me deeper. I grabbed for my sword and swung the blade to keep them at bay. Then the laughter came. Sweet, childlike laughter. It enveloped me, and it almost felt like it was coming from inside my chest. \n\nBut it wasn't. No I knew where it was coming from. It came from the body if a child. A little girl. She had wandered too far from home and it found her. I could see it, puppeting her body. Pulling it this way and that. From her eyes and mouth poured pure darkness. It could twist her face into am evil smile. It could even sound like her. \n\nThe laugher only got louder, and louder, and louder. I ran, trying to escape the sound. If I could only escape the sound. But there was no escape. All I could do was lay on the ground and weep. \n\nAnd then it stopped. I opened my eyes, and I was once again at the ball. On the floor, weeping. In my hand was a shattered liquor bottle I had been brandishing as a weapon. \n\nI spent the next few days alone in my chamber, watching the busy courtyard below. I watched the way of life so many people had layed down their lives for. A way of life I could never fully be a part of.\n\nIn the end Andrew was right. No one remembered most of that night. Not even when the kingdom's greatest hero had gone mad and threatened the guests. And eventually, they all began to forget how the world had almost ended. It all began to fade into legend. The only one who remembered what it was like to face oblivion was an old forgotten knight that was plauged by an imaginary war that had never ended.",
"They called me a hero when I killed him. But I don’t feel that way. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have any sense of misplaced guilt for slaying the Dark Lord. But there’s no pride to be had in it either. \n\nHe’s coughing up blood. Without his disguise he looks, well, normal. He looks like one of your parents’ friends. Like your high school calculus teacher. Like your dentist. \n\nBefore he dies, he points at me. He grins. \n\n“Your battle with me will never truly be over.”\n\nI plunge the karambit into his heart and he’s still. I don’t give what he said to me anymore thought for years. It’s like something out of those Japanese role-playing games I loved as a kid. \n\nNow I’m lying in bed. My Jack Russell terrier, Dozer, is snuggled against my head. It’s a cold, rainy night. The kind of night that makes you want to crawl underneath your covers and sleep for twelve hours straight. \n\nI’m otherwise alone in my modest townhome. No one has been here in—I don’t know—six months, a year. Not since Carlie left anyway. And I don’t even blame her for that. I wouldn’t want to be with me either.\n\nThe house creeks. I don’t like the sound. It sounds too… alive. But it’s what to be expected in an older home and in this kind of weather. Then I hear it again. It’s the sound of feet on stairs. *Creeeeeeeek, creeeeeeeek.*\n\nI look at Dozer. He’s still sound asleep and usually he’ll awake at the drop of a hat. \n\n*Creeeeeeeek, creeeeeeeek.*\n\nI consider jumping out the window. It’s about a fifteen-foot drop. That means I’ll probably break my ankle and who knows what other bones if I attempt it. I can barely move anyway. If I do, it’ll hear me. \n\nI shut my eyes. I’m crying now. These aren’t tears of sadness. These are borne of pure helplessness. There’s nothing I can do. \n\nThen the light in the upstairs hallway comes on. Or, someone turned it on. I grab Dozer and pull him into my chest. Like this little creature should be the one who protects me. He licks at my face, then promptly goes back to sleep. \n\nThere’s another creek. This one is different though. This is the one that the hardwood floors—not the stairs—make. One more of those will mean it’ll be within arm’s reach of my bedroom door. Then it’ll open it, and…\n\n*Hey y’all prepare yourselves for the rubber band man…*\n\nThe Spinners’ classic plays on my phone. It’s my alarm tone. It’s 7:00 a.m. Time to get up and get ready for another day’s work. I don’t particularly like my job at Sewell and Associates, but it pays the bills. More importantly, while I’m there, I don’t have to think about it. \n\nBut when I’m alone—at home, in my car, wherever—I do. The Dark Lord has some nasty magic indeed.\n\n“Sometimes I can’t believe that *he’s* my son.”\n\nOr was it, “Sometimes I really worry about my son?”\n\nI’m twelve years old. Like most twelve-year-olds I can be pretty obnoxious. But I don’t think I’m that bad. \n\n“He doesn’t play sports, he has no friends. All he does is spend all day on that computer of his.”\n\nOr was it, “He really needs to spend a little less time on the computer.”\n\nI don’t know. \n\nDad is talking to one of his friends. Which one was it?\n\nI’m supposed to be asleep. I slink back to my room. Not because I’m afraid of getting in trouble. But because of how it would make my dad feel if he knew I heard those things. If… if that’s what he actually said. I think he said them…\n\nI walk into the office. Nicoleta sees me and smiles.\n\n“Miles!” she cries.\n\nShe walks over to me and grabs my arm. “That ending! That ending! I was like… ‘what!?’”\n\nNicoleta is from Romania. She moved here with her husband a few years ago. I’m pretty sure he’s in the mob, but that’s another story. Now, Nicoleta grew up in a small, conservative, rural village back in Romania. Which meant that remained sheltered from many aspects of American culture. Since we’ve known each other, I’ve introduced her to several TV shows I’ve watched. *Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, Game of Thrones* and now *The Sopranos.*\n\nI can’t help but return the smile. Her enthusiasm is infectious. And Nicoleta is looking especially good today. She’s wearing too much perfume, but damn. \n\n“So he got whacked, no?” she asks.\n\nShe pulls herself closer to me. Probably a little closer than is necessary. We flirt sometimes. But I’ve never attempted to take it anywhere. Partly because of how things ended with Carlie. I don’t want a repeat of what happened there. Partly because I seriously don’t want to find out if my suspicions about her husband are actually true. \n\n“I think so. But it’s sort of up to you to decide,” I answer. \n\nThroughout the day, Nicoleta will come into my office. Maybe more than she has to. To show me some work, only to have us end up in flirtatious conversation that will lead absolutely nowhere. \n\n“Happy hour at Sancho’s. Want to get a drink after work?” \n\nMan I love her accent. I could just listen to her talk.\n\n“Well, I…” I stammer. Remember what I said about this leading nowhere and why?\n\n“Promised my mom I’d do dinner with her tonight. Been putting it off forever.”\n\n“Oh, you’re so sweet, Miles.” She touches my cheek, smiles, and walks out of my office. \n\nThen it’s time to go home. \n\nI have to pull over to the side of the road. I’m crying so hard I can barely see. Barely breathe. I remember—I think—who dad was talking to. It was granddad. The man I loved more than anyone. The best man I’ve ever known. My dad was saying these things to grandad and grandad was agreeing with him.\nWas grandad mad at me for letting him die?\n\nWait, that makes no sense. Grandad didn’t die until… he didn’t die until a year after this. Miles can remember it plain as day. He was there. And he didn’t do anything. Granddad had one of those Jolly Ranchers in his mouth, accidentally swallowed it and…\n\nYou just sat there and you watched him die. \n\nNo wonder dad and grandad were saying those things about you.\n\n“Your battle with me will never truly be over. And do you know why?” \n\nHe laughs as the realization dawns my face. Right up until I plunge the knife into his chest. \n\nThey called me a hero when I killed him. But I don’t feel that way. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have any sense of misplaced guilt for slaying the Dark Lord. But there’s no pride to be had in it either. \n\nNow I’m lying in bed. My Jack Russell terrier, Dozer, is snuggled against my head. It’s a cold, rainy night. The kind of night that makes you want to crawl underneath your covers and sleep for twelve hours straight."
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[WP] You owed a powerful Hag a life debt and are distraught when she comes to collect. She's got another customer who wants to switch lives with somebody, and you have no choice but to agree to offer yours up. The Hag does her magic, and you wake up in the royal palace in the place of the King.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I sat under the waterfall. The water pounding down on me may as well have been a gentle rain. Deep in meditation I could sense everything within the forest around me. So when the Hag arrived I knew immediately.\n\n\"I have come for the life I am owed,\" her quiet voice clearly heard even over the thunder or the falls.\n\nA powerful killing curse had been placed on me years ago, if not for my own powerful skills I'd have died immediately. I was slowly dying anyway, but I had time to look for a solution.\n\nThe Hag had that solution. She lifted the curse, and I owed her a life debt. I'd known she'd come to collect eventually, and apparently now it was time to pay my debt.\n\nI gave her a short bow of respect.\n\n\"Thank you for allowing me to get my revenge and continue my training,\" I looked at the man behind her realizing we were of similar age.\n\n\"You have no wish to die, do you Son of Dragons?\"\n\n\"I do not fear an honorable death,\" I spoke calmly, \"but I do not seek it either.\"\n\n\"This man has purchased a life from me,\" the Hag motioned towards the man behind her, \"I have decided to give him yours.\"\n\nI took several deep calming breaths.\n\n\"Will honor our agreement,\" I bowed deeply.\n\n\"You are a man of honor,\" the Hag's voice sounded strangely gentle, \"This is a good thing. Never change who you are.\"\n\nAs my vision faded to black I pondered what she could possibly mean as I believed myself to be dying.\n\n\"Flee, your majesty! Assassins!\"\n\nI instinctively rolled out of the soft bed and onto the floor. Glancing around I found myself in a richly appointed room, a crown was sitting on a pedestal next to me. Hanging from the wall were two short swords behind a shield. Soon I was armed.\n\nJust in time as my door was kicked in. Three masked figures rushed into the room only to be met with the Dragon's Wing Form for Dagger and Sword. They were dead before they even realized it, looks of shock and pain forever etched on their faces. \n\nA moment later I had donned pants and boots. Two more masked figures entered the room, stoping in shock at seeing their compatriots on the ground. \n\n\"You're from the Red Hand,\" I murmured, \"Do not think this will not be repaid.\"\n\nTheir eyes widened in surprise before they rushed forward to their deaths.\n\nNow I understood. The Hag took my life and gave it to another, but I received the life that was left unwanted and unfilled. Being a king might be worth the effort."
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[WP]As you wake up in the middle of the night, you feel a chill overtake your body. Before you can look up, you can hear someone breathing over you. You open your eyes to see a ghostly apperition staring down at you. With an curious, eager look in their eyes, they say... "What's your Wifi password?"
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"It wasn't so much that I was terrified as was confused. The sight of a preened YouTuber, with a like and dislike button and a constantly updating comment thread hovering in a milky shimmer before him, was not what I expected to see when confronted with a ghostly apparition. Wires and ethernet cables draped from his body like Marley's chains and his feet seemed to consist of a tumultuous cloud of rolling black smoke. \n\nHe asked me again before I realised I hadn't said anything. \n\n\"What's your WiFi Password?\"\n\n\"Who are you?\" I stammered. The apparition sighed. \n\n\"I'm Jason, from downstairs, you know?\" now that I looked at him I recalled our minor meetings in the hallway. The non-committal nods and flat smiles you give to someone you have to acknowledge but don't particularly want to get to know. \n\n\"I died.\" \n\n\"Well yeah, I guess you did.\" I said, pulling my duvet up to my neck. I did not want this ghost to see my nipples.\n\n\"You didn't notice? There was an ambulance...\" he almost seemed to whine the words out his mouth. \n\n\"I... I'm sorry, I've been very busy. Work n stuff you know.\" I said. \n\n\"People put flowers outside for me. Girls put flowers outside.\" Jason gesticulated vaguely to the window.\n\"Can you just give me your WiFi password? They shut mine off.\" \n\n\"Were you a tik tok man or something?\" The sentence made Jason wince and he looked at me like I was a pigeon that'd shit on his car. \n\n\"I'm an influencer mate. I create bespoke content and brand promotion and I just need your WiFi password because I am going to be trending right now and I don't want to miss it OK? Fuck sake.\"\n\nI took a handful of my duvet and flung it off me, this ghost was no threat to my nipples. I walked over to the router and read out the lengthy combination of letters and numbers off the back. \n\nThe ghosts head up display flicked through the standard apps, twitter, YouTube, tik tok, instagram. I glanced at my phone and tried for a second to remember if the Ghostbusters actually had a real number before Jason yelped. His face drained and he somehow managed to look even more dead. \n\n\"What is it?\" \n\n\"There's been an earthquake, 40 dead in Australia.\" he mutter, eyes gazing out of the window. \n\n\"Jesus, that's awful.\" I replied before picking up my phone and flicking through twitter.\n\n\"And you are..\" I started\n\n\"Not even featured.\" he finished. \n\nI couldn't say what it takes to make a soul so restless they can never move on from this world, but I do know the day I moved out of that flat, 3 years later, Jason was still asking me to revive a hashtag.\n\n\"Christ mate, \" was the last thing I said to him \"no wonder you're haunted.\"",
"“Damnit Jerry! If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times! Don’t wake me up in the middle of the night, I have to get up at 4. Do it again and I’ll go talk to that priest about an exorcism.”\n\nHe looks shocked, as if we hadn’t had this conversation before. “I bet he doesn’t even know how to get rid of me anyway.” He pouts and floats back downstairs through the floor.\n\nI’d been living here for about a year now. Last January I had been desperate, after being kicked out of my house in the middle of the winter. Luckily I had a decent amount of savings and could stay in a motel for a few days as I worked out a more permanent living situation. While I had a bit of a nest egg, I didn’t really have a ton of change to spend, plus I was trying to find something move in ready.\n\nThen I struck gold. A decent apartment in a location kinda close to my place of work. Even better, it was in my price range! It was almost too good to be true. But I checked it out anyway. I called up the real estate company and took a tour. It all seemed legit, so I jumped on the opportunity. That may have been a mistake.\n\nThe first week was totally normal- or maybe I was just too tired from moving in while working a full time job to notice anything. After finally feeling settled in, things start going weird. Cups started migrating across the counter. Cabinet doors moving just outside my range of vision. Doors slamming shut just a little too hard, even with wind coming through the open window. \n\nFinally, I had enough. “It’d make sense if this place was haunted, no wonder it was so cheap.” I chuckled feeling like an idiot for talking to thin air.\n\nAll of a sudden, a figure popped into existence. “Aww, I thought it’d take longer for you to notice!”\n\n“What the-!” I startled, barely cutting off my scream. It was too late to be loud- didn’t want any noise complaints after all.\n\n“...you didn’t actually know about me did you?” He raises his left hand, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Oops. I guess I’m still too new at this haunting thing.”\n\n“You’re a ghost aren’t you?” I haltingly ask, unsure if it would provoke an attack. Horror movies had trained me well.\n\n“...noooo. I’m just a figment of your imagination.” He pauses. “Of course I’m a ghost. And you’re living in MY apartment! MINE. So you need to leave. ASAP.”\n\n“No.”\n\nHis eyes widened, surprised. “What do you mean no?”\n\nI raise an eyebrow “just that. No. Nope. Nada. Not gonna happen. What else do you need? I have no place else to go, so you’re stuck with me. I don’t care what you do, I’m not leaving.” I cross my arms, emphasizing my point.\n\nSlowly, a wicked smile spreads across his face. “Challenge accepted.”",
"You slam your eyes shut and try to take a couple controlled breaths. \n\nThis is not happening. \n\nYou've always had a vivid imagination, maybe this is just a dream? A dream that feels and sounds real. \n\nYou have to wake up. \n\nYour steel your nerves and re- open your eyes, pleased to see the... Ghost? No longer hovering over you. \n\nYour hadn't realized you were holding your breath until it was released in a drawn out sigh. You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped afterwards. You felt ridiculous, laying there, staring up at your ceiling, shocked you'd even considered ghosts were real for a moment.\n\nStill...\n\nYou turned to pick up your phone off the bedside table to check the time, eyes drifting over the room in the process. As you do, you notice the pale shape of a person, sitting in the chair in the far corner of the room. \n\nYour skin breaks out in goosebumps. Every hair standing on end. It feels like someone was pouring freezing cold water down your back. \n\nYou couldn't blink. You couldn't scream. All you could do was set and stare at the figure in the chair.\n\n\"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I just need the wifi password and I can get out of your hair.\" The figure spoke with a voice that sounded like it's vocal cords had been gone over with sandpaper a few times. It was jarring and not at all made less so by it also being so friendly.\n\nYou grab your glasses and shove them onto your face so you can see them better. \n\nThey seemed young, about your age, with unruly, curly hair that fell around the tops of their ears. They were dressed in ripped jeans, a t-shirt and an open flannel shirt. No colours were discernible, as they seemed exist in only milky grey's now. \n\nThere was so much you wanted to say, to ask. But instead all you could wad sit frozen in your bed, mouth agape, in complete shock. You weren't surprised to find out later when you woke again, that you had passed out.",
"“Bro what-t-t the fuck are are you even doing?” shouted David as he scrambled against his bed board. \n\n“What. Is. Your. Wifi. Password.” whispered whatever the demonic creature was as cockroaches fell from its’ face.\n\n“Well let’s start by not dropping fucking cockroaches on my bed, jesus who the fuck raised you.”\n\n“You did.” it responded as its face turned 360 degrees. \n\n“What?”\n\n“You. Did.” \n\n“yOu dId, wtf do you mean?” David mocked. \n\n“You didn’t share that one post on facebook. So you raised me from the depths of hell.” \n\nDavid blinked.\n\nThe apparition responded “Yea ya fuckin’ idiot, give me your wifi password and i’ll just share it myself on your phone” as he waved David’s phone. \n\n“My password is 199469.” responded David avoiding eye contact. \n\n“Okay, cool” mumbled the ghost. \n\n“Oh also, you’re dead.” added the ghost. \n\n“What?”\n\n“Yeah I was just fucking with you about the whole phone facebook sharing deal. You died last night.” \n\n“Yeah I mean whatever I guess, fuck that really kinda sucks, how’d I die?, whatever, why you still need my phone then?” responded David\n\n“See what memes ya got. Determines the whole Heaven or Hell thing.”"
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[WP] You're an astronaut and your tether just broke off the ship. Your flailing wildly as you drift off into space. Days pass, and you're begging for your inevitable death but it never comes. You should have froze or suffocated by now, but you're still very much alive in the endless, dark , void.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\n\n\n\nI remember sometimes, when I was a child, I would climb out my bedroom onto the roof and lie awake beneath the night sky. I would watch the stars twinkle and gleam inside all that black abyss, and I would imagine a life far away. A life within the galaxy, beyond time itself, somewhere not here. \n\nAnd I remember the calm, the silence, the endless expanse of cosmos swimming in that dark, dark sea above. \n\nThe earth had trembled with want, had echoed my dreams across the universe, and had warned me of the consequences. It demanded me to take, wished for me to dream, and in the end, it wasn’t the planet that betrayed me. \n\nIn the end, it was the void. \n\nThat endless, dark void. \n\n—\n\nSpace is a lot like falling asleep under the stars, on the rooftop of my childhood home, dreaming of another life. \n\nIt’s waking up everyday to the galaxy staring back at you, being a lone traveller among an ocean of space, hearing the silence as if you were a part of it. And maybe in someway you were. Maybe it was the silence that ended up getting too loud, or maybe it was the loudness of my thoughts, of my brain, of my beautiful, broken mind, that ended in me drowning inside the quiet. \n\nAs an astronaut, I’m trained for many things. Unexpected things. Even frightening things. But nobody ever trains you for the void — for what happens if you poke the space too much, if you dream too big, if the tether of your ship breaks off and all of a sudden you’re drifting off into space for days, for weeks, for months, still alive, still breathing, but somewhere deep down, wishing that you weren’t. \n\nNobody ever tells you that sometimes it’s loving space that makes you hate it the most. \n\nI had only wanted an escape from the pains of my life, but in the end, I was trapped in them. But perhaps that’s not exactly right. Perhaps they’re trapped in *me,* and perhaps that’s all that I am now. A fragment of who I used to be. A shattered mirror of my former self, merely an eater of pain. \n\nIn my dreams, I can still see myself as a child beneath the night sky, watching the stars blink in and out of focus, excitement and want dancing behind wide eyes, only this time, there’s a voice in the sky, in my head, in the universe, whispering *if you want me, then you’ll just have to become a part of me,* and somehow, it sounds like a warning. \n\nThat’s when I wake, and for a moment I can pretend that I’m under the warm covers of my bed, waiting for my mom to yell at me from outside my bedroom door and remind me that I’m going to be late for school if I don’t hurry up. But the dream only lasts for a second, and then I’m once more surrounded by limitless, desolate emptiness. And this time, there are no voices. \n\nThis time, there is only sky and stars and rock and numb crawling thoughts. \n\nThis time, like all other times before, there is only the endless, dark void. \n\n—\n\n/r/itrytowrite",
"What has it been now… months? Since that moment when I saw that little tear on the tether. When I thought it was just a scratch on the paint and it wasn’t much. When I took that dehydrated food with a smile and told my companions I’d finish the maintenance in no more than 15 minutes tops. When that tear grew and before I could react, it had completely broken off and I was sent drifting ever so slowly out into the deep void.\n\nIf I had been just a centimetre closer, my fingers wouldn’t have brushed off the handlebar, and I wouldn’t have been stuck just out of reach, as if I was being pulled away from the panicked faces of my colleagues. I saw them trying to hurry to put on a suit, trying to tether themselves in a rush to jump out and try and catch me before the inevitable, but it was already too late. I felt the cold lethargy of panic take over every fiver of my being. I knew I was done for.\n\nWhen a few long minutes later I saw the ice eating away at my suit, I almost felt relief, it would finally be over. Minute after minute, I felt the air from my tanks get thinner, I saw the ice grow thicker from my breath as it began deforming my helmet. When the crack broke the glass and all the air flew out, I was happy. Sure I’d suffocate, but it’d be over! But the worse was yet to come. \n\nStill to this day the frozen tears remain floating around my head from when I noticed that my life didn’t flash. No air at all could leave my lungs but only a slight pain remains. Like a muscle that stayed inactive too long. It’s been a few months since I’ve taken a breath, but I’ve still to see the light from the tunnel. My skin is dotted with ice patches, my throat empty and sore, and my mind on fire. \n\nFor months I’ve been drifting, I’ve tried to move I’ve tried to swim I’ve tried to scream I’ve even tried to kill myself but nothing’s ever worked. Still, I’m here. In the beginning I counted the days by listening to when my radio would pick up the station passing by, but then it ran out and I left the range. \n\nThe earth is still the biggest thing in view but becoming so small. All I’ve got left are thought and pain, a subtle underlying pain, just enough to keep you awake and uncomfortable. Though maybe it’s just my mind. What pain should I feel from a body that refuses death. I’ve no hope.\n\nLately I’ve found a hobby. I tried talking to myself but no sound doesn’t help, so I’ve kept thinking, and I found comfort in imagining when my journey would end. Will I finally slow and fall back to earth like a mediocre asteroid? Will I cross path with the moon so far and crash to it, leaving my body near a frozen flag? Or will I drift towards the sun, missing all planets and rocks on the way, heating until all that’s left is dust in the void? My greatest fear is that neither of those would be enough and I’d still be awake… or maybe I’ll just drift towards… the rest… the nothing. A conscience searching death till the end of time, suicidal satellite on a quest to anywhere. Until I’ve forgotten what light is and where used to be my home.\n\nWhat has it been now… years?",
"Weightless.\n\nAimless.\n\nClueless.\n\nBut somehow, still alive.\n\nThis made no sense. You have learnt about what happens to astronauts who break away from their ships. They run out of oxygen, and succumb to the void. It should have taken a few hours for you to reach that state.\n\nBut you survived. And you do not know how.\n\nIt has been days since the incident. You think about the choices you made that lead to this moment. You have always loved space, so when the opportunity presented itself to become an astronaut, you seized it. Carpe diem, right?\n\nYou wonder if this was worth it. You wonder if your life was worth it.\n\nYou lived an ordinary life. Met the love of your life, raised children, pursued your dreams. But what are dreams to someone hurtling through the endless, infinite emptiness of space?\n\nIt has been days since the incident. But what is a day, if not the rotation of your planet around its axis, a planet which you have no hope of returning to?\n\nYou are alone with your thoughts. You ponder the meaning of life. You think about death. You have never feared death, as you believe that it is what gives life meaning.\n\nBut it has been days since the incident, and you are still alive.\n\nYou look at the pinpricks of light around you. Stars, each of which host planets. Those planets could be suitable for life. You might not be alone. But you have never felt this alone.\n\nEventually, you close your eyes.\n\nDarkness.\n\nSilence.\n\nEmptiness.\n\nYou think you are still alive."
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[WP] Whenever you sneeze, the nearest goose lays a golden egg. You've managed to keep it a secret, surprising the odd farmer here and there. But people are beginning to get ideas.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I wake up in the morning and started yawning when I got the sudden sensation to sneeze.When I sneezed,I saw a goose walking by the windows.The goose started laying egg.I then thought that it was trick of the light(or morning sun that is),that I was not really seeing a goose lay a egg with a golden spark.I walked slowly towards the egg,so that Goose is unaware of my presence.I checked the strength of the egg by poking needle into it. It really was an golden egg.\n\nI then decided to keep this fact to myself. When I was working in the farm afternoon a week later,a wind gust picked up some dust and pushed it towards me.I covered my face but it was too late.I started sneezing again.The goose in the neighborhood started laying an egg,but it too was no ordinary egg.Then I thought that it was no coincidence that goose started laying golden egg whenever I sneezed.\n\nI was shocked at this realization and a thought also struck that it was dangerous for me for this to spill out,due to various reasons.I just acted naturally.Whenever I sneezed,I would find the nearest golden egg in my farm and hid the neighbor's egg in their farm.This was a bad plan.When the neighbors found a stash of golden eggs beneath their backyard,they immediately checked their geese and chickens for any golden eggs but didn't find any.\n\nThe news about a family finding golden egg beneath their barn spread like wildfire.Many from far away places started to arrive to our hometown,a small hamlet in the countryside.",
" I discovered that whenever I sneeze the nearest goose would lay a golden egg on a school trip to the zoo. It was springtime and I have allergies, and as we were passing by the birds I was hit with a sneezing fit. A nearby goose suddenly squawked loudy and there it was - a golden egg glistening in the sunshine. No one knew why it happened and our teacher quickly hurried us out the gate and back onto the bus due to the commotion it caused. \n\nYears later I bought a house in a rural area surrounded by farms. I preferred the quiet here, the noise of the city was too harsh for me to deal with. I had long forgotten about the egg incident at the zoo until the day I decided to take a walk into town shortly after moving in - it wasn't very far. Unbeknown to me the neighbor had a flock of geese in their yard and wouldn't you know it, I sneezed. I heard a loud squawk from the goose closest to me and saw the flash of gold laying on the lawn. I hurried on my way and picked up my groceries in town. On the way back I noticed the neighbor out in the yard - he was very excited and in his hand was the egg. \n\n\"Would you look at this!\" he exclaimed \"One of my geese just laid this!\" I looked at the egg and replied \"That sure is something. Does it happen often?\" He replied that he'd never seen it happen before... and as he was talking to me it happened. I sneezed again. SQUAWK! And suddenly another golden egg. I apologized and excused myself, hurrying back home - but I noticed the neighbor staring at me with a strange look on his face. A few days later he and his wife invited me to dinner at their house. I had my misgivings, but I wanted to be neighborly so I went. Just to be on the safe side I took some antihistamine before I left. The meal was uneventful but pleasant and I stayed and visited with them for a few hours, but then I felt it. That tickle in my nose. The antihistamine was wearing off. I tried to excuse myself and leave quickly but at the door while saying goodbye it happened. I sneezed and we heard the squawk. The neighbor got a funny look on his face and went to check out the goose. I left in a hurry.\n\nThe very next day there was a knock at my door and when I opened it, there was the neighbor. He had a goose under one arm and a container of pepper in his other hand. Before I could say anything, he shook the pepper in my direction and I began to sneeze violently. The poor goose was squawking like crazy, golden eggs falling to the ground everywhere. He released the goose and gathered the eggs excitedly and then yelled thank you over his shoulder as he ran away with them.\n\nAfter that the harassment became endless. I can't leave my house anymore because word has gotten out. Suddenly half the town had pet geese and had taken to carrying cans of pepper on them. If someone spotted me a crowd would form and the pepper would rain down while they thrust their geese toward me to get a gold egg. I had considered moving away but they had people watching the house and waiting for me to step outside. \n\nI tried to move in the middle of the night but I was caught by one of the townspeople. Since then I've been locked up in the guys basement along with several geese. Every day he comes down and brings me food, and as always a shaker of pepper. \n\nI miss living in the city.",
"A sunny day in the country. The sky blue and cloud-streaked. And the air smells of hay and cattle and poultry and...pepper? I don't actually know how pepper is grown. I presume that it grows on shrubs, but I'm talking about black pepper here, so...*Aachhawww!*\n\nThe sneezes come in fits and one is followed by several more. I heard the familiar cackle of geese all around me. Mr. Wilson's grounds, his ponds, his geese.\n\nI walked into the wooden outhouse they have on the side of the road. The door was closed. I knocked.\n\nRoland Winters, the head farmer/manager of farm personnel opened the door. His haggard old face lit up. The peppery smell was stronger here.\n\n\"Planning on pepper farming, Mr. Winters?\"\n\nMr. Winters's face fell into loose folds and resolved itself into a solemn frown. \"No. Whatever gave you the idea. No, we're not.\"\n\n\"Then what's with the peppery smell around here?\"\n\n\"What pepper?\" He raised his face and sniffed the air like a dog. \"I don't smell no peppers.\"\n\nMeanwhile an intense peppery smell emanated from his room. The smell was so peppery that it seemed more like an imitation of pepper than anything else, like pepper spray, only less chemical or artificial.\n\n\"But there's a smell right here...I can smell it.\"\n\nMr. Winters scowled and crossed his arms. \"Well, I can't.\"\n\n\"Maybe it's because there's a stronger smell coming from inside your room Mr. Winters,\" I suggested.\n\n\"You ought to get your nose checked Mr. Chambers. Now, if you'll excuse me I have to arrange feed for the geese and the dealer said that I should phone him about now.\"\n\nHe didn't check the time on his non-existent wristwatch.\n\n\"Do you have a handkerchief?\"\n\n\"No,\" Mr. Winters said and bid me farewell.\n\nSo my house is near the farms of Mr. Wilson and really there's no need of excessive grooming here in the country where nobody is really expected to bump into you without any prior arrangements, and taking all that into consideration I wiped my nose on the back of my shirtsleeve which then glistened golden in the setting sun.\n\nIn front of my house, a humble cottage, I found a group of five farmers. I didn't recognize any of them. They had with themselves flowerpots with the biggest flowers I had ever seen.\n\n\"This is for you,\" said a fat, balding farmer in overalls.\n\n\"All of these flowers?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"If you don't mind my asking, why?\"\n\n\"A gesture from...neighbors.\"\n\n\"Neighbors?\"\n\n\"We're from B---- county. You know-\"\n\n\"That's ten miles away!\"\n\n\"That's how it goes in the country.\"\n\nAn evening breeze buffeted us. My nose started twitching and *aachhaawwww...aacchhawwww...* then the familiar cackle of geese nearby. It came from the pickup truck parked in my driveway.\n\n\"You..Yours?\" I asked as I wiped away the tears and caught my breath.\n\n\"Yes,\" the farmer replied and bade me farewell and good health.\n\nI stared at the flowerpots. All the flowers were surprisingly pollen-abundant. I hurled them away as far as I could into the shrubs behind my cottage."
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[WP] Your hotel was running a murder mystery weekend until one of the guests was actually murdered. Now you have a hotel full of obsessed crime buffs who all want to be the one to solve the murder. And they won’t let anything, including the police or the fact one of the it group did it, stops them
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Delightful,\" Gregory had his pipe positioned squarely in his mouth as he knelt by the corpse. \"Yes, yes. You can see precisely three small wounds to the gut. It is a rudimentary deduction to call this a knife stabbing.\" Gregory was wearing a tailed suit with an over-the-top top hat. His build was slim and tall, and the mustache above his nose was said to be the bushiest and fullest in all of north London. \n\n\"Greg darling, you're being quite stupid.\" Fiona was wearing a delightfully bright red dress to go with her red lipstick and red shoulder-length curled hair. \"Those could also be caused from gorging, maybe from a fire prod or decorative spear.\" Her face the sly look of a fox that enjoyed hunting big game. \n\n\"G-guys can we just w-wait on the p-p-police?\" Ricardo, the meek hotel owner whose stomach was already queasy from the scene. \"I-I don't think w-we should t-touch anything.\" His voice sounded softer than silk but had an awful stutter to it.\n\n\"Bullshit!\" That's Big Bama, a rotund man whose cowboy hat almost matched his waste line. \"You tell me anything a cop done that was worth a damn!\" His voice was always two notches above everyone else.\n\n\"Uh... W-well, they do s-solve a lot of r-real m-murders...\" Ricardo was nervously rubbing his hands and trying to let everyone know that this was a bad idea without falling apart do to the attention. He suffered from horrible social anxiety and would've preferred to stay in his office if they weren't so short staffed today. \"Hey... I have an idea! L-let's go s-see if it s-stopped r-raining yet, doesn't that sound f-fun?\" \n\n\"Fun my boy!\" Gregory hopped up from ground and began waving his hands around like he was giving a sermon. \"Fun you say! I'll tell you fun, fun is finding whatever scoundrel rapscallion put this poor man into an early grave! That is fun my boy!\"\n\n\"Strange...\" Fiona waltzed over to Ricardo and slowly circled him as she puffed on her long French cigarette. \"Why you you wan't to leave so bad Ricky?\" She puffed a cloud of white smoke into his face.\n\n\"W-what do you m-mean...\"\n\n\"Well, it seems a little weird that you want to leave so fast, maybe you have something to hide?\"\n\n\"H-hide... W-what to hide? T-this is my h-hotel?\"\n\n\"Aha!\" Big Bama boomed. \"Well if that ain't the perfect crime! Hotel owner turned murder maniac. I bet you was as busy as a cat on a tin roof setting up this murder!\n\n\"W-what does that mean?\"\n\n\"Nonsense!\" Gregory slid up in front of big Bama and puffed heavily on his wooden pipe. \"You think this small mouse could slay a man? Blasphemy!\" \n\n\"Gregory darling please,\" Fiona laid one of her perfectly manicured claws on Gregory's shoulder. \"The badger does sometime manage to kill the bear.\"\n\n\"W-wha... I don't u-understand...\"\n\n\"Well what the hell are we going to do with the boy? Should I hogtie him for the police?\"\n\nFiona gave a ferocious smile. \"Hmmm, maybe we could hang him over the roof, make him admit it to us that he done it? That way when the police arrive all of the work will already be done.\"\n\n\"G-guys w-what are you t-talking a-about... H-he was my e-employ why would I k-kill h-h-him?\" Ricardo was starting to panic, sweat was dripping his brow and his hands were shaking like leaves. \n\n\"Boyo the evidence does seem quiet damming.\" Gregory was tapping his foot while thinking. \"It seems that would be our best move, threaten him on the roof until he ad--.\" \n\n*Buuuuuuuurrrrrrpppp.* \n\n\"Godamn who let out that blaster?\" Bama was looking around the room at his companions. \"Was that the miss? I'll be damned that could've killed a cow!\"\n\n\"It wasn't me you pig,\" She replied while lightly slapping him across the shoulder.\n\nGregory's eyes went wide. \"By joe it was the corpse! Some rigor mortis maybe!\"\n\n\"W-wha... H-he's alive?\" \n\n*ugggggggghhhhhhhh*\n\nBig Bama ran around and tried to hide his massive figure behind Fiona. \"Good God and Christ almighty it is one of those zombie things!\"\n\n\"Did you not check his breathing when you bent down to see him?\" Fiona asked Gregory.\n\n\"W-well I assure you that I checked all of his vitals and blood wo--\"\n\n\"Fuuuuck meee, I shouldn't have drank that much last night.\" The corpse unsteadily rose to it's feet, sending the whole crowd running backwards in fear. \"What's going on -- *buuuurrrpp* \\-- here?\"\n\nEveryone was hiding behind Gregory, who was only the shield because he had to re-light his pipe. \"I do say my young man, are you not deceased?\" \n\n\"Deceased? Ahhhhh shiiit did I spoil it? I had to fill in for Tony on being the corpse for tonight's mystery. He's sick and I was the only other one available, but I might've drank a -- *buurrrpp* \\-- bit too much before coming over.\"\n\n\"... So you're weren't actually murdered?\" \n\n\"What? Hell no!\" The young man saw Ricardo and his eyes went wide. \"Oh boss! I'm so sorry boss, I was supposed to tell you I was filling in tonight but I was... Ah shit I -- *buuurrrpp...* Man am I fired?\"\n\nAll of the crew turned around to face Ricardo with nervous eyes. His face was red with fury and anger. \"GET OUT OF MY HOTEL AT ONCE YOU ANIMALS.\" He chased them out the front door as they ran, waving a fire prod in the air as he did. \"DON'T YOU EVER COME BACK HERE AGAIN. YOU BAFOONS!\"\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nIf you enjoyed check out my subreddit! r/mrsharks202"
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[WP] a character that is linked to an apple an has to protect it with there life constantly or they could literally be eaten alive
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"You ever heard the phrase,\" \"An apple a day keeps the doctor away?\" \"Yeah.\" My friend responded. \"Well for me, it's the opposite.\" As i said that, i lay back on the couch feeling so defeated. This virus has done some terrible things to people, terrible things. It came as no surprise that people were looking into multiple ways to protect themselves from it. I was one of them. Me being a regular surfer of the dark web, you tend to see and hear things. Secrets that humanity honestly is not ready for. \"I made a terrible mistake, and now, now i regret it.\"\n\n\" I saw a post somewhere where someone had claim to discover the cure all in a form of an apple.\" \"So you bought the apple?\" Ask my friend. \"As a joke.\" I retorted in a solemn tone. I should have known something was wrong when i first made contact with this cursed thing. The next morning i felt so much better than the day before. And ever since, i always felt like that. Well rested, energetic, no physical pains and or ailment, excellent memorization. I didn't mind it. What a human wouldn't want what i currently have.\n\n\"I wouldn't wish this fate on anybody. Every doctor in the country is after me.\" \"Why?\" Ask my curious friend. \"Maybe it was my fault, i should have been more vigilant. I was suppose to be dead you know. A hit a run. I flew as a high as kite in the sky, while the driver drove away faster than a speedy bullet. When i came back down to earth. I was fine. Just.....completely fine. The people who were there saw. Their faces. Oh god their faces.\" I buried my face into my hands.\n\n\"So your invincible.\" My friend mundanely Stated. \"Must you say so causally?\" I jabbed at him with a tone of disgust. \"I mean, why not. It's a cool power to have.\" He replied. \"Don't you get it?\" I snap. I could feel all my frustrations that i had bottled up inside slowly rises up and spewing out. \"Suddenly, I achieved superstar status! Everyone wanted to know my secret! My family, my friends who i thought i had, strangers, doctors. Oh, don't get me STARTED!\" My angry tirade begins. \"I'm listening.\" My friend stated.\n\n\"Do you, have any idea how many doctors wanted to cut me open to find out my secret!? DO YOU!?\" My friend stared with a blank expression. \" I've lost sleep due to paranoia, I have to hide every and anywhere i go! I'm losing my grip on my sanity! AND IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF THAT STUPID-\" I stopped myself mid sentence. A moment of silence befell between the two of us.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" I asked hesitantly. \"What?\" My friend asked with his mouth full. \"I was hungry.\" He took another hard bite of the apple. 80% of it was already gone. My eyes widen in horror. \"Why, WHY!?\" I screamed in disbelief. \"Because I'm hungry.\" He stated again with his mouth full apple bits, appearing annoyed. I Jolted as i was hit with a sudden sharp pain. I look down and saw a huge chunk of my leg was gone. As it if it was bitten off by a huge shark. Then there was another jolt of pain. One after another as my body began to vanish bit by bit simultaneously. Leaving behind huge bite marks of what used to be there.\n\n\"WHY!?\" I could only scream as the pain was too much. \"WHY, WHY, WHY!? I continued until finally, there nothing left of me. \"That was pretty good.\" My friend stated. He tossed the apple core into trash can. \"Buckets\". He whispered with glee. \"Whelp, time to get to work.\" As he got up, he begins to make his way to his room. He stops, noticing an untouched, crispy apple on the counter top. He grabs it, admiring it's beauty and takes it. Unbeknownst to him however, he had stub his toe upon making contact with the apple, but felt no pain in the process.\n\nThe door bell rings and a frantic knocking follow suite. \"HEY! HEY! Open up! Please!\" He casually walk to the door to open it, taking the apple with him. He opens the door, but no one was there. The door closes behind him and locks itself. A sudden fear into his soul, so he turns and knocks franticly. \"HEY! HEY! Open up! Please!\" The door suddenly opens. \"Oh thank goodness. Let me in quick, you have to hide me.\" The cycle begins again."
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[WP] "So, you're an alien?" They shake their head. "No, I'm from Texas."
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"“So you’re an alien?”\n\nThey shake their head. “No, I’m from Texas.”\n\n“But your skin is-“\n\n“Blue. My eyes are yellow. My teeth sharp. But I’m not an alien. I’m a Terran, third generation.”\n\n“Oh an immigrant.” \n\n“Exactly.” They agree. “I may not be Human, but I’m just as much a citizen of this world as you are.”\n\n“Well I’m sorry, I’ve just never met an al- a non Human before.”\n\nThey chuckle. “I’m not angry. We’re still a rare sight, but as time goes on there’ll be more of us.”\n\n“What species? If it’s not rude to ask.”\n\n“Telarin, we originate from the Telar system some several hundred light years from Earth.”\n\n“Huh. Well it was a pleasure talking to you.”\n\n“Likewise.” They grin. “I wish all my interactions with Humans were this polite.”"
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[WP]Among heroes, you are known as the call that can wait. You rob banks, steal artworks, deface buildings, the likes. Among villains, you are to be left alone under any circumstances. Somebody didn't get the memo, and now they're paying for it, with interest.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/writingprompts)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The man simply known as Skull looked down upon the city that the longed to take control of. For years, he had plotted all sorts of ways to take over the city and had always been defeated by the various superheroes who lived there. He could have moved on, but it was personal for him now. He wanted this city, and he was a man who would not take no for an answer.\n\nBut he had a new plan, one he hoped would bring about success. He decided to think on a smaller scale, instead of going for the whole city, he now would target a single neighborhood. But he had to think strategically. Take down the one who’s superhero would be the easiest to defeat. A map of the city with the neighborhoods ripe for the taking outlined sat upon the wall. \n\n“Skull, said a henchman who was looking at the map, “I just discovered something! The southeast corner! It’s got no superheroes protecting it! We could take that part of town real easily.”\n\n“No!” Skull bellowed. “I refuse to touch it!”\n\n“But sir, why?”\n\n“That’s the Earthworm’s territory.”\n\n“The Earthworm, huh. Is he some new superhero who I don’t know about?”\n\n“No.”\n\n“Some sort of deadly supervillain, maybe?”\n\n“No.”\n\n“Who is he then?”\n\nSkull sighed. “He’s little more than a petty thief and vandal. But I have no interest in crossing him.”\n\n“Why’s that. Sounds pretty easy to cross.”\n\n“No! When I was new to this city, I attacked him once. Biggest mistake I ever made. I never want to go within a mile of him again.”\n\n“Is he super powerful or something?”\n\n“Not exactly. He splits into two when you kill him. That’s why they call him the Earthworm. Sure, you can beat him in a fight and make him suffer, but there are consequences.”\n\n“Like what?’\n\nSkull remained silent.\n\n“I said like what, boss?”\n\n“I don’t want to talk about it. We’re NOT going anywhere near the southeast corner, and that’s final!”\n\nLater, after the henchman had gone, Skull sighed and opened up one of the drawers of his desk. In it was a newspaper from years ago. The headline: “Supervillain known as the Skull really former ballet dancer Herman Shatz.” Between the former career, the name, and the fact that it had been sent to all of the biggest newspapers in town who verified that the story was, in fact, true, it had made Skull the laughing stock of the supervillain community for years. Skull looked over it, once again pondering just how the information had gotten to the media. He knew the Earthworm had been behind it. But he never had known just how. Or why he could never seem to figure out who the Earthworm really was, or find out anything about him. For a man who had failed many times, trying to take down this small time crook, and failing, had been his greatest failure.\n\nBut of course, I knew exactly what had happened. I remembered what happened when he caught me stealing from one of art galleries and thought he could defeat me. When he couldn’t kill me, he was sure to make sure I wished I was dead. But I had the last laugh. Not only had I made sure to leak his secret to all of the major news outlets, as I’d done to the secrets of many who’d wronged me in the past, but I didn’t give them the whole truth. There were plenty more embarrassing facts about Skull. And he knew if he crossed me again, I’d release another one.\n\nHe never quite realized why they call my the Earthworm. Because I have the dirt on everyone.\n\nFeedback welcome.",
"The buzzing of my phone woke me up. The one I used to communicate with the heroes. \n Ugh. *I'm outside. We need to talk. -Bloodhound.*\n\nStifling the urge to kill him was second nature. Very few of my impulses were under my control, but at least I'd learned to keep a handle on the worst of them.\n\nWithout drawing on even the tiniest part of my power reserves, I materialized a clone at the door to check out my visitor. While I was muzzily rubbing my eyes in bed, trying to shake my sprawled limbs into working order, I was also just outside my apartment, fully dressed and completely alert.\n\n\"Bloodhound? What the fudge, man? You gotta know waking me up\" - I spun up a new clone in the kitchen to check the time, then dismissed it instantly -\" at seven in the morning is about the dumbest thing you could do. You got a death wish?\"\n\n\"Had a Death Wish,\" he replied in that gravelly voice of his, the one that I'd seen stop hardened criminals in their tracks when they heard it hissing from the shadows of a dark alleyway. \"You saw that nasty business the other week. Maniac took a kid hostage, and, well... I just tried to disable him, but the stress of the situation got to me. Accidentally shot the bastard dead.\" Beneath his dog mask, the lower half of his jowly face twisted into a smirk that'd fit more on a ten year old boy who'd snuck a frog into his teacher's desk drawer than on a middle-aged superhero. \"No more Death Wish.\"\n\nIn addition to the preternatural sense of smell that gave the grizzled old sleuth his codename, Bloodhound also had enhanced vision, reflexes and coordination. If he'd killed that low rent villain, it had been fully intentional. Lethal force was very much frowned upon by the United Defenders when there was another way to resolve things, especially since Bloodhound had long since proven to be a dab hand at deescalating much hairier situations. To me, however, Bloodhound's penchant for skirting the rules was why I liked the guy enough to let him be the go-between for me and the UD.\n\nWithout my conscious direction, three mes had appeared around him, opening up the compartments of his utility belt, toying idly with the gadgets they (I? we?) found inside. I'd simply been wondering what new stuff he might be taking in the field with him lately, and they'd materialized automatically to follow through on that thought. With practiced stoicism, he simply lifted his arms to give me easier access.\n\nBehind us, my door swung open to let the hero inside. While the me I'd had talking to him vanished, fading from reality like a puddle drying up on a hot sidewalk, two others had been undoing the door chain and unlocking the deadbolt. I stood those two bodies aside with a theatrical arm flourish as he entered, and handed him back his gear using the other three bodies. All five were dismissed immediately after.\n\n\"In all seriousness, I am sorry to disturb you, Fractal, but we have a problem. An emergency.\" He remained standing in the foyer, projecting his voice to my room where his augmented senses could pinpoint the location of my \"main\" body. We'd been through this routine enough that he knew he could pick up the thread with any me that hadn't been present at the start of a conversation; all my minds and all my memories are fungible that way.\n\nBloodhound filled me in on the UD's latest skirmish with an up-and-coming supervillain looking to add our city to their growing territory. Apparently, there was a fairly epic battle going on just blocks away. Miss Independent and Cavalcade were duking it out with a giant robot the villain had unleashed while Pilgrim Mage used her portals to assist with a hasty evacuation of civilians. The best soundproofing money could buy kept all the chaos outside. Unless the action had moved much closer, I doubt I would have woken up at all.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nEnd Part 1. I know it's not really a great stopping place, but this is the most I've pushed out all at once basically ever. I love the concept and have some idea where to go but I'm totally beat for right now.",
"\"It's good to be bad.\"\n\nI can't remember where, or who, those words had come from. But in my long and prosperous career, those words had become something to live by. With every bank I strode into, every car I blatantly stole in broad daylight, every single piece of art taken, I became more and more sure of the path I was taking. Enamored with and enabled by the world in which I could commit to any desire I chose, all for one simple reason. \n\nAny crime I committed would be the worst the world would experience that day. Any that would try, say murder when I only stole a bike that day, would find themselves unable and unwilling to go through with it. Any methods used during the crime turn into requirements as well. No guns during a bank job means that noone could bring firepower of any kind. Since I don't use tools and usually walk right in and ask for my money, that means that even the robberies that day are almost impossible to complete.\n\nAnd so, at least in my lifetime of \"Villainy\", most major crimes vanished. Because of my power of \"A Necessary Evil.\"\n\nIn a world where the crimes were mostly mundane and easy enough for the heroes to arrive and solve, I was always left alone for fear of the days past. Where any megalomaniac with enough cash or vengeance in their heart could decide to be the next Captain Destructio, or a two bit thief falls into something convenient and they experience a lucrative career shift to villainy after manifesting an ability that puts him on par with an atomic missile.\n \nSo the world let me be.\n\nI'd have been worried about said Villains holding a grudge and coming after me somehow, unable to achieve their goals and finding a new purpose in my downfall. It was sort of a baseless fear, as long as I didn't commit murder then neither could anyone else, but that fear was the only thing still somewhat keeping me on my toes. Heroes were simple enough, they knew the drill and any excuse for a continued peaceful existence was good enough for them.\n\nBut a Villain is someone who chose desire over justice. That craving, that strive for their goals, will cause them to turn over every rock. They take the slights against them and let it become their everything. Devoting every moment and resource just to see your downfall.\n\nAnd today, my fear is realized.\n\nIt was the same bank I would heist every other Monday, specifically because there was a guy named Greg there who was a shithead in high-school, and him handing over the comically large money bags I brought with me full of legal tender was always a highlight of my week.\n\nWhen I left, I'd stopped to bask in the usual stares and whispers of the (adoring) public, only to come face to face with a old and unpleasant man. It was crinkled in the sunlight, pale skin glistening with sweat as he heaved breath after breath. Few strands of hair clung to his scalp, graying from the red it had once been.\n\nJerry Kingstrom, AKA The Mishappening. His power was one of unfortune, causing mishaps ranging from the small to the large. An old stage magician turned unintentional supervillain after finding out his power was the reason all of his equipment kept breaking down, assistants getting injured, and a multitude of other accidents. No one ever really died, but the resulting lawsuits and such drove the man to a life of crime. If one could say that heroes constantly thwarting him with next to no trouble was a life of crime.\n\nIn every way, this man was my opposite. Everything I chose to do was deliberate, done with precision, validated by the masses and possessed a perfect crimerate of 100% success. \n\nJerry was a blundering old relic, clinging to a past that wasn't ever really that glorious, accidentally stumbling into whatever success came in his career. Blaming me for the end of an \"era\" in our history.\n\nBut it was the fact his powers were based on chance that gave this man the best and only way to beat me. It was a baseless conclusion, but every other that came before always dealt in the deliberate.\n\nThat moment of wonder, of me staring and trying to figure out his motives were all it took. \n\nSo when I felt my foot catch on a divet in the pavement and fell towards the speeding traffic ahead of me, I took one last glance back at the man that would be the death of me. He was smiling of course, smug bitch that he was, after putting an end to his careers supposed killer. He hadn't pushed me, merely stood by and trusted that the rest would fall into place.\n\nThe impact came, bones shattered, flesh rending against unforgiving metal. Blood choking the air from my lungs, ragdolling to a stop amidst screeching tires.\n\nThe laughter.\n\nThe laughter somehow was the loudest.\n\nI could see him, through darkened vision, going off like the maniac he was. And what for?\n\nBecause he was going to kill me?\n\nBecause the peace would soon be broken?\n\nBecause my body lying there was just that funny?\n\nHe turned to leave, no doubt wary of the heroes that were arriving. I could see the flashes of cameras and phones, probably trying to catch my last moments in fine detail for the papers later.\n\nAnd once I drew my last breath, I saw no more.\n\nBut you know, even if unintentionally, my death was still the result of a crime. And as by the rules I've worked out with \"A Necessary Evil\" then. \n\nThe flashes grew more intense.\n\nThe gasps fueled me further.\n\nThe grin on my face when I walked up to my would be killer and continued right past him.\n\nThe sounds of The Mishappening's screams of agitation suddenly silenced by the screeching of a second vehicle hitting him at full force was just the icing on the cake.",
"\\*quick note - sorry for the terrible spelling and grammar\\*\n\nI finished the last of the donut and lazily kept my gaze across the road at the central bank. Main entrance with heavy, old fashioned wood doors, double glazed windows reinforced with iron bars and a side alley leading to the opposite block..standard stuff.\n\nI reached the usual conclusion of 'fuck it' in the time it took me to finish licking the last of the sugar of my fingers and standing from the bench across the street with an exaggerated grunt of effort.\n\nI honestly don't know why I bother anymore, no one even fights back and it's not like I'm short of money, I've got everything I ever need. But it gets me out of the house, which is a valuable enough reason during the 'rona.\n\nI saunter across the road and push both doors open theatrically with a bang. A few heads turn to me.\n\n\"Alright people this is a robbery, no screaming, no fuss. Just give me the money and I leave. Simple enough.\" I state boredly\n\nThe cashier, a young blonde in her 20s screams and reaches for something under the desk. Probably the alarm. I cast a withering look towards her and her eye lids seem to get heavier and she immediately calms into a trance like state.\n\n\"Ok Lisa, that was a bit silly wasn't it? I just told you what not to do, were you even listening?\" I ask, knowing full well she can't reply other than a robotic nod.\n\nFor the last 30 seconds an overweight security guard has been \"subtly\" sneaking up on me with a taser in his hand. I let out a disappointed sigh and just say \"no\", he immediately drops the taser and his heads turns downward like a sulking childs.\n\n\"C'mon then Lisa, hurry up\" I say whilst rotating my hand in a hurry up motion. My powers seemed to throw up the name Lisa, but upon closer look at her name tag I can see it's actually Linda. Damn, my powers were getting a bit rusty through lazyness.\n\nBut to be fair, this must be the only woman called Linda under the age of 40.\n\n\"FREEZE FOUL VILLAIN!\"\n\nMy Linda/Lisa conundrum will have to wait evidently. I turn around and stair at some superman wannabe, cape fluttering behind him. I just look him up and down unimpressed and confused.\n\n\"Who are you meant to be?\" I ask monotonely\n\nHe almost looked hurt that I had to ask. \"I am CAPTAIN JUSTIICE!!\" assuming some 'heroic' pose whilst declaring it.\n\nI bet he can hear the superman theme in his head while saying that, the idiot.\n\n\"Alright cool, well go stand next to...Bob the security guard while I get the money alright.\" I point over to the sad guard from earlier then turn back to the cashier. Who was scooping money into a bag.\n\n\"Where we at with the money Lis-Linda?\"\n\n\"HO HO HO, NO CAN DO RETCHED VILLAIN. YOU WILL LEAVE AT ONCE\" boomed captain Justice whilst wagging a finger dismissively\n\nI look back round with eye brow raised. \"You're new here aren't you?\"\n\n\"Y-YES, I'VE COME FROM MY HOME WORLD TO DEFEAT SCUM AND BRING J-\"\n\n\"Let me guess..Justice\" I cut him off \"Look, the thing is, people like you know better than to mess with me.\n\nCpt Justice laughed derisively \"OH I'M TERRIFIED. WHAT MAKES YOU SO SPECIAL THEN HUH?\"\n\n\"Don't you think it's weird that here, in Central City in Central Bank, 1 mile from the Hero Leagues HQ and Police HQ, no one has come to stop me..other than you?\" I ask\n\nHe considered this for a second \"WELL UH I GUESS MY THIRST FOR JUSTICE IS JUST GREATER, I'M SURE THEY'RE BUSY!\" he reassured himself\n\n\"I mean, I don't even have a gun. I don't have a mask and no one here has tried to stop me and I'm clearly not afraid of you. Doesn't this all strike you as a situation where you're missing something? I'm telling you mate, just let it go\" I state matter of factly. Then my face darkens \"or I'll fucking erase you\"\n\nA tense silence ensued \"I'LL GRANT YOU THIS, YOU HAVE GUTS KID. BUT CAPTAIN JUSTICE CAN'T JUST IDLY SIT BY WHILST CRIME TAKES PLACE. TAKE THIS!\" his eyes start to glow and wind begins swirling around him\n\nI tsk irritably, referring to yourself in the third person really pisses me off. I'm going to enjoy this.\n\nI point at the Captains eyes and they stop glowing. Then I click my fingers.\n\nHe looks around and checks himself then lets out a relieved chuckle \"SORRY TO BURST YOUR BUBBLE CHIEF. BUT YOUR LITTLE TRICKS SEEM TO HAVE FAILED YOU, NOTHING HAPPENED! ISN'T THAT RIGHT CIVILIAN?\" he says while patting a civilian on the back\n\nNothing happened. The civilian didn't even move, blink or acknowledge him. The civilians clothes didn't even move where the Captain patted him on the back.\n\nThe captains brow furrowed. And he waved a hand in front of the civilians face. Nothing.\n\nHe walked around trying to shake others and shot a lazer beam out of his eyes at me. They just passed through with no effect.\n\n\"WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE?\" the captain asked, now with less bravado and more panic tinging his voice\n\nI hefted the bag out of money out of Linda's hands and looked round as if just remembering he was there. \"I told you...I've erased you. As far as anyone here or in the world's concerned. You don't exist. You can't speak, touch or be seen by anyone or anything. I've taken away the one thing you superheroes truly value, other peoples attention\"\n\n\"B-BUT THIS IS CRUEL. YOU CAN'T DO THIS, AFRAID TO FIGHT FAIR I SEE, TYPICAL VILLAIN.\" He boomed confidently...then saw my face darken again and revised to \"PLEASE TAKE IT BACK\"\n\n\"No. Remember Green Torch? Ferrari Man, Volcano fist or Boomerang Lad? No only the Hero League does and me. They were the last people to fuck with me and now they'll never be seen again. Just like you.\" I utter as I walk around him and out the door\n\n\"B-BUT WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW?\" asking more to himself than me\n\n\"The others I just said have a support group down by 49th. I suggest go hanging out with them. Or go back to your homeworld. My powers don't work that far away unless I really try. And I leave, round the corner and drop the cash in the bin.\n\nStaring at my watch, 'huh 40 minutes, got my steps in for the day I guess. Now I can watch youtube all day guilt free'."
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