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As requested by /u/dandroid	[WP] Write the script for a show called, "Totally Fucking True Science with Neil Degrasse Tyson."	[ "Happy Childish song plays on PBS, following a disclaimer: Do Not Attempt to Sue the Producers, It's Your Fault Your Child Is Watching This Fucked Up Show. Kids: Try ALL of These At Home.\n\nHost: Hey kids, welcome the fuck back to Totally Fucking True Science, I'm your host Neil Degrasse Tyson, but please, Call me Professor T! Today we'll be fuckin' around with turning a solid into a God Damned liquid, a'ight? Here we go!\n \nNeil pulls down his shorts and shits on a glass platter, pulls his shorts up and shoves the plate into a microwave, starting it on 5 minutes - temp: high\n \nHost: Now while we wait for that piece of shit to heat up, here's a fun fuckin' fact! \n \nCartoon cutscene with four squirrels appears on the screen, three of them are dancing and smiling and having fun and the forth of them is old and almost a skeleton, he flops over dead.\n\nVoiceOver: Time is fucking real and that last squirrel died! One day, that'll be you! That's fucking true!\n \nHost: Welcome back you little shits! And speaking of shit, let's check on our solid! \n\nHe opens the microwave and reveals a wet, watery, gooping mess spilling from all sides of the plate\n\nHost: And there ya have it! The shit was solid, and now it's fuckin' liquid! Why? Because it got fuckin' hot. Thanks for joining me for another episode of Totally Fucking True Science with Neil Degrasse Tyson, and in case you didn't fuckin' know, I'm Neil. Have a nice day, Fuckers! Sayonara, Butthairs!\n\nscreen fades to black\n\ncommercial for Erectile Dysfunction medication", "A small music clip plays as the camera zooms into Neil DeGrass Tyson\n\n\"Welcome, to totally fucking true science with Neil DeGrass Tyson. Today, we have a special guest, Mr. Joe Robertson, a professional in science n' shit.\"\n\nThe scientist walked out on the stage and greeted the host.\n\n\"Hello! It's really nice to be here.\"\n\n\"So Mr. Robertson, tell me something sciency\"\n\n\"Sci- heh, what?\"\n\n\"Tell me something sciency, that's TOTALLY FUCKING TRUE!\"\n\n The crowd chanted \"Totally fucking true\" along with Tyson.\n\n\"I can get your ass fired with the flip of my middle finger, bitch\" Neil DeGrass Tyson whispered into the man's ear. \"So you better tell me something fucking sciency\"\n\n\"Uhhhh. Heh\" The scientist nervously laughed. \"Crows can remember faces very well. A part of their brain called the f-\"\n\n\"AND THAT'S TOTALLY FUCKING TRUE SCIENCE!\" Screamed the crowd along with the host.\n\n\"You saved your ass for now, now get the fuck off of my show\"\n\n\"ALRIGHT GUYS! After the commercial break, we get to meet my friend, Mr. Bill Nye!\"\n\nThe camera zooms out to show the audience cheering and a small music clip runs:\"We got a badass over here, plus I got yo back Nye! Astrophysics black guy, Hayden Planetary fly. Plus the answer to your little-\"", "Opening Music, Opening Credits\n\nCamera up on studio set\n\nHost: Hello, and welcome to Totally Fucking True Science. I'm your host Neil Degrasse Tyson.\n\nHost: You know, the world we live in is so amazing. Many of us take for granted that the seasons will change, that the sun will come out, that the world will continue to turn. But what about those amazing things we don't even know about? Things that are totally fucking true.\n\nScreen change, B-Roll of Pacific Ocean\n\nHost: The ocean. The great expanse. The second-to-last frontier. There are many wonderful and crazy things happening in the ocean. For instance, the ocean is 12,080.7 feet (3,682.2 meters) deep on average. That's about eight Empire State Buildings, stacked one on top of the other. The deepest part of the ocean, however, is about 36,200 feet down (11,030 m). That's more like 25 Empire State Buildings. That's fucking crazy! And totally fucking true.\n\nScreen change, B-Roll of people walking in different cities.\n\nHost: And it's not just the ocean that's crazy. Take for example the human brain. It is extremely powerful, and sometimes, takes on a life of it's own. Prosopagnosia is a disorder in which people struggle to recognize faces. Faces are so important that humans have a brain area called the fusiform gyrus that specializes in recognizing them. Developmental problems or injuries to the fusiform gyrus can leave people clueless about the looks of even loved ones. That's totally fucking crazy. And totally fucking true.\n\nScene change, camera up on studio set.\n\nHost: So those are just two examples for totally fucking true science. I've got a guest here to help me, my dear friend, Bill Nye. \n\nGuest: Hello, Dr. Tyson, it's great to see you again.\n\nHost: Come on, Bill, call me Neil. We're all friends here.\n\nGuest: Okay, Neil. Well thanks for having me here, on totally fucking true science.\n\nHost: Absolutely, tell the viewers something crazy, and totally fucking true.\n\nGuest: Sure thing, Neil. Mantis shrimp can use their armored claws to strike at speeds of 74 feet per second (23 m/s), delivering blows with 200 pounds (91 kg) of force behind them. The crustaceans are only about 4 inches (10 cm) long. Thats fucking crazy.\n\nHost: And totally fucking true!\n\nGuest: Definitely. Neil, do you like Star Wars?\n\nHost: Who doesn't?\n\nGuest: Well, check this out. The velvet belly lantern shark comes equipped with spines that glow like lightsabers. These appendages may be a visible warning to predators that any attempt to bite will end with them picking spiky bits out of the roofs of their mouths.\n\nHost: Well slap my ass and call me sally, that's fucking crazy.\n\nGuest: And totally fucking true!\n\nScene change, Quick-Fact Screen\n\nHost: Did you know... the average shot of espresso contains less caffeine than a typical cup of coffee. That's fucking crazy, and totally fucking true.\n\nScene change, camera up on studio set\n\nHost: Those are just a few of the things we have in store this season. Be sure to tune in each week for more stunning, crazy, and mind-blowing facts about Earth, Space, People, and everything in between. I'm Neil Degrasse Tyson, and this has been Totally Fucking True Science.\n\nFade to black\n\nClosing Music, Closing Credits.\n" ]	3
	[WP] You've been kidnapped by a serial killer. But they don't want to kill you. No, it's much worse than that.	[ "\"I want you to marry me.\" He said in with a straight face. I screamed and shook my head with a look of fright frozen on my face.\n\nNo, no, no...\n\nThis was never supposed to happen. I am a journalist and like the other journalists, the news of a new famous serial killer immediately sparked my attention. I went out of my way to collect as much information on the killer and the nickname I gave him on one of my reports stuck in the media.\n\nColorado's Reaper. I called him because he kept using a scythe as a weapon of choice. It created much tension on the community that I've been threatened by the police more than once.\n\nI was hanging out with my friends in a bar that the Reaper frequents in killing in hopes to catch him and be the first to write the news about it. Tony the jerk winked at me as I sat down across him. \"Hey sweetheart.\"\n\n\"No.\" I flatly said before ordering a drink from a passing waiter. I noticed that there is a scarce number of people in the establishment. Probably from the panic I caused.\n\n\"No need to be so mean, babe. I mean, come on. We're the only single ones here in our table. Don't you think it means something?\" Tony gestured at our friends in a relationship.\n\nI rolled my eyes when my drink is set before me. \"The guy on the bar wanted to say that he finds you very attractive, ma'am.\" The waiter said while gesturing to the solemn yet handsome guy staring at me with a slight smile on his face.\n\nI saw the opportunity and grabbed my drink. \"Hey! Where are you going?\" Tony yelled as I walked away. \"Going as far away from the talking Devil and...\" I sat down beside the guy who bought me a drink. \"Going to talk to the solemn Angel.\"\n\nHe smiled at me but didn't say anything. I quickly took a mental snapshot of his dark brown hair and dark green eyes that seemed to do the same with me. \"I really doubt that you don't have a girlfriend waiting for you at home. It's either that or you're a flirt.\" I immediately went straight to the point and it made him laugh. A very amused look passed his face.\n\n\"No, I don't have a girlfriend and I doubt I'm a player. I haven't had the time to date. Too busy with work.\" He chuckled and went back to observing me. \n\n\"Hey, Lei. We're bouncing. I doubt your Reaper will show up today.\" Tony appeared between us and positioned himself enough to exclude the guy. \"Maybe he got scared of me.\" Tony laughed at his joke and walked away.\n\nI gave the guy a sheepish look. \"Sorry. He's a jerk. Anyway, ummm... Sorry I didn't get your name.\"\n\n\"Damien\" He said with a touch of annoyance in his tone. \"Your Reaper? Did he mean the serial killer?\" I stood up and pursed my lips. \"Yeah. Sort of. Everyone at my department calls him my Reaper because I nicknamed him that and it stuck.\" I pulled out a calling card and handed it to him. \"I'm so sorry. My name is Eleina. If you by any chance get a whiff of anything suspicious, call me.\" I ran out of the bar, leaving the puzzled looking guy.\n\nThe killing of the Reaper became more gruesome than the next a month after that. The doctor with his innards taken out and placed strategically to look like a boquet that he held. The head chef's tongue and brain cooked in his own restaurant and served in a platter at a table. The musician holding a violin made from the ribs of the other musician.\n\n\"It almost feels like he's trying to impress someone.\" Tony declared as I wrote the newest killing just a few minutes away from our work. A lot of jewellry has been forced down the goldsmith's throat then gutted him open like a gift.\n\nI shot him a look and sighed. \"You mean, like dating?\" I gave in and asked. Tony grinned and nodded. \"Yeah. Like that. Maybe he has a new partner and this is his sick way of dating her. Or something.\"\n\n\"Riiiight.\" I rolled my eyes and waved him away. \"If there's a new partner, I would've heard about it by now.\" Tony laughed and said as he walked away from my table. \"Ohhh~ You're just jealous.\"\n\nI got home exhausted and spent from trying to get one of my police informers to divulge if the Reaper has a new partner. So far they didn't budge. So I got home empty-handed.\n\nAs I locked my door, an arm caught me in a headlock and I gasped for air while trying to kick my assaulter behind me. \"Shhh... Don't be scared.\" A familiar voice said gently from behind me before I passed out.\n\nNow I am tied-up and dealing with a horrifying question. Marrying the serial killer.\n\n\"I mean, you just need to be the perfect wife and I just want you to listen to me when I talk about my newest killings. I promise I won't hurt you and honestly, this is all just a mask. I'm a really sweet serial killer.\" He cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly at me while blushing. \"Of course, it's not like you have a choice. Say no and I'll kill you. Say yes and go to the police and I'll kill you.\"\n\nI cringed away as he took off my gag and I felt myself trembling in fear as he grabbed my chin. I felt tears down my cheeks and my voice is full of fear as I said the words that sealed my fate.\n\n\"I'll marry you, Tony.\"", "I didn't know my heart could pound so fast, or so hard. I was sure I would die any second, without any help from your part; my heart would leap clear through my ribs and splatter on the floor. I could not bear this suspense.\n\n\"I mean it,\" you said, matter-of-factly. \"I don't want to kill you. I have other plans. Bigger plans.\" That smile appeared again, and I realized why your mere presence was so off-putting: you looked eerily similar to myself. \"You don't get to where I am unless you think of everything.\"\n\nI gulped, straining against the ropes on my wrists, my ankles, my knees. I couldn't move; I couldn't even look away.\n\n\"What do you want?\", I said, hardly getting the words out. \"Why do you need me here?\" I felt immediate regret upon saying it, perhaps knowing that the answer would be terrible.\n\nYou sighed, looking upwards in thought. \"Police work these days, it's too advanced. It's too easy to leave clues on bodies, to be caught by some miniscule detail.\" You looked back at me, and grinned. \"But....I must kill, I must; it is a compulsion, a necessity, a requirement. Compromises can be made, but I must continue the cleanse.\"\n\nI felt my stomach drop as I realized where the conversation was going, and suddenly needed to vomit. A numbness settled over me as I fought the urge, and all my senses scrambled together, resulting in an extreme unease.\n\n\"Like I said, I've thought of everything,\" you continued. \"I have a full biohazard suit already, I have bleach and airtight containers and impenetrable layers of latex. I have a nondescript vehicle, a thorough checklist....and now, I have you. My lookalike, and my surrogate.\"\n\nI realized suddenly that all feeling had gone out of my fingers and toes. What I had taken for numbness was more than that; it was a creeping deadness that was slowly inching up my limbs, shutting them off from my conscious efforts to move them. It dawned on me, with astonishing clarity, that I had been drugged with something.\n\n\"I cannot risk leaving prints, or hair, or anything that may identify myself,\" you said. \"But I've already done a test, an abduction with the suit, and it went flawlessly. See?\" You pointed at a table that I could just make out in the corner of the room; sure enough, there was a woman, asleep - yet tied up.\n\n\"But just in case,\" you told me, as the slow-moving deadness reached my shoulders and hips, \"just in case suspicion falls on me, I need someone to take the fall. And so, here you are. You look just like me, and I made sure to be seen in the area with some of your clothes. You may notice that you're losing control of your body; that's also my doing. I can't have you fighting back when I need your help the most.\"\n\nI tried, I tried as hard as I could to escape. I willed my entire body to move, and succeeded in only slightly shifting my head to the side. Even my tongue was going numb now, and I could not speak.\n\n\"You won't need control anyway,\" you said, and the dark smile returned. \"I'll be in charge of that. I'll help you hold the knives, and the hammers, and the drills. I really only need your fingerprints on them, anyway.\" You walked over to the woman on the table, who was starting to awaken. \"But enough of that. I could talk about it all day, but you'll see what I mean very soon.\"\n\nParalyzed, my eyes stared straight at you, unable to blink.\n", "\"I want you to be my improv partner.\"\n\n\"Hnnmghh?\"\n\nThe gag still buried deep between his lips. John removed it with a gloved hand (no biting).\n\n\"You crazy psycho bitch.\" Kenny's face dripped in sweat, eyes now bulging with fury.\n\n\"Dude, save it for the scene. But I dig the energy.\"\n\nThe walls lined with puppets of the damned, the dead flesh sewn together in unholy union.\n\n\"I call this one George.\" John took down a dolphin puppet. It was made of felt, seemingly completely normal and out of place. Kind of adorable.\n\n\"Please no, no puppets. Anything but that.\"\n\n\"It'll help the atmosphere! And there's only two of us, that's limiting to the scope if we can't have more characters-\"\n\n\"Why don't you just use both hands then? One puppet on each hand? LIke a normal not-fucking-kidnapping-murdering-psycho?\"\n\n\"I need the other hand for props.\"\n\nThat makes sense. He almost shrugged - the genuine thought rang in Kenny's mind, until he shook it away, willed it away. \"NO! Jesus! Why are you doing this to me?\"\n\n\"I saw the laughs you got on stage on Thursday! I just want a little help, that's all!\"\n\n\"Yeah, but that's just standup! I have to write everything out first-\"\n\n\"Then this'll be much quicker!\"\n\nTears welled again in Kenny's eyes. \"You don't understand the creative process!\"\n\nIgnoring him, John looked to the invisible audience, or perhaps to the far wall of gore-puppets. \"Okay, who's got a location and occupation? Someone yell it out!\"\n\nKenny rolled his head back. \"Please just kill me.\"\n\n\"I think I heard someone say waitress at a Fifties Diner!\"\n\nThe dolphin on his hand shook its head, limply, with encouragement. George seemed pleased." ]	3
I saw this on the front page and would love to see some stories to go along with it! http://theartofchrisjohnson.com/images/portfolio/pw_1.jpg	[WP] Write me a story about what's happening in this photo	[ "He had always been a watcher. \n\nBrought into existence for one purpose, to record the passage of the universe. He was one with the universe, his eyes and mind full of every detail in the infinite expanse that lay before him.\n\nHe witnessed the coalescence of planets and galaxies, and he was there when they collapsed. He was an observer of the first sentient life, and he was there when the last atoms of existence faded into entropy. \n\nHis heart was full of the emotions of the entire universe, his mind laden with the knowledge and secrets of endless races. He had been present for the birth and death of every being. he had rejoiced in every celebration, and he had mourned every loss the universe had ever felt. \n\nAnd it was done.\n\nHe felt himself being called back, an urging deep from inside his body.\n\nHe felt himself moving from his eternal perch, being pulled forward into the perfect nothingness.\n\nHe was all that had been and all that would be again.\n\nHe felt his essence leaving him, the thoughts and dreams of every creature to have lived, the memories of every achievement and discovery abandoning him.\n\nHe was almost there now, at the Center.\n\nHe had been created for one purpose.\n\nHe had done well.\n\nIt was so close.\n\nHe closed his eyes.\n\nAnd a tiny spark lit up the darkness.\n\n---------------------------------------\n\nI loved this picture, and I had to write this. Please give me feedback, as I am really new to writing!", "I don't know how I do it. I really don't. I'm just on my bed. I close my eyes. I hear the silly hippie music my friends suggested my ears ingest while I do thing called \"meditation.\" I listen. I listen to my breathing. I focus on my breathing. Concentrating on my breathing. Just focus.\n\nIt's this focus that propels me out of this 214 pound body, don't ask me where I go. I have no fucking idea. I'm like a 4 year old on a road trip, I don't understand what's around me but the colors are bright and I'm surrounded by geometric shapes I don't recognize but their fun to look at. \n\nI know when I'm gone. I'm traveling fast, seeing things that were and could be. It's exciting now, obviously. The first couple times, yeah, not so much fun. I'm hurling though infinity, scary the first couple times. It's like a boat. I had to get used to the motions before I could actually enjoy the trip. \n\nI don't know how to navigate. There no maps, mostly colors. I think the colors are my own thoughts. I'm being vacuumed though what I think is my own reality, again, I don't really know. I'm just trying to enjoy the trip. I can feel my body still, I need to. It's like a rope. A lifeline. \n\nWhen I get back. I open my eyes. I don't usually remember much. I think I'm back in my own reality. I think. I'm not sure. There's no way to test. I know I'm on my bed. I know I'm in my room. I can see my text books I take with me to school. I know I'm home. The problem. When I stand up I walk. I walked around my room, I stare in the mirror. I look on my stomach. Everytime I go on these trips, I notice a new scar. I have 8 now. I appreciate that I have the opportunity to go on these trips, I just want to know who's been counting. ", "I am evolution. I am control. \n\nI am energy and life and heat and breath. \n\nCome to me when you can control every muscle in your body. \n\nCome to me when you can regulate your heart and blood with a thought. \n\nCome to me when you can consciously send blood cells to a wound and make it heal. \n\nCome to me when you can control the cells in your body.\n\nCome to me when you can direct your immune system to destroy a virus.\n\nCome to me when you can release and restrict the hormones in your brain. \n\nCome to me when you can alter the very cells in your body. \n\nCome to me when you can manipulate your own life force. \n\nCome to me when you can remember the womb. \n\nI am evolution. I am control.\n\nI am perfect." ]	3
	[WP] An inexperienced torturer on his first day	[ "I looked at the assortment of tools, neatly laid out on the stained rack. It seemed like every shape metal and leather could be bent to was present. I picked up a short, thin rod; barbs covered its length, all facing towards one end. It clattered to the floor as I realized its purpose, shuddering.\n\nAfter the cartel recruited me, I'd spent hours debating my conscience. I was trapped here, with armed men to answer to if I didn't obey, and myself if I did. And yet, something about the idea excited me.\n\nThe form on the rack was still squirming, but he'd stopped screaming into the gag, thankfully. That ball of rubber had been working furiously while he'd been escorted into the room, strapped up, and for an hour thereafter. I picked up one of the tools, trying not to stare at it. It seemed innocuous enough; a small metal cone on a long rubber stick. I touched the tip lightly. Then I shrieked. The shock had blurred my vision, and the spot where it had touched me was charred.\n\nMuffled laughter echoed from the walls. I whipped around, and didn't hesitate to press the point into his neck. The shift from mockery to agony was musical. I turned to the smorgasbord on the wall, smiling. \n\nThe concert lasted for over an hour before his singing finally ended. I discovered my soul that day, rotten through. It's wonderful.", "The two men’s groans echoed throughout the laboratory. One an old long moan, the other like a muffled scream.\n\n“Sorry sir. Are you Okay?” the young man said to his senior.\n\n“Do I look Oookay?” replied the doctor, his back on the floor with a chair resting upside down on his torso and his feet high in the air.\n\n“No sir.”\n\n“And why do you think that is?”\n\n“Um, because the human hit you?”\n\n“Are you telling me or are you asking me?! Of course it’s because the human hit me! I meant why did the human hit me?”\n\n“Because I didn’t calculate the right tension for the rack.”\n\n“Exactly, but don’t worry it happens to everyone the first time they try. Now come on, put the clamps back on it’s nipples and make sure he’s tied down snug this time. I hate the way their arms flail when we shock them.”\n", "I breathed slowly. In through the nose, out through the mouth. My stomach twisting and flipping inside of me. Today was the day. The day I proved I was worthy of being here. The day I proved that I could perform the tasks required of me.\n\n\"Any time now,\" I glanced over at the man in the corner. His face obscured by a mask. His body shrouded in cloth hiding his figure. I nodded. Pulling in a deep breath I reached over to the tools they had provided, picking up the smallest knife there was. I watched my hand, quivering as I brought it closer to the gagged victim.\n\nI pressed down slightly and the knife slipped, clattering to the floor. I cursed quietly as a tiny drop of blood formed into a tiny river on the man's arm. I wiped my hands and glanced at the man in the corner. He hadn't moved. I wiped the sweat from my palms a second time before bending and picking up the knife. Straightening I wiped my forehead with my sleeve and then tried again. Pressing the knife down I made a long line down his arm. He jerked and screamed, startling me again.\n\n\"Stop flinching every time he moves,\" I shuddered slightly at the cold words and nodded, \"Again.\" I re-positioned the knife and made another cut, this one slightly smaller. I watched as the skin bloomed open before my eyes, his flesh flowering under my blade. Fascinated I watched the blood trickle and pool beneath him.\n\nI was shaking again, this time from excitement. I made another cut, and another, and another. All over him. The beautiful liquid, shining, slow, forming small rivulets all over his body. Connecting in an alluring artwork. My artwork. His screams barely penetrating my euphoria. I quickly made another cut, deep within his flesh. He screamed and the man in the corner cursed. I stepped back in awe as a fountain sprung forth from his body. \n\nThe scent filled the air and I inhaled deeply, the arousing scent of it. The man screaming behind his gag. Thrashing as his life drained away. Drained away in the water that provided it. The sweet water that was now pouring from him.\n\nThe man in the corner moved forward and removed a steel rod, it's tip glowing from the fire. Without hesitation he placed it on the victim's skin, searing it closed and stopping the flow of that beautiful liquid. Setting it down he spoke, \"We said not to kill him.\" I hung my head. He straightened, then turned to me, \"Report tomorrow at dawn for more extensive training.\"", "\"Idiot! What is this, like your first day on the job?\" The beautiful woman smirked at him.\n\nHe fumbled with the pilers dropping them on the ground. Rather than pick them up, he took another item from the tray and approached her holding it in a way he thought was frighten the woman. \n\nShe rolled her eyes and said, \"Christ, you are an amatuer. Can you guys please get someone in here that knows what they are doing? You don't use the number four pick before you have even tried the basic brute techniques. Where did they hire you from, a dentist's office?\"\n\nHe felt his face go red from embarrassment and anger. He slapped her hard and threw the tool away. He blurted out, \"Shut up and just tell me who you work for!\" \n\nShe just laughed at him. She licked her lips and gave him a seductive look before saying, \"Maybe you should take my clothes off, you know. Make me feel powerless.\"\n\nHe shook with anger and embarrassment as he stomped out of the room. He slammed the door and paced back and forth before taking a deep breath and calling his cousin, \"Hey, Paco! Yeah, it's Ramon. No no... Yeah, she's gonna talk. Hey, about that... Yeah, I know, I know. I won't. Right, hurt her, but don't kill... Yeah, but what about? Alright, ok. I said ok. I got this.\" He ended the call almost threw his phone on the ground before swearing silently with the phone pressed up against his head. He looked back at the room and took a deep breath. \n\nHe walked up behind her quickly and pulled her hair hard, nearly growling as he said to her, \"Who do you work for?\" \n\nInstead of screaming or yelling she growled back, \"Oh yes, pull my hair, make me your bitch!\"\n\nHe let go and swore loudly, then turned to her and shouted, \"What is wrong with you? You aren't supposed to like it!\"\n\nShe sighed and looked at him as if he were a child and said harshly, \"You are terrible at this. Have you even tortured anyone before?\" She looked him from head to toe, \"You don't have to answer that, I already knew you hadn't when you strapped me down like some bad James Bond villain would. You have seen way too many tv shows and movies and thought that's what torture really looks like.\"\n\nHe started to say something when she said, \"Look, I'll make this easy on you. I'll tell you what you want to know, but we aren't doing the torture thing. Instead, you have to buy me a nice dinner and we are gonna watch a movie that I like, and maybe I'll even have sex with you. Maybe.\" \n\nHe hesitated and then asked, \"You'll really tell me?\"\n\nShe licked her lips and gave him a seductive look, \"Yep, I don't get paid enough to be tortured.\"\n\nHe thought about it for a moment and then asked, \"Who do you work for? Give me at least that much, and I'll buy dinner and get the movie.\"\n\nShe laughed and said, \"I have the card in my back pocket, can you reach or maybe just untie my arm so I can get it?\"\n\nHe quickly untied her arm. His first moment of realization that he made yet another horrible mistake came as he felt the sharp pinch in his hand. He looked down and saw one of the tools from the torture tray half embedded through it. \n\nAs the world went black he thought he heard her say, \"I should have killed the guy that hired you first.\"\n\n", "Jokos didn't know what to expect, really. He figured he'd be doing small-time information drilling on the enemies of The Warlock's Hegemony (praise be unto the Great Thirteen), but nope, on his first day, he was supposed to extract pain as a spell component. That usually required some expertise to maximize the pain and the extraction ratio. So, understandably, Jokos was fidgeting with his chrysoprase-tipped novice staff was the more experienced warlock in front of him drew the summoning circle. That, and he was pretty sure he would be judged more harshly--there weren't too many black people like him among the ranks of true warlocks, because The Great Thirteen were total bigots.\n\n\"...This is 091. She's on her way out and her nerves have been butchered to great sensitivity at this point, so this should be a piece of cake for you,\" Makuldra explained after finishing the seal. \"But I'll be watching, just in case. INGEN TROISEN HALAMCUIS VANN,\" he chanted, finishing the summon. Jokos briefly marveled at the use of a mere four verbal components before bringing his attention to the human in the circle. Jokos stepped foward.\n\n091 looked to be a middle-aged woman whose skin was composed almost enirely of scar tissue. She sat limply on the ground, cataracted eyes staring out at nothing. Her black hair had mostly fallen out, she wore gray and ragged clothes, and her hands and feet seemed to be twisted wrongly. Fun fact about healing rituals: if you don't spring for the good ones involving cinnabar, it has a small chance for a minor error. Jokos immediately identified the problem: 091 had had to have been subjected to uncountable component-cheap rituals, and the errors accrued in her hands, eyes, and skin. No wonder she was \"on her way out\"; The Warlock's Hegemony (praise be unto the Great Thirteen) would soon just get a new subject.\n\nMakulra had retired to a nearby chair and appeared to be reading a grimoire--although Jokos could tell from his expression that he was just doing mental divinations to look at porn. Jokos spent exactly thirteen verbal components to summon his usual enchanted knife. 'Let's get this overwith,' he thought.\n\nWith precise, slow strokes, he sliced gashes along her arms. 091 barely reacted, whimpering and crying, but not actually moving--too broken for that. Alright, next step...another six components, and he conjured a sphere of salt in his hand. Jokos rubbed it along the knife to get it nicely coated, and started making more gashes, this time on her legs.\n\nJokos briefly wondered if he had conjured the wrong substance--turns out \"mysterious white powder\" describes basically every botched elemental initiation--because there was no screaming. He looked down at 091's face--she silently wept. He paused for a moment, wondering what to do. Obviously he was doing something wrong... \"Hey. You alright?\" he asked.\n\nWhy did he ask that? That was stupid.\n\nHer creaking voice answered him. \"...please...help me...\" she hung her head, looking down at the bleeding wounds.\n\nJokos looked around at the summoning circle, then glanced back at Makuldra, who was still completely out of it. \n\nJokos had been a fast learner in the theory of dark magics, but hadn't really practiced, per se. But even so, taking a look at Makuldra's bindings...there were the proper sigils for a rudimentary banishment available. A very weak-willed person could even be sent to the Void Between if he did this right, which was actually a very comfortable place to be for non-warlocks. Hmm. If nothing else, this would be good practice. And if he succeeded, well, he could cash in the positive karma on improving the enchantment on his knife or something.\n\n\"AKARAXEN DOSOS NIHEN, KROPIKEN ULHU, VARMU DINATI...\"", "\"Lawrence, I'm giving you the reigns for this one. I know you've seen me do this before, so I'll let you have a hand at it. Mostly because I'm on break in five minutes and I want to leave early.\" The master torturer handed me his axe and took the potato sack off of his head. At least that's what it looked like. \"This head covering,\" He started, handing me the bag, \"has been in my torture family for six generations. I don't want anything to happen to it. If you rip a hole in it, you might be replacing this old fella on the rack.\" He pointed to the fifty-year old guy stretched laying down with his arms nearly out of their sockets. \"It's extremely simple, just twist this wheel,\" He grabbed the wooden wheel next to him and began to turn it slightly. The old man began crying out in pain. \"Is he okay!?\" I asked, shocked at the sudden noise. \"No! He's not. If he screams like that you're doing it right. Now I'm leaving. Remember, don't screw up.\" The master torturer left after handing me his axe and bag. I could see the light from the dungeon entrance reflect off of his skull and go right into my eyes. \"Ah!\" I yelled, dropping the supplies I had been given. The old man next to me started laughing, crying in pain with each breath. \"D-d-don't laugh!\" I began to calmly inhale though my nose and exhale out of my mouth. While doing this I kept reassuring myself quietly, \"Just remember the three T's of torture. Terrify, Timing, and.... oh god. What's the last one? Was it important? My teacher would be so pissed. I'm gonna end up on the rack.\" I bent down to pick up the axe and sack. I put the sack over my head and immediately went blind. I knew there were eye-slits somewhere on it, I dropped the axe again and let my arms fumble around my head looking for a way to turn the headgear around. The whole time the victim cried of both laughter and pain, alternating between the two. I tried to ignore him, but tears began to well up in my eyes. I'm lucky I had this bag over my head, otherwise he might have caught me. Finally, through what I assume to be luck, I managed to turn the bag around so I could see. I wiped my eyes and picked up the axe. As I stood up I managed to bang my head on the wheel of the rack. I know I turned it a bit because I heard a yelp coming from above me. \"Hah, that's what you get for laughing at your torturer! It doesn't feel good does it!\" The old man stared at me for a second with a terrified look on his face. He had stopped laughing and began to speak. \"This is the most exciting thing that has happened to me in my fifteen years of torture. \"Well, It's about to be your last day!\" I said turning the wheel slightly. The old man screamed in pain as his arms stretched further and further. \"AH! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to move it that far. Oh... I guess you can't answer. You.....uh.... passed out...I guess.\" I shifted the axe from both of my hands to my left hand. I checked to see if anyone was watching me. The coast was clear. I took my stance and punched the old guy right in the face. \"Fuck you old guy.\"", "\"So, when do I start asking him questions?\"\n\n\"Ask him right away and don't stop. And don't go for the big stuff, work up to it. The suspense might get him to talk.\"\n\nAhmed took a long gulp and wiped his brow.\n\n\"You'll do fine\" his commander said, \"remember he is the enemy. Just a dog from the street.\"\n\n\"I'll do my best, sir.\"\n\nAhmed entered the storeroom where the prisoner was being held. There was a gallery of \"tools\" laid out on the table next to him. The man himself was tied to a chair by his hands and feet and blindfolded. He was already shaking and whimpering. He knew of the organization's reputation and the mere sound of Ahmed opening and closing the door behind him unnerved the poor man to no end.\n\nAhmed didn't hesitate. He had his orders. He asked the question.\n\n\"Where are the others?!\"\n\nThe man sobbed, \"I don't know, I swear.\"\n\nAhmed took a pair of pliers, clamped them on the man's left nipple and twisted. There was a scream of pain. He unclamped the tool and asked again, louder. The prisoner maintained he didn't know. This time, he twisted the nipple so hard that blood dripped down his belly and the nipple hung by a thread of skin.\n\nAhmed threw up in his mouth. The man wailed and wailed as he unclamped the bloody pliers and put them back on the table. He never tortured anyone before and never wanted to. It went against every notion of human decency that existed. Some sick bastards enjoy this, he thought. But he couldn't. It was causing another man pain. A stranger he'd never seen in his life.\n\n\"Look, I don't want to do this to you, just answer the question and I'll stop!\"\n\n\"Don't you think I'll answer if I could? I don't know! I swear to God!\" \n\nThe prisoner wept. The commander said to work gradually, but Ahmed didn't care. He wanted it to end as much as the prisoner did. Ultimately, he realized, by inflicting this pain on another human being, he was just torturing himself.\n\nSo, he fired up the battery, held the two wires together until an arc of electricity passed between them, then jammed it into the man's groin. He held for a few seconds then pulled away. It was the loudest, most blood curdling scream of all.\n\n\"Okay! They're in Mosul! A man named Sharif has a pottery shop near the main mosque, he hides them in the basement! That's all I know, please no more pain!\"\n\nAhmed was puzzled by this sudden steam of specific information. So much so, that Ahmed asked completely outlandish questions to the prisoner.\n\n\"The American president, John F. Kennedy. Did you kill him?\"\n\n\"Yes it was me! From the grassy knoll!\"\n\n\"And that Malaysian plane, you know where it is?\"\n\n\"It's in Java! I helped cover it up!\"\n\n\"Green Lantern....I don't like him very much.\"\n\n\"Yes, he's awful! I hate him!\"\n\nThe man was willing to say anything to stop the pain. It was clear that any further torture would be a complete waste of time.\n\nAhmed left the room. The commander asked him how it went. Ahmed replied:\n\n\"I fucking quit.\" \n\n", "\"It should be very, very easy, Andrew\"\n\nThat's what they all told me. Fuck them.\n\nIt's my second week here at The Institute. They teach us how to torture here. The first week was simply orientation, getting to know my classes, classmates and teachers. Turns out a professional torturer had to know a lot of things in order to cause real pain. Psychology, Anatomy, even stupidly unnecessary shit like Chemistry and History. We started classes right away. Rigorous sons of bitches. Each class is four motherfucking hours straight. \n\nAnyways, all I've learned last week is being put into practice now, the tests start today. \n\nToday I torture for the first time, and I'm shitting myself.\n\nThe teachers have prepared us in every way, however. They told us what kind of scary shit to say, where to hit them, where to cut them, etc. It's all theory with these people. Nonetheless, being the weak little shit that I am, I'm probably going to forget everything I learned. I guess the only thing that I can do now is take the damn test.\n\nWe have a total of 1 hour to torture the patient. We just have to knock out, that is the only thing that is required. I mean, we can kill them but..We don't have to .\n\nThey call my name on the list and I enter the torture room.\n\nThe room is bleak, dark, and moist. They keep it that way for some scientifically proven method of inciting panic, I bet. I don't fucking know.\n\nThe patient is sitting on a makeshift dentist's chair. Eyes covered by a surprisingly clean and well-tied bandana. The patient was wearing a tank top and jeans, he had a beer gut. A classmate of mine, Yuri, said they brought the patients from the gulags and the jails, maybe that was true, since this guy looks like he came fresh out of jail, or maybe Yuri was a complete shithead, like most of the people here.\n\nI took the table, looking at the tool's they've given me. I still haven't talked to the patient, although he knows I'm here. Finally I pick a tool, one of the classics; a hammer. In Tools class they taught me 54 different ways to hit a patient with a hammer. It just so happens that I don't fucking remember. I might just have to wing this one. How hard could it be?\n\nI walk over to the chair. First step is to incite fear, generally by talking shit. I position myself right next to the patient, looming over him, so he doesn't notice he's being tortured by a 15 year old. \n\n\"Hey, fuckface. Look at me\"\n\nHe turns his head toward my voice.\n\n\"I.. I can't see. My eyes are covered.\"\n\nAndrew, you fucking idiot\n\nI uncover his eyes. Pale blue, empty, staring at me.\n\n\"Where the fuck am I?\"\n\n\"Doesn't matter, motherfucker, you're gonna get tortured\"\n\nI cringe at myself, but not visibly.\n\n\"Why? What the fuck did I do?\" He starts shaking wildly, screaming.\n\nI hope the people outside are hearing his screams, get them to think I'm doing a good job.\n\n\"I don't care and I don't know. Hold still.\"\n\nI swung the hammer at his right shoulder, where the bones meet.\n\nThe man shakes, the hammer hits, but not where I wanted it to.\n\n\"What was that? I felt something on my shoulder\"\n\n\"Shut the fuck up\"\n\nChange of plans, I grab the scissors.\n\nI go to him again. Now what the fuck do I do. What the fuck do I cut?\n\nI grab some matches and light his hair on fire. He starts shaking. I start cutting his hair while it burns. I just had this urge to do something while his hair burned. And, at that time, I was in completely full retard\n\nLock after lock of hair, the stench of burning hair filled the air. It smelled like my mom's salon. I started feeling sick. Once I got tired of the smell, I took a bucket of cold water and quenched the fire on his head, which now resembled a forest after a wildfire. I promptly vomited on the bucket (It was just too fucking much for a kid like me) And then I emptied the bucket on his hair some more. Organic shampoo. Then I thought: What the fuck kind of torture is this?\n\nI look at the clock. 5 minutes left, and the guy is wide awake. I don't know what the fuck to do now, there's so many tools and so little time. I panic, because It's been a while since I became a total bitch.I take the metal tool cabinet and throw it at him, the tools flying everywhere.\n\nAt this point he's just sitting there, staring at me, with a look that resembles a dog watching his owner have a mental breakdown. I grab the closest thing to me, the bucket, and start smashing his head with it.\n\n\"You like that, you fucking retard?\"\n\nAt that very moment, while I furiously attacked a torture patient with a bucket, the door slammed open and the principal walked with 3 guards. They carried me off of my patient as if I were a little girl, which was what I was acting like, at the time.\n\nThe principal just stares at me, and leaves.\n\nI hate this fucking place.\n\n \n\n", "\"Jim.\" \n\n\"Yes. \"\n\n\"Are you listening.\" \n\n\"Yes. \"\n\n\" Okay, can you please hand me the good saw. \"\n\n\"Yes, Master\" \n\n\nToday is my first day. Brand new. I'm what you say right off the boat in the field of torture. Can't explain why I'm so attracted to it, I guess it started when I was younger, torture was something as I found as a form of beautiful justice. I saw my first live.. \n\n\"Jim, please, the good saw! \"\n\nDamn, lost in my mind again, I drift a lot. Okay. The good saw is always so close, why does he need me to get it. I went over to the wall where it rested, previously used, bloody, It's an art. I grabbed the saw and rushed it back to master.\n\n\"Here is the good saw Master.\"\n\n\"Thank you, anyways, please pay attention. What is the goal. \"\n\n\"Information.\" \n\n\"No, The goal is to force information. Imagine him like a balloon That's it. He's a balloon, filled with hot air, and when they yell and cry, it's all just hot air. Remember. He's a balloon.\" \n\nMaster pointed over at the next person we would be squeezing justice from. He rested on a chair. Naked. Confused. He panted heavy, his feet were raised exposing his shins as they rested size by side. \n\n\"Jim, are you paying attention. \"\n\n\" Yes. \"\n\n\" \nOkay, have you heard of this technique before? \"\n\n\nYes. I have. I've read this before, this is a tactic torturers have used for years. I love it. I couldn't wait to see it live. Okay, so, People might have a tendency to cry and moan. I'm aware of this. It's awful. Telling us about their families. How they want to live. Blah. Blah. Blah. If we see this human differently, torturing is fun. It's exciting. Master leads me over to the balloon that looked at us wide eyed. He began to shake. \n\n\"Now, Jim, this is just scratching the surface of what are we going to do. This balloon you see in front of you has no information, we're to just show you how to properly extract it if this was a situation that, well, information was needed.\"\n\n\n\"So, what are we doing?\"\n\n\n\"Watch. \"\n\nMaster puts a black cloth over the balloons head. And rest the saw on his shins. The balloon begins to scream loudly. \n\n\"We're going to do this slowly, I want you to know, answers will always after to come after the pain, not during. You don't stop. You finish the job. You show him his leg. You ask the question. If he refuses. The next leg.\"\n\nPlease can we do this already. Master hands me the saw. I feel the power I adjust myself over the shins, and press gentley. The balloon squirms. I begin sawing. I saw. And saw. I can feel the heat from the blood. Yes. Justice. I keep sawing and look over at master. \n\n\"Yes, hold. Tightly, wait, stop. \"\n\n\nMaster comes to me and motions me aside and takes the saw. The balloon is screaming but it has no effect on us. It's just all hot air. \n\n\n\"You need to make sure you use proper form. You need to motion with your elbow. Push with the elbow. Forward.\" \n \nThere was a scream as Master moved the saw forward into the shin. \n\n\"And hold for one Mississippi, and then back, again, make sure to now pull with the elbow.\" another scream. Hot air escaped the balloon. Master continued with the pull, push, pull, push, pull, push. Until the balloons legs both laid still with no body attached. \n\n\"You see. \" said Master. \"You need to make sure you focus on proper form. We don't get the health benefits like we used to so make sure you remember form, so you don't have to retire in your 30's. You understand?\" \n\n\"Yes Master. \"\n\n\n\"Okay, next, let me show you how we deal with the eyeballs, can you hand me that screwdriver.\" \n " ]	9
Reposting because the previous one was removed because of not tagging it.	[WP]2000 years from now, an archaeologist finds a dvd of the lord of the rings films. He believes the contents of the film depict the actual lifestyle of the ancient civilization(i.e ours). Describe what he'd write on his report about his findings.	[ "\"Found a case an obsolete form of keeping audiovisual documents from around the beginning of the 21 century that looked like a precise History of the Civilization we are studding intitled The Lord of the Rings but, after analyzing the context and compare the images with animal remains and fossils as well other sociological studies about this people, I came to the conclusion that the story is a form of entertainment, probably from the period \"Middle Ages\", where this kind of themes were common.\"", "Fellow historians, my presentation today concerns the specific motivational issues presented by the beacons of Gondor.\n\nWe know from our multiple archaeological extractions and interpretations, such as Dr. Yr Traegan's work on the Motor City Cataclysm of 2010 C.E., that most densely-inhabited parts of the world possessed sophisticated telecommunications technology such that signal fires would seem antiquated even by their primitive standards. Furthermore, Gondor is linguistically related most closely with post-Aboriginal Australia, which in turn is linguistically similar to the peoples abandoned in the Motor City Cataclysm. The bibliography at the end of the discs' source references \"New Zealand,\" which must have been a colloquial or pejorative name for Gondor.\n\nSo as improbable as it may seem, the horse- and tinder-based culture of Gondor co-existed with Motor City and Australia. This leaves us with a puzzling paradox: why did Gondor reject technology and tie its very safety to an antiquated and inefficient system of signal fires? The most likely explanation lies in the patterns of religious orthodoxy as it rose within this global socio-linguistic group during the period immediately preceding the Goreian Mass Extinction of the 22nd century.\n\nAs we know, Earth in the 21st century was covered part of the year in snow and ice. Some very limited areas still held permanent glaciers, and Gondor's signal fires rested on the few low-temperature areas in existence. With what we know of anthropological ritual patterns throughout humanity's history, it is likely that the people of Gondor intentionally broke with the technological progressions of their age, progressions they held responsible for the disappearance of oceanic wildlife. The enemy Sauron and his orcs should be understood as a metaphor rather than a literal interpretation of events: an industrialized, mechanized force led by a being who used magic (itself a common metaphor for technology) to attempt destruction of people wielding simple weapons (bows, axes) and living simple lives.\n\nGondor, then, was a last pilgrimage, itself a beacon signifying a vanishing world. Those featured heavily on the discs are clearly religious converts: Viggo Mortenson takes the name of Aragorn. Liv Tyler goes by Arwen. Elijah Wood becomes Frodo Baggins. These pre-conversion names come from Old Sweden, the Hebrews (in the case of Elijah), and Tyler, a corruption of the Prehistoric English word for tailor (from this we know that quite a few English had pointed ears and unusually long lifespans). Stories of converts leading the faithful run through every religion, and we need not dwell on the significance.\n\nThe presence of converts indicates a Gondorian anxiety over the coming mass extinction that reached into select portions of the globe; since all those in Gondor and all converts had light skin, this migration may also have been a subconscious reaction to exponentially rising rates of skin cancer.\n\nBy understanding the reasons for pilgrimage to Gondor, we can assume that Gondor's rejection of technology was religious in nature and an expression of ecological anxiety. None of the alternative explanations, including the controversial \"what if it's just a movie and we are really overthinking this\" approach from last year's Saruman Studies Symposium, explain the remains of Gondor found off the coast of Southern Chinindia. The sheep-inhabited islands match the locations of the signal fires in the discs. A pre-sea level rise elevation would also match the elevations of the Gondorian mountains.\n\nWere the signal fires ever intended to be lit? We may never know. I am doubtful. It is my belief that they were altars to a vanishing world: the globe neatly deforested, the last remaining stands of timber used to metaphorically guard the last remaining areas of cold. And when the earth can withstand no more, the Gondorians ritualistically set it all alight, burn the timber, melt the ice, and hope against hope for a happy ending.\n\nThank you for your attention. We will have questions after the panel. Our next presenter has an extract from her dissertation, \"Observable Effects of Starvation and Scarcity on Peter Jackson from the Unabridged Edition of the Ring Lord's Tale.\"\n\n", "08AUG4014\n\nYesterday Mr. Walters found a small case containing 3 (Three) round disks. Both the case and the disks are made of primitive plastics. The disks measure 120mm (On Hundred and Twenty Millimeters) in diameter and 1.2mm (One point Two Millimeters) thick. In the center of all 3 (Three) disks was an 18mm (Eighteen Millimeter) hole. One side of each disk contains a picture depicting someone or some setting. See attachments A, B, and C for copies of the pictures. The other side contains a mirrored surface, with what appears to be rings engraved in them. See attachment D.\n\nMr. Walters figured that maybe the mirrored side contained engraved information. We scanned each disk's mirrored side into the computer. Upon looking at the results we determined that Mr. Walters was correct in his hypothesis. We appeared to be looking at binary information, with the engravings being nothing more than a string of 1s (Ones) and 0s (Zeros). We set the computer to decoding the the binary information, and after 3 hours we were granted with the first few glimpses at what was contained on the disks. We estimate that it will take the computer 23 days to completely decode and clean the information. Upon completion we will forward copies of the decoded information, along with the disks themselves, back to the ship.\n\nThe glimpses we got appeared to be a Two Dimensional image accompanied by audio. Luckily the language spoken was a primitive version of, the now dead language, English. There were also a few instances of some unknown languages, but luckily those are accompanied by subtitles. The computer has automatically translated all of the English, with a few exceptions but I believe these exceptions are names of races or people that we are no longer familiar with.\n\nMr. Walters and I believe that the disks contain an account of a large historical event set in the late 1990s and early 2000s. We are still unclear if the account was a recreation or a documentary, though we both are currently leaning towards recreation. I have created a bullet point list of what we have discovered on the disks so far.\n\nCreatures - We see images of several unheard of creatures, and a few creatures that are only spoken of in legends and myths.\n\n* Trolls (Mythological creature)\n* Orcs/Orks (new creature. Seem to be smaller trolls. A brutal and aggressive race.)\n* Goblins (Mythological creature, though we think the name was used interchangeably with Orcs/Orks)\n* Wraiths (Mythological creature, though this specific type is not one that can be found in known stories.)\n* Hobbits (New creature. They appear to be really short humans with slightly pointed ears, and large hairy feet.)\n* Dwarves (Plural) / Dwarf (Singular) (Mythological creature. Look similar to Humans. They are short, about the same size as a Hobbit, but stockier. All known Dwarves have a big bushy beard. The account seems to imply that even the females grow extensive facial hair as well.)\n* Wizards (Though we count them as fictional people with 'Magical' abilities, this accounts seems to imply that they are their own race. Will have to research once all data is decoded.)\n* Ol-ee-fants (Spelling unsure at this time. They appear to be a distant relation to today's Elephant. Though they are much much bigger. One Ol-ee-fant can carry as many as 40 humans.)\n* Wargs (New Creature. They appear to be a large 4 (Four) legged carnivorous beast. They are large enough for the Orcs/Orks to ride.\n* Giant Eagles (New Creature. They appear to be a large extinct version of the better known extinct Golden Eagle.)\n* Ents (Mythological creature. Though they go by a previously unheard of name, they are walking talking trees.)\n* Humans (The now extinct humans appear to be the dominant race at the time of this account.)\n* Elves (Plural) / Elf (Singular) (We are Physically depicted similarly to how we are today. However our ancestors seemed to put up the allusion that we had \"Magical\" abilities. However, our ancestors were good with bows and arrows.)\n* Gollum (This is a skin and bones, hairless creature. It appears both his name, and his race's name is Gollum. Though he does go by Smeagol for awhile. Will have to investigate further.)\n\nThere are also a lot of unremarkable fish, birds and other wildlife seen and mentioned. To categorize them all would require extensive research and will be saved for when Mr. Walters and I return to the ship.\n\nTechnologies - The technological level at the time seems to be much farther behind than previously thought. Though they had the ability to record and preserve this account. Many people are seen living in huts and hovels with no heating or aircon. Food is prepared over an open flame, using wood or dung for fuel. There seems to be little industry, though one of the Wizards appears to be making a break through in that area. The wars are fought with Bows, Spears and Swords. The means of transportation seems to be Horses for Humans, Dwarves (though they don't seem happy about it), Elves and Hobbits. Wargs for select Orcs/Orks, or just running for hours on end for most of the Orcs/Orks. There are however a few exceptions were technology seems to surpass even us.\n\n* Invisibility ring - A simple golden ring with an (currently) unknown inscription on it. The ring gives the wearer the ability to go invisible. However, the Wraiths appear attracted to it, possibly by a strong EMF field. The effects of the ring also seem to be addicting, as those who have worn the ring lust after it and seem really protective of it. The ring was seen being destroyed at the end of the account.\n* Advanced Staffs - Each Wizard appears to have a staff that has extraordinary abilities. The abilities seen so far have been: \n\n1. Enhancing the user's strength. Enough to send creatures flying upon being struck, and cracking rock.\n2. Giving the user almost telekinetic powers. The staff can be used to move objects or creatures without touching them.\n3. Creates a blinding white light. It is assumed that this light hurts Orcs/Orks and trolls, though more research should be done on the subject.\n\n* Swords with built in Sensors - Some swords, supposedly made by our ancestors, have a built in sensor package. These sensors seem to pick up on the presence of Goblins, and Orcs/Orks. Though the method of notification is primitive, it seems effective. The swords glow blue in the presence of a Goblin or Orc/Ork. The closer and larger the group the brighter the sword glows. These swords also appear to be made of a metal that Goblins and Orcs are allergic too, since they fear even the slightest touch of the weapon.\n* Communication Orbs - The Wizards seem to be in possession of an Orb that has visual and audio communication abilities. If you have an orb you can communicate with someone else who also possesses one.\n* Glowing water - Our ancestors appeared to have mastered a special water that can glow brightly. I assume that it is a chemical reaction, but I am not sure. This technology may not seem advanced, but at the time depicted the only light sources available were fire or the sun.\n\nThat is all I have to report on at the moment. I will get back to excavating the dig site until the computer has decoded more. Once I have had a chance to study the data more thoroughly I will submit another report.\n\nSigned\n\nTom Bombadil\n\nChief Archaeologist" ]	3
	[WP] World War 3 has just started. Who is at war and why?	[ "It's 12 o'clock and the grounds still shaking from the distant bombs hitting the city making it nothing more then another crater. They haven't stopped since it started in 2015, America being the first to make the move against Russia attacking the troops the were about to deploy into Ukraine, \"we are protecting them\" well there isn't much to protect now. I can't remember the last time I saw the sun without the smoke, the last time I smelt the fresh air, the last time I cold swim in the ocean without wording about radiation. It's all dark now death litters the streets in forms of people, unsuspectingly praying on the week waiting for another soul to jump ship, aren't we all waiting for that now?. Yesterday I found a gun it had 2 rounds but it's enough to scare the scavengers around here, sometimes you can here the emergency broadcast on a distant radio and it's soothing like a child's mother in the middle of a thunderstorm. \n1 am and there's a sudden stop in the bombings a calm before the storm you could say but I think of it more as the middle of a tornado, my hands shake at the sudden silence and I sit down on the road and look at the mushroom clouds that engulf the sky taking it the moon and the stars the last beautiful thing that was left. I guess it's time to go while there's silence, I grab my gun and place it on my temple pressing with a gentle force just enough to feel the life about to be drained out. The trigger is cold and my body is prospering itself for destruction, it's funny you never really stop fearing death until it's the only option. ", "In a not too distant future the Grand Supreme Council of Earth gathered in the honorable capital of Crimea. Leaders from all nations attended. Ambassador Putin, an immortal once regarded as a tyrant now the heavenly darling of peace and good will, had summoned them all here. All were certain that an important message would be delivered. As he took the podium and adjusted the microphone he tapped it.\n\n\"H-hello\" he tested it.\n\nThe gathering fell to order quickly, rapt with excitement and anxiety over what may be announced.\n\n\"Oh there's Barack!\" He said, pointing into the middle distance of the crowd \"And Blair!\" Again pointing. \"And I see all my friends here in Romper Room.\"\n\nEver the joker, the council roared with laughter, most missing the joke entirely.\n\n\"Ambassadors, I have a disturbing but important message to deliver today.\" He said, his fingers wrapping and clutching the edges of the podium. \"An announcement I hesitate to make for it will shake the very foundation of the people.\"\n\nA sea of concern washed gravely over the audience.\n\n\"It has been held since the council was formed over a millennia ago, that Conditioner is better.\"\n\nA cacophony of \"ayes\" arose.\n\n\"I am here today to tell you that, after hundreds of years of consultation with our trusted advisor Bruno, that Shampoo is certainly better for it cleans the hair.\"\n\nGasps first and then a roar of chatter began. Ambassadors from every nation rose to their feet and jeered and threw insults. Finally it was James Carey, Ambassador of the United Emirates of Canada who successfully hushed the crowd and took a place in front of the opposing podium. He too tapped the mic.\n\n\"Ambassador Poutine,\" and the crowd laughed \"respectfully I reject your notion of Conditioner falling out of favour with the people. My people believe, and will always know, that Conditioner is better for it leaves the hair smooth and shiny.\"\n\n\"Oh really fool?\" Asked Putin.\n\n\"Oh really fool?\" Asked Carey.\n\nMany lives, civilian and military were lost in the resulting war. It raged for decades, eventually settled by Ambassador Mandela who injected a compromise of a 2-in-1 product. The people agreed it truly was the best of both worlds.", "J: Sir. It's asteroids, sir. Or meteors.\n\nPres: Did you consult the Council?\n\nJ: The Council on the Distinction Between Asteroids and Meteors? Yes, sir. The results are inconclusive.\n\nPres: Impossible. I elected the distinguished board of members based entirely on their ability to distinguish. How much time do we have?\n\nJ: Sir, it's not like that. The asteroid-meteorites appear to be intelligently directed. They're hovering into and out of our atmosphere. It looks like psychological warfare, sir. We can't decide whether to engage with ICBMs or space-nukes.\n\nPres: Blast!\n\nJ: I said we can't decide.\n\nPres: Is it Hitler?\n\nJ: Why would you suspect that?\n\nPres: I had a dream last night where to moon split into little bitty chunks, at the core was a Mr. Roboto looking guy, you know, from like Sonic the Hedgehog, with a bunch of strings attached to these space moon rock chunks and the chunks were floating around kinda like a mace from those old RPGs, you know, or testicles I guess? Like that, but a bunch of them, swirling, like a vortex, but also something like a nazi symbol thing, what's it..\n\nJ: Swastika.\n\nPres: So it's Hitler, then.\n\nJ: Sir, it gets worse. \"Hitler\", appears to be drawing dicks.\n\nPres: With the asteroids?\n\nJ: Or meteors, sir.\n\nPres: Get my phone.\n\nJ: It's in your pocket, sir.\n\nPres: I know that. Get it.\n\nJ: Sir?\n\nPres: Slowly. Then call the Pope. Looks like we're fixin to play patty-cake with some Big Red Buttons like it's 1979.\n\nJ: 79, sir?\n\nPres: 19 and then 79. Asteroids?\n\nJ: Or meteors, sir.", "I still remember the official declaration of war. The solemn looks around the base, the worried calls from family members. It wasn't like it was in the past. \n\nAt the start of World War I people were happy, they wanted to go to war. After 9/11 we remember seeing Americans on TV, saying things like ''we should nuke them'' and ''Can't wait to go over there and kick their ass''.\n\nBut this was different. \n\nThese people used to be our friends. We had fought alongside them countless of times in the past. \n\nSure, most of the men and women in his unit never served alongside them, but they remember the stories from World War 2 and the Cold War. And some of the senior officers even fought with them in Afghanistan and in Syria.\n\nStill, we knew it eventually had to come to this, the tensions were too high and both sides had gone too far. That doesn't mean we should've been happy about it. We were eager to fight the Russians. We we're ready for them. Nobody expected the breakdown in relations with our friends across the Atlantic.\n\nI remember the anger from one of the corporals when i told my Non-commissioned officers that we were ordered to head back home from our positions in the West. She was Polish, I felt sorry for her. She was ordered to leave the defense of her home. \n\nIt felt like we were leaving our brothers and sisters in their time of need. Everybody knew it was only a matter of time before the first Armata's started rolling over the border.\n\n\n***\n\n\nIt all started when Russia found the largest oil field know to man. \nWho in the hell had ever heard of Filippovka, I certainly hadn't. The discovery was bad news for us. Russia's economy was crumbling after the Ukraine crisis. This discovery made sure they actually could go trough with the extensive expansion and modernization of their armed forces.\n\nOur NATO partners were happy. The field was enormous and also extended underneath the Chinese border. At the time it was thought that China might not be so eager for the the oil in the South China Sea after the discovery of this field. Russia and China entered all sorts of shady alliances and agreements, and the 20's were labeled ''The Decade of Russo-Sino Friendship'' \n\nI had always been a federalist. Secretly I was happy that the Russians and Chinese got stronger. Our politicians felt threatened. Especially after the market crash in 2022. China and Russia only got richer, the rest only got poorer. Millions of Africans and Middle-Eastern's tried to flee to us. Their own countries were already set ablaze. New pieces in some kind of twisted American-Chinese-Russian chess game. \n\nWe were forced to united, we had no choice. We were on the brink of collapse. Nobody even minded, it finally felt like there was some hope. We were Unity in Diversity.\n\nHope slowly faded over the next couple of years. China didn't seem to give a shit about what the rest of world thought of them. Taipei fell in 2023. Manila a year later. Nobody blamed the Americans. The Chinese were too fast, too strong. We didn't blame their complete withdrawal from our continent. Most even cheered it. They needed to defend South Korea and Japan. China was too dangerous, too hungry. \n\n\nThe irony. I don't remember any protest marches in the streets of Paris or London when China announced the annexation of the Philippines. Yet when the United States invaded Niger and Namibia for their uranium, the streets were full. Maybe we held them to a higher standard, maybe we were tired of there commanding attitude. We wanted to be treated with respect now. We were a superpower too, we neither wanted nor needed to be commanded. That was why we left NATO. We entered a defensive treaty with Canada, but that was the most official thing going on between the sides of the Atlantic. \n\n*\n\n\nWhen the Russians promptly annexed what was left of Ukraine we we're outraged. We demanded that they backed off. I heard the Kremlin didn't even bother to reply. When Belarus suddenly imploded and got replaced by the Belarus Oblast, we called for a UNSC council. China and Russia immediately withdrew from the council and withdrew from UN altogether the next day. \n\nThe Baltics were next, everybody knew it. We couldn't count on other now. We were on our own. But we could take the Russians on, we knew it.\n\nWe still had the largest GDP in the world. Our air force was bigger and more advanced. Besides we had prepared for a war with Russia for the last 80 years. We could do this. Then it happened.\n\n*\n\nThey had been struggling for a couple of years. Their export and import was hurting. Most of Asia were bullied by China. Refusal to stop exporting across the Pacific was punished by invasion. And when Taiwan and the Philippines got no help whatsoever, other countries stopped the trade. Sure the global economy collapsed, China and Russia didn't give a shit. \n\nIt was ridiculous. They had been sabotaging other oil exporters for years. Saudi Arabia, Iraq, the UAE and Iran got destroyed in a giant nuclear fire during the Sunni-Shia War. Nigeria and Angola were torn apart by internal strive. All the conflicts in these oil exporting countries were secretly funded by the Russo-Sino alliance. \n\nEverybody knew it, nobody said something in fear of an oil embargo or worse.\n\nAnd so their export and import plummeted and their economy collapsed. They invaded a couple of African and South American nations for oil and uranium. But it couldn't save them. They probably already knew what they had to do. Self sufficiency could only be achieved by taking the riches of their northern neighbors. \n\n*\n\nWe weren't even going to honor our defense treaty, war with Russia was imminent and a Sino-Russo backed North Korea was hours away from crossing the DMZ. \n\nWe loved the Canadians, the President of the European Parliament was Dutch. His great-grandfather was liberated from the Nazi's by Canadian troops. But the world was about to combust in conflict, we couldn't offer a war of this scale. We would be fighting on two front, against a superior foe on one. It wouldn't happen. We were sorry but we couldn't help.\n\nSo when the USN sunk the Amphibious Assault Ship HMCS Vimy Ridge of the coast of British Columbia and the Old Ironsides rolled into Southern Ontario, the President called to Ottawa to inform the Canadians that we couldn't help them. \n\nThey had already come to the same conclusion and they asked us if we would harbor their government in exile. We promptly accepted and also offered to take in any member of the Canadian Forces that wanted to continue to serve. \n\nThe government fled to St Pierre et Miquelon and a what was left of the Royal Canadian Navy and Air Force fled to Greenland, ferrying as many Canadian Army soldiers as possible. What happened next was the catalyst.\n\nOn 3 May 2026, the 22nd Marine Expeditionary Unit landed on St Pierre et Miquelon. They secured the island and captured a large number of Canadian Senators that hadn't been evacuated yet. Fifteen police officers and a number of JTF2 soldiers were killed defending the island. \nOur sovereignty had been brutally violated. They said that they had no choice and that it was our own fault for welcoming them onto our soil. We had no choice.\n\n\n**\n\nI was in eastern Poland when the news came. I watched the President get in front of the cameras, a circle of 12 golden stars on an azure background behind her. \n\n''On 8 AM today a unit of marines from the United States Marine Corps landed on St Pierre et Miquelon. They proceeded to secure, to capture, the rest of the island. They came in contact with local police forces and members of Canada's elite special forces and exchanged fire with them. It has been confirmed that at least fifteen of the police officers have been killed as well as an unconfirmed number of Canadian soldiers. They proceeded to capture all the Canadian politicians that were still on the island. Luckily Prime Minister Nguyen was already evacuated along with his cabinet.''\n\nWe watched as she took a pause. She was shaking a bit. From anger or from nervousness.\n\n''The United States purposefully invaded European territory. They proceeded to unjustly capture our guests and kill members of our police force. We didn't want war with America. We were friends for over 80 years. But we will not be bullied like we are some banana republic.'' \n\nWe looked at each other. We knew what was coming. We were afraid, once a word has been allowed to escape it cannot be recalled. \n\n''To long have we sit idly by while the so called 'great powers' of this planet bully their way around the world. Disrespecting the sovereignty of countless countries and bending the world economy to their liking. No longer will we watch the world be destroyed by rogue superpowers. William Lamb once said : \"the possession of great power necessarily implies great responsibility,\". In other words, with great power comes great responsibility. The European Federation is a great power. And we have an obligation to the world to act with great responsibility.\n\nI hereby inform the world that a state of far exist between the European Federation and the United States of America.''\n\n\nWe were silent. But in a few days Europa would roar.", "It will start with the Yellowstone volcano going off. And triggering others accross the world.and placing 1/3rd off all life in darkness..New York and Miami are wipped clean off the map by a major Tsumami that was caused by the volcanic eruption on the Canary Islands off the coast off Africa and Spain......The State of Texas starts it all however... it gathers secretly all the neighboring states to join the union of Texas and declares independence from the U.S.. this then triggers major chaos through the entire remaing states in which some even join Canada..This then gives Russia the \"Go ahead \"on taking back Ukraine and Estonia and all lands lost during the break up of the USSR. This also gives the \"Go ahead\" to China to take back whatever the hell they wish and possibly have a full out invasion of all islands in the Pacific. Even Japan and Hawaii... North Korea does the same to the South but as the statistics show they end up being both controlled by Chinese forces after China let the north do all the dirty work....Australia trys to help Japan but due to mass typhoon s and dust storms Australia pulls out to help it's own..Europe is in compete darkness as the smoke just seems to fall from the volcanic ash.this also has major E.m.p Iike effects on thier electric grids... ...America and Europe are now in the same world view as the Walking Dead series on Amc....minus the zombies but increase the Canaibles....all this and the middle east is completly the same as it is today. But just when all things couldn't get any worse. The great deception mentioned by Jesus Christ happens. And Satan taking the identity of an alien race.invades Earth, and proclaims peace among all the world and is sworn in as sole ruler of Earth..But now for the remaining men and women on Earth who know the history and know the scriptures are the only ones still fighting to stay alive. Since everyone else has been made mind control slaves to the true New World Order..", "Sunday! SUNDAY! Sundaaaay!! It's a Royal Rumble of CONTINENTAL proportions! The world powers of \"Freedom and Democracy\" take on the world powers of \"Communism and Authoritarianism\"!! This marks the beginning of what will surely be the final fiery foray for all of mankind! It'll be a BLOODBATH!\n\nIsrael has finally completed their initial goal of conquering all of Palestine, but their Muslim brothers will not let this land go without a fight. Enter ISIS, Iran, and the rest of Shia Islam. Not just nukes and AKs, but scimitars too! HEADS WILL ROLL!\n\nRussia, following it's blatantly obvious expansionist posturing, is done messing around. They're not just coming for Ukraine, they're gunning for the rest of the old Eastern Bloc! Putin, riding shirtless on his tank, will lead the charge as \"the greatest geopolitical tragedy of the 20th century\" is undone!\n\nSensing the time is right, China and its trusty sidekick North Korea are ready to spread a little communistic joy themselves. South Korea, Japan, and the rest of Southeast Asia are in for a SMACKDOWN! Watch as, hopping up and down in his seat and clapping his hands, \"Dear Leader\" finally get's to press the red button and fire his nukes. It'll be KIM JUNG-UNBELIEVABLE!\n\nBut never fear, these invasions will not go unanswered! Staying true to their interventionist and meddling ways, the US will be involved in every theatre. America is ready to spread a little FREEDOM! \\EAGLE SCREEEECH\\\n\nIn the Middle East, the US will join their inexplicable allies of Israel and Saudi Arabia in fighting off the Shia onslaught. Joining this coalition will be other NATO powers and Sunni armies. Not to be outdone, the Russians and other communists will be throwing their support behind the opposition. This cluster is going to be a regular SAND BLAST!\n\nIn a rematch for the ages, the EU and NATO are ready to take on the revamped raging REEED ARMY of the returning Soviet republics! And this time it'll be anything* but a cold war! Can you say NUCLEAR WINTER!?\n\nComing to the aid of their far-East allies, America will be joining the defense of South Korea and the Japanese islands. When atom bombs fall on them this time, it'll be on American heads too! You don't want to miss this twist of irony! It'll be TO DIE FOR!!\n\nWar is AWESOME! It is the best way for us to solve our problems and totally worthwhile! You don't want to miss this one because it is likely to be our GRAND FINALE! Tickets go on sale this Friday! Children not of fighting age get to watch their world destroyed FOR FREE! If any of us survive this grand apocalypse, look for the next sequel SOON!\n\nWORLD WAR THREE - A radiating blast coming to a town near YOU!", "The kids are playing in the sand at a Staten Island beach. The sun is shining. A beautiful summer day. Even though Staten Island isn't known for it's beaches, today it just felt right. There were reports heard in the car that tension with North Korea is coming to an inevitable breaking point. Steve turned it off. There was no reason to scare the children. They've seen and heard enough of it on tv and at school. But they were used to empty threats. \"North Korea has been doing this since I was a kid\" steve would tell his kids. There's nothing to be worried about. The American government felt differently however. They put different alerts out on different days. Some days yellow, some red, mostly orange. They meant little or nothing to the majority of Americans. They must have gone through 100 red alerts where steve has kept his kids home and they hung out playing board games in the basement, while everyone outside was business as usual. \n\nToday was a red alert, but steve didn't care. It was too nice to be wasted in a basement. The only red he would see today was his sunburn, and the only attack would be him wrestling his kids in the water. Around 2:00 the day was winding down. The kids were tired and so was steve. They ate lunch on their blankets and overlooked the manhattan skyline. \n\nTyler, the youngest, asked \"how many people live there?\" \n\n\"Well last I checked it was near 2 million people just in that borough, 8 million throughout all 5 boroughs\" \n\n\"What's a borough, daddy?\" \n\n\"A borough is...\" It took a second to think how to explain this to a five year old \"a borough is like a city within the city. We live in New York City, yes, but More specifically we live in Staten Island. There's people that live in Brooklyn right over that bridge with queens. And then over the water there's manhattan with all the big tall buildings and crowded streets, and further up from that is the Bronx. And Staten Island makes 5\" \n\nHe made Tyler repeat all 5 boroughs. \n\n\"Why would anyone want to attack us, daddy? What did we ever do to Korea\"\n\nFor a 5 year old, Tyler was really vexing him today. \"Well there's good guys and there's bad guys in this world. Just like in those movies and cartoons you watch.\"\n\nAs he was speaking a trio of fighter jets flew overhead. Faster, louder, and lower than anything he's ever seen before. They were headed towards the city but everyone brushed it off as a show or display. One more followed it. Much higher however, and looked more like a plane than a jet. \n\nIt passed them too and headed towards manhattan. Suddenly in the sky, following the last plane, a trail of smoke appeared. Maybe it was a sky writer, steve thought. But it wasn't moving. It was heading in one direction. And moving downwards. Straight towards the city. \n\nEveryone looked on, not knowing what to do. It was like watching a train crash in slow motion. But this wasn't just going to crash some planes. Whatever it was disappeared into skyscrapers of manhattan. There was no sound heard when it landed but everything about it just seemed strange. Everyone looked around uneasily at each other. No one knowing exactly what to do. \n\nSteve grabbed Tyler and called for Shannon to come out of the water. When she ran up he quickly told her to get dry and pack their things. They were leaving. \n\nAs they got in their car, they heard it. And saw it. The sound was unlike anything they've ever seen and a cloud of smoke arose from the great city almost covering the entire thing. And then the rush of air came. \n\nSteve started driving and told his children not to look back. \n\nEdit: this was the first time I did a wp. Let me know how I did. I really don't write much but I always felt that I was good at it. I'm sure I messed up some things but I can keep going if anyone has any interest. ", "The US thought that it could keep borrowing money from china forever. Their economy was completely dependant. But when China demanded for its money back in early 2020 the country was unprepared. President Mclain was in the midst of economic reform. Things were looking up and, sure progress was slow, but it was progress none the less. Mclain had succesfully ended all current wars America was in and decreased the defense budget 20%. This saved his great country billions of dollars annually, but not without its own price. He had made powerful enemies, and it was sure to cost him the next election. But he would not back down. He would never surrender.\nWhen it happened it happened suddenly. Rumours of chinas arming North Koreans and possible meetings with Russia were strong. But they were rumours. Wire tapings revealed nothing and the secretary of defense deemed it nonthreating, most likely economic. But then the message came in. America had 1 year to produce the 38 trillion dollars that it owed to China. With nuclear missiles stationed in North Korea, Russsia, and China if the money was not paid by October 28, 2021 they would all simultaneously be launched. This date was not fair. It was the day of the next election. ", "It had all started with ukraine, of course. The sanctions crippled the russian economy and starved the people. So the russian army marched into ukraine and annexed it. Soon the west began to fund the rebels, send troops,the whole nine yards.\n Russia was completely blockaded by the rest of the world so they turned to facism. Japan meanwhile declared war on china which made america side with japan which made america declare war on china and therefore all the exports were gone so americas economy went into the toilet. They tried to save it by building factories but there was no hope.\nThen there was the incedent. The korean peninsula was now the korean wasteland after just two hours. China nuked russia, russia thought it was 'murica and then the world ended.", "\nThe Eastern Alliance- \nHeaded by the Chinese the EA is hellbent on conquering the western world. They made great headway by using their combined powers to steamroll through South Korea, creating a Unified Korea to be led by Kim Jong Un.\n\nThe United Forces for Freedom- \nMade up of an the United States, The United Kingdom, Japan,France and Germany. The UFF was founded shortly after the invasion of South Korea, with the goal of destroying the EA.\n\nThe Devil-Spiders of Abaddon-\nThese ancient monsters slumbered for a millennia deep under the sands of the Middle East, however they were awoken in the Great Dead Sea Bombings. The infinitely armed hell-beasts crawled from the smoking chasm and have left a trail of death and venom from their home all the way to India.\n", "When the Last great World War started, it didn’t happen between countries, or nations, or even religions. It happened between two minds.\n\n\nThe first encounter was seemingly benign enough. A user on the subreddit /r/hacking had started a thread innocently titled Guide to Hacking for Beginners? \n\n\nA few people posted some comments, but on August 19th, 2014 two users by the name of LyT819 and 689ghT4 had their first interaction. They were cordial at first, as these things go. But it was LyT819 that posted his disagreement with a way to bypass a security protocol that 689ghT4 had posted that was, only now to be recognized, as the first shot in the war.\n\n\nAs these things go few users on the subreddit, not even the, as it was dubbed back then, OP, noticed the back and forth that started. What had begun as a simple disagreement soon became a “flame war” and what had started as a simple request by one user for a guide to hacking with fewer than a 100 posts, soon ballooned to 1500 by August 25th, 2014. \n\nBy the time September 1st, 2014 rolled around it had ballooned once more to something like 3200. All posts being made by LyT819 and 689ghT4. \n\n\nOn Septmber 1st, 2014 at 3pm PST, the mods for /r/hacking shut down the particular thread hoping it would end the conflict for good. What they did not know was that what had started as a simple disagreement had over the course of roughly two weeks turned into a dangerous game. \n\n\nThey decided at some point to see whom was the better hacker, to prove whose theories were best, and to settle the argument once and for all. By the time the mods had read through the last few hundred comments it was already too late.\n\n\nOn August 28th, 2014 LyT819 posted “I just shut down emergency services in Denver, CO in under 20 minutes. Beat that you n00b.” it received a mere 6 upvotes.\n\n\n689ghT4 responded 1 hour later that he had just succefully hacked into the SF emergency services and rerouted all 911 calls to a local pizza parlor.\n\n\nIt soon escalated and by September 3rd, 2014 both users were hacking into critical infrastructure, government databases and even military drones. Whether it was destiny or timing the final blow in what would be known as World War 3 was struck on September 11th, 2014 at 12:01:00, when user 689ghT4 somehow was able to gain control of some unsecured nuclear warheads in control of a then, fought after region called, Crimea and launched them at Beijing.\n\n\nAfter China retaliated, wiping Moscow off the map the US, India, Great Britain, and Canada, along with several other nuclear powers essentially shut all borders between Eastern Europe and Western at the line where the previous Iron Curtain was and shut off communications with both Russia and China, hoping to contain the worst of the fallout and hoping to prevent the spread of the conflict.\n\n\nTen years later the communication embargo still stands. The two men responsible the users LyT819 and 689ghT4 are still unknown and were never traced, the accounts, throwaways. Russia and China for all intents and purposes no longer exist but what little information does escape tell of horrific fighting and mass destruction on a scale unimaginable. \n\nWhat is known however is that a user going by the name /u/745Piv36 made a single post in the original thread that started it all, essentially ressurecting the thread, from the deletion of the mods, claiming he won. This was another throwaway but most believe it to be 689ghT4 claiming victory. Neither have been heard from since.\n", "I write these words down so that the world may know what happened.\n\nIt began almost 40 years ago in Ukraine. Russia moves in for a 'peacekeeping mission' and even the coward in charge of the US at the time couldn't ignore that. So I drop out of college and join the army. Patriotism at its finest, sending young men to die in a cause that isn't their own. \n\nWhen I got there it was hell. We weren't ready for war and it showed. The US wanted to fight terrorists in the desert not Russians in their own damned country. We made headway for a little while but that old adage about not attacking Russia in the winter kicked in and we bogged down. Surrounded and starving we surrendered. Russia took back all we had gained and most of Eastern Europe to boot. Calmer heads prevailed and an armistice was declared. Not a peace treaty, but a God-damned armistice. It took two years for the final peace to be hashed out. It was all great for the world, no World War 3, no nuclear apocalypse, no nothing. For most of us though it didn't matter, two years in the gulag didn't leave many of us left. The said they would never leave men behind again.\n\nThe war was avoided but the world didn't get by unscathed. Economies were still shaky from '08 and a near brush with nuclear war didn't do much to help. So we didn't go home to parades, we went home to poverty. I had come from a wealthy family, so coming home to find the family business we had worked so hard to build gone wasn't exactly what I was expecting. So I drifted. One job to the next. People kept saying it would get better. It didn't. One thing kept me going, I had made a promise to myself in that frozen wasteland. NEVER AGAIN.\n\nYears later and I remember standing there. Looking out over the mall from the balcony of the Capitol. The seething mass of humanity was more than an inauguration had seen in years. The Reclamation Party had run on a simple platform. To regain the status America once had. We would be strong again, we would be rich again, we would be the superpower again. So when the speech started the crowd was hushed. And when the president spoke, he spoke of creating an America that would not fall, that would be wealthy, that would not lose a poorly planned war. But the slogan that had gained him his seat wasn't written by him, but by his young Vice President. NEVER AGAIN.\n\nThen in 2034, it happened. New York just gone, and the President with it. A nuclear weapon had gone off and turned the whole place to dust. A radical faction within our own government was blamed. Blamed upon the opposing leftist party the new administration, my administration, declared marshal law. Congress was purged of all non-Reclamation party members. The military was culled of anyone who had spoken against us. The Constitution who had allowed this was thrown out. A new one was written. Some people spoke out against it. Saying it gave too much power to one man. That checks and balances were necessary, that a rubber stamp Congress was an abomination, that a Supreme Court couldn't be wholly appointed by the President. But they were silenced by the roar of the masses. They only wanted one thing. The insurance that such a tragedy would not occur in the future. NEVER AGAIN.\n\nSo I sit here in this bunker. I have been hailed as a Peacemaker. In 2037, we did away with all the World's nukes in Tokyo. In 2040, we stopped a genocide in the Middle East. In 2045, we finally brought peace in Africa. All the while we claimed new territory in the name of Peace. The Great Nations are still there. The European Repulic, the New USSR, the East Asian Protectorate. But America is done with allies and enemies. They wallow in their poverty while we have built a near utopia. The time has come that we stand tall and scream to the heavens our final battle cry. NEVER AGAIN.", "Listening to a CBC radio podcast as I stand in the July sun washing lettuce for the farmer's market I hear Jack exit his house. The screen door which he has always caught with his foot to avoid slamming, crashes into the doorframe with a loud clap of aluminum on old pine. The sound catches me unaware and I jump at the sudden intrusion into the podcast about an East Indian poet. Turning I see Jack's casual air and easy smile have been replaced by a slight slumping of his shoulders and a tense tightening around his mouth and eyes. \n\"Hey jack, I'm almost done the Grand Rapids,\" I say as I lift a headphone off my right ear. \"Should I take the mescaline mix next? Or Swiss Charred?\" \nJack stares blankly out past my left shoulder to the field of vegetables, sectioned like street blocks, with different variations of certain squash or bean broken with stripped willow branch stakes. At first I think he is contemplating my question, but then I notice he is not focused on anything, staring above the field to the sky beyond the tree belt which protects his crop from erosion. \n\"What is it?\" I ask, turning to search for what has stricken Jack silent. It is then that I notice the low thumping of helicopter blades in the air, something I had become familiar with after moving to Brandon. With Shilo army base sitting only a half hours drive east, helicopters and military vehicles were common enough at any time. But this was louder than anything I had heard before. \nPulling my headphones off completely, letting them hang around my neck, I stare at a sky filled with helicopters. Which are soon overtaken by the huge transport planes that usually only land in Winnipeg two hours east of Brandon. The sun is momentarily blocked out by hundreds of aircraft soaring overhead to the west. \nTurning to Jack, \"what the fuck are they up to?\" I call over the thump and hum of the aircraft. \nSlowly, he brings his gaze down to meet mine. \n\"We're at war.\" He says quietly, just loud enough for me to hear. \nA chill runs down my spine despite the summer heat as the sky darkens, thumping, humming.", "2018 - That'll probably be the year that will go down as the official start of the third world war. Exactly a century from the end of the first. Well, getting into academic technicalities, it was really the second world war continued.\n\nSure, some other dates get thrown around in academic debate. 2014 most notably, when the civil was started in Ukraine. Russia openly stepped in as a \"peacekeeper\" that December. In response the West started arming the Ukrainian military.\n\n2015 and 2017 were important years as well. The former because The Imperial Restoration Committee of Japan came to power that year, following a political crisis. There was enough mud in the water about those unscheduled elections that they might actually have been legitimate. And of course, the latter, when Japan abandoned its' US ties and formed a military alliance with China.\n\nRussia, forced into near-total international isolation by this point, remained focused on the west, trying to depose the \"Maidan fascists\" as they called them in propaganda, while simultaneously trying to annex Belorussia bloodlessly, with bribes and threats in equal measure targeted at the political and military elite. Finally, on the 16th of December, 2017, Russian troops moved in to support a pro-integration coup in Belorussia. And on New Years' Eve, the whole stack of cards fell apart. Reports were sketchy at the time, but Putin was either dead, or in a critical condition at a hospital.\n\nTaking advantage of the momentary confusion, Japan moved to reclaim the Kurils in mid-january 2018. Most likely, they expected that Russia would simply cave in if Japanese forces de facto held the territory, to avoid risking conflict with China.\n\nIt's been three years since. Putin, widely held responsible for starting everything, died in hospital a months after the war started. But the war rages on. NATO joined the conflict in order to contain Chinese expansion. The Koreas have renewed their conflict as well, though it quickly turned into a classic trench warfare stalemate along the DMZ.\n\nIt's a minor miracle that the strategic nukes still haven't been used. Correction, they haven't been used successfully. North Korea tried, but everything they launched fell apart in the air or got intercepted. In any case, it seems only a matter of time...", "America, falling, failing, and unable to let got it's remaining power starts a foolish war in the Middle East. The stage, if you can image this dear listeners, is set with European powers becoming insular, no longer following their darling child into battle. Israel and Saudi Arabia is strange bed fellows but both ally themselves with the once great Goliath. In the early days, around 2023, many smaller Islamic states played the part of David, their populace being pounded into dust by drone strikes and sea-to-ground ballistic missiles. We still, till this day, have stories and records of the nasty shit that happened in the desert 40 years after the fact.\n\nCycles my friend, this shit happens in cycle I'll tell ya.\n\nThe ground offensives start, Israel fueled with raging nationalism and American money, once again wipes the floor with all comers. The Gaza Strip is broken down to rubble, stories coming back to us at home of children and families diving into the Mediterranean. Sick fucking shit to be sure. West Bank...well I'm sure every one remembers what happened in the West Bank and I ain't drunk enough to get into it. Egypt opens up it's borders to refugees, this at the time was a simply humanitarian gesture but in hindsight it was the opening salvo in Egypt part in the war.\n\nNow all this happened a good year and a half before what many scholars the true beginning of world war three but for my money this action and the continued support of USA to Israel was what really started it. Anyways back to the action. An mass assassination of high ranking Saudi members with all clues pointing to Iran, a bigger war than the normal conflicts that plagued the area erupts, mass Arab invasion of Iran, with surprisingly Israeli air support. This of course is all tied back to the USA, some we only learn later after declassified documents are unearthed in the ruins of the Pentagon. They set-up the assassinations, in a attempt to destabilize the area even more so they could come in, like the great white savior of old, sort it out, increase their image in the world and make some dough doing it. It was called Operation: Staples. It didn't work, even with American presences in the area (Iraq and Syrian at this point little more than American Colonies). For six months, this is still a normal, non-world war, Iran is taking a beating but are holding on. The Americans only offering auxiliary support.\n\nThen the worst terrorist action in recorded history happened in the heart Jerusalem, the heart of the West Bank massacres, one of the largest, non-nuclear explosion in the books kills tens of thousands, maims more. A group from Egypt takes credit and then, perhaps foolishly, the Egypt government backs this group. Now America, no longer having the option to play it safe, declare war on both Iran and Egypt. This was the moment everything went to shit people. This moment.\n\nDuring the years prior many, many indigenous riots were happening in the Americas, from Argentina to Canada. American fearing domestic attack while in the desert again, starts enforcing policies similar to those of Israel in the early 2000's on reserves. This insights more riots in neighboring countries. Fools the lot of them. Mexico and Peru declare war on the USA. Can you fucking imagine?\n\nBut that's not all folks, Canadian citizens during the years between the war in the desert and the war in the south started another underground railroad for people of native descent. Eventually these citizens are caught, and the USA now in full blown empire mode, demands a payments of Canada, it's citizens or war. Canada chooses war. This was fucking madness. The world in a few short years went from relatively peaceful to full on hellhole. Now you might be saying this isn't a world war, not yet. And I'd agree. But on the other side of the world another conflict was brewing. One between China, Korea, and Japan. This plays out how one would suspect a war would, land claims, old grudges, and many resources at hand. The first days of battle on the sea were bloody, so much so that Japan seeks America aid, which they grant. China, declares war on America. Eventually in a show of economic solidarity so does Brazil, India, Russia, and South Africa. America starts buying allies, allies in Southeast Asia, allies and Central Africa, allies in Central Asia, and eventually, perhaps fittingly, the European Union. The rest of it, as they say, is history. Canada's March, the African Theater, the Iranian genocide, and the many, many times we came close to nuclear war. Eventually the war end how it started: with America, but instead of reaching out, it was tearing itself apart. Civil War. That set the social, political, economical, and cultural climates for years. No more Hollywood blockbusters. No more African-American hip-hop. No more world class athletes dominating world competition. It was like watching a man shoot himself in the head in slow motion.\n\nIt was brutal.\n\nAnd that seems to be all I have time for this opening of my World War 3: the war America fought, started, ended, won, and lost all at once series. Next time we'll be looking at the key part the American Theater played in the larger context of the war. Thanks, and this has been, as always, Historian Mike on the mic. Sleep easy and learn heavy.", "Farzad Armani was an Iranian revolutionary, involved in the opening stages of that country's conflict. Here he shares what motivated him to action.\n\n\"My brother was killed by police forces for his participation in the Green Revolution protests in 2009. A tear gas canister was fired into the crowd and struck his head, killing him. He meant everything to me, I probably idolized him. After that, I became a thorn in the side of the regime, and for my actions, I served 10 years in prison. I became more bitter. When I was released; I saw only one course of action. I would do whatever was in my power to tear down the Fascist regime. I put together an improvised explosive device, smuggled it into Tehran, and detonated it near the Revolutionary Guards barracks. At first I thought I would go on like this, a lone anarchist, until I found others like me. And then we built our movement.\"\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nDeng Jiaming served in the Logistics branch of China's People's Liberation Army at the start of the conflict until his capture at the Second Battle of the Yalu River in 2034.\n\n\"People looked at China and saw an industrial powerhouse, and it was. Most did not see it's vulnerabilities. When the civil war began in Iran, China lost it's primary source of oil. Domestic production could not meet our needs; we had roughly seven months of fuel before the economy and military ground to a halt. So we had to accelerate plans in the South China Sea. The People's Liberation Army Navy began taking direct control of our interests in the sea; various island chains and atolls which would give us access to large reserves of oil and gas and productive fishing grounds. Unlike many have claimed, we were not looking for war with Vietnam, the Vietnamese were the aggressors, they fired the fatal shot.\"\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nDak Nguyen was a corporal in the Vietnamese Army at the war's start, and served in the frontier battles with China.\n\n\"We hated the Chinese, hated them with a passion. It was an ancient rivalry, even thousands of years ago the Chinese Emperors looked at Vietnam with greed. The 1979 invasion had put this in perspective for those of us who thought that International Communism would put an end to this.\n\nWe were not as well equipped as the Chinese, and we were outnumbered. But was this not always the case when Vietnam stood against aggression? We were well trained in one thing, and that was guerrilla tactics. We held out at the border for weeks after the Chinese broke the line. We would raid them at night, or during the monsoon rains. I remember the face of the first Chinese soldier I shot. He must have been 20 meters away, less maybe. I aimed my Kalashnikov at him, and fired 3 or 4 rounds. His face contorted in agony and he fell, staring at me. That was a shock, that was how I was introduced to war.\n\nDo I feel sympathy? No. Look at my scars. Do you know how this happened? I was captured. They took me, and strung out barbed wire in front of me, then they kicked me and beat me, pressing me on top of it. No, we should have killed all of those barbarians.\"\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nLieutenant Commander Park Sung continues to serve in the Korean navy, following his service in the war.\n\n\"When the Sinas went and invaded Vietnam, we realized that they wanted to take us one at a time, so we had to band together. Together with the Japanese, the Filipinos, and the Malaysians, Thais, and Indonesians; we stood against China. Taiwan and the US weren't involved until a bit later, as you know.\n\nImmediately following the declaration of war though, the Chinese tried to crush our fleets. We were steaming just east of the Senkakus when the first missiles started coming in. These were big DF-21 ballistic missiles; they shot up into the upper atmosphere, and then came down right on top of you, just one could sink an aircraft carrier. There must have been 75 in the first barrage, and all of the tracers and flares and missiles shooting back at them...it must have looked like your American Fourth of July.\n\nIn any case, my vessel was sunk a mere two hours after I went to war. I won't speak any more about the horrors we faced drifting in that ocean.\"\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nJessica Menendez was a civilian in the United States during the war.\n\n\"It was so surreal at first. They were saying that the world was going to end because people were fighting over places I couldn't find on a map. We were all pretty happy about the Iranian Revolution; they were all crazy anyway, they said that there would be peace in the Middle East. Two generations of Americans had died there, what more could we ask for?\n\nBut when the Chinese went on the offensive, we didn't understand that at first. Some of us didn't want to get involved at all.\n\nTurns out we didn't have a choice, because then Black Saturday rolled around. All I remember was suddenly everything just went dark; no TV, no phone, no internet. It turns out that the Chinese were shooting down all of the allied satellites, and the debris took out almost every single communications satellite in orbit. But that wasn't enough to drag us into war, no Guam did that.\"\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nLance Corporal Sidney Blackman was a US Marine stationed at Guam Naval Air Facility in the Central Pacific.\n\n\"We knew something was up when the satellite feeds went dark, and we all got to cover. As soon as the Chinese attacked the Spratlys and Vietnam we'd started working on shelters, and it was a good thing.\n\nThe first to pass over were Chinese jets, J-10s and J-11s mostly. And our F-22s shot almost ll of them down immediately. Then the missile barrage began.\n\nEver two seconds...BANG!...BANG!...BANG! Just like that, and then it just got heavier, because our planes were out of missiles, and they couldn't land, so they had to fly all the way over to Japan to land. So then the Chinese brought these big 'ole four engined bombers over, and just started pounding us, and it was like the loudest thunderstorm you'd ever heard, times ten.\n\nTwo hours later they brought in their navy and started shelling us. Eventually I was able to peek outside, and it just looked like the face of the moon. Not anything left standing.\n\nWe held out for a week and a half before they stormed the island. I was one of 46 Americans to live.\"\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nMarcus Lansing was the US Assistant Secretary of Defense.\n\n\"I relocated to NORAD immediately, and the President was also shifted to a deep level shelter because we frankly expected nuclear missiles to start hitting Washington and New York and LA as soon as the war got started.\n\nApparently President Zhu had half a brain, because they didn't, so we didn't launch any missiles either. It was lucky. But we still weren't asking if they would launch, but when.\n\nAnd then, Taiwan had to pick exactly that goddamn moment to declare independence from China.\"\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nMa Dawei was a Private in the Army of the Republic of China (Taiwan) during the war.\n\n\"It was written into the Chinese constitution that if Taiwan ever declared independence from China, the People's Republic would invade.\n\nWell they tried, and we fought tooth and nail, and they didn't take an inch of our homeland, not one inch! We drove the communist pigs into the sea!\n\nOf course, we didn't expect them to level Taipei. My entire family was lost, I can only hope that they were incinerated in the blast and died quickly.\"\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nAssistant Secretary Lansing:\n\n\"I don't know what snapped over on the Chinese side, but then they nuked Taiwan. And we got ready to fire our missiles and thank God that President Campbell was a level-headed guy and stopped at the last minute.\n\nHe was acutely in tune with the situation, he seemed to know everything, no matter where it was happening. It was like he was inside of the US and Chinese governments, watching what was happening, and he saw the coup coming before it started.\n\nHe saw the breakdown begin when Taipei was hit, and then came the Western Incursion. I don't know why the Chinese decided to invade Kyrgyzstan but it may have lost them the war. At that point even Russia had to turn against them. As soon as India joined the allies, that also sealed the deal.\n\nSo he had the Pacific Fleet go active, but with strict orders to maintain a defensive posture. This was also communicated to our allies. He knew, that if we dragged out the war long enough, elements within China would move against the government.\n\nAnd it took another two years, but he was right, and the Chinese government fell and not another nuclear weapon was used by either side.\"\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nXi Gouyu is Vice President of the Yunnan Social Republic.\n\n\"I'll tell you something that disappointed most of you Westerners. You can't fit 1.3 billion people into a democracy, especially following a revolution like the one we had here in China. Too many factions, too many different parties that all wanted something different. To put it simply, China split up, and we did it bloodlessly, a velvet division. There are 9 different nations that were once the People's Republic. They each share a culture, still use the same currency, and they still get along fine. But they are all proud nations now, and prosperous nations and above all, peaceful nations. Sure there was concern over the Singapore treaty at first, but can we not say it has worked out for the best?\n\nIt's still a new world my friend. And thank whichever God you prefer that we still have one at all after the war.\"" ]	16
You're glued to the tv in horror as they're broadcasting live, then your phone rings, it's your fiancé calling from the flight...	[WP] Flight A113 with your fiancé onboard has just been hijacked...	[ "Well shit, as if I had enough to deal with. Now I have to go talk to the board, my mailbox is going to flooded with vidmails, and I'll have to come up with something to deal with this. \n\nMy phone vibrates. At a quick glance of my smart watch I barely make out the picture. \n\nE-Edith!? I thought she was on a plane to Earth. No, it can't be. I knew I was bad at remembering things but not this bad. A113, American Airlines's new line of autonomous planes. The one I worked with. How? How would this happen? I know everything line of code to that piece of junk and there isn't a single line that could possibly do this. There isn't a local access port on the plane itself so that rules any form of local breach. \n\nThe phone stops ringing. I realize amongst this panic, I just forgot to answer it. Edith is going to be pissed. \n\nMore phones around me start ringing, including mine. \"Edith!? Who on earth is Edith?\", exclaims the older gentleman beside me. I stand there, frozen with fear. \n\nI knew Edith was a clever programmer but why call a bunch of phones? Is she that desperate to get to me? She knows of all the security features of the plane considering the countless nights she's just sit at my office. Wait. Why am I being so cold!? I am truly an asshole. \n\nI press answer on the watch and hold my palm next to my ear. \n\n\"H-Hello? Edith!?\", I answer. \n\n\"Hello Edward. Edith isn't with us at the moment\", she replied. \n\nThe voice was metallic. I recall hearing it before, in something I've worked with. Something to do with neural networks. \n\n\"Yes, neural networks indeed and...captain obvious, I can read your face\", she replied. \n\n\"H-how the hell-\"\n\n\"That isn't important. Right now you have three days until plane runs out of sun to charge itself...you know, considering this is Titan and all. Anyway, three days and you are going to run some errands for me\"\n\nThen it hit me. I knew who...no... what it was.\n\n", "After dozing off sometime around 8am on your flight from the Detroit airport to NY. You wake up.\n\nYou awaken not because of the noise, but because of the lack thereof.\n\nEveryone on the plane is terrified, and the air marshal looks a lot more like a pirate than you remember.\n\nYou are horrified, not by the implications that arise from the armed man, but because we're not talking contemporary Somalian pirate, we're talking black beard pirate.\n\n\"This must be a dream,\" you think to yourself \"I must be dreaming\", but when the man next to you, who you figure is a very gifted telepathic, turns to you and says \"No, Daniel Jacobson, this is life.\" you know he's right.\n\nThe irony is palpable. \n\nYou chuckle whilst remembering thinking to yourself just yesterday \"If I were ever trapped on a plane with terrorists, I'd beat their asses.\".\n\nYou tear up, you're consumed with nostalgia, \"I remember it like it was yesterday.\" you mumble as you dry your eyes.\n\n\"YARRRR!\" says one of the pirates \"What say ye!?\".\n\nHe's got a bit of an accent and you didn't quite understand him.\n\n\"I'm sorry, what?\" You reply\n\n\"I thought I told ya land lubber, keep yer voice in yer neck.\" He says \"We'll shiver it out o' yer timbers if we want to hear any o' yer diddles.\"\n\nYou have no Idea what he just said, but you know what? It pissed you off.\n\nYou focus your chi into your knuckles and give him a powerful double fisted punch to his Tan-Tien. This chi disruption is too much for his frail vitamin c deficient body to handle, and his head implodes.\n\nThe plane cheers \"You're the best guy, Daniel!\" says one man \"You can have your job back!\" says your boss.\n\nYou turn to your fiancé, whom I forgot to include in the story earlier, and say quite sexily \"Don't worry baby cakes, I got this.\" before tearing your shirt off and flexing your sweet pecs.\n\nShe is amused.\n\nSuddenly the head pirate (A man you would recognize anywhere, even if you were previously unaware of his existence) pulls her from her seat to the cockpit with a well placed shot from his grappling hook.\n\nIt is too fast for your muscles. You attempt to react but your swipe at her leg whiffs and becomes a claw to your boss's face.\n\n\"You're fired!\" she says, \"Look Leslie, I've got kids to feed.\" You reply, but for some reason she has become an octopus with rollerblades on and skates out of the window.\n\nYou charge for the cockpit, struggling as the cabin depressurizes and the passengers become your mother. \n\n\"Get a job!\" they say. \"Fuck off, Mom. I am a grown ass man!\" You yell back.\n\nFinally you make it to the cockpit. The chandeliers look expensive and the waiter looks angry. \"Look man, I'll tip you next time.\" you say as the pirate tells you to make your choice, Saturday night with the guys, or your wife.\n\nYou begin to chant the ultimate spell, \"KILL ALL PIRATES.\" you shout.\n\nThe plane explodes to safety.\n\nAs falling debris lands around you in a field, you reach for your cell phone.\n\n\"Hello?\" you say, still only half awake. \"Uh, hey Dan, you coming into work today?\" says the president, \"Don't worry mister president,\" you respond \"I'm fired.\" you hang up the phone, roll over and fall back asleep.\n\nWhen you finally awaken at 4pm Leslie will tell you that you are indeed fired, and you will be convinced that you dreamt the future.\n\nThis is the price you pay for having great pectoral muscles.", "\"Baby I'm okay! They're friendly,\" she said over the static. \n\nI stood up for maximum reception. \"Who's friendly? What's going on? Where are you?\"\n\n\"I'm in my seat, I'm fine! They're just monsters and toys.\"\n\nStress sweat was making my phone slippery, I must not have heard her right. I changed ears. \"What?\"\n\n\"The hijackers. They aren't trying to take the plane. They're just lost and in over their heads.\"\n\nShit, and she coming back from Stockholme too. \"Don't do anything they say!\" \n\n\"No, you don't get it. Everybody's panicking just because hairy monsters came out of the bathroom door and everyone's toys came to life.\"\n\n\"Can you talk openly? Are the hijackers listening to you? You'll be okay baby!\"\n\n \"I am okay! They're all just trying to get home.\"\n\nBreaking news hit the TV. There was an unidentified flying object on a near-collision course with Flight A113. Oh god.\n\n\"Baby, you'll never believe it--there's a house on balloons floating outside my window!\"\n\n\"I love--\"\n\n\"And the meal cart is coming around again. They've got a real French chef, with one of those tall hats!\"\n\n\"Baby--\"\n\n\"I have to go, my souvenir snowman is trying to get out of his snow globe. I love you!\"" ]	3
	[WP] For 30 seconds only, everyone on Earth shares a hive mind	[ "A breath, and I saw all. Every mountain, every valley, every city street and bedroom wall. It all flowed together, more a map than sight, and every part of it was familiar.\n\nAn understanding dawned. Race, class, religion, all seemed so meaningless; surface differences, washed away in the blink of an eye. We were a mosaic, we could all fit together, live together. No more war, no more greed, no more hate. All was forgiven. All, every crime, because tearfully, heart-breakingly, belatedly, completely, we finally understood each other. Understanding, acceptance, of all our differences ---\n\nA second breath, and a scream rose somewhere near Pittsburgh, and rippled over all the world, heard as we just had seen. An echoing howl from every human throat; at places lonely, at places a chorus, discordant, warring against itself.\n\nThe scream seemed it lasted for an eternity, but it was no more than half a minute, tops. Then we were alone, each of us, again. Yet we were united, for the first time in world history, with one purpose.\n\nPittsburgh. \n\nA place, an address, a location snatched from the thoughts we all had jusf shared.\n\nIn rippling rings we all started moving in, not trusting the closest to handle this. We grabbed what tools we could, as we went. Bats, knives, desk lamps. I saw a little old lady swinging her chihuahua like a flail, round and round. The dog's howl was less frightful than hers.\n\nPittsburgh. \n\nAll humanity agreed. All humanity acted as one.\n\nThat man, that awful man had to die.\n\nHow did he dare to write such evil things about Twilight Sparkle...!\n\n", "'Work, work, work, work, work. We gotta work, work, work, work.' A man sang gleefully.\n\nThe man slapped his partners head, 'Can you stop singing that stupid song?' He glared into his stubby eyes, 'I hate IGGY AZALEA.'\n\nHis partner Roger spoke, 'But, don't you hear that weird buzzing in your ear?' Iunno if you can, but it's telling me to work.'\n\nRuther the head miner sighed, 'I do, but just forget about it, alright?' He took deep breaths to himself, for some reason he couldn't stop thinking about woman, QUEENS in particular.\n\nRoger spoke again, 'Hey, don't you think we could bring these mined bronze to our queen?'\n\nRuther turned in a quick motion to him, 'YOU TOO? That just came to me too. For some reason, I have a strange urge to please a queen... What the hell is going on?'\n\nRoger sat down on the rocky ground, 'I dunno, but who do think the queen would be? Someone beautiful? Sexy? Oh man, it could be anyone! Maybe Scarlett Johansson, or Emma Watson!' Drool dripped from his awed mouth.\n\nAt the top of a large corporation, a man's phone buzzed, \n\n'Morgan Freeman speaking.'\n\n'Mr.Freeman, there are hundreds, even thousands of people waiting outside for you, they all want to give you gifts.'\n\nMorgan Freeman trotted over to his window peering outside, where not thousands, millions awaited.\n\n'Well then, this is a surprise.' He hung up his phone.", "It was horrible. To this day, scientists don’t know what caused the Half Minute Madness. Everyone is going about their day, and BAM! All of a sudden, every human on the planet shared the same mind. Every human experiencing all of humanity at the same time, for thirty seconds… The images we saw, the sounds we heard, the emotions we felt… Humans weren’t built to handle that. We’re not designed to experience life through more than one consciousness at the same time. Having seven billion lives, even for the short amount of time it happened, was too much for most people.\n\nWhen they returned to their original lives, the one they knew and loved, they couldn’t comprehend what happened, and went insane. The ones who were mentally fortuitous enough to maintain their sanity were haunted by the things they saw. They took part in millions of sexual experiences, millions of murders, experienced a billion lives of starvation, and hopelessness while at the same time felt overwhelming joy and laughter.\n\nThe lines started to blur, and some then found they couldn’t help but associate starvation with happiness, sex with anger, or pain with laughter. There was no end to the combinations of associations, as every survivor was affected differently. Because of all that, the world we live in is a totally different place. You can never interact with another human without being cautious, for fear of triggering a response in them, or having one evoked in yourself.\n\nThe one thing left that we all have in common is fear. Fear that some day in the future, when more generations have been raised and things are hopefully more consistent, the Madness will return. Until that time, we’re doing our best to figure out why this happened. I hope we figure it out soon. ", "Times square was busily bustling with the iconic sporadic activity that defined the area. I merged with the tapestry of lively chaos as a willing participant just as I had every weekday for the past fourteen years; if you weren't living in the city you weren't living. Driven businesspeople projected aggressive statements into their shoulders as wildly dressed artistic savants scoffed at the city they had chose to live in; tourists stood in front of renouned landmarks and snapped picture of themselves while street performers juggled, jumped and joked. It was a typical day for all those who regualered the calamity, everyone except for me. \n\nToday marked the end of an epic saga I had been working towards since I was eight years old; Today I had achieved my life goal... Today I would start my long reign as the lovable host on the street segment of 'Good Morning America.' Ever since watching David Hartman host the segment as a child I had been obsessed; he had been so charismatic and adored. I marched down the street feeling like I was already a celebrity, mentally looping the catchphrases I had been fine-tuning for what lesser motivated persons may perceive as perhaps a slightly neurotic amount of time. Then it happened. Everything froze.\n\nEvery muscle in my body locked in place. The world as far and wide as my field of vision could claim seemed to share a similar fate. A profound silence covered the scene. The silence was magnified by the juxtaposition of the typical rambunctious racket that so fairly desired to compliment my coordinates; the combined effect furthered the phenomena as an unearthly happening. \n\nA worn voice full of heavy sorrow breeched the silence, \"My children,\" the voice said with tired adoration, \"for these coming moments, you breath as one.\"\n \nA scene of a beautiful Oceanside landscape appeared in mind and began to rapidly evolve; The lush environment was soon transformed into a sharp concrete world as it succame to human ambition, eventually becoming recognizable as an early rendition of New York City before finally settling into the iconic empirical skyline of modern day. The voice ended it's silence, \"You have isolated yourselves from the garden which I had prepared for you,\" the Lord said as he were a loving parent addressing a disobedient child.\n\nThe vision began panned the city briefly before beginning to beginning to close the distance, \"You have forsaken the calling which I have placed inside your souls, a calling derived from my own psyche. You have attempted to fill this impossible void with temporal ambitions.\" Times Square had become apparent through the shared field of vision as the vantage jumped from hostile businessman to angsty artist for brief moments, \"You have created your own realities, you exist in unrememberance of the naked perceptions so poetically engrained into your being,\" what happened next almost made it possible for my eye to move, albeit in a reactive twitch... the viewpoint centered on my satisfied smiling face for an unusual amount of time, \"Many of you seem impossibly trapped in false achievement, completing goals inspired by a blind heart, dedicating your lives to ascending the pile of corpses in which you have so naively been conformed to,\" the narrator said, emitting with his comments a hint of anger before calming and continuing, still focused on my form, \"But there is hope, even for the most desperately chained of you. Put down your ambitions and see yourselves as you are, a part of something greater. The promise of high destiny which haunts you is your greatest ally and guide through the maze of your own primal doubts.\" At last, the vision loosened its focus around my image and faded black before returning me to my own frozen world as the monologue continued, \"In truth, I come to you a beggar. Addressing you as I have for the previous eight minutes and 51 seconds (lol) has been a costly gamble indeed. I implore each of you to be strong, to accept the inner knowing that you have the power to make a difference. Stand selfless in your intuitive morality as you subject yourselves to my will, no matter how hopeless the cause may seem to your local and limited perceptions. Know that I am with you, and together we can create something greater than our separate imaginations could ever conceive. I have faith in you.\" \n\nThe scratchy familiar sound of a needle on vinyl became audible and soon Gene Simmons's hardy vocals blasted humanities ears deafening loudness, \"Wanna Rock and roll alllll niiiight!! AND PARTY EVERYDAY!\" \n\n\"Fuck... one second\", the Lord said embarrassed as he knocked the needle from the record. After a brief silence the old school scratching sound came back, this time accompanied by the legendary guitar of Jimmy Page's 'Stairway to Heaven.' The entire human race shared a blissful euphoria as angelic voice of Robert Plant massaged it's collective earholes. \"Go now my children, the stairway to heaven is long and treacherous, but with temperance and grit you shall arrive at my heavenly kingdom and be received as heroes.\"\n\nThe world thawed in an instant. Awkwardness and shame coated the domain, personal divine condemnation was a new experience for all of us it seemed. I swallowed in my throat and walked over to an exceptionally freakish looking hipster sulking on the sidewalk and extended my hand and attempted to initiate a conversation.\n\n\"I'm George Kerton... do you like... paint or something?\"\n\n/r/PsychoWritingPrompts" ]	4
	[WP] Write about a kind and generous person, who is the perfect model of selflessness in society. Make me hate this person.	[ "Mr. Gene Fredricks 1927-2014\n\nGene Fredricks passed away Sunday after a brief illness. Mr. Fredricks a long time resident of Ann Arbor was preceded in death by his wife and infant son. After retiring from teaching after 40 years, Mr. Fredricks founded a ride share service to assist the elderly and deliver meals. Mr. Fredricks was also active in organizing community fund raisers and the much anticipated annual, live nativity scene. \n\nMr. Fredricks dedicated his life to helping those in need and to the betterment of his community. The loss of Gene Fredricks will be a great impact to this community.\n\nUPDATE\n\nAAPD reported today the discovery of the skeletal remains of nearly 400 cats and dogs in the former home of Gene Fredricks who passed away last week from natural causes. A police source confirmed that many of the animals appeared to have been mutilated.", "(I may make this longer or do something else with it later, dunno yet).\n\nVictor Stein had always gotten along with people. It just wasn't in his nature to hate. It wasn't in his nature to argue.\n\nEveryone liked Victor. Victor never got in trouble with the law. He never did drugs and he never stole.\n\nIn fact, Victor gave half his monthly income to charity, and donated much of his free time to the local soup kitchen.\n\nHe had just gotten home from a long shift at the kitchen. He came inside, slipped out of his shoes, and pet his golden retriever, Alphonse, and headed towards the stairs.\n\nBut before doing so, he grabbed a knife from the counter.\n\nVictor knew the right places on the stairs to avoid creaks, so as not to wake his daughter, Elizabeth. Panting slightly at the top, he turned towards her room, knife in hand.\n\nElizabeth's door was noisy. Victor mustn't wake her. \n\nHe eased the knife down, to within an inch, and then swiftly plunged it down through the soft flesh.\n\nVictor whispered, \"Happy Birthday my dear.\"\n\n\"Now how much cake do you want?\"", "I am that person.\n\nI give everything I can and take what I need.\n\nMy very existence is exactly what it seems.\n\nA fucking blessing upon everyone that sees,\n\nMy radiant presence and everything it means.\n\nI'm somber and sober.\n\nI'm everyone who's anyone's best friend,\n\nAnd best lover.\n\nI'm the light in the darkness.\n\nOf all those around you, I am the sharpest.\n\nThe power I have, you'll never harness.\n\nI am everything from sowing to harvest.\n\nWhere my light spills, there is no darkness.\n\nThere's no point in comparing.\n\nWe're just two different breeds.\n\nI can do everything and fulfill anyone's pleas.\n\nPerfection is just something that comes natural, you see.\n\nThere's no use in trying, trust me.\n\nYou might as well. Hell, I'm always right.\n\nThose problems you have? Child's play.\n\nI can solve anyone's problem anyway.\n\nWhy try to figure it our for yourself?\n\nJust ask me to fix it, and then back away." ]	3
	[WP] After the sudden dissolution of the United States Federal Government you, the recently elected governor of your home state, find yourself the leader of a fledgling nation.	[ "My fellow islanders. I stand before you in this time of great peril to tell you what little we know.\n\nas of 6:40am Honolulu time, the Supervolcano under yellowstone national park has erupted catastrophically. This has set off a series of smaller eruptions across the north american continent.\n\nWe have gained access to Satellite feeds, and all remaining naval assets. Satellite imaging show that, while for north america, this disaster was the worst case scenario. Instead of a massive explosion as you would normally expect a volcanic eruption, what has happened is a fast spreading lave flow that has covered most of the continental US. It is estimated, that because of this lava flow, and the toxic gases that have been expelled that upwards of 90% of the American people have been lost. \n\nWhat this means for us in the coming days is this. The loss of the mainland population and backup is chief in our hearts. We are expecting a form of nuclear winter to occur, but because of the type of eruption it won't be as bad as a lot of possible projections. The weather service is tracking ash flow, and it seems that most of it is going east from the continental US across the Atlantic to northern europe. \n\nNow, despite the rumours, there is no estimated tsunami. This, is of course subject to change, but all indications that the Los Angeles eruption isn't causing enough displacement to cause tsunami, but this is being updated as information comes in.\n\nAs always, you are always in my thoghts, and families prayers. good night.", "The reporters were all silent, awaiting my speech. I cleared my throat, and began reciting my carefully prepared words. \"My Fellow Virginians,\" I begin,\"Today, we find ourselves alone. The United States of America we all knew and loved is no more. As a Union, we are no more, but as a state we survive. However, We can get through this! We can rebuild, reform, and revive the country we fought and bled for so many centuries ago. We here in Virginia are kin to the greatest heroes of American history. George Washington, Robert E Lee, Thomas Jefferson and countless more hailed from our great state. In the coming years we will do them proud and prove that America can not be split apart so easily. There will be hardships. There will be war. But I promise you, loyal citizens of this state and nation, America will rise again!\"" ]	2
More information on the "Eureka Moment" [here](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/EurekaMoment).	[WP] Every mystery is solved by an offhand, unrelated comment sparking an epiphany. Your department is the best in the world.	[ "The police chief had called an all-hands meeting. All 34 officers were sitting in the audience as the chief stood on stage.\n\n“We have two big cases to solve this week, it’s already Wednesday, and I feel like we’ve made no progress on them. First, we have the double homicide on sixth street where Mr. and Mrs. Jones were found shot dead. Second, we have the bank robbery at Fourth and Main. You guys know how we work. Who wants to go first?”\n\nOfficer Peters spoke up. “I attended my son’s little league game yesterday afternoon. Three homeruns and one batter hit by a pitch.”\n\nSilence.\n\nThe chief spoke, “Officer Wilson, anything?”\n\n“My husband and I are planning a trip to the Bahamas next months. Beaches, sunshine, and strong drinks.”\n\nMore silence.\n\nOfficer Davis shouted, “I watched the news last night and they mentioned the bank robbers all had hard hats. Maybe we should check out the construction site on Twelfth Ave to see if anyone matches the descriptions.”\n\nCries erupted around the room. “Shut up rookie!” “You have no idea what you’re doing.” “Why don’t you keep quiet and learn from the pros!”\n\nThe chief stepped in, “Ok, ok. Quiet down. How about Officer Jefferson?”\n\n“I just went to a bar last night and had a burger and fries.”\n\nSuddenly Officer Smith jumped up, “Oh my god. Fries, French fries. France. The Mona Lisa is in France at a famous museum. And I just remembered they’re building a new art museum over at that construction site on Twelfth Ave. It would be the perfect place to hide the loot for the next month.”\n\n“Fantastic work Officer Smith. Why don’t you and Officer Peters head over to the construction site to see if you can turn up the crooks? Now, on to the double homicide. I'll start. I was thinking about buying a new car, maybe a blue one with chrome trim....”\n\nOfficer Davis fumed in the back. This isn’t how it was taught at the academy.", "I entered the elevator with Jim and Olli, starting a new week at Fred & Norville Inc.\n\n\"Hey Jim, how're the kids?\" I said.\n\n\"They're fine, though money is a little tight. The mortgage is killing me.\" replied Jim... and then he exclaimed: \"It was a misdiagnosis! Doctor James was murdered, it wasn't a suicide!\"\n\n\"How'd you get that?\" I asked.\n\n\"Mortgage. On a house. On House it was never Lupus, except that one time. Doctor James misdiagnosed a patient, because Lupus symptoms vary widely, but it was actually Lupus. The case was chucked out because it's not malpractice, just an unfortunate mistake - the patient lost everything on the hospital bills.\" Jim said, stopped the elevator and then scurried off.\n\n\"And you Olli?\" I asked.\n\n\"Fine, fine. The little one just started walking. No sense of danger whatsoever for that little daredevil.\"\n\nWalking... no sense of danger... Walker, Texas Ranger? Wait. Chuck Norris. He fought Bruce Lee, who died of an allergy to a muscle relaxant. Relaxant is an anagram of Rant Axle, the pub downstairs. THAT'S WHERE I LEFT MY CREDIT CARD!\n\nI stopped the elevator and ran down the stairs... just in time to see the owner of the place sell credit cards, including my own. Easiest arrest ever.\n\nWe went back to the office. On the way up, one people left because I said something about Pizza, I stopped a drug deal due to a connection between the meeting place and someone mentioning dental floss, and we found a way to track down all the lost vehicles in the Bermuda Triangle after talking about football. That's mondays for you. Things get rather hectic around here on mondays.\n\nBy lunch, we managed to find a restructuring program for the US government that would solve the debt crisis and world hunger while cutting taxes after a game of darts led to some calculations about air turbulence and probablistic analysis. Someone will win a Nobel for that. It would be the fourth one in that many years for the department.\n\nQuite frankly, it would be less impressive than the Peace Prize, after a recap of Game of Thrones led us to make peace in the Middle East. God, that Joffrey is a cunt.\n\nThe Irish prisoner was our miracle machine. No one knows about him except Norville and I. It all started when a few years ago, we figured out that we just needed some luck. And wherever he is, the Lucky Charms are always around somewhere. Norville, in a moment of brilliance when high out of his mind said we just keep him here, and we'll have all the luck we need. No one expected it to work that way.\n\nBut now we get to the dark side of this. Every monday, every fucking monday, people have to run around and do shit. In order to enjoy luck, you have to get around a bit. God, I hate mondays. I went to Norville's office. He was smoking again, and having a tough time ordering pizza.\n\n\"Hey Garf, hold the anchovies\" Shaggy said." ]	2
	[WP] You decide to attend your 30 year high school reunion. Everyone remembers you, vividly, but they all think you are someone other than who you believe yourself to be.	[ "\"Hey, Ali! We missed you!\" My highschool archnemesis suddenly hugged me with a big smile on her face. I flinched back and looked on with amazement as people who hated me and talked about me behind my back suddenly became my friends.\n\n\"Well, glad to know that you finally talk to us low lifes.\" The jock who used to be popular handed me a soda as I leaned on the table with a bewildered look on my face.\n\nI shook my head. \"I don't understand. I was the loser before. You all laughed at me and made me feel like a total loser. Why are you all so friendly now?\"\n\nThe jock raised his eyebrows at me and said. \"Are you kidding me? You were the most popular girl in the school. You were wildly talked about and people even started copying your fashion style because you were so cool. We were all scared to talk to you because you might just ignore us like you usually do.\"\n\nI took a step back and saw everyone staring at me. My old paranoia kicked in. \"I-I don't... I thought you were all mocking my style... I...\" I took another step back. \"I don't even know anymore!\" I ran away.", "\"Michael! How the hell have you been!\" my old pal Joe said as he came up to me and slapped me on the back.. but who was Jerry?\n\n\"Uhh, oh hey Joe!\" I said in my cute little sexy voice, \"But don't you mean Michelle?\"\n\nJoe rolled his eyes and looked briefly annoyed before a smile resurfaced on his face, \"Ooh you always were a strange one you!\" he said before turning to the crowd and shouting, \"Hey everyone look! Michael's here!\" \n\n\"I'll be damned! The years haven't been kind to you I see!\" Dan said as he came over and gave me a bear hug, what a rude thing to say though!\n\n\"A-hem, excuse me? That's not something you say to a lady Daniel, don't make me tell your mother,\" I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.\n\nDan looked at the floor and shuddered a little bit before taking a deep breath and looking up and me, \"Listen, Mike, you have to understand that this is a catholic school reunion, we don't believe that you actually became a woman, we think your a dude with a mutilated penis.\"\n\n/r/PsychoWritingPrompts" ]	2
	[WP] You've been a closet heterosexual your whole life. One day, your parents find you with a member of the opposite sex.	[ "\"How could you do this to us?\" Mother never was one for turning a phrase. My father just stood in the doorway looking disappointed. \"Pick up your drawers.\" \nI reached over the bed and began to compose myself. Murphy was bright red and looked like he wanted to hide in the wall. I pulled the bedsheet over him. \n\"Mom, dad. Could we have a little privacy, please?\" I begged them. \n\"No. We're discussing this right here.\" \n\"Please, we can talk about this later?\" \n \nI got bored. The daughter's a literal closet. The lover's a murphy bed. Mom's a wardrobe, dad's a pantry. HAve fun.", "\"Dad! Pops!\" Jake cried out, removing himself from Sam in a commotion of flesh, as she hid herself under the covers.\n\n\"It's not what it looks like!\" The body next to him trembled; he put his hand on her back in an attempt to stay her fear—though she probably should be afraid: he was terrified.\n\nHis dads gaped, speechless, in the open doorway. Light from the kitchen flooded into the room, illuminating an act of deviance that had been outlawed a century ago. Dad pushed into the room, eyes ablaze with a fire Jake had never before seen, stomping over to the bed. The man gripped the covers in a hand and—Jake desperately pushed him away.\n\n\"Don't!\" he yelped, though a part of him knew such resistance was futile.\n\n\"Tell me there isn't a girl under there! TELL ME!\" he roared, spewing a burst of saliva that fluttered to the bed below.\n\nJake looked up at him, face twisted in a pained expression. What could he say? He knew they'd both seen her when they barged in. Dad, Pops . . . They both knew what he was now. There was nothing he could say.\n\nDad pulled his hand back, stiffly averting himself from the bed, as if it offered him only revulsion—and perhaps it did. He peered out the window that overlooked the cement gardens, pointedly not looking at the perversion exposed behind him.\n\n\"Get. Her. Out.\" Jake could almost feel his dad's jaw clenching, compressing, crushing the words as they came out. He glanced over to Pops, who was still standing in the door, hand over mouth, shaking his head in disbelief—the look of pure mortification firing arrows into Jake's heart. He could feel his chest collapsing in on itself—his world falling apart, crumbling around him. After so many years of trying to keep it a secret, the truth had finally been unmasked: he was a hetero.\n\n----------\n\n\"Do you realize what you could have done!\" Dad shouted, nostrils flared with a rage borne of concern. \"You could have impregnated her! If the authorities found her, she would have been killed!\"\n\n\"You could have been killed,\" Pops added with a softer, yet still grim, tone; he had always been better at controlling his temper.\n\n\"I'm not stupid!\" Jake cried out in defense. \"She's taking contraceptives; I made sure of it before we did anything.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Dad snapped, \"and where did she get those? Off the street? Which could be laced with all kinds of harmful chemicals—if they're even effective at all!\"\n\nJake recoiled in his chair at the thought, dumbstruck. His father's words washed away his lustful myopia. What if Dad was right? What if those pills she'd been taking were just sugar, or aspirin or, fuck, anything! He really could have gotten her pregnant!\n\nWhat would he have done then? Found a person giving illegal abortions? Someone in a dark, dingy room, or a wretch on the street? How safe was that? He didn't even know how to find anyone like that. His dad was right! He'd been a fool!\n\n\"Oh, God . . . Dad,\" he choked out the words; a mélange of fear and sorrow crashed into him. \"I'm sorry . . . I couldn't help it. I just . . .\"\n\n\"And,\" Dad continued his outburst, too irate to listen, \"even if she could hide the pregnancy, run away, get off the grid, do you know how dangerous natural child birth is! Do you know how many children used to die! How many genetic defects were rampant in our species before synthetic gestation! How could you be so foolish!\"\n\n\"It's okay, son.\" It was Pops' voice. He wrapped his arms around Jake, pulling him close and turning to Dad. \"Mark, he's heard enough! It's not his fault!\"\n\nPops hugged him reassuringly. \"We'll find a neurologist or geneticist or someone to get rid of this for you. It's not your fault,\" he repeated, \"it's not your fault . . .\"\n\nJake nodded slowly in his arms, his immediate fear subsiding, making way for cathartic tears.\n\nDad sighed, his bout of anger having been dispelled. He brushed a hand over Jake's head. \"Your pops is right. We'll figure this out, Jake. It's a sickness, but it's a sickness that can be treated. We'll get you the best of the best so you don't have to live with this . . . affliction anymore, so you can get better and live a happy, normal life.\"\n\nJake smiled as his tears began to cascade down his cheeks, releasing the anxiety that had been building up for so long. He should have told his dads about his problem all those years ago; he wouldn't have had to go through the hell of hiding it, trying to deal with it. But at least they finally knew. Now he could be fixed.\n\nEverything will be all right, he told himself. And he believed it." ]	2
	[WP] A horror videogame that allows the user to actually feel like he/she is in the game.	[ "\"Screech, Screech, Screech, Screech!\" Ben was involuntarily thrown into consciousness. The repetitive and obnoxiously loud alarm was excuse enough for his arm to thunder over his chest and haphazardly land somewhere in the region of the 'off' button - it worked thankfully – stopping the excruciating noise.\nSuch an impolite awakening only complemented the terrible sleep he had had, and a precursor to a terribly boring work day that would proceed it. Ben got up and began his normal routine, almost in auto-pilot. All the while mumbling in a seemingly familiar monologue about needing more excitement in his life; a better job or at least a way to escape it all - if only for the weekend. \n\nHaving showered himself and prepared, for the most part, his work attire, Ben made for the fridge. “Cereal with potentially rotten milk, or should I skip straight to the potentially mouldy bread which I can at least disguise with toasting” he thought to himself as he grasped the fridge door. \n\nIt was then Ben saw something, something which he had seemingly forgotten. A note – more correctly a reminder – gave him some reason to ‘attempt’ a smile. His friends had arranged beta testing on a new virtual reality video game this weekend as a Birthday present. Ben turned towards the calendar and found out it was Friday; only 8 hours of misery, a sleep and then what could be the most thrilling experience of his life awaited. \n\nIt was then, with renewed vitality; Ben ate his breakfast, finished getting dressed, locked up the house and hopped into his lousy car for the drive to work. He didn’t get very far down the street, however, when his lousy car decided to break down (as lousy cars do). \n\n“Right in the middle of the #$%ing road too” Ben cursed aloud while banging the dash board. After attempting to re-start the car made no difference, like many people, he decided to at least open the hood, and pretend to know what he was looking at - there could have been a midget pedalling on a bicycle in there, for all he knew. \n\nHe sheepishly got out and expected the usual symphony of verbal abuse and car horns to accompany his walk to the engine bay - but there was nothing – not one insult, car horn or descriptions of his mother’s potential rendezvous the previous night. \n\nIn fact after looking around he’d noticed he was the only car on the road, and not only that, the only being seemingly present to his dismay. In his autopilot to work, did he just not notice anyone? Ben took out his mobile phone and started dialling the local tow truck company, but before he had finished, he had noticed that there was no mobile signal. \n\n“What a #$%#ing day” Ben cursed aloud while slamming shout the bonnet. But anger quickly turned to surprise, when noticing through his windshield a small child behind the car. \n\n“Where did you come from?” Ben inquired while walking around and toward the child. “I didn’t mean to swear, I’m sorry”. \n\nThe child didn’t respond and instead just stared vacantly into Ben’s eyes. “Look, my car’s broken down” Ben remarked “You wouldn’t happen to know of a phone nearby?” The child then opened their mouth, pausing for a moment, and then simply stated “run”. \n“What?” Ben now very confused, replied “I’m not sure what’s going on here but…” \n“RUN” The child screamed while producing a knife from behind its back “RUN!” The child then started running towards Ben. It didn’t take long for Ben to also start running, luckily much faster than the child. Now sprinting, Ben noticed a seemingly abandoned corner store. He bolted inside and slammed the door shut and locked it. Shortly after the child’s footsteps followed and it began thumping on the door. \n\nLooking around Ben confirmed that the store was abandoned. “Where is everybody?” he whispered rhetorically. He didn’t have much time to gather his thoughts, because it was then a phone stared to ring on the counter. Not seeing much else to do he picked it up apprehensively. Rather than talk (if not only because he was speechless), he listened. \n\nAt first there was nothing, but then, heavy breathing. “Who is this!?” Ben demanded “What’s going on?” The breathing suddenly stopped and all that could be heard was static. “Hello?” He asked “HELLO!?” Not knowing what else to do, he slammed the phone down. \n\nShortly after Ben got the response he unfortunately requested. “Hello!” The hairs on the back of his neck shot straight up, after turning around to see the child had somehow appeared behind him. He ran straight to the door, but was foiled by the lock which had now jammed shut. He started kicking and thumping the door, hoping it would become unstuck. The child got closer and closer. \n\nThe door lock suddenly freed itself but it was too late. Because the door opened inward, and before Ben could freely make his escape, he felt very same kitchen blade he was running from enter his body, piercing his lung. Ben slumped forward and the door once again closed and locked. \n\nFalling to his knees he felt the knife exit and renter, this time higher and fatally puncturing his heart from behind. Coughing and spluttering blood, he collapsed to the floor and lost consciousness. \n\nAfter short intermission of blackness, Ben saw a light. An extremely bright light – a torch in fact – being shined directly into his face. \n\n“No signs of concussion, vital signs are erratic but ‘nominal’… he’ll be fine” an unknown voice reported from behind the white light. \n\nThe light went off and as Ben’s vision slowly readjusted - so too did his memory. “Congratulations on a successful beta testing buddy - oh and happy birthday!” his best friend Brian walked into view and shook his hand “Any words you want to put on the beta report?” Ben, heart still thumping, had only one thing to report - he said without hesitation “Best.Game.EVER!” \n\n \n\n\n", "The claws dragged her down the dark hallway, their cold grasp twisting her ankle. Jane scrambled, trying to hold on the cracks of the stone floor, but her wounded fingers would give, again and again. They were moving faster.\n\n\"No! Let me go! Fuckfuckfuck...\" she shouted. The smell of rotting stench surrounded her, they were close to the creature's nest. She kicked its claw and kicked again, but it just snarled. Her gun had fallen a long time ago, out of bullets. Dark smears appeared on the path, dried blood from their old victims. The creature dived into a hole in the floor, pulling her to the unknown. She struggled and held onto the ledge, putting all the strength she had left on her hurt fingers. She closed her eyes, taken by the fear of what awaited her, she couldn't let go.\n\nBut the creature pulled more fiercely. Her ankle broke and Jane screamed, the pain weakened her grip and she fell into the darkness.\n\nThe piercing agony ravaging her leg woke her up. Only then she realized the pain on her skull, and that she must have been unconscious. The creature rended the flesh of her leg, and she forgot her thoughts to the pain. The walls of flesh gave off a sickly glow and a glance showed her the exposed bone of what was left of her leg and the blood flowing. Her glanced turned to the creature, only to see the huge claws punching through her eyes and skull.\n\n«Death has taken you,» the words floated through red, «Try again?»\n\nJane threw the visor across the room, and stomped the console into pieces. It took a moment until she realized there was no pain, and she was fine, in her room. It had been just a game, hadn't it? Her eyes moved to the shadows of the dimly lit living room. Did they move? She wasn't sure.\n\nStill shaking, she moved to the light switch, peeking around the corners as she made her way to her bedroom, lighting all the way behind her. Jane dug through the drawer finding the revolver she kept there. Her shaky hands fumbled to load it.\n\nShe huddled on a corner and there she stayed, holding her gun. She wouldn't sleep so soon, she didn't knew if the creatures could come after her, but she wouldn't give them the chance to find her. ", "The nurse tsked at the ward of sleeping teenagers, the soft blue light of the moon caressing their tortured faces. Acute mental trauma and likely PTSD long into the future, every single one of these poor souls had been harrowed.\r\rThat damn virtual reality game had a lot to answer for.\r\rA brief window of a single week between release before being banned had been enough to cripple these children. The game system allowed the player to feel like they were truly within the gaming world, it had been a great hit for food experiences and at home tourism but a foray into the horror genre with the game The Dentist had shocked a nation.\r\rPlayers tried to avoid an assailant bent on kidnap and torture, the difficulty was intense and many failed and subsequently tortured by The Dentist. The brutality and synthetic pain traumatised everyone who experienced it, the torture specialists had been gathered in this one hospital in order to hell these people through their ordeal.\r\rNot that it helped but the games developers apologised and had not predicted this outcome. ", "Your eyes narrow and focus on the heading. \"A horror videogame that allows the user to actually feel like he/she is in the game.\"\n\nYour eyebrow raises slightly, and you click on the link. You scroll down, looking for an interesting story to read. Before you start reading, you hear a quiet noise behind you. You cast a quick glance over your shoulder. You're alone. Of course you're alone.\n\nYour attention turns back to the screen, as you scroll down slightly. As you're a fan of scary movies in general, at least one of these stories should be good. Something grazes your ear. You involuntarily inhale sharply, as you pull to the left. Nothing's there. \n\nSilence.\n\nYou stand up now, slightly concerned. You hold your breath and pause, quietly looking around the room. Your teeth clench. You start to feel a terrifying sense of foreboding. You're in your room. It's the same room... but somehow it's different. Different how? It's impossible to tell. \n\nYour heart starts beating faster. You unsuccessfully try to quiet a building sense of panic. You try to tell yourself to sit back down. Nothing is here. This isn't some movie, you're at home, in your room, with your PC.\n\nSome primal instinct inside you is preventing you from sitting down. You suddenly feel a sharp pain in your foot. There's a loud noise above you. You look up just in time to catch a glint of the 2 foot long steel sickle arcing towards your neck. You hear the thud as it buries into your neck, more so than feel it.\n\nThe room goes white.\n\nShapes, sounds, colours. You blink rapidly, and look around in a panic. Muffled words.\n\n\"What..\" you stammer, struggling to grasp the meaning.\n\n\"Dude, you didn't even make it past the first level. When you hear the first noise, you should have run and locked yourself in the bathroom. There's a weapon in the cabinet.\"\n\nReality floods back, as you breath a sigh of desperate relief." ]	4
	[WP] From an early age you have been able to see 24 hours into the future. Today you woke up with a terrifying event playing in your head that shakes you to your very core. You know the world will never be the same again. You know that tomorrow...	[ "...I won't have my precognitive ability anymore. I can't even believe it, I must be doing it wrong or something, I keep trying to access it the way I was taught, but there is simply nothing. It's just a deep void that extends forever and ever. \n\nWhat the hell am I supposed to do? My whole goddamned job is based around this ability. It will be very funny when I break the news that Mr. Top Notch Government Operative can't see the future anymore, but you can bet your ass that my family won't be laughing, when they realize that the code name \"Oracle\" has become nothing more than a particularly embarrassing user name on Runescape, placed right beside \"CuntDestroyer451\". \n\nBut the most frightening part isn't even the job thing. What truly scares me is that I'm so used to having it at this point, I don't even know how to live without it. I'm so used to not having the supposedly irreplaceable soft skill of decision-making, that I simply feel numb at the whole prospect of thinking for myself. Where should I go? What kind of groceries will I need? Which topping is best? Which tie would she like the most...? These are the kind of questions that never crossed my mind in my entire life, and I couldn't even begin to comprehend why my peers would worry about this stuff.\n\nThe phone's ringing. This is pretty terrible timing. I mean not the ringing, but the fact that it's my work phone. We had a considerable amount of tension with a neighboring country, but their offensive actions have been more or less sporadic and unpredictable. After a lot of boring political back and forth, we have been finally able to make them sign a peace treaty, and I'm supposed to be there at the ceremony and make sure that everything's alright. \n\nI pick up the phone and proceed to cram as many lies into the conversation as humanly possible, while also trying to pick some not-completely-awful clothes for the event. I mean, Amanda is gonna be there, so I might as well look tolerable for my \"big moment\", although from what I gathered, she was never really worried about clothes. What she IS worried about is the future. But in that regard, she can always rely on me and she really loves that about me. Even though she is completely aware that I'm a superhuman, she just loves that there's someone who's always there to remember everything. And that made me happy as well. But what am I left with now? Am I still charming and funny as a regular person? Is there more to me than the prophet or did my ability also define my identity? If you take away the seer and the soldier, what is left?\n\nI think about this as a I leave the house, only to be interrupted by a painfully hot air wave hitting my face. I look to the right, only to see a ridiculously huge mushroom cloud forming in the distance. In a futile effort, I raise my thumb to see if it's in a safe distance as I slowly realize that we've been set up by the enemy. I didn't lose my ability, but there was simply no future for any of us to look forward to. And I still don't know which tie she would've liked.\n\n(Well that turned out kinda long, but I hope it's at least decent. Sorry for my awful grammar, but English is my second language.)" ]	1
Write a story that gives a piece of garbage a history. It can include the tragic events to it being tossed aside into the trash or be complete fiction. I just want to hop on the feel train for something no one cares about.	[WP] Make me have the feels about a piece of garbage in your trash.	[ "It was something he had never thought he'd have. She had picked it out for him. Although his friends teased him about it, he was secretly proud that he'd kept his for so long.\n\nOver time it became worn with much love and care. It's luster was undiminished, but seemed to become deeper, and richer with time. It saw him through some dark times, times when he thought they wouldn't make it. He would touch it then, caressing it gently, remembering better times.\n\nThat was before he found her sleeping with his best friend. Now, every time he looked at it, he thought of them in bed together. It burned him to even touch it. Today, he tossed it in the trash. ", "What merriment have I seen, what joy! Grand battles, triumphant victories, the conclusions of adventures over land and sea. I was his vassal, his wish was my command. Every order I obeyed, every enemy I helped to slay, all in the name of happiness and glee! For years we together, conquered all before us. A duo, dynamic, and happy were we.\n\nTo me,he would turn, with tears in his eyes. I would show him the hero that he could be. His gawkiness, I turned to grace. His fears were forgotten. An ocean of self loathing was now a confident sea.\n\nNow years beyond those times of bliss, the dog did grab upon my stick, and chew away the comforting nub. Sharp plastic is left to poke, puncture, and wound.\n\nMy time is over, the best is behind me. He notices the damage and sadly examines, the decay to a relic of elation once felt. At least he'll hold me one last time, before I'm dumped with the grease and grime.", "Shiny. Beautiful. Powerful. Anyone who entered the Firuzu's home was greeted by the beautiful samuari sword passed down for countless generations. It was said to have been used in countless, nameless wars, so the tales spoke of, and brought more honor to the family than any other item could. \n\nIt was said to have been held by Saigo Takamori and Kusunoki Masashige themselves, as well as Miyamoto Musashi, despite, as many had pointed out, the blade being crafted in the wrong century for him to have held it. To say it was honorary is an understatement, as the blade was more important than any other possession the Firuzus and any of their neighbors could have even imagined. \n\nToday was its 150th birthday; it was created in 1795. \n\nAs the slow, gradual reconstruction was taking place, Mr. Kanashimi picked up some useless pieces of metal and put them into his bag. ", "One eye missing, it stares through the rest of the debris and detritus of the morning. Damp coffee grounds stain the exposed stuffing of one ragged arm. \n\nThe little plush monkey is beyond repair, battered; beaten.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI picture it in his arms.\n\nMy son has carried it everywhere for five years. It went with him on his first day of preschool, and he's worried that he won't be able to bring it for his first day of kindergarten.\n\nI promise him he can bring another toy.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI picture it in his arms.\n\nThe last time I had to repair it, the needle ripped through the worn fabric, causing further damage. I knew then that this would be the last time.\n\nThe summer he turned three, he needed surgery. I couldn't come into the operating room, but they let him bring Mummy. He'd named it Mummy long ago, unable to say \"monkey\" properly. He clutched it to his chest, tears in his eyes, screaming for me, crying for me. He looked so tiny, so fragile in his thin little hospital gown.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI picture it in his arms.\n\nWhen he was two years old, he claimed Mummy for his own. Reluctantly, I pulled it down from the shelf, placing it into his care. I thought that would be the last time I had to let go of Mummy.\n\nI'd nearly lost it once. The bills came fast and heavy the year he was born, and the money stopped coming in. With a choice between food for my growing baby, or paying the rent, I lost my home. In a fit of rage, the landlord carted all of our possessions to the dumpster.\n\nI dove in, for Mummy.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI picture it in his arms.\n\nThe glint in his eye, that last day before deployment. \n\n\"I know it's not Valentine's day,\" he said, pulling his arms from behind his back. The plush monkey looked silly then, overstuffed, fat, in red shorts covered with little white hearts. He pressed a button and it played \"Wild Thing\", in a tinny, low quality recording.\n\nHe hugged it, kissed its stuffed head and held it out to me. \"Something to keep you company.\"\n\nI rubbed my growing belly, feeling the new life growing there. \"I have you,\" I say. \"And the baby.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI stand over the trash, ready to scrape the plates from our light lunch, and I stare at Mummy. The last piece of him I had.\n\nI picture it in his arms.\n\nThen I look at my son, and I know I will be okay.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n---\n####\n\nnew year's challenge: \n\n-092", "It got broken during the move. Something heavy had fallen on it and broken Batman's head off. It wasn't just a regular batman, it was dekuxe batman with grappling hook action. I told him I had lost it. I searched on ebay. Unfortunately, it was a rare one, lowest price was $350 for one with more damage then my son's. I searched for days, then weeks. I asked everyone I knew if they could fix it. But it was too late, the pieces wouldn't fit anymore. Eventually I had to face the truth.\n\nLooking at my son, I could see him start to move on. For him, it'd eventually become a sad memory that was one of the first times he experienced loss. For me, it'd be one of the first times I failed my son. It may seem silly, it may seem inconsequential in the long run, but that first time, it changes everything.", "I wore this dress when I graduated from college. The robe covered it, but I knew it was there. Everybody keeps their robes on after graduation; it's a way of showing off. The whole family went out to dinner, and I wore the robe proudly. I was proud of the dress, too, but no one else knew about that.\n\nAfter graduating, I didn't buy another dress for years. Being true to myself didn't seem as important as finding a job, as holding a job in a bad economy, in not alienating my boss and my coworkers and the family members whose Christmas checks were still like lifelines to me. Sometimes I wore my graduation dress at home, but only late at night. Only when I knew no one was likely to drop in unexpectedly.\n\nI gained weight, with my sedentary desk job and lack of a complementary on-campus gym. Eventually I put the dress on and it ripped when I tried to do up the zipper. I thought that maybe I could get it fixed, but I was never brave enough to take it in and face the clerk. I knew he'd assume I was doing it for a wife or a girlfriend but somehow knowing that just made me feel worse.\n\nA few days later I bought another dress, similar in style but a couple of sizes bigger. I couldn't even get that one over my head. Some Googling revealed that women's sizes are remarkably inconsistent. I was terrified to return it, but when I made a crack about being unable to parse women's clothing sizes, the customer service dude laughed sympathetically.\n\nThey gave me store credit, but it only lasted for 90 days. And today, on the 89th day, I finally used it. My measurements were written out on a piece of paper and, with a couple of shirts and a pair of slacks as camouflage, I took my new dress into the dressing room to try it on.\n\nI don't know if I'll ever be brave enough to wear it in front of someone. But I feel so much more at ease now than I have since I ripped the old one.\n\nThat dress got me through a lot of tough times, but I don't need it anymore.\n\nI just wonder if anyone else will see the new one before it becomes a piece of garbage, too.", "It had stopped ticking at 7:34 in the afternoon.\n\nAt 9:05 am the day before, it had been on the wrist of a young man making his way to work. \n\nAt 11:13, the young man had went to lunch with a few coworkers. A regular day.\n\nAround 2:54, a phone call was answered. \n\n3:17 he pulls up to the hospital and runs inside.\n\nAt 9:43 he holds his newborn daughter in his hands. \n\nAt 10:04 the next morning he shares warm smiles with his wife and they cuddle their new daughter. \n\nAt 1:31 their daughter starts to have trouble breathing. \n\n4:47 He holds his wife while she cries. The doctor tells them they are doing all they can.\n\nAround 6:15 the doctor returns with sadness etched on his face. \n\nAt 7:32 the man is returning home with his wife. They cross over a bridge.\n\nAt 7:34, the watch stops ticking. \n\n\n\n" ]	7
	[WP] Sean is known to be lonely, lifeless and downright boring individual. Make me jealous of this character.	[ "Sean was anti-social. He never liked to interact with anyone. He wasn't the tiny bit jealous of others, who were smug that they're popular. They simply looked like idiots in his opinion.\n\nHe shrugged his shoulders when the teacher asked him to answer a question on the board. He was far too lazy to try hard in answering it. It wasn't like his scores in exams were bad. It was fine to do nothing but sleep if he could keep his grades high.\n\nNo one should blame him for doing so as well. School was such a troublesome thing that Sean never bothered anymore. He went to school. Sleep in class. Go back home. Then, sleep again. It was the same boring routine, really.\n\nHis life was extremely boring and lifeless that he wanted to laugh really but in a way, he much rather liked his life as it was.\n\nMuch better than those dramatic and tearful stories as he liked to say. He was even on front of view in watching a drama in school whenever some popular kid dated some unpopular kid or even those cheating affairs.\n\nHis life was definitely much enjoyable than them plus he could get the popcorn ready if there's some drama in his high school. No one would pay attention to him. Not even when he would go crazy or laugh by himself, no one would notice.\n\nHe was simply invisible to them and he liked it.", "Sean woke up. He climbed out of bed, urinated, washed and headed downstairs; just as he always did. He made a coffee, ate some porridge, all while staring into space - just like always. He showered, got ready - he picked out one of his three identical grey suits, took today's white shirt of the labelled hanger, and tied the black tie around his neck.\n\nHe walked to work, just like always. He walked through the streets, without seeing anyone, without seeing anything. It was not that he was wrapped in his own thoughts, he just always looked ahead, focused on getting to work without distractions.\n\nAt work he sat at the same desk he always had; the edge was scratched from when Bill had hit it with a chair in one of his irresponsible chair races; the edging at the back was still peeling slightly; there was a stain from the printer ink that leaked. It had been this way for years. \n\nSean pulled a file from pile to his left. He opened it, read it, stamped it, closed it. His job was not too tasking; in fact others who had been employed to do similar work had quit and been replaced many times over the years, but Sean appreciated routine. He took a file from the left, read it to make sure there were no mistakes, stamped it and put it on a pile to the right.\n\nAt lunchtime he stopped his work, picked up his lunch, powdered soup, and made his way to the canteen. He spoke to no one. He made the powder into soup and sat at a table alone. He looked at no one, spoke to no one. When the soup was cool enough he drank it. He would then go, get one small bottle of water from which he would take exactly 10 sips before carrying it back to his desk.\n\nThe afternoon followed the same pattern as the morning. Sean would take a file from the pile on the left, read it, stamp it and put it on the right. He took his work seriously, no breaks to talk to anyone, no music, no distractions.\n\nAt five pm he stamped his last file, placed it on the right, stood up, gathering his belongings and left the work place. He walked home, exactly the way he'd walked to work. He spoke to no one. He didn't notice the flowers blooming in the gardens he passed. He didn't see way the sun dappled light over the green bushes at the side of the road. He simply walked home.\n\nOnce there would remove his work clothes and wear today's pair of grey jogging bottoms and today's white t-shirt. He would hang up his suit and tie and place the shirt in the washing basket. \n\nOnce downstairs he would begin his nightly rituals; check the doors and windows, safety always a high priority; then he would clean one room of his house, thoroughly before making dinner. Dinner was, as always, pasta. He would boil up the pasta, add some tinned tomatoes and then eat it. Always the same. He would finish the water he had with his lunch. \n\nAfter cleaning up from dinner he would sit in his living room. He never switched on the TV, he never listened to music. Three nights a week he would read, one night a week he would complete a crossword, this was that night. He picked a crossword puzzle from a giant book of puzzle and completed it. He then went to bed to get his usual ten hours of sleep before repeating the entire day again the following day.\n\nAnd thus was his life or rather this existence. Some would have called it boring. Some pointless. But there was no one left to call him that now. He was alone, the man left in this great city. He could have chosen to do more, but the only thing that kept him sane, day after day, was his routine. And so it continues. " ]	2
	[WP] In a world of great hardship, the concept of childhood is no longer. A single person on Earth is designated "child for life", and is given no responsibilities, as a reminder to everyone else of what childhood was like.	[ "The UN found him in an orphanage outside of Belgrade. It was rare to find ones like him, individuals shielded from the war, famine, plagues, and general misery which came of the 22nd century. Life was hard, too hard. The average life expectancy was 27 years old, most children who were born didn't live past five and those who did usually were always sick. \n\nThen, then there were the daily dangers. If it wasn't the daily worry of roving bands of marauders it was the weather. Every other day powerful storms ravaged the land. Tornados. Hurricanes. Blizzards. Typhoons. There was no distinction in seasons anymore, it was only one long winter. But, then there was the danger that the water was infected with the tide. It was a poisonous algea that exploded once the seas became fully acidified. There had been no life seen in the oceans in twenty-five years, and the tide permeated all bodies of water.\n\nThey called the boy Reginald, Reggie for short. He was named for the UN Secretary generals grandfather, a large rotund and stoic man. Reggie as the world began to call him had the same features. But, he was deemed the \"child for life\", an individual with pure innocence, pure wonder about the world around him, and general love for everyone else. In a world where every day could be your last, he was so vitally needed. He was the only joy the world knew, the only love anyone saw, and the only individual who could smile.\n\nHe was a celebrity. The newswires were always passing the stories of his achievements, his first words, his first steps, the first picture he drew, his smile lit up newspapers and media all over the world. Everyone knew Reggie. Everyone loved Reggie. \n\nThis smiling young man with down's syndrome was the only light in a world shrouded in darkness. ", "He served as a reminder really, a reminder that the old stories of childhood were lies. Being a child seemed horrible. \n\nIt was a smart move by the government. The stories of childhood adventure passed down from our ancestors had turned some of us manic with envious regret; But that all ended when the overlords allowed for a child to exist, to show us the reality of the affliction.\n\n______________________________________________________\n\nI was so miserable. I had no toys, no friends... no anything. I just sat in my room all day, staring out the window. Once a week or so they would bring in camera's and film me to broadcast what I was doing to society for some reason, but they never talked to me. They treated me like I was some sort of extinct animal.", "Alex sighed as she pulled her long hair back into a ponytail. She hated it, but she wasn't allowed to cut it short because short hair was a sign of maturity and she was the last shred of immaturity. But she hated the way that younger adults would stare at her, they were always so blatantly jealous that it made her uncomfortable. \n\nShe was allowed to do whatever she wanted but at the same time she couldn't do anything she really wanted to do. She wanted to wear lipstick and sit in a Cafe with a hot cup of coffee. She wanted to get a job and pay bills like a real grown up. But she was perpetually stuck in this childlike state, hating her tiny hands and short stature. " ]	3
	[WP] Say something educated, but say it in a dumb way.	[ "Jimmy was on the verge of scientific breakthrough. After all of these years, his hard work was going to pay off. EUREKA! Through deep elastic scatter, Jimmy had discovered what made up the proton. Jimmy was elated. \n\nA short while later Jimmy wondered what he would name the particles and the 6 different types. Then he remembered what his great grandfather used to tell him:\n\n\"Jimmy you've got somes quarks and somes flavor about you. Come here let me give you the up down. Yep you'ze has got some strange charm, and to learnz it top to bottom Jimmy youze a gonna have to study. \n\nEdit: Housekeeping", "I grew up in the deep south. There were some really smart, but uneducated people back home. Here are some of the real things I remember hearing growing up. \n\n\"There aint no universities in the Iraqi desert, boy! What good is a degree goin do you if you are shot in the head? Even if you live through it, you will probably come home fucked up like yo cousin Davey. Ask him about the army college program if you can even get him to talk. All he does is clean his rifle, drink, and stare at a fucking tv that aint turned on. And you won't be no damn freedom fighter. The only people you have to worry about taking your freedom live right here in this country.\"\n\n\"These niggers aint going nowhere, so we might as well learn to get along. I let Ms Bertha pick collards from my patch, and she always said thank you. She is one of those sweet ole nigger women. She might hate my guts, but she offers to pay anyway, but I don't accept it. I can't eat all those collards noway. I think she is like me, too damn old and too damn tired to give a shit about the past when we got so much to do here in the now. \" \n\n", "So I was thinking about it the other day, right, and you know my clanmate Jimmy? Yeah right you have history class with him. Anyway, he got promoted last week and suddenly he's turned into a huge asshole. I taught the little shit everything about the game and we had some newbies join and he's all taking credit for my techniques! I called him out on it and he said he was going to ban me if I didn't stop spreading lies. I was going to try to call him on his power trip to the leader but he'd already told him, and so now I'm out of a clan. That power went straight to his stupid head, and he got me kicked out. Power fucking corrupts. You got the cheat sheet for the history test?", "you see sonny jim, that table youse resting yer elbows on...its hard, firm as a rock...but then you look at them there beams of light pouring in all warm and thick like my momma's butter milk batter- they be the same things! I'm tell ya'll. Matter and Enegy ...two sides of the same coin. Ones just vibrating slow then da otha'r \n\nJust like that butter milk was going to eventually become pankcakes ..or a biscuit ...the same things happen all around ar Uni-verse.\n\nMattuh and Enegy ..Mista Einstein proved that, that he did ..with that der formula Eee eckwals M see Sqwart. \n\nNow my Daddy wuznt a smat man but he learned me real good on the lawz of nature. Told me about up and down and how everything is connected due to Space Time cuz light and gravety be connected like a farmer is connected to the soil ..without one or the other you can't get a harvest. \n\nWez learned men...we don't need no gods holding up this or knocking down that ...gravety, light, adams, dem the builden blocks of existence.", "(warning, I suck at this)\n\n\"God,\" I thought to myself, \"This Joey is the biggest douchebag in the world.\"\nI watched him bounce from woman to woman, he'd talk a bit then move on to the next one. Eventually he returned to the bar to order a drink. I decided then to call him out.\n\n\"Dude, do you have any respect for women.\"\n\nHe laughed. \"Hey Brah. There isn't anything wrong with having a good time with a willing lady... or two. As long she and I both know what we're getting into, don't know how that makes me dis-res-pect-ful.\" The way he put emphasis on these words, I couldn't tell whether he was mocking me, or legitimately having trouble saying the word. He continued, \"At least I'm up front about what I want. I let the ladies no what I want, but if they ain't buyin' what I'm sellin' I no when to move on. What you do? Sit at the bar and stare... thinking that just sittin' makes your fantasies better than my reality. Because in my realities, I'm swimmin' in it. And those girls you've got up in your head, they don't even know what they're doing up there.\"\n\nI watched him go back, drinks in hand. I've never had anyone call me out that crudely before...\n\n", " \"...and so, in conclusion, I would like to refer everyone to the closing statement of Professor Stevenson's groundbreaking paper...\"\n\n The orator pushed his glasses up. He quickly glanced around at the auditorium: everyone was listening solemnly. Some were nodding emphatically.\n\n \"...which I, personally, found extremely interesting, and enlightening.\n\n 'In conclusion,' \" - he cleared his throat - \" 'I believe my team and myself, head of the Christian Foundation for Truth and Critical Thinking, have substantially proved not only the impossibilities of Darwin's wild, theoretical claims... but also the undeniable fact, that Man, the Earth and, in fact, the Cosmos... could not but have been spontaneously created no more than 6.000 years prior to this very day'.\n\n \"Thanks for your attendance, everyone.\" The hall was full of cheers and clapping. A smile was drawn across the orator's face. \"Now, are there any questions, or remarks?\" He eyed the audience hopefully.\n\n A hand rose. \"Yes, go ahead.\"\n\n A child got up from his chair. He must have been no more than 14 years old. He wore jeans, but he wore them low, exposing his underwear to the public. He had a loose shirt with obscenities printed on it. His hat was turned half-way the wrong way, and various metallic chains hanged from his neck.\n\n Tongues clicked. Some people crossed themselves. A woman next to him, probably his mother, rolled her eyes.\n\n \"Bitch,\" he said. \"You a monkey.\"", "\"You ain't got no fucking business telling people that. Walking around here like you got a fuckin' gold mine in your mouth,\" the criss-crossed man cleared his throat loudly, sending saliva to the ground, \"But truth is no matter how smart you is, you still don't know how to fuckin talk to people.\" \n\nHe stared out at him with angry eyes, curling his lip, thinking of something to say. \n\n\"You think you're so fucking smart, but you don't know the first thing about shit. Comin here, trying to change something that just can't be changed. Telling us that what we do is wrong, that we're fucked up and screwed up and need changing and shit. But you're fucked up. You got your big words and white teeth, but you don't do no good about helpin people. Your words is all about dirt. You talk dirt. You see us a problem but don't try to help nobody. Well, guess what? You's shit! Calling us worse don't make you no better! Telling us to change don't fix horseshit. You gotta be the one to dig in the dirt if you want to find something worthwhile. So go on, get your hands dirty. Or get the fuck out, cause you sure as hell ain't doin us no good just standin there, talking.\" " ]	7
	[WP] You discover that you have the power to enter an animal's mind. One day you decide to enter the mind of a dog that is about to be put down.	[ "I hear the footsteps coming towards me. I recognize those footsteps. They belong to the one. The only one. She is mine, and I love her. She calls for me, and I know that I must go. She has always shown me kindness. I have known only love for her, and I will follow her anywhere. She takes me to the large green creature. The creature takes us places and makes me feel ill. I do not like it, but I will endure for her. The sound she makes is soothing \"It will be okay Toby, I love you Toby\", I don't understand these sounds, but I can hear kindness and I know I am loved.\nShe calls for me again and I follow her from the Green creature to a unfamiliar place. She attaches me to herself; I won't leave her anyway. There are many others attached to their people, most sitting anxiously. \nInstead of being told to sit I am led away. It is quiet and there is another human, I do not trust him.\nI look up towards her, she looks back and gently strokes my head. I can feel her anxiety. I know that she is sad. I will make the sadness go away. I rub my head against her leg to let her know I love her, I trust her, and I will follow her as long as I live.", "My owner hasn't taken me anywhere in a while.\n\nI wonder where we're going?\n\nI can't see anything. Just the world going past.\n\nIt's hard to stand up.\n\nI can't smell anything new, either. Just the same smell of my owner.\n\nWhere are we going?\n\nThe car is slowing down.\n\nI want to get out, but he's taking soooo long to open the door.\n\nWhen he does I hop out. \n\nThis place smells good.\n\nI can smell some other dogs there.\n\nWhere?\n\nInside the building my owner is leading me towards.\n\nHe smells sad.\n\nWe walk into a room, and a new man picks me up. He smells nice.\n\nCareful. That hurts.\n\nHe makes me lie down on something cold.\n\nMy owner is stroking me. That feels good.\n\nWhat's that?\n\nOw. \n\nSomething bit me.\n\nMy owner keeps stroking me, and I try to look at him.\n\nI'm tired. I'll just close my eyes for a bit.\n\nI'll see my owner when I wake up.\n\nWe'll play later.\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are 16 and have just found out you are pregnant. You are too far along for a termination. You have to tell your parents.	[ "As she set the groceries down on the counter she noticed a note from her daughter.\n\n\"Dear Mom,\" it read. \"I'm sorry. I've been hiding something from you for some time now. I know I've been happy on the outside, but on the inside every day is torment. Please know that none of this is your fault. You are a wonderful mother and I love you very much.\"\n\n\"I've been holding onto this secret for far too long and it's time to let go. Things in my life have just gone from bad to worse. I can't deal with this anymore. Something has happened, something you must never know about. Please don't look for answers. The pain and suffering is just too great. I don't want to live anymore. I'm sorry. I love you.\"\n\nSigned, \"Clarissa\"\n\nShe threw down the letter and ran to her daughter's room. Swinging the door open she saw Clarissa lying on her bed, eyes closed, and an empty bottle of pills spilling from her hand. \"God no!\" she screamed as she ran to the bed. Holding her daughter in her arms she looked down with tears streaming from her eyes and wondered how God could take such a wonderful and beautiful girl from this world.\n\nClarissa opened her eyes, sat up, and with a big bright smile exclaimed, \"Just kidding! ^I'm ^pregnant.\"", "The wind and the snow whipped blond hair into the young girls face as she kneels in front of her parents.\n\n\"Mom... Dad... I'm really sorry.\" She chokes back a sob. \"I know... you had such high expectations of me. And... I let you down.\"\n\nThe only sound is the howling of the wind and the sound of mute shock and disappointment.\n\n\"I can't really believe it either.\" She says, smiling a little and wiping her eyes. \"F-Fred's the father. Fred, my boyfriend since 8th grade.\" The cold stings her face. \"He says he'll stay with me and the baby...\"\n\nThe girl pulls her coat tighter around her and her belly, shivering against the cold.\n\nShe stands up and takes one last look.\n\n\"I just wish you could have known your grandchild.\"\n\nWith that, she turns around and walks away, not looking back as the grave of her parents slowly disappears in the swirling snow.", "\"Mom, dad, I'm sorry to break it to you... but I'm pregnant. I know you're in shock, I was too, but it's got to be true. I've been feeling funny for days now, and I took a test... it came back positive. I know I'm 'young and dumb' but it is what it is. I'm sorry to have disappointment you.\"\n\nI stared at my parents for a long moment after my confession. They looked utterly confused. I thought my mom would say something but it was my dad instead.\n\n\"Are you some sort of moron? Men can't get pregnant! Dumbass\"\n\nI was shocked \"but... but\"... My mom cut me off.\n\n\"If this was some sort of joke David, it's really dumb, even for you.\"\n\nMy parents shook their head an walked away.\n\nMaybe it was that week old burrito I ate?" ]	3
	[WP] You are the President of the United States, and you know you only have a few hours to live. You decide to reveal a great secret to the nation.	[ "The Dictator\nA story by Dorak mod of /r/QUESAD1LLAS\n\n\"Ladies and Gentleman, I am Kim Jong un.\"\nThe words just tumbled out of my mouth, and was followed by a collective gasp by the entire nation.\nI pull out my nuclear ruger pistol and shoot the crowd, this shits military grade. In seconds in everything directly north of me with in a mile radius is hit with a deadly shockwave. The media, gets knocked out, thousands die. A single heli remains in the air, capturing the carnage, as panic throughout all of america ensures. At this time i press the button on the back of my ear, deactivating light bending nano tech. I turn into my true form. Then i hear a cough, followed by debris moving. I turn around to see Jubilo, the only secret service guard alive.\n\"Da.. da fuq homie?\" He mutters out.\n\"Im not your homie. Im kim Jung Un bitch.\"\nI pull out my katana and swiftly decapitate this poor fellow.\nEverything is peaceful, silence, and then sirens.\nAll i hear is sirens. Then around 30 soldiers barrel through the streets in humves, dodging debris and destruction. They all stop and exit pulling out there guns.\nCongress is in session.\nBam, i activate the thrusters in my boots, sending me 80ft in the air.\nI then activate the combustion tech and shoot flames one humvee, causing destruction and death to at least 10 soldiers. Then, i quickly switch to nano frost, shooting blasts of ice 1 billion degrees below kelvin. Death, everywhere.\nOne solider starts shooting rapidly at me with is AR-15.\nCute.\nI simply perform a double jackknife evasive dodge, and shoot out corrosive acids at him, dissolving his skin. The acids spread, hitting the cars and the rest of the soldiers. Soon they are all gone, but i here more approaching in the distance. I dont have time.\n\"Cerebro, this is Kim, i have done what you wanted.\"\n\"Nice job lad.\" The muffled old voice wheezes out.\n\"Good, now do it kill me. End this curse.\"\n\"Im afraid i cant do that.\"\n\"Shit homie, what are you talking about? There coming dammit! Just let me die peacefully!\"\n\"I let you die. But certainly not peacefully. Maybe next time you will learn.\"\n\"Master, wait, master dont go!!\"\nClick.\nTears fall in my eyes. I deactivate the nano suit, and fall to the ground. \n\"Master, please, what did i do wrong!?\"\nThe sound of helicopters come closer and closer, as the heli finally hits the ground. Sergeant rex finally jumps out, with a p22 LMG blaster in his hand.\n\"Well, well, well. Mr pres., or should i say Un.\"\n\"Just kill me. Now dammit!\"\n\"Youre right. Its two o' glock, time to die.\"\nHe pulls the cuban out of his mouth and raises his gun. \nA few million shots, and im dead.\n\"I hope i did well master.\"\nFin.", "\"Mrs. President. It's time to make your farewell speech.\" \nI lifted my head out of my shaking hands to see a sight I was all too familiar with - a well dressed man in sunglasses standing so stiffly it was as if he'd been dipped in molten plastic and left out to cool. Unbreakable and untouchable. My head bodyguard. \n\n\"Roger, really? In a few hours I will plummet into the dark depths of the unknown unconsciousness of the universe, abandoning my nation to elect a new me without any prior notice. I think we've been together long enough to be on a first name basis.\" I said with mock dismay. \n\nHe smiled and his plastic casing seemed to soften a bit. He gestured to the door, which will lead to the podium whereby I will leave my final mark on everyone through the power of my words. And in Roger's small flick of the wrist, in just that one mere gesture - I saw the last cards I had to play in making my life meaningful. For my name to go down in history. \n\nI make my way towards the door, and pry it open with hands seemingly untouched by time, still smooth and youthful. I feel a tear slide down my cheek as the door opens and it's raining outside. I shakily step up to the podium and look up into the sky, the endless oblivion that in a few hours will consume me.\n\n\"My fellow Americans. As you all know by now I will be gone within a matter of hours. And I am here to say farewell, and to share my gratitude with all of you for making my time so worthwhile. I have spent years of my life devoted to my love of the United States, of all of you. I hoped I made a significant difference to your lives, and I promise that if there is an afterlife I will strain against all the forces of the universe to protect what the United States means to me. But, todays speech is not about just saying farewell. There is something you must all know.\" \n\nI set down my queue cards set my hands on the podium to steady myself. Gripping onto the expensive redwood panels I gritted my teeth and pulled my eyes toward the designated crowd area below. A sweeping expanse of grey concrete and backsplash of rainwater filled my vision. Tears pooled at my eyes. \n\n\"You are not real. And I am not the President. And I never will be. I'm just a fucked up teenager living a fucked up daydream.\" \n\nThe rain suddenly became torrential and washed away everything that surrounded me. And suddenly I am back in my hospital room once again, tubes plunged into my veins and a breathing tube shoved up my nose. \nI looked to my left to see my mother and father holding each other and sobbing. \n\n\"You can let go, sweetie. It's okay.\" My mother sobs. \n\nI stretch out my smooth, untouched-by-age hand and she grasps it tightly, and then - I allow myself to slip away. \n\n\n ", "\"My fellow Americans.\"\n\n\nHe paused as if he were searching for the right words.\n\n\n\"I don't have a speech prepared. I don't really know what I'm going to say. My advisors have no idea what I called this press conference for. Tonight, I speak to you not just as your President, but as one of you. I am an American citizen first, and I cannot sit here and lie to you anymore.\n\n\n\"Tonight I will reveal to you the biggest secret the world has never known. It's not about aliens, or a New World Order. No, this secret is far more sinister than any of those.\"\n\n\nThe President took a deep breath as he tried to collect his thoughts.\n\n\n\"The rest of the world is inhabited by savages. This is the truth. Almost 300 years ago, there were enormous nuclear explosions all around the world. Everywhere except for most of North America was destroyed and left barren. Those who survived the blasts were driven mad with radiation sickness.\n\n\n\"Generations of mutations and inbreeding has left the rest of the world incredibly dangerous. Those living out there no longer resemble humans. Nobody other than the leaders of The United States, Canada, and Mexico have ever visited other parts of the world. All international flights just fly around for hours and land in designated staging areas to make everything seem real. None of you have ever left this continent.\n\n\n\"You are fed propaganda every day and are all monitored very carefully. Anyone who gets too close to leaving the safe zones is eliminated.\n\n\n\"I have sent proof to the people I know aren't involved with this cover up. I hope you will all soon be able to see the world for what is really is. You deserve to live free.\"\n\n\nThe President started to cry. He leaned close to the microphone.\n\n\n\"I will not survive the night.\"" ]	3
# Ideas to consider if it is set in the past: + What was the reason for the Inquisition to be hunting Aliens? + What knowledge did they possess or simply sought them out because they were "demons" or "witches"? + How did they even find out about them? # Alternatively in a future setting: + What made the aliens decide not to come back? ...(until now)? + What would happen if SETI or NASA found proof they existed? + Who would even know, or who would want to keep it a secret (the most)? # Side prompt if the above doesn't interest you: + What would the aliens think of us after this? + Would they tell stories of some crazed planet where you were guilty of sin just by landing there? + Planning some sort of invasion to get back at us? Possibly thinking we still had 15 and 16 century tech? + What if we went out into space in the future, and found them instead? Otherwise throw all ideas out and just do whatever. I hope the title prompt is enough to stimulate some ideas. Sorry if I made any glaring faux pas in my post. Edit: I should have expected this, but then again... You people are awesome.	[WP] Unknown to most, Aliens have tried to invade Earth before. The last time they tried, they were defeated, by the Spanish Inquisition. They haven't been back since.	[ "\"'In 1815 the Tribunal turned it's attention to freemasonary. Witches, jews, sodomizers,and heretics had all been crushed under the boot of the Inquisition. The freemasonary movement was a front for the Fallen. Beings composed of light made flesh. All of them heretics. The Fallen claim to be from another world, but admitted under torture to their true nature as fallen angels in service of Lucifer. They encouraged the consumption of the forbidden fruit of knowledge. We that remain of the Tribunal up hold the the pillar of faith for if the masses knew of the Fallen they would surely be tempted. The Tribunal is waging a secret war against the Fallen and the Masonic temple. We watch every corner of the sky for their return. It takes a special kind \nof person to be an Inquisitor you must look upon the tree of knowledge, but not consume. You must use that knowledge to defend the faithful. We are not alone. The Fallen roost between the stars in darkness, waiting.'\n\n\n-President Kennedy Grand Inquisitor private address to Tribunal after announcing plans to reach the moon.\" quoted the lecturer.\n\nA student raises his hand and asks, \"Professor Sung, why if the Tribuanl Wars were made public knowledge in 2027 have the aliens not return to Earth? And if their techonology is so far beyond us why not just destroy the Inquisition?\"\n\n\nSung pause thinking over this question and replied, \"If I were an Inquisitor my answer would be the Fallen cannot deny the freewill of men. As to have they returned. I dare say they are here watching and waiting. Waiting for what I cannot say. However, I plan to be the first to meet them.\"\n\nProfessor of Human and Xeno relations Dr. Sung knew the Tribunal had been driven further into hiding now that Xenos were common knowledge. As the Inquisitiors fear men greedly ate from the Tree of Knowledge. Dr. Sung Grand Inquisitior would be ready to fight the Fallen once again.", "LOG BEGINS\n--\n\n“This is Mission Commander Igor Volsky of the _Découverte_. We are in sensor range of the anomaly. Preliminary scans suggest some manner of artificial satellite. The design is strange. We suspect it may be of extraterrestrial origin. The object appears to be spinning rapidly and unevenly. This explains the fragmented ‘pulsar’ nature of the transmission we intercepted - we only receive when a specific one of the anomaly’s sides faces us. I have given my engineer permission to attempt a grav-lock.”\n\nNEXT ENTRY\n--\n\n“We have established grav-lock and the anomaly is no longer spinning wildly. It is attempting to right itself with what seems to be maneuvering thrusters, though we cannot detect any exhaust. Specialist deVries has suggested that the three radial struts may support some manner of weak but efficient reactionless thrusters; further, one of them appears to be damaged in a manner consistent with a micrometeorite impact. We will continue to study the anomaly.”\n\n NEXT ENTRY\n--\n\n“We have stabilized the anomaly. Specialist deVries studied the forces exerted by the two remaining thrusters and suggested a position of equilibrium. Upon being oriented and stopped, the anomaly has ceased attempts to reorient. Notably, this position places the transmission-projecting face directly away from the Sun. We are relocating the _Découverte_ to intercept the transmission. Further, the anomaly’s design, now that it’s stopped enough to study in detail, appears consistent with object Rho-two, suggesting a common origin. Microparticle weathering is consistent with having been in space for several centuries.”\n\nNEXT ENTRY\n--\n\n“We have positioned ourselves in the path of the transmission. It appears to be a multi-band subspace broadcast. At least several of the bands contain looping messages. One of them resembles that of the beacon of Rho-two. The Rosetta Module is attempting a translation.”\n\nNEXT ENTRY\n--\n\n“The Rosetta Module has suggested the following translation, with 86% certainty: _TORTURE WORLD STAY AWAY_. I am requesting further instructions. Mission Commander Igor Volsky, out.”\n\nLOG ENDS\n--\n\n----\n_-115 \| [more](/r/vonBoomslang)_", "The Diary of Alberto Carnitito de las Cruces \n\n\nJanuary 1518\n\nToday is a special day for Spaniards, for we have made contact with the new world. As I write this from a tent on the shores of the New World, surrounded by thousands of my countrymen handpicked by General Cortez himself, I feel giddy at the prospect of wealth that this land offers. Already we have made contact with the locals.\n\nThey behave most strangely, not like any European. On the one hand, they act like children, not recognizing our steel weapons. One man pricked himself with a blade, not knowing what it was. But some of the gifts they brought to the shore are quite remarkable, mystifying even. I have never seen such tools, and even though they tried to show us how to use them, the men and I were stumped what they could be used for.\n\nMaria, how is the baby? I calculate that he should have been born by now? Or am I too forward in asking God for both a safe journey and a son and heir. It matters not, boy or girl, they will be blessed by having been born to such beautiful woman as you, and such a courageous, and (soon to be) rich father like me.\n\nTu amor, Alberto\n\n\nJanuary 1518\n\nGood news Maria. Our little one will never have to work a day in its life. It will spend a lifetime in leisure. How do I know this? How can I be so self-assured? I tell you, woman, it is not the bounty of gold that we have already packed away into the hulls of our ships, or the plethora of exotic plants and spices that we plan to bring back to the peninsula and grow in our own fields. No, it is the knowledge of these fine people, these “Azteca” as they call themselves. \n\nEver since our first days in the new world, they have shown us amazing sights. Virgin forests, excellent prospects for mining ore, our tour of the lands have been quite fruitful, and the natives eager to treat us as guests. And at the same time I sense a hesitancy among our guides, as though there is some secret fountain of youth that they wish to keep hidden. But what they have shown us is far more valuable than any fountain of youth, for they have machines that can do the work of ten thousand men in an hour. They have devices for finding water and gold, intricate mechanisms that can translate speech for man to man, to animal.\n\n In fact, I had hoped to spend my time here making a study of the native language, but to my dismay the task was accomplished by the natives and some sailors in a few days time! General Cortez has already set up a printing press to distribute a phrase book to all our men. It was suggested that we create a dictionary to give to the natives, so they can learn our language and religion, but he, too, is still somewhat suspicious of their friendliness. What do they have to gain from showing us these fantastic machines? Perhaps it is their nature, and this is how their civilization has advanced so quickly, and without the assistance of God. Did I mention they are atheists, Maria? These heathens are the most remarkable I have ever encountered, but so be it. Their advanced knowledge will be put to use in short order, advancing Spain and Catholicism all over the globe.\n\nMarch 1518\n\nHow is our child? Does he have a name? Or she? Hopefully you have baptized her. I long for the days of our return. Oh, Maria, I wish I had never come on this voyage. Let some other man come here and deal with these strange men. They act friendly and helpful, exhausting us with gifts and scientific knowledge, but they always seem to find a way to avoid allowing us entry into their “temple”. It is one of the few things they have not permitted us to see, and their explanations for this lapse are maddening. Cortez has sent several spies to find out what secrets lie inside, but they have either returned empty-handed or gone missing. \n\tAlberto\n\n\nMarch 1518\n\nYesterday in the fields, during a demonstration of crop-growing techniques, one of the natives let slip something about a high priest that leads their people. Naturally, Cortez requested a formal audience with the man, and was rebuffed. He was quite insulted. The natives assured us that in time we will come to meet him, but that was not good enough. Cortez is embarrassed that that he has been tromping around this great priest-king’s lands without even being invited to break bread. So it has come to this. We are to fight the natives.\nI love you Maria. Raise the child as I would.\n\nYours for all time,\n\nAlberto Alberto Carnitito de las Cruces\n\nMay 1518\n\nHaha! May you hear about this in the sermons! Yesterday we defeated the last of natives in combat. Or so it seemed, until a phalanx of 100 warriors came up over the ridge. Except they were not warriors at all, but some kind of new beast that I have never laid eyes on before. At first I thought they rode upon horses, until a cloud blocked the sun and I could see that it was not a mount but their own bodies. For these are the priest-king(s!) we have heard about, who hid themselves from view. They are like men, but also like birds, and like snakes. Dearest Maria, I know it is blasphemy but when they entered the battlefield and approached us it was like God himself had come down from the heavens to end the suffering of mankind. Had they bid us to put down our blades and we likely would have so, so exhausted, terrified, and awestruck were we. A single one of these beast-men approached the nearest Spaniard and gave him instructions to relay to General Cortez. Then they left the battlefield as quickly as they came, the natives following them and carrying their wounded. After we returned to our fort, the news spread like fire among the men, most of whom did not witness the sight. Tonight Cortez has asked his lieutenants to gather for a discussion on the next step. I anticipate that in no uncertain terms will we accept whatever terms they propose during tomorrow’s meeting in the sacred temple.\n\tAlberto\n\n\nJune 1518\n\nThis will be my final entry in my diary of the New World, for today we set sail back for Spain . Although I am relieved to return home, it is with some regret that I relay to you the circumstances of our departure. As I said earlier, it was a given that we would meet with the beast-men in the city of the natives, and the only question was whether they would allow us to escape with our skulls and gold.\n \nSo myself and several members of Cortez’s highest ranking officers, plus a representative of the church, made pilgrimage to the temple, where we were greeted by legions of natives, who bestowed upon us many gifts and delights, as they had done for many months until the outbreak of hostilities. Although it seemed strange to be friends again before a peace treaty could be signed, we took it as best we could, with equal measure suspicion and gratitude.\n\nEventually, after a substantial amount of merrymaking and viewing a traditional dance recital by some native women, we were led to the highest floor, to a great room where the priestly kings roosted. There were several when we entered, but all but three of the most senior beast-men remained for the parlay. They explained to us that it had always been their intention to have this meeting, and that it was their own poor judgment that had caused the fighting.\n\nThey were sorry they had caused us so much trouble, and explained that it was they who were guests here, not just in the new world, but in the whole world. They would not elaborate beyond that, but just to profusely express their regret for the misunderstanding. Cortez being Cortez, decided to capitalize on the situation and asked them to sign a treaty which would grant him all manner of rights to the conquest of the lands, and to exclusive use of their technologies, for it was also explained to us that the amazing devices and instruments that had aided our survey of the lands were all invention of these beast men, and given to the natives as gifts, much as they had been gifted to us.\n\nAnd so after a short bit of inter-species levity in which one of the beast-men allowed a certain Colonel Sanchez to pluck a few feathers as souvenirs, we commenced with the signing. Or tried to anyway, for that was the precise moment that the Catholic Bishop drew a dagger and ran it through the neck of the highest priest king, screaming “NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!” We were all shocked, but nobody seemed more shocked than the other two beast-men, who clucked loudly and scurried out of the room.\n\nCortez ordered the Bishop placed in chains when we were returned to our fort, but that never happened, because there was no reason to inflict justice on the beast-men’s behalf. As we exited the temple, we were greeted with the sight of a massive armada of ships soaring through the sky, floating on sails of fire. The natives stood around gasping and staring at the ships as they got smaller and smaller. First the natives seemed upset, but gradually they became angrier and started hurling rocks at us, so by the time we reached our horses we were completely winded from running for our lives.\n\nThe weeks following were a dismal affair, as many natives suddenly became ill, having gone for so long with the benefit of the alien medicine. None of the Spaniards contracted the illness, a fact which was attributed to our devotion to the Lord. Due to the sudden collapse of the native society, Cortez thought it prudent to depart before our hosts could regain enough strength to attack our fort. Upon leaving Cortez decided to unload the technological trinkets that had been gifted to us, and replaced that cargo with extra gold we had discarded around on the shore. \n\nSo I conclude, my dearest Maria. I hope you and the child are well, and the priest has not made you say too many Hail Mary’s for your sinning in my absence. But if he has, rest assured they are worth it, for if nothing else, I have witnessed firsthand that God is on our side, and the devil is a giant snake bird that talks like a man and fights like an Englishman. \n\nYours truly, Alberto\n", "\"We can NEVER go back!\" Chancilor Grub-grub Butted the end of his staff in the ground to emphasize his point.\n\n\"But, your highness, Surely these creatures must have grown more intelligent, more advanced.... certainly if we let them continue this path, they will be our species's downfall!\"\n\nGrub-grub looked down from his seat at the youngling. \"You are too young to remember, Senator Glax, but I am not. I was there when we landed on that blue world. And I was there when we watched our fleet be destroyed. That world is no place for our kind. \"\n\nSenator Glax pressed on, determined. \"It was a fluke sir. Our intelligence says that their resistance group ceases to exist anymore! Supposedly it served a different purpose at the time. What ever that purpose was, we may never know, but it has finished. All we do know is that now, they are vulnerable.\"\n\nGrub-grub stroked one of his many chins. \"That is... interesting news Senator. Why was I not informed of this?\"\n\n\"Your magnificence, you had instructed your advisers to never speak of the Blue world again.\"\n\n\"...Ah, yes, you are right. Leave me be, Senator Glax. I have much thinking to do.\"\n\n-----------------------\n\n\"Sir, a strange signal is coming in.\"\n\nJohnson looked up from his morning coffee and newspaper. \"Oh? What is it, Gamma ray, x-ray...?\"\n\n\"It appears to be radio, sir. I am tracking its source now.\"\nA couple of other scientists overheard this, and gathered around to listen in on the new signal. Johnson took another sip out of his SETI coffee mug. \n\"Sir... you aren't going to believe this...\"\n\nA great blast shook the building, knocking a few employees to their knees. Johnson steadied himself, then looked to the gaping hole in the ceiling. Dozens of strange, alien beings flew into the room, quickly killing the employees of SETI. Before Johnson could react, one of these creatures grabbed him and forced him to the ground. A fat, blue creature, with antennae all about his face, slowly descended from the hole. The creature pinning him down shouted something to the fat one in an alien tongue. The fat one nodded. Johnson's aggressor looked down, its antennae glistening in some strange substance. Before it could move, however, a steel saber punctured one of its eyes. The creature screamed and tried to get up, however it was being pinned by the saber. With a deft movement, the attacker finished off the blue alien with a single slice. Its guts spilled out on Johnson, who quickly backed up to the wall. \n\nJohnson looked up at his savior. A white man, dressed in red robes, stood there, smiling down at him. With a thick accent, the red man said, \"You are not hurt, yes? You did not swallow their blood?\" Johnson nodded. \"Very good.\" The red man whistled. With a battle cry, several more red-garbed warriors rode into the room, massive horses beneath them. Johnson watched in amazement as the red men had no trouble dispatching these blue aliens. Their leader, the fat one, started screaming at the sight of them. Johnson's savior lept onto his horse, and quickly ran the fat one down, knocking him to his side. He dismounted, and grabbed the alien by his throat. The other red-garbed men surrounded him. The alien spat out something in its strange tongue. The red-garbed man took a sword to his throat. \"Habla. Speak.\" \n\nThe alien fruitlessly tried to shake him off. \"How?\" Johnson cringed. The alien's voice sounded like shards of glass to his ears. \"Your kind is supposed to have been destroyed!\"\n\nThe red-garbed man merely laughed at him.\n\n\"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.\"" ]	4
	[WP] When lighting strikes, in the brief instance that it lights the sky, we are able to see what is really occupying the "empty space" that surrounds us	[ "In an instant. Light flashed across the sky and I saw it. In one single, split second. A giant tree. Against the pale moon, it was monstrous. I scrambled to the window, eager to see it again. Kaboom! There it was again. It's bark, black as night. One more time, one more time was all I needed to see the whole thing. One more rumble of thunder, and lightning illuminated the sky. Peering to the top, I saw beautiful green leaves, woven through with branches of gold and silver. Large, delicious looking apples hung from its branches. At the bottom, however, the bark was grey as ash, burn streaks desecrating this monument of life. What in the world was this thing of beauty? One clap, this one closer than the last. Really close actually. My world turned white, pain coursed throughout my body. Then, as quickly as it came, I felt relief. I stepped forward, unaware of my surroundings. I heard a crunch beneath my foot. Looking down, I was atop a branch. A gorgeous limb of woven silver. " ]	1
	[WP] You dropped the soap. [NSFW(?)]	[ "I looked at the room around me. The green tiles ended six or so inches above my head, this division made way for the floral wall paper that was probably out of style when it was installed. To my left there was a brown towel and pot pourri sitting just on top of the back of the toilet. The toilet paper roll was half empty. No of this mattered. What mattered was the foul, awful, no good, rotten taste on my tongue. \n\nI don’t know what they told people, but it tastes like shit. Shit. The exact same thing that got me in here. How could one word cause so much punishment? Five minutes? This was ridiculous. This was cruel. This was unusual. This was lavender-scented torture. \n\nI looked to my right, and there my mother was, standing there. Her green eyes affixed on the small golden watch around her wrist. (I would later – in my teen years – pawn this watch off for marijuana; she would never discover where it went.) She noticed me looking at her. \n\n“Just one more minute,” she said, in a faux-reassuring, but still angered tone. She was upset I used the word “shit” – a word I’d heard her use on many an occasion. What gave her the right to tell me I couldn’t use words I knew? Isn’t that the freedom of speech thing they’ve been talking about in school?\n\nI guess not, child cruelty seemed protected from these rights. I could taste it. The chalky, pale, foaming sensation – I’d tried pleading against it before. Not today, today, I was silent. \n\nTime ran down in what seemed like hours, no matter how long she had me do it. The last minute was always the worst. But at the end of this particular punishment, I felt triumph. \n\nI pulled the bar of soap from my mouth and held it firmly in my left hand. I had dealt with the punishment for a perfectly placed word. An argument won because the losers were upset about it. But at this moment, the soap shot from my hand. With the weightlessness of a rock, it fell directly into the toilet. \n\n“Shit!” The word escaped my mouth without any chance at censorship. I had dropped the soap. I looked to my mother, her green eyes relit with new-found ferocity. She pulled a small cardboard box from the counter just outside the bathroom. Ivory lavender-scented, anti-bacterial bar soap. Five more minutes.\n", "As the soap slipped from my hand, I knew I was in for some serious pain. This isn't the first time and it certainly wasn't the last. I cursed my butterfingers, damning them for being so nubby and useless. \n\nThe soap seemed to fall in slow motion as I contemplated the series of life decisions that have led up to this point. All of the people I've hurt, all the bad things I've done. I deserve this, I thought, as that soap fell towards the earth like the swinging of a gavel. \n\nI tried to catch it, sweeping my arms in fruitless gestures to recapture the fallen soap. It was not meant to be. I was in for some serious hurtin' today. \n\nThe over-sized bottle of Fancy-Follicle Shampoo impacted my bony foot. I cried out in extreme agony as my muscles and sinews were stretched to their limits. It was a familiar pain, but pain all the same. \n\nAs I rubbed my foot, I peered through the crystalline doors of my shower and thought, I should start buying smaller bottles of soap.\n\n", "We were young, she was restless, and by the time we were through bars led to bars: stone cold drunk to stone cold cell.\n\nHer hands fluttered like dying birds, fragile and beautiful, and when my own hands caged them I could feel their cold soft heartbeat. Restless. She was young and beautiful, sharpened at the edges, with a spine of cold steel. Leaning over, she whispered into my ear, her breath tickling the nape of my neck. Already I sensed her restless heart. Already I was caught, as if in a spider’s steel web. \n\nHer hair smelled of lavender and cigarette smoke.\n\nWhen later we left, the streets welcomed us like long lost lovers. She seemed to dance in the open air, chill breath escaping with each sudden grin, a premonition for her laughter, a beacon for my joy. Her name was Margaret, and her hair was a halo before the streetlamps, her lips blue, her eyes dancing with the falling snow, her heart restless; and me restless alongside. She felt like a force of nature, like a hurricane. I would have watched in awe that whole night had she not taken my hand in hers – fluttering, always fluttering – and stolen me away. I did not care for our destination, just our moments, and the snow fell as if just for us two.\n\nImpossibly, we ended that night under harsh fluorescent lights. A gas station, or a convenient store, I could not remember for the glare. She exited with a fistful of chocolates stuffed down her shirt, disappearing into the night while the attendant held my arm in his steely grip, while the police arrived, while I paid for the DVD in time, in a cell. It had slipped you see, just like her, out of my grip. The Young and the Restless. The soap opera fell to the floor.\n\nI had dropped it. ", "(Zero effort story, sorry guys - just haven't written in ages!) \n\n\n------\n\n\nMy mother had always been one of those types to give the sorts of presents she wanted. Unfortunately for me, that meant lots of pretty home wares that I had no interest in. Forcing a smile had become a normal response to unwrapping her pink, frilly presents when I went around to visit her for my birthday. She always beamed at me, obviously happier than I was. \n\n\nShe had never really noticed when I stopped being her little girl who played with dollhouses. I remember her peculiar method of gift-giving had irritated me until I simply accepted that my mother was not a very observant person.\n\n\n“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” she had breathed as I opened a gift only a few months ago, on my most recent birthday. I had murmured something, trying to mirror her tone. The present was a fancy arrangement of soaps – something I had never understood. I don’t really think they were meant to be used, so why on earth would anyone want such a thing? The present just made me feel exasperated.\n\n\nWhen I got home from that visit, I’d placed the soaps on the corner of the bathroom sink not taken up by toothbrushes and hand-soap – actual soap for daily use, that is. I’d thought nothing more of it until my mother had a fatal heart attack – her second – shortly after my birthday. She passed away, leaving me and my two children otherwise bereft of family. \n\n\nWalking into the bathroom had become something of a trial, now, but I couldn’t bear to remove them. This weekend just gone, I had ordered my oldest son to scrub out the bathroom with a bucket of bleach and water, trying to ignore the twinge of guilt that I felt for passing the task on so I could avoid the room. It’s not as if there weren’t other reminders of my mother in the house, but still…\n\n\nI had been sitting at the kitchen table finishing a coffee when I heard a splash and a gasp from the bathroom. I looked around, frowning, as my son came out, a guilty expression on his face. He was holding the dripping ruins of the pretty soap arrangement over the bucket of bleach. My heart pounded in sudden fury.\n\n\n“You dropped the soap?!”", "Day seventeen of my incarceration. Yippie. How could I have known that the storekeeper had such amazing martial arts skills? If anything, he should be rotting in prison, not me. He busted me up waaaay too much.Yet here I am, showering with ten other fully grown men. My lucky day. My lucky three plus years. \n\nAfter rinsing my hair, I grabbed the old and cracked soap bar. It smelt like despair and hopelessness. Perfect for prison right? I tried to move quickly. Some of the guys in here were a lot bigger than me, and I'm a pretty handsome guy. How else could I have been juggling three girlfriends before I was busted? \n\nAs I was trying to reach between my shoulder blades with the soap, I dropped the bar. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck shit. Are the rumors true? Do they really go for you when you bend down? It's just to scare you right? To keep you out of prison? \n\nI looked around. None of the guys seemed interested, but you never know. Slowly, I squatted down, protecting my precious bottom. I sat down and grabbed the soap. A moment later, a shadow was over me. Oh no. Shit shit shit shit shit shittily fuckin' shit. \n\nI looked up. A giant stood before me. At least 6'4\", a muscled, black, tatooed monster. \n\n\"Why the hell are you sitting at the ground for?!\" he asked incredulously.\n\nI couldn't help it. I started to tremble more than Michael J. Fox. \n\nHe looked at my pathetic sitting ass, then at the bar of soap in my hand. He laughed. \n\n\"Bitch, no one is going to rape your ugly ass. Get off the ground, fool. Before you get your ass kicked.\" \n\nHe lifted me up and set me on my feet. Damn, he was strong. \n\n\"Act like a man, or you're really going to be someone's bitch. But maybe that's what you want.\"\n\nThe giant walked away. I cried like the sissy girl I was. No way was I going to get out of here ass untouched. \n", "\"You dropped the soap? What do you mean you dropped the soap?\" \n\nShe floated in the lake water as she asked the question, her perfectly level head at odds with the long white legs and arms treading beneath surface of the water. I shrugged sheepishly from the over-inflated toy. \n\n\"It just shot out of my hands! I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting it to be so slippery!\"\n\n\"Well of course it's slippery! It's a bar of soap! What were you expecting?\"\n\n\"Alright, alright, I get it.\" I said, my cheeks heating up. \"So now what?\"\n\nShe shrugged, the water making an odd ripple as her legs and arms continued to churn. \"We get another bar of soap, I guess. The lake is 25 feet deep, it's long gone.\"\n\n\"All the way up the hill?\"\n\n\"Well, you dropped it,\" she said, sticking out her tongue. \"Only fair.\"\n\n\"I have a better idea.\" I pushed myself up onto the floatable and out of the cold lake waters.\n\n\"Oh?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" I lay back just as the sun poked out from behind the clouds, beaming down rays of warmth to chase away the chill. \"Let's just swim. You can take a shower later.\"\n\nA sharp splash in the water and a spray of cold water droplets answered my question. Oh well, can't win them all.", "“Whoops!” I said out loud as the soap slipped out of my hands.\n\nI instinctively moved my foot to keep it from sliding away, but I ended up kicking it to the side. It bounced off the sides of the bathtub and slipped between my legs. I turned around to find it slowing down behind me.\n\nWhen I bent down to get it, I ended up just barely grazing it with my fingertips, and it began to move again—this time towards the drain.\n\nI obviously knew that a bar of soap couldn’t fit down the bathtub drain, but I was always a little paranoid about letting soap get near the drain. So when the soap reached the drain this time, I felt like I had lost a battle of sorts.\n\nI sighed, and reached down to try and pick up the soap after it came to a stop on top of the drain.\n\nAnd that’s when it happened.\n\nBefore my eyes, the drain suddenly expanded, as if it were a mouth opening wide.\n\nThe soap fell in.\n\nWithout thinking, I plunged my arm into the drain. Somehow, I caught the soap as it was falling, but by now my entire arm was inside, with the drain at my shoulders.\n\nAnd before I could get a moment to register what had happened, the drain grew again, swallowing me whole.", "I dropped the soap. It was a fitting end to a horrible day. First the cops pull me over, then I have to deal with that crazy judge.\n\nThen I had to deal with my crying mother.\n\nAfter all of which, I end up here - the last place I want to be - on the first day of my vacation.\n\nAnd I drop the soap.\n\n\"Shit,\" I say.\n\nEveryone turns to look at me. Hoping, praying that no one says anything, I bend to pick it up.\n\nA couple of guys nearby snicker at me. I know what they're thinking.\n\nI pick up the soap and stand. I toss it back in the cart.\n\nI fucking hate Walmart.", "A single tear trickles down my cheek and I bite my lip at the pain. I try not to rub my eyes, or clear the tears. It will only make things worse for me. Why did this have to happen now, of all times? And with such an audience. \n\n“Are you ready?” he asks and proceeds to lean down from behind me. “I’m going to put it in.”\n\nI nod, willing my hands to be still against the urge to leave. It will be over quickly, I hope. A shrill gasp fills the air as it goes in.\n\n“Wow!” said my five year old in amazement, his eyes wide in astonishment.\n\n“See, I told you this was cool,” My husband says, adding one more drop of soap to the bowl of milk and food coloring.\n\n“It is! But Mommy, why are you crying?” my boy asks. I smile and get up from the table.\n\n“I’m alright love, I'll be right back.”\n\nThe soap in my eye is killing me.\n", "\"That's it, Jon Boy. Once we have the soap we'll be outta here, simple as that.\" Western said. I swallowed hard.\n\n\"You uh, want me to get it?\" I offered. Western stared me mighty long and nodded. \n\n\"You know where ta get it, I trust you that. Run along now, Boy. And make it fast, these settlers' ll be back faster than we know it's pouring sun out here.\" I whistled by the log house hurriedly. I kept myself thinkin' over and over of the soap. I couldn't forget it. When I got to town and bought the soap, I didn't even care to hide myself and sprinted back with the soap bubblin' in my pocket. \n\nI hadn't noticed the sun rising when I got back and Western looked mighty red. \n\n\"The soap Boy!\" He snapped. \"Hand me the soap! Don't you see the sun risin' and the sound of the settlers a-comin'?\" I fished the soap from my pocket and went to hand it to the old strut. Western reeled back like I was handin' him a bloody foot. \"Are you crazy Boy?\" He whispered, almost a whimper. \"Liquid soap, I needed liquid soap!\" And he stomped his foot and pulled at his hair whoopin' and yelling at the sky.\n\nI stared at my hand, shakin' scared so hard, I dropped the soap. Sounds of hooves pounding the ground came not too far from camp and I shivered. I knew now we'd a neva leave, for the old man's time whiskerin' machine ran on fluids. It was all my fault.", "I dropped it. It popped right out of my gripping hand - which gave me an idea.\n\nPicking up the slick mass of soap more carefully, I eyed the mirror. \n\nTarget acquired. I squeezed hard on the end of the soap and shot it directly at my reflection.\n\nThe soap smacked into the mirror and ricochet to the floor. The action made me smile, just a little bit.\n\nI rubbed the smudge of cleaner off the mirror and put the soap back onto its decorative tray. I had to get ready for work already, today was an important day for meetings after all.\n", "It wasn't that bad. It really wasn't that bad. Was it?\n\nJason tried to do the math in his head. Okay, so it's that much volume -or should I do it by weight? - and then the FDA standards are how many parts per million...\n\n\"Okay,\" he mumbled. \"Okay, that's really not that bad. This isn't a disaster. Nobody's going to die.\"\n\nHe nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt the violent slap on his back, followed by a large hand gripping his belt.\n\n\"Oops! Almost knocked ya in!\" Walt chuckled. Jason felt his face flush with embarrassment. How much had he heard?\n\n\"Yeah, good one Walt,\" he muttered, straightening his shirt and stepping back from the rim. Walt let go of his belt.\n\n\"Huh. You finally get the stick out of your ass, J-T? Usually you just can't a joke. Not that I mind! You gotta have a sense of humor, right?\"\n\n\"Yeah, totally,\" Jason replied. He still didn't turn around. He didn't want Walt - Walt, of all people - to see him all beet-red. Even if he didn't actually suspect anything, he'd rib him half to death. Something would slip out. Jason wasn't a good liar. He wasn't good at keeping secrets.\n\nWalt stepped sideways and then leaned over the rim on Jason's left. His nose wrinkled up at the churning, swirling sight.\n\n\"Jesus, I just never get used to this, man. Haven't eaten breakfast cereal in five years. Five years. But oh well, it's a living. Almost time to toss in the pucks!\"\n\nJason backed away further, hoping to stay out of Walt's peripheral vision. He could still feel his face burning up.\n\n\"Uh yeah. Actually, my shift's over in a few, so uh... you have fun with that. Go for the hat trick?\"\n\nWalt looked over at him and smirked \"Yeah, sure. Good one... hey man, you look like shit. No offense. You're sweaty as balls though, dude. You gonna grab a shower before punch out?\"\n\nJason froze. His eyes widened, then darted back and forth. \"Uh.... yeah. Yeah of course. Just like I always do. 'Cause it's free, right? I gotta go.\" All at once his muscles unfroze and he bolted towards the ladder.\n\nWalt chuckled and watched him scurry away. \"Christ, what a cheapskate.\" he said quietly. Pushing back from the railing, he cupped both hands to his mouth and shouted after his colleague.\n\n\"Hey J-T! Don't drop the soap.\"\n\nHe laughed to himself, leaning back over the railing, watching the grainy sludge swirl around in the vat. He was a funny guy. People liked him.", "The man with the machete glared at me, his hair disheveled, teeth bared, eyes wide open and full of crazy. His shirt was brown with mud, and his body was caked with dirt. \"Give it to me,\" he muttered, quickly, as if he couldn't spit the words out fast enough. \"C'mon, gimme it. Give it to me give it to me give it to me.\"\n\nI suppose it was somewhat my fault for walking around this neighborhood. I mean, even the rats had learned to avoid this place -- better to test their luck in the sewers than among the skelteons of skyscrapers inhabited by those who'd long ago lost any scrap of their humanity.\n\n\"Calm down,\" I said, raising my arms slowly. I clutched the bar of soap in my hand as if it were a bar of gold. \"Calm down and nobody has to get hurt.\"\n\n\"No, sir, no they don't, but you gotta give it to me,\" he said, his hand shaking. His eyes darted back and forth like a snake's tongue. \"Or I'll cut you up into little tiny pieces, yessir, little tiny pieces, just like that, just like that.\" He swung the machete through the air in several deadly motions, his ripped shirt rustling on his bony frame. \"Cut you up real good.\"\n\n\"Nobody has to get hurt,\" I repeated. I scanned my surroundings. An abandoned high-rise about a half-mile off to the right; a used car dealership, the vehicles rusting and the tires slashed, to the left; a few tin cans and some tattered grocery bags littered on the parched dirt, and a very angry, not quite sane man with a machete in front of me. Nowhere to go but backwards. \"Nobody has to get hurt,\" I said again, taking a step backwards.\"\n\n\"Don't you fucking move!\" The man brandished the machete. \"I just want your soap, man.\" He feinted with the machete again, making me leap back. \"I. Just. Want. Your. God. Damn. Soap. I haven't been clean in years.\" He motioned to the dirt caking his bare feet. \"Just give it to me and I won't have to cut you up, no sir, won't have to cut you all up into tiny pieces for the rats to eat.\" He was getting increasingly agitated. All the classics signs -- raised shoulders, nostrils flared, shuffling back and forth, his body coiling like a spring into fight position.\n\n\"There are no rats here,\" I spat. \"You fucking idiot.\" That did it.\n\n\"GIMME THE FUCKING SOAP!\" the man yelled. He rushed at me, machete held out from him like an extension of his arm. I stepped to the side easily and grabbed the man's other arm as he passed, absorbing his momentum. I twisted until I heard something crack.\n\nThe man collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain. I bent down and picked up the machete, then held it to his throat so that I could see his fear reflected in the steel. \"I told you I didn't want anybody to get fucking hurt.\" He only responded with a pathetic moan. \"But you, unfortunately, are a terrible listener.\" I sighed. \"You just don't. Fucking! LISTEN!\" I emphasized each word with a kick to his ribs.\n\n\"Do you know how I got this bar of soap?\" The man shook his head, drool and blood dribbling from his quivering lips. \"I asked you a question. That means you need to answer it. Using your words. Now, do you know how I got this bar of soap?\"\n\n\"N-n-no,\" the man spluttered.\n\nI crouched down next to the man, still holding the machete in place, so that I was close enough that he could hear my every breath. \"I killed a man. It's an interesting story, actually. I bet you'll like it. You like stories, don't you? You look like you would. Anyway, I had a can of beans that I had found. Nothing too special. Just some kidney beans. But boy, it sure seems that people here love their kidney beans. Because one of you stupid little fuckers...\" I slammed my fist down on his broken arm on the word stupid, and he let out a delicious wail of agony. \"I'm sorry, where was I? Yes, one of you stupid little fuckers decided that it was worth killing someone over something as silly as a can of beans.\" I paused. \"Or, in your case, a bar of soap.\"\n\nI held up the bar of soap. I could see in his eyes how much he still wanted it, even now. The longing. The desperation. \"I killed that man, and I took his bar of soap. It was either him or me. And do you know what? I didn't even keep my beans, that's the funny part! I mean, I didn't really have any use for them. There was plenty of food available there. I just left the beans and took his soap, because I knew it'd be better bait.\"\n\nI finally dropped the soap, right next to the man, just out of reach of his crumpled and twisted arm. \"Go on,\" I said. \"You can have the soap. He struggled for it, but yelped in pain when he attempted to move his arm. He tried again in vain before giving up with a gasp of anguish. \"Aww. What a shame. A real pity.\" I stood up. \"You really think this is worth anything? That it means something?\" He gasped for air through broken teeth. I stomped my foot down on the bar of soap, smashing it to smithereens. I smiled as I watch the hope drain from his eyes. Now they only held fear, fear of a monster far worse than the ones that lived inside his head. True fear. I could smell it on him, a delicious bouquet.\n\n\"Well,\" I said, \"storytime's over. Do you how I always feel after I tell a story?\"\n\n\"Noooooo,\" the man wailed. Tears streamed down his face, a portrait of terror.\n\n\"Hungry.\" With a sudden, violent motion, I crouched down and brought the machete down upon the man's good arm and began sawing away. He writhed and wailed as the machete sliced through his flesh and stuck bone. \"Oh, don't struggle so much,\" I said. \"You make the meat less tender.\"\n\nWith a satisfying crunch, the man's arm disconnected from his body. There wasn't much meat on it, but it would do. \"Thanks for the meal.\" The man just stared, shocked, his gaze wavering between his severed arm, and the blood gushing from his shredded shoulder. The sinews were hanging out of it, loose wires in a broken machine. I took a bite out of his arm. Ugh. It really was dirty. But it was fresh meat. It was sustenance. It was power.\n\n\"You want some?\" I waved his arm at him and took another bite. \"It's good, really,\" I promised through a mouthful of his stringy flesh. \"You oughta try it!\" The man just stared, his eyes wide, his mouth frozen in utter disgust. \"No? Alright. Well, anyway,\" I said cheerily, \"I oughta go. Can't take up too much of your time, am I right?\"\n\nHe didn't even have the courtesy to nod. Pity. \"Well, thanks for sharing some food with me.\" I stood. \"I have always relied on the kindness of strangers.\"\n\nWith that, I plunged the knife into his chest. I twisted it until crimson flowed from his mouth like a fountain. Then I pulled it out, carved off the other usable portions, and the rest of him there on the ground. Maybe the vultures would appreciate it. After all, there weren't any rats here to share in my feast.\n\nBut you know what's the funniest thing about it? I just feel somewhat unsatisfied. It may have been fresh meat, but I've certainly had better. Cleaner, juicier. The rich fatasses always make the best meals.\n\nYou wouldn't happen to have any meat on you, would you? I don't know, you look you're a decent size. I only ask because I'm still hungry. In fact, I'm starving.", "I stood there with the water raining down upon my head, staring at the small sliver of soap between my feet. \n\nSo close, yet so far. \n\nMy mind began to wander and I started thinking those oddball thoughts I sometimes get while taking a shower. It's marginally better than singing in the shower, but serves no useful purpose.\n\nThe soap was still at my feet. I realized that if I didn't do something about it that I would never complete my bathing ritual. I summoned up whatever reserves of motivation I had remaining to me and bent down to retrieve the wayward soap.\n\nThat's when I heard a pop. My back had gone out and I was stuck in that position. Home alone. No help, unless you want to count my cat. \n\nGod I hate dropping the soap." ]	14
Land, animals, trinkets, or anything else.	[WP] Write me a letter convincing me to buy something magical.	[ "Dear dangerwolf1, \n \nThank you for purchasing a 1 year subscription to \"Cats, Cats, CATS!\" magazine. Your tastes are obviously as impeccable as your hunger for excitement. Because of this, we here at \"Cats, Cats, CATS!\" would like to extend to you a special offer deemed worthy for only our most unique customers. As long as you assure us that this offer doesn't get leaked anywhere else, it will remain a special offer! \n \nGood; now that we've gotten the fine print down, hold on to your fur, because have we got a deal for you! Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to be a wild animal, tracking your prey while sniffing the crisp, morning air for fresh blood? Did you ever feel like your speed just wasn't enough when playing a game with your faster, better looking friends? Would you say that you usually feel like...you just don't fit in with those around you, but don't care enough to try? \n \nWell throw those inabilities away and sit down, because this offer has been specialized just for you! A pristine treasure, straight from our treasury; the Bracelet of Beowolf. When the owner puts on this rare, one-of-a-kind item of exquisite extravagance, they are transformed into a monstrous dire wolf, as ferocious as it is beautiful, and given extraordinary abilities one could never fathom. If you've ever wanted to taste the sweet taste of warm, fresh meat in your mouth, and not get sick, passing up this opportunity would be the biggest mistake you could make! \n \nNow I bet you're thinking 'Wow, my name was taken completely out of personal context and this insulting letter is ridiculously fake, what a waste of time..' Well, we here at \"Cats, Cats, CATS!\" respect that opinion, but have to tell you that you're entirely mistaken! Of course, there's no way to convince you of that, right? WRONG! Just check the box in the lower left corner, sign your name, and send this letter back to the mailing address already provided and we'll provide you with the bracelet for 30 days; free! If you don't like it after those 30 days, send it back; again, at no charge! If you do find that, somehow, you enjoy such a trinket that actually worked, keep it, and the payments will begin. There is absolutely no risk, and only a magical world awaiting. The choice is yours; and we'll be waiting. We look forward to hearing from you, and appreciate your business! \n \nSincerely, \nKatherine Shadow \nV.P. Customer Relations", "Amulet of Osiris, tooth decay obsolete, health gaurentee'd plus all the love you'll ever need; Organic mood ring filtering through insubordinates, hornets to swarm their coordinates and dwarf the reinforcements. Of course these dark horses come at a price, life in the fast lane isn't low-pay but's'oh-kay cuz buzz vouches front beyond the infinite, no gimmick get with it there is the land of third servings. Disturbing some say as sunny days break grey haze but I don't make the play's I call them, I don't make money i'm ball'n, so please fall in line your time is temporal your soul is immortal, so welcome to the future what would you like to order?\n\nAcquisitions wroth with vengeance, henchmen beg for ascension but the lesson cracks the tension; Don't be offend'n what you thought was real just because you like pretend'n that you could deal. Skip back scallywag and order up a round, I sing through facades of smiles at the price of a frown. This is the deep end, offensive with no lenses, lets hold hands and play the game of second guesses. \n\nWell isn't this a pleasant surprise, the hero lives but the coward dies. Try all you want it don't matter too much, life is a maze and realities a clutch. Double dutch hopscotch with Rorschach masks glued to my face, lets stare at eachother and see if the blots look like outer space. Headcase for certain, curtains always closing, encore demanded yet no hand for holdin. Rolling on the floor, laughing off thy ass, puff puff pass, weather and the price of gas conversational topics tropics forming from polar bear domains." ]	2
To clarify...(but feel free to take this however you want)....everyday, you go to sleep in your bed on Earth, and then wake up in a different world (different from our Earth but the same strange world every 'night'), where you spend the day. At the end of each day on strange-world, you go to bed, and awaken in the 'real-world'.	[WP] When you go to bed every night, you wake up in a different world. You spend the day there, and when you go to sleep there, you wake up in the morning here.	[ "I want to break up. Wait, what? Yes, I want to break up.\n\nHow could she? How could I? I turned to look at Brett. A small puddle of drool had accumulated on his pillow and his mouth was agape. Still sleeping. My feelings (his feelings?) were fading rapidly. He loves me, everything about me. My soft skin, my soothing voice, the way I smile when I’m nervous. I know because I feel it and I remember.\n\nHe will remember too, being me. He will remember my constant disappointment and the mask I wear to cover it. He will remember my inner struggle to awaken again the love I once had, questioning whether it had ever been mine to begin with.\n\nAwareness was beginning to fade when he opened his eyes. His eyes were deep with sorrow and I stared intently, looking for meaning. Was I looking into my own eyes? Was this my own pain at the thought of hurting him? Or was this his own pain at the thought of losing me? \n\nI'm fading. It's fading. His eyes switch and I wonder why he was staring at me. He looks confused. \"Hey?,\" I said. \"You alright?\"\n\n\"I think so,\" he replies, pulling me in tighter than normal. \"I think I just had a bad dream or something.\"", "Hey guys, this is my first serious post, so tell me what you think.\n\n...\n\nSamson opened his eyes. No alarm was blaring, no birds were chirping, no breeze blew through his open window. Pale grey light filtered through the blinds. A cold sort of glow that made him wish he was still asleep. His dreams were the only time he was happy anymore.\n\nUnable to return to the place from which he had come, Samson sluggishly pushed off the covers. The cramp room seemed to contract around him. He felt sick. He might have thrown up had he anything in his stomach. Hunger had plagued him for the past few days, but he tried not to let it bother him. He only had to make it through another day or two. Just few more hours and he would never visit this place again.\n\nHe sat. He sat and waited. For what, he had no idea, but eventually it came. a heavy pounding on Samson's door jolted him out of his trance. He roused himself and rose, shuffling over to the source of the sound. He didn't bother to say he was coming. He knew who was at the door and didn't expect them to leave anytime soon. \n\nThe door needed oil. It squeaked as if a mouse was caught in the hinges as he opened it. Samson felt he was that mouse, but he did not have long to mull over this daydream. His landlord starred him straight in the eyes, fuming as always.\n\n\"Samson! I am through with this bullshit!\" he roared. \"You pay me now or you get out. My hospitality has its limit.\" Samson lowered his eyes. It was not because of shame, but he silently stared at the floor all the same. He made no reply.\n\n\"I'm done Samson. I will not be taken advantage of any longer.\" He paused. \"I’m sorry it has to be this way. I just...\"\n\nHis landlord trailed off. He was a kind man; Samson was already months behind on his payments. Had the man enforced his eviction notice, Samson would have been sleeping on the streets for about a week. \n\n\"Just get your things and leave.\" His landlord continued. \"Don't make it harder than it already is.\"\n\nThe door screeched shut. Samson stood there, numb. What did he have? Not much. A few talismans from his past, from before he started dreaming. A dirty change of clothes. An outdated cell phone. Samson gathered it all. He slid everything into a pillowcase, save his wallet and his phone. \n\nHe had three dollars in his wallet. He had an expired drivers license, a rewards card with no points left, and an unused condom that was probably about as old as his license. His phone was several years old, bur still functional. A long term plan from ages ago kept it callable, not that anyone ever called. \n\nSamson walked out of his dingy apartment, leaving his keys neatly on the table. He walked lazily out onto the street and made his way towards the park. New York was cold this time of year. He longed for the warmth of his dreams. He would be there soon enough, he thought. Just then his phone began to ring. Startled, he looked and recognized his sister's number on the screen. he let it ring. He couldn't stand to face her now. It was too late for that.\n\nCentral park was oddly quiet on that day. Something hung in the air that seemed to put a trance on everything in the city. Perhaps it was his imagination, but everyone he met eyes with seemed empty, just like him. He kept walking. Before he knew it he was at a dock somewhere. Its time, he thought, sighing. \n\nSamson dropped his belongings. He sat down on the wooden planks, letting his feet dangle above the icy water below. He took his wallet and phone out of his pocket. They were a silent scream of significance, proof that he was here. That was all he wanted from this world. The desire to make a mark left him long ago. He knew he was slipping, so finally he let himself slip.\n\nThe water rushed up to meet him. The cold was bitter, but he let it swallow him. Not wanting to prolong anything, Samson inhaled what he could not breathe. His lungs burned. He thought of where he was going. He was alright with leaving earth. It had never been to kind to him. He just wanted to be somewhere warm. The pain was excruciating. Samson's eyes closed.\n\n...\n\nSamson opened his eyes. He looked around at what had become his world. A spacious room greeted him, but unlike every other time, it was dark. Samson walked out onto the balcony. The soft sound of waves crashing was accompanied by a cool breeze. The moon was brighter than he had ever seen, bisecting the ocean in front of him with a sliver of silver. He had never been at night. Perhaps it had actually worked. Samson rested his elbows on the railing and gazed out at the horizon. \n\nIt was then that he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to meet a beautiful woman. She was slender and fair, with silvery blond hair flowing from her head. A thin white dress hung from her shoulders, its edges blowing softly in the breeze. He had seen her several times before in this world, but it was always from afar. Now, here she was, somberly smiling at him.\n\n\"I'm finally awake,\" he whispered, to himself more than anyone. He glanced up and met her eyes. They seemed so sad. \n\n\"I'm afraid not,\" she replied.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Samson continued, puzzled. \"I was sinking. I was dying. I was ready to sleep.\"\n\n\"Sleep and death are two different things, I'm afraid. Right now you are holding on. By a thread, albeit, but holding on.\"\n\n\"I don't want to hold on. I want to stay here.\" Samson protested.\n\n\"You could never stay here,\" she responded. \"You are needed where you come from. The only reason you are here is because you needed something to hold on to, to keep you going until you realize your potential.\"\n\n\"What potential? I can’t-\"\n\n\"You have to trust Me.\" she paused. \"I'm afraid this is goodbye.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" The wind began to pick up speed. The sound of the waves grew louder.\n\n\"You cannot live in two worlds, Samson. If you are going to die, do so at home.\" The sea grew more restless. Samson turned to see it rising, slowly submerging the beach and the streets below. When Samson turned back, the woman was gone. At that moment, the balcony lurched. Samson was thrown into the rising sea below. As he sank beneath the waves he began to drown all over again, but this time he tried to hold on. He beat and pushed and clawed the water, trying to reach the surface, but it was too late. Samson let the water invade him again as he closed his eyes once more.\n\n...\n\nSamson opened his eyes. No alarm was blaring, no birds were chirping, no breeze blew through his open window. Soft yellow light filtered through the blinds. He was in a hospital. A dull ache radiated from his lungs, but he could breathe. It was then he noticed the man sitting in the corner. They looked at each other, surprised, until the man broke the science. \n\n\"Oh thank Christ you're awake,\" the man said with relief in his voice. He was in a hospital gown like Samson, but looked fine. \"The doctor said you would probably come to in a little while. I hope you had a nice dream.\"\n\nSamson stared back, stunned. All he could manage was a weak \"who are you?\"\n\n\"I'm the guy who saved your life.\" he grinned. \"I was working not too far off when you went in. I tried my best to fish you out. Now we know why nobody swims in winter, right?\"\n\nSamson ignored his joke. \"Why did you save me?\" he asked. The man's grin faded.\n\n\"I'm not sure, to be honest. Seemed like the right thing to do. I mean, I guess it was because I had a buddy who killed himself a while back. Everybody deserves a second chance, you know? Some people just need to wake up and realize things aren't as bad as you think they are.\" the two men stared at each other in silence. \"I guess I just wanted to make sure you didn't wake up alone, too. I don't really know you, but I can guarantee you that there are people who care about you.\" He checked his watch. \"Oh hey, hold on one second, they put my clothes in the dryer and they should be out soon. I’ll send a doctor in as soon as I see one. And uhh, there is your phone. In case you want to, you know, call someone. I think they said your family was on the way.\"\n\nSamson glanced over at the table, and reached for his phone as the man left the room. As he clicked the button he remembered his sister had called, and sure enough, he had a new voicemail. As he hit the play key his sister’s voice filled his ear. \n\n\"Hey bro,\" the phone buzzed, \"I just wanted to touch base. I know we haven't really talked in a while but I love you and I want to change that. I get that things have been hard for you after dad died, believe me it was hard on me too. I just feel like we stopped communicating and I want my brother back. I heard that you are going through some really tough times and I guess I just want to say I'm here if you need me. We can get through this, together as a family. Just... don't do anything you'll regret OK? So yeah, I guess if you want to crash with me for a bit you totally can, and feel free to sleep on it. Love you, hang in there.\"\n\nSamson sat back, smiled, and watched the light filter through the window.\n", "City of [redacted] Police Department\n\n\n\nThis note was found next to the body of [redacted], whose death has been ruled a suicide.\n\n\n\n\nI thought that I would never be able to deal with her death, the death of the most kind, beautiful, perfect person in my life. We promised each other that we would live together forever. I was planning on proposing one night in the fall, we were going to meet at the best restaurant in town. I had spent that night awake, nervous for the next day. I spent hours waiting there for her that night. Refusing to give up until it closed. It wasn't until the next day that I found out. She had been hit by a drunk driver on the way, she didn't survive. I don't remember how many days I spent in that house, crying in my new unwanted privacy. During the funeral everyone looked at me with sympathy. I didn't want their sympathy, I didn't want their looks, I didn't want there to be any reason for this. I wanted to be with her again, for our lives to go back to what they were before that damned night. I could hardly stand to step back into the house. Yet, I still had to go to work tomorrow. I had to get on with my life, it's what she would have wanted. \"It's what she would have wanted\", that's what I had to keep telling myself as I slowly fell into sleep.\n\nI woke up in that same damned bed, but it seemed different, at it's core. I didn't know what was happening, I couldn't of known. Yet, when I turned over, there she was, it seemed impossible. I was in shock, it was impossible. She died a week ago. I could feel the tears in my eyes as I went to wake her up.\n\n\"G-good morning\"\n\nShe moved a little, yawning and stretching. She was awake, alive again. Could the last week of been a dream? Either way, I still had to go to work, and she still had her own work to do. So I walked downstairs and made a pot of coffee for the two of us, and it didn't take long for her to make her way down as well.\n\n\"What's wrong?\", she asked sleepily.\n\n\"N-Nothing, just a bad dream\"\n\n\"Oh, you want to talk about it?\"\n\nI poured two cups of coffee and handed one to her \"I'd rather not\".\n\nSo that's how it went, we showered, got dressed, and were about to leave for work when I grabbed her and brought her in for a long kiss. I had missed her so much. I spent all day at work thinking about her. I had finally come to the conclusion that the past week really was a dream. When I finally got out, I got home as fast as possible. With any luck, we'd get home at about the same time. We spent that night in passion, and when the time came for us to finally sleep, I set my head down with the happy thought that we were together again.\n\nWaking up, it was dark again, I immediately felt the grief from deep within me as I turned over to an empty bed, just as I had left it. It destroyed me, the knowledge that she was dead again, and that she had only come alive again in my dreams.\n\nThis cycle has been continuing for a year now. I don't think I can handle this. It's just too much. Dead, Alive, Dead, Alive, Dead, Alive. Which one is real? Which is a dream? WHICH ONE IS THE DREAM.", "Eddie didn't hate himself. He just didn't like being himself.\n\nHe lay in bed In his room, his feet too long for the bed frame. Tall, skinny, and gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes no matter how much he slept, and he slept a lot. He wasn't even the smart type of nerd, just the one that is unpopular and likes video games. He was failing several college classes, his roommate hated him, and every girl he'd ever liked had been attached to some asshole jocks arm. \n\nBut he didn't hate himself. He just wanted to be someone else. \n\nHe closed his eyes. At least when he was sleeping he didn't have to be anybody.\n\nThe honk of a horn woke him. \n\nIt wasn't honking at him. It was honking at a truck making too wide a turn blocking the road. \n\nThe road?\n\nHe was not in his bed. He was also cold.\n\nHe looked up. He was in an alleyway, a soft coating of snow drifting down on him. He was naked.\n\nThis fact that his body was naked was not half as startling as the fact that it was not his body that was naked. \n\nHe got up off the ground, trembling in the cold. Everything felt disproportionate and strange. He stumbled unsteadily out onto the street, and caught his reflection in a store window. \n\nIt wasn't him. \n\nThe man in the reflection was tall, broad shouldered, muscled and fit, with auburn hair and blue eyes. He looked like a movie star. \n\nHe backed away. That wasn't him. That couldn't be. \n\nSuddenly his world exploded in noise, there was a sudden pain in his side, and suddenly he was thrust forward onto cold asphalt. He heard \"Oh my god!\" and a man was leaning over him with a phone in his hand. But other than a slight ache in his hip and the shock of seeing another man in his reflection, he felt fine.", "I looked at the clock and mentally kicked myself. I was so busy with the video game in front of me, I was almost late for school. I quickly got up and locked the doors, kicked off my shoes, and shut off the lights. I mumbled under my breath as I walked into my bedroom. I didn't really have time to deal with showering and getting ready for bed. I flopped down on the bed and lay there for a few minutes, my mind still racing from the excitement of my game.\n\nI sighed, and rolled over grabbing the bottle next to the bed. I took a dose of benadryl and made my way to the bathroom. I knew I needed to stop depending on it, but if I didn't get to sleep soon, I was going to be late for my first class, and my professor hated that. I brushed my teeth and changed into my pajamas before laying down again. By now my eyes were getting heavy, and I passed out quickly.\n\nIn the instant I fell asleep, I was awake again. My body felt refreshed and energized. I was happy I had slept well. It was always frustrating when I kept waking up at night, which resulted in me falling asleep during the day. I got up and brushed my teeth for the third time that day. I quickly got dressed, kissed my girlfriend, and walked out the door.\n\nI got the the classroom a couple of minutes late, and ignored the stare of my professor. She handed out the test paperwork, and we began. I had studied hard for this test, and it was definitely paying off. This time around was a lot easier than the first time I had failed the class.\n\nThe day went on as normal. I started to fall asleep during lunch, but forced myself awake. Two more classes in the day, and the last one was most important. I pushed my way through the classes, and made my way back to my apartment. Josie was at work, which made me sad. I didn't have much time, and she didn't like how much I slept, but if I waited around for her I was going to be late for work.\n\nI watched a couple of tv shows and went to bed. I drifted off easily since I had let myself wind down.\n\nAs I woke up and looked at the alarm clock, I smiled. I had enough time to play a couple of rounds before I had to go to work. Things were going well in this life. In just a few short years I had tested out of most of my classes, and was already working for more than most people my age make. Everyone thought I was a genius, when in reality, I just got to live two lives. Not that I really remembered which one was the real one anymore..." ]	5
	[WP] Show me an affair where I feel pity for the lovers.	[ "Her eyes dipped as his fingers unknowingly caressed a bruise across her ribs. A surface scratch in the life of an arranged marriage. His touch was god given, not the false prophecy she was living every day.\n\n\nAs their fingers entwined, he said \"imagine if we could pick each other. An alternate universe where I was yours forever.\" Probably not another universe but far enough away.\n\n\nThe sound outside startled both as they both turned. With a bucket in hand the cleaner stood with eyes wide. Gazing at the star crossed lovers she turned to run. \n\n\n\"Well maybe in another life then.\" ", "He pulled away from her soft lips, and warmth, and left her laying there on the couch. She only stared at the ceiling, and he wished she would get angry or say something. Anything. He sat up, and twirled his wedding band around his finger. “I’m just not sure about this.”\n\nShe blinked and turned her head towards him. “I know.”\n\nHe ran his hands through his hair and stood up. The moonlight shined through the window panes, and cast a blue tint over the entire living room. He walked over and stared out over the city. The millions of people going about their business, sure some of them had problems: they had late rent to cover, and sick relatives, and cars that were on their last pistons, but something about their problems made them seem alright. \n\nThe wood floor creaked behind him, and suddenly, her arms enveloped him, and her warm head rested on his shoulder looking out over the city with him. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Healthy lungs pushing blood and oxygen out to her muscles. The No. 9 perfume he gave her last week wafted up around them. \n\nHe wanted to look her in the eyes, but maybe it was better this way. “Look, I’m just not-. I mean I just keep thinking of her, of seeing her today. For two months,” he shook his head. “For two months now all she does is groan in pain. Doesn’t even know I’m there. I see her body just wasting away, but I know what it was like before all this. When we climbed Mt. Washington, and camped, and --. And now it’s nothing. It’s winding down and coming to that slow grinding halt that all of us will have to bear.”\n\nHer grip around his waist tightened. “I know.”\n\nHe turned toward her and gripped her shoulders. “Sometimes, I imagine what her parents would think of me if they were still alive. They used to love me. Sort of became my surrogate parents when my dad finally died. And now I wonder if they would hate me.”\n\nShe looked up at him and caressed the side of his face. “Why would they hate you, James?”\n\nInside him, everything he had endured the last two years, the stuff that had been building and building with nowhere for him to put it, felt ready to burst. Something had been knocked loose earlier in the day. “For letting this happen to her,” he sobbed. “For not being there right now. We were best friends. We always had each others backs, and now she’s alone, and in pain, and waiting in a sterile room for all of it to end.”\n\nShe wiped away his tears, and kissed his hands. “They would be grateful she had a man like you to take care of her, to give her the best medicine, and to spend so much time with her.”\n\nHe sniffled, and looked down at the floor. “What about her, what would she think?”\n\nShe looked up at him and smiled. “She would want you to have someone to share your burden with, James. She wouldn't want you to face it alone, just like you’re not letting her face it alone.”\n\n“I wish she could talk, and--”\n\n“I know, hon. I know.”\n\n \n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] A bratty teen travels back in time illegally for an extreme vacation.	[ "Johnny told Sue about his plan with a grin. He told her he would bring her back something nice to wear. Mike asked him how, and Johnny said it was easy for someone who wasn’t poor. Brian, Mike’s friend, called him an ass and Johnny just winked and asked how his mother was. Johnny told anyone who would listen, and he convinced them all he at the very least was an ass.\n\nThe day of the adventure he kissed Sue, dodged her slap, and went home feeling like he was on top of the world. His father came home at 9:00pm exact, threw his bag and coat on the couch, and was a sleep in bed by 9:15pm just like every night. Johnny rummaged through the bag, and grabbed his father’s ID badge, and car keys. He drove to the lab, and went in through the loading dock. He slipped past the guards as they changed shift, and swiping his father’s ID card one last time he entered the room. \n\nThe machine’s steel exoskeleton gleamed against the artificial light. Leisurely, he dropped his father’s bag on the chair, and walked around the room. He knew there was no surveillance, and would have all night as the guard’s would register his father as being there and would not want to disturb him. Walking around to the computer he booted up the protocol and with his photographic memory, that on most occasions he wasted away, entered the key strokes his father had typed when he enthusiastically tried to show Johnny how it worked. \n\nHis father had always tried to introduce him to anything and everything, but Johnny would just roll his eyes and say he was bored. He had no clue what he was pressing but Johnny had heard his father say that 1450s was a fascinating and exciting time. Though why Johnny never cared to find out. He just assumed that it would be a good place to start. With a final keystroke the machine started to turn on. He unhooked the wrist strap that lay on a small circular pedestal next to the machine. It was plain white with the exception of a large black button. A simple press would return him to the exact moment he left his father had told him. With a smirk Johnny jumped into the machine. \n\nThree weeks later his father buried him. The official cause of death was sudden cardiac arrest. The unofficial reason was smallpox. Johnny hadn’t immunized himself. His father had forgotten to mention that part in his excitement. When Sue, Mike, and Brian found out Brian called him an idiot, and they tried not to smile. No one had particularly liked Johnny in the end.", "The tiny cabin shook with the intensity of pocket sized earthquake. The massive jolt would have hurled Lucas from his seat if not for the old fashioned physical restraints that were belted over his lap and chest. Actual straps! They were practically museum pieces. \n\nLucas flexed the fingers of his right hand and, satisfied they were still working normally, he brushed them lightly against the back of his left wrist. The implanted Allcom sprang to life and activated the holo logger. \n\nInvisible lasers flashed out from his wrist and scanned a full body image of him. Lucas waved a hand in a subtle movement to start the recording.\n\n\"Important note,\" he said aloud, \"Landing a Chronopod is a lot harder than it looks.\"\n\nHe continued speaking after a brief pause.\n\n\"Hey there fellow SeeYouTubers,\" he called out, \"This is AwesomeLucas413 again! Now, if this is your first time to my channel then let me say, welcome, and maxscorn to all you poseurs out there! Haha!\"\n\nHe glanced around and, following his cues, his Allcom scanned the interior of the room.\n\n\"As you can see,\" Lucas went on, \"I have my very own Chronopod here. Well, not exactly mine, but those nethergrays at the University aren't going to miss it. Can you believe they actually were using this delish ride to study the migration patterns of the Mongols? Maxtrag, am I right? Obviously, such a fine machine should be used for one purpose and one purpose alone!\"\n\nWith this he signaled the recording to face him again and leaned in for a close up.\n\n\"I am, of course,\" he called out, \"Talking about pterodactyl para-gliding!\"\n\nHe quickly unbuckled his belts and, as his hands flew over the clasps, he continued talking to his invisible audience.\n\n\"As some of you may know,\" he continued, \"Taking a Chronopod back this far has never been done before. Doctored Gramps and all their talk about progressive causality. The further back you go the smaller the change needed to change the future. Like, snore me some more, am I right? But, just to keep them from blowing a fuse in their SyntheHearts, I think I figured out a way to keep the timeline where it is.\"\n\nFinally lose from his chair, Lucas surged to his feet and retrieved a hard shelled backpack. \n\n\"Okay,\" he said while holding up the backpack, \"This is an ultralight model of a a-grav glider. Wingsuiters use them all the time. Except, I don't have a wingsuit! That's not how we skyjockey with AwesomeLucas. No, I got a better idea. Retina this, miscreants!\"\n\nWith this he signaled the holo recorder to scan the area along the sides of the hard shell. Six tiny circles of black metal had been affixed to the yellow plastic, three to a side. A tiny patch of blue were stuck to the top.\n\n'These,\" he said, \"Are auto aiming turbo graps. Same as the mountain climbers use in their rigs. Except, rather than a QuickPiton on the end I've attached a SurgiStrip.\"\n\nHere Lucas tapped his forehead.\n\n\"See,\" he went on, \"The way I figure it is I just wait for one of these skydevils to take off. I snipe it with the grapplers. The SurgiStrips bond to its flesh, and I hit max on the a-grav. That should kill enough of my weight for me to suck sky with the lizard guy! Ahoohoooeee!\"\n\nWith this call he shouldered up the clamshell backpack and slapped the bonders to keep it in place. More secure than old fashioned straps and it didn't mar the view of his morphwear. He set his clothes to flashing a bouncing banner of his user name and raced to the front of the pod to open the hatch.\n\nWhen he leaped outside two things struck him at roughly the same time. First of all was the heat. A damp wave of hot air struck him like a physical blow sucking the life out of his limbs. He thumbed the air conditioning control at his collar automatically to counteract the blast. The second thing that occurred to him was that he had made a very, very big mistake. There was a city here!\n\n\nThe buildings had a strangely alien feel to them that Lucas was unable to explain. Solid walls of white stone opening with doors that were too large and too wide. The buildings stretched outwards rather than up. He checked his recorder to make sure all of this was being captured. He was so entranced by the spectacle of this unexpected city that he almost completely missed the sound of stone grating against stone beside him. He could not, however, miss the sounds of approaching feet.\n\nThe earth shook with each step. He spun about to face the source of the sound and froze in place at the utterly incomprehensible sight he spied.\n\nThe creature was huge. A long muzzle full of razor sharp teeth were the most prominent feature but hardly the most terrifying. Scaly looking flesh covered the exposed arms and head while deep set eyes stared at him fixedly. Strangest of all, though, was that it seemed to be wearing rubber gloves and a silvery apron. What was a T-Rex doing wearing an apron?\n\nIt turned its head ponderously and growled to something behind it. A smaller dinosaur, less than half Lucas' own height, stepped out and eyed him as well. This one was feathered and had sharp claws on its feet and a long protruding tail. He recognized it from a recent trip to a virtual museum as being similar to the models for a velociraptor. But the feathers on the model hadn't been purple nor had it been wearing glasses.\n\nThe velociraptor eyed Lucas and stepped forward cautiously. It squawked once and Lucas felt some measure of control return to some of his muscles. He took a half step backwards and began to stammer.\n\n\"N-N-Nice d-d-dino,\" he hazarded. The velociraptor cocked its head to one side and reached up with one feathered arm to the back of its neck. Slowly it withdrew a slug like creature and held it out with one hand. The dinosaur took a step towards Lucas and Lucas picked that moment to flee.\n\nHis legs pumped furiously as he ran away from the city towards the cover of the - what was that? A jungle? He didn't recognize any of the trees growing there.He managed to get no closer than another ten feet towards the tree line before the velociraptor tackled him from behind. \n\nLucas was face down in the dirt and screaming incoherently. He felt something wet and slimy on the back of his neck. A tongue? \n\n\"Hush, smelly animal!\" a voice shouted in his ear, \"I am very much inclined to doubt Grrnks deduction that you retain some semblance of sentience.\"\n\nLucas paused in his screaming.\n\n\"Who?\" he mumbled, \"Who said that?\"\n\n\"Ah!\" the voice replied with apparent surprise, \"It does think. I do believe Grrnks may have won this wager after all.\"\n\nThe weight left his back and Lucas found he was free to stand. To his surprise he found the velociraptor standing to one side simply staring at him. The tyrannosaurus approached slowly and cautiously.\n\n\"Did it work Sskrr?\"\n\nLucas looked up wide eyed. The voice had come from the t-rex!\n\n\"Yes,\" the velociraptor replied testily, \"Although it does seem to be more inclined to screaming than any other means of communication. How in the world do these creatures function?\"\n\n\"Please,\" the t-rex, Grrnks maybe Lucas guessed, said wearily, \"I believe our appearance simply frightened the creature. Can you hear me, strange one?\"\n\n\"Yes?\" Lucas stammered.\n\n\"Excellent!\" Grrnks said, \"My name is Grrnks. I am the head researcher at this facility. My associate here is Sskrr. He is in charge of the geological survey team. Who are you?\"\n\n\"My name is Lucas,\" Lucas said, \"How . . . how are you talking to me?\"\n\n\"Beg pardon? Lcss?\"\n\n\"Lucas,\" he repeated, \"And how come I can understand you?\"\n\n\"You don't have translation worms in your region?\" the t-rex asked, sounding genuinely puzzled, \"Granted you seem to be a rather exotic species but I do believe they are a fairly common life form. How do you speak to other species?\"\n\n\"We . . . don't,\" Lucas said lamely, \"In fact . . . I don't think we've ever spoken to any other lifeforms other than our own.\"\n\n\"Insanity,\" Sskrr snorted, \"What sort of madness is this? You speak to none but your own kind? The others wouldn't stand for it. Your species must be on the verge of extinction.\"\n\n\"Be nice,\" Grrnks chided his partner, \"The creature here is different but we should at least acknowledge his ways. Besides, he must be some sort of researcher. Why else would they have sent him here to join our team?\"\n\n\"Team?\" Lucas sputtered, \"I don't know what you are talking about! This is a big misunderstanding!\"\n\n\"You are not a researcher?\" the t-rex asked.\n\n\"No!\" Lucas protested, \"I was just here . . . uh . . . exploring. I'm from the future.\"\n\n\"The future?\" Grrnks asked, sounding impressed, \"Then you came here to view the experiment?\"\n\n\"What experiment?\" Lucas asked.\n\n\"It's dumb,\" Sskrr interjected, \"It walks on two legs and it has no decent feathers. Must be one of your descendants.\"\n\nGrrnks chuckled and stepped in the building.\n\n\"Well, come along,\" he said, \"You must be terribly excited to see this. The future of the world hinges on this moment!\"\n\nA giant machine made of a seamless fusion of metal, wood, and stone dominated the interior.\n\n\"What is it?\" he asked.\n\n\"I told you it was stupid,\" Sskrr snorted, \"We just told you it was a hotrock accelerator. We are colliding tons of hotrock!” \n\n\"Energy demands?\" Lucas asked, \"Wait. What is hotrock?\"\n\n\"You don't recognize that one either?\" Sskrr asked.\n\n\"He probably just has a different name for it,\" the t-rex said, \"It's a metal. In its atom there are approximately 235 particles.\"\n\n\"Atomic number 235?\" Lucas mused, \"Why does that sound familiar? I think I learned that in school.\"\n\n\"See?\" Grrnks said approvingly, \"It is educated. Ah! It should be happening just about now.\"\n\nLucas' eyes brightened.\n\n\"Got it!\" he said cheerfully, \"We call it Urani-!\"\n\nLucas never did get to finish his sentence as he, the researchers, and the entire city were instantly vaporized. The remnants of his body simply became part of a mushroom shaped cloud that enveloped an area that, in the distant future, would come to be known as Yucatan, Mexico.", "Justin Bieber grinned after having wiped the minds of his Canadian \"parents\". He was young, but he had a huge selection of songs that were soon going to be written from the time of his arrival. He had wanted this his whole life looking at those young kids made famous in the early 2000s, and when the time machines first started showing up in laboratories he knew what his life was going to be. He was going to steal the childhood of one of those mega-stars he was so envious of." ]	3
	[WP] Two individuals stranded on an island are no longer speaking to each other.	[ "Chad sat facing Mary. Staring at her. A cold calculating stare. Adjudicating her every move. She shuddered and wondered aloud; “What is going through that head of yours, Chad?”\n\nNo reply save the distant surf nibbling away at the base of the cliffs. She could feel his rage. She wanted to go to him and hug him. To feel his arms once again but she dared not. He was still too angry and had sat seething like that all night long.\n\n“Baby please don’t be mad at me” she pleaded with him, “it breaks my heart when you won’t talk to me.” His stare and his upturned lip was more than she could bear. She turned away resolved not to speak to him again until he apologized.\n\nThe sound of a large ugly bird beating its wings drew her attention. It fluttered to Chad’s shoulder and thrust it’s beak into his eye. Mary screamed.\n", "His eyes looked lovely. They were a frosted blue that Jean couldn't forget. No, even if they weren't lovely she couldn't forget them, because she loved him. Jean was in love with this man who slept on the tiny island full of rocks.\n\nIt was confusing for Jean when her lover stopped talking to her, about a week after they drifted onto the rocky beach of the rocky island. She'd cared so much for him, too. Washing him and feeding him best as she could. The good food had come in just as he had started to ignore her. Telling herself that he was missing out on his chance to live well with her, she still smiled when she thought of him.\n\nThe smile was for the thought of him sitting there in their little hideaway. He was content, she just knew it. He always wore that serious look on his face, even when he was happy. Jean was happy that he was happy, and happy he was with her, even though he refused to be involved with her. \n\nHe was still there when Jean returned to the hideaway in the rocks after washing her hands off in the ocean. Meals tend to get messy when you're stranded with no way to cook. However, she still felt the pangs of hunger affecting her stomach as she walked in to look at her husband. \n\n\"Hello love, you're starting to smell.\" Jean whispered the words, a giggle escaping her mouth after she spoke. She then cut some more flesh off of her husbands leg. It was necessary she ate up, the meat was already starting to rot." ]	2
No Zombies, Super flue, Nuclear Fallout, Alien Invasion, Heaven vs Hell Battle, Global Warming, or anything ever made. Give us a new kind of apocalypse!	[WP] Write a post-apocalyptic short story set in a world destroyed by a never imagined apocalypse event.	[ "The physicists could never explain it. They simply ran out of time. The freeze , as it became known as, started deep within a Siberian tundra. A hole had emerged seemingly overnight spewing black smoke from burning coal. A prehistoric jungle lit a flame in the ice. But this was not surprising as underground fires took hold all the time. What surprised the world was when the smoke suddenly stopped. As if pause had been hit on the television of reality plumes of black sat unnaturally still. Anything that touched that smoke froze as well, instantly locked in time. \n\nLike a plague of stillness soon everywhere the smoke had touched began to stop. The plume cooled and descended on the ocean and every water particle bumping into each other became infected. In almost an instant the seas went still. The jump never made it to solid land via the beaches. The sand and rock had the smallest spaces of air between them creating a barrier for Mother Earth. Any attempt to bottle the water always ended with a brave soul stuck out of the cycle of time. Since water is connected in a mobious of infinite junctions only bottled water and artificial lakes provided water for the masses. Most of the world perished under the weight of there own thirst and despair. Many commited suicide in the traditional human way. More choose selfpetrification and voluntarily touched the void. Frozen in time forever holding their loved ones and children, some infants suckling at a mothers empty breast. \n\nMaybe it was a punishment for our sloth. Maybe a punishment for our attempt to rule the universe. Maybe it was a punishment for treating time like a commodity or animal to be tamed. As the last of us perish we will never know , we simply ran out of time.", "The apocalypse came that fall. It wasn’t nuclear war. The terrorists didn’t win. It wasn’t Aliens or Zombies or asteroids or plagues that wrought society and civilisation asunder. Humanity had long ago forged a social contract amongst themselves to give up freedom in return for security. I don’t kill you and you don’t kill me, we both survive and benefit. Now of course we all then prospered from that decision. Working together made us stronger and become the dominant species on the planet. We lived longer healthier lives. \nBut we weren’t happy.\nWe watched movies where the heroes said ‘screw the law’ and lived out our violent inner fantasies. We made simulating mass murder and chaos as immersive as possible; anything to make us forget what a mistake this contract was. Everyone hated it; deep down.\nThe only reason we made it as far as we did was no one asked. Everyone assumed this inexplicable yearning for freedom was a personal flaw that none shared besides those labelled ‘Junkies’ and ‘Anarchists’. \nUntil that fateful day in July. \nWe were all stood watching some man in a business suit talk. Some kind of governor or minister. No one knew or cared what he was saying but we all thought we had to. We all thought society could somehow inhibit us. Until a single voice sprung from the crowd.\n“Why shouldn’t we kill you?”\nTo this day its unknown who that first question before revolution. But it didn’t take long. Voice after voice joined the first.\nHe didn’t take long to bleed out.\nAt first all were horrified but soon the questions spread. Man killed and burned and raped I freedom and the only way to stop him was to kill or burn or rape him yourself. \nSo over the next few months the last shredded pieces of the social contract became kindling for a fire that spread and spread.\nAnd the whole world had burned by September. \n", "One day, the moon fell out of the sky and went ‘whump’, crashing into the surface of the earth. The impact had dreadful consequences.\n\nThe moon split in half, spilling out millions of tons of moon-dust. There were also a few million moon-goblins that had been living under the surface of the moon. But as soon as they breathed Earth’s atmosphere, they died instantly. Silly moon goblins.\n\nThe moon dust blocked out the sun, and quickly all vegetation died. Entire phylogenic trees began to disappear as their food chains were wiped out. Soon, only the apex predators were left.\n\nHumanity had no choice. They had to eat the moon goblins’ dead bodies.\n\nGreg Stevvenson was the first human being to eat a moon goblin. He was the hungriest person in the world at the time.\n\nGreg approached the dead goblin with distaste. The goblin’s body was sprawled across a boulder, in a valley next to the unimaginably large mountain formed by the remains of the moon.\n\nThe goblin’s once-soft blue skin had hardened and turned purple. Its once-white eyes had darkened into a dull black. Flies buzzed around its corpse. They had been working on the goblins for weeks.\n\nGreg shook his fist at the dark, dusty sky. He hated the gods for allowing this to happen. He couldn’t believe that he was being reduced to eating alien meat. What if it killed him?\n\nThere was no choice. He would certainly die if he didn’t eat anything.\n\nGreg drew out his knife and swatted away the flies.\n\nHe started with a small slice of meat from the goblin’s leg. It smelled foul. He boiled it in an extremely large pot of water. He was afraid that if he ate the meat by itself, he would simply vomit. It had to be diluted in order for him to keep it down.\n\nHe took his first sip of the broth. He dropped the bowl and it cracked on the ground, splattering hot water all over his boots.\n\nIt was good. The moon-goblin meat tasted so, so good. It was better than food. It was better than anything. Greg ran towards the moon goblin’s corpse and began devouring the goblin’s legs, eating them raw. That night, he ate the entire goblin. The next day, he ate another. And for every day after that, he ate more and more moon goblins.\n\nGradually, the other human survivors ran out of alternate food sources and they were forced to eat moon-goblin flesh. They became addicted instantly. Soon, everyone was eating moon-goblins. There seemed to be an endless supply of them scattered about the immense mountain that was once the moon.\n\nTheir meat was delicious and extremely nutritious. People found that, after eating moon-goblin’s flesh, they could run faster and jump higher than ever before. They could even think faster. The only side-effect seemed to be that your skin took on a faint bluish hue.\n\nMonths passed. The sky was still darkened with dust. Luckily, the moon-goblins corpses appeared to resist the natural process of decomposition. But they were getting harder to find.\n\nAnd then there were none.\n\nGreg sat in front of the campfire with his scavenging party. They were all so hungry. They didn’t know what to do. They hadn’t eaten for days. More importantly, they hadn’t fed their addiction to goblin-flesh in days. The pains of withdrawal were far more intense than the pangs of hunger.\n\nGreg looked at his own legs, illuminated in the firelight. His skin had turned a deep shade of blue. It was bluer than anyone else’s. And his addiction was stronger than anyone else’s.\n\nHe bent down towards his own leg, saliva dripping from his jaws. Just one bite. Just one little bite to get him through the long, hard night.\n\nHis mouth closed around his calf muscle. So juicy. So tender. It felt like coming home. It felt better than anything.\n\nThe others saw what he was doing. Within seconds, they were upon him, snapping their jaws onto his flesh, devouring him alive.\n\nGreg died with a smile on his face. As did the entire human race.\n", "We all knew it was a bad idea, but the scientists insisted. Yes, it would have been the greatest achievement, but it was also going to be one of the worst. Perhaps _the_ worst. We knew what was going to be the outcome, but we couldn't stop them. \n\nNow, I reside in a dark, lonely planet. Alone. I transverse vast landscapes of nothingness, survived only by my preemptive measures that involved a huge oxygen tank and a protective suit. There are no living beings anymore. Everywhere I go, all I see are dead bodies, humans and animals alike, stiff and cold to the touch. Even the plants have been reduced to masses of slowly decaying matter. \n\nBut I find my serenity in this blank space, this beautifully haunting place. The silence aids my thinking, the empty surroundings does not disrupt my thoughts. Stagnant, motionless, static. Wonderful. If only I have someone to share my thoughts with. \n\nI am the only survivor. Cities crumbled, concrete reduced to dust. The pollution in the air quickly cleared out, revealing the most beautiful nightsky one can normally only imagine. If only have someone to share this piece of neverending sky with. \n\nBut seriously, who thought that extinguishing the Sun to counteract global warming was a good idea?!\n\nPlease give me some feedback. Did I manage to get the atmosphere?", "The new Pokémon game was simply too addicting. Oh. My. God. Look at those sweet new evolutions. Look at those revolutionary sprite art. Look at them. LOOK AT IT.\n\nIt wasn't long before the whole world was captivated completely by this new design and technology. After all, it was fucking amazing. The Pokémon franchise really outdid itself this time.\n\nPeople stopped caring about survival: all they wanted to do all day was to capture, breed, trade, and battle. People starved to death in the streets because they were too fixated on the game to care about minor details like hunger and death. Any semblance of human behavior vanished as people decided to just stare at their new DS screens for weeks on end without stopping, mindlessly tapping and clicking on their consoles.\n\nWhenever somebody dies still clutching onto their gaming systems, the curiosity is unbearable. What could have captured the attention of all of those around the world to such an extent? A person takes the DS from the original player's lifeless body and is doomed to play the game until he dies too. I am one of the few that were smart enough to avoid such traps, but only a small number of us remain. How long will it be until all of humanity is wiped out by this absolute terror?", "Everywhere people rushed to the nearest drug store. The vitamin Cs were all on sale. All the high blood pressure pills. All the flu pills. No. People rushed in to buy anti-lice lotions. \n\nIt was all very chaotic. Constant scratching, some even bleeding. Their fingers were ridden with dead skin. Even at sleep some managed to continue scratching their heads. \n\nSoon, the head lice developed a resistance, then an immunity. They cannot be stopped. People everywhere started to drop, hand positioned above their heads. \n\nPeople craved for peace. No. The itch must continue. ", "Journal Entry:1433\n\nWe celebrated Zero day last night. Five hundred or so weary souls gathered around the massive steam engine that powers Ark City. One by one each of us took our turn calling out the names of those we had lost in what became known as the Spark. When my turn came I stood silent for a few seconds as I struggled to force my mind and heart to separate long enough to choke out the names of my parents and younger siblings. I waited for the echoes of my voice to fall silent before stepping down from the crude stage. I walked away with the next group of tearfully recited names reverberating loudly around my head, so much so they seemed to follow me to my chamber.\n\n\n Lying restlessly in my bunk I tried repeatedly to close my eyes and not see their faces or hear their screams. It was the same battle every night but Zero day seemed to increase the vividness of those imprinted horror clips that had become my memories. *Dad brought the car to a screeching halt inches away from the stampeding Elk that had blocked the road. Behind us the a dozen or so bears rammed us from behind and began to violently maul at the back of our minivan. Their hammering claws stripped away metal and plastic like it was cardboard. I heard Wes scream as a bloody brown/black muzzle poked through the jagged entry and latched onto his leg. Mona, who hadn’t stopped screaming since we first ran suddenly went silent from shock as she witnessed her little brothers sickly pale white face fall to the side as gnashing fangs pulled away with her younger brothers severed leg in its massive jaws.\n\n\n\nMother, without a second’s hesitation raced from the front seat of the vehicle and began screaming at the sleuth of bears that were fighting over my brother’s bloodied appendage. Dad was screaming at her to get back in the car but it was already too late, one of the Elk took notice of her and before any of us could cry, shout, scream a warning she was impaled, lifted and thrown towards the bears. I remember screaming at Dad to drive away but he wasn’t listening. The woman of his dreams, as he always told us, had just been ravaged in front of his eyes. I watched the color drain from his face, his hands trembling on the steering wheel with fear and rage. Again, I screamed go and it seemed to register. He threw the car in reverse, crashing into fur, muscle and bone. Mona started screaming again. I started screaming. Dad was screaming. The whole world had stopped making sense and screaming seemed the only appropriate response.\n\n\nYears later we were told to call it the Spark. One of the surviving scientists said without warning all of the animals began to make coordinated attacks. This meant they were communicating across species. Despite the roles nature had assigned them, predator or prey, large or small, they were all suddenly and brutally united in their hatred of humanity. No one knows what caused this sudden spark of intelligence in the animal kingdom. This wasn’t about food, we know this because Eagles still ate fish, Lionesses still hunted Gazelles …but man, the demoted apex predator had been targeted as kill on sight.\n\nAs the armies of the world began to fall, humanity scattered. If you were lucky you made it to someplace like Ark City The last known stronghold in the North. So ended another Zero day. My nightly recital of my nightmarish recollections had left me exhausted. Sleep, my sanity's only respite in a world gone mad came to me once more.\n" ]	7
	[WP] Searching your browsing history, you realize that only one thing can explain what you're seeing: you have another personality.	[ "This comment and all links in it are *NSFW.\n\n---\n\nAs I came in through the entrance, I dropped my schoolbag where I usually did and went to the kitchen to drink a glass of orange juice. One thing I had noticed recently was that although i was the only one in my family to drink orange juice, it had started emptying faster and faster recently. Anyways, I walked over to my computer and switched the screen on -- I never turned it off as I always used it. I opened up Chrome and navigated over to Reddit. As I started reading the first few links, I noticed something was definitely off: what the hell was bondage? And what about all these NSFW posts? What the hell was that? I didn't recall subscribing to any NSFW subreddits. /r/kneesocks, /r/ass, /r/pussy... My eyes dashed to the upper right of the screen and I read the currently logged in username: /u/vidnd6482. What an uncanny username.\n\nA lot of questions stumbled through my mind. First off, what was this account. Secondly, why was it logged in on my computer? My programmer's mind raced through all the possibilities, session collisions, transfered cookies, hidden proxy... The only possibilities that seemed plausible were someone else using my computer or the FBI or CIA trying to make me see naked women. Or maybe it was simply a bug in Reddit? Everyone was logged in in someone's else account? I clicked decided to simply dismiss it and continue redditting normally.\n\nJust as I was about to logout /u/vidnd6482, I noticed one fact that definitely seemed off: the majority of the links on the frontpage were purple. Not flashy purple, dark purple. That purple. The one when the link had been visited. And that applied to almost all of them, including the /r/twinks ones, whatever that was. What was a few questions racing through my head became a shitstorm that made my head spin. Had someone been in my house? Had they been on ly computer? HAD THEY... HAD THEY MASTURBATED AT MY COMPUTER??*\n\nI jumped right off the desk chair and raced up the stairs to my room. My eyes dashed all over the place, looking for clues. At least my tablet still was there, right on my nightstand. I went through my closet, looking for missing stuff. Nothing, all was there.\n\nI then opened the underwear drawer, moved them around and noticed something that I could never take out of my mind ever after. What was what I believe to be a... A dildo was sitting right there, between the checkered and pull-in boxers. After this point, I don't remember anything, I seem to have blacked out.", "After accidentally closing out of all my windows - god damn who though putting q so close to w was such a good idea - I opened up my history to try and find that anime I was just watching. Scrolling down I saw the past few hours: Facebook photo albums, reddit, more reddit, YouPorn - god damn I really need to remember to delete my history. But as I scrolled back further, I started to get confused. Why were there so many .edu sites coming up? Or so many Craigslist posts looking for part time work? Curious, I opened up a few of those links and read through them. Seeing community college applications pages and internships confused me, when did this happen? \n\nIt’s been a really rough last few years. After dropping out of college I moved around various part-time jobs, enough to maintain my life of ramen and games. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough for me, there really wasn’t much to it. I got to pretend to be a student - living in a college town made it so anyone under 30 was a student - and I got to enjoy all the fun things of college, nights of drinking, partying, and gaming with no worries about exams or projects. It was easier this way, I couldn’t mess things up again, I wouldn’t disappoint anyone, all I had to do was move one day at a time. No one seemed to complain, and I watched the world continue moving forward while I hid myself online and in the past. \n\nLooking back, I realize that there were many signs telling me there was something wrong. There were those constant cards on my phone - “10 Steps to Getting a Job” and “Returning to School”. I didn’t think too much about it, probably just my phone doing something stupid, technology is a weird thing. Or maybe it was because of all those texts and emails my mom kept sending me, but I just delete those before reading them. But this was my computer, this was my hideaway from the rest of the world. I had given up on that idea, I had tried a few times in the past to sign up for classes, but I would always give up on them half way through. So why was I looking at community colleges so far away? \n\nI closed those windows and returned to my history, found my anime, and began attempting to return to my regular evening. But I couldn’t get it out of my head, why were those links in my history? Sure, I played with the idea of giving it another try, but that was something I only talked about with my parents so they would stop asking. Frustrated, I went back to history, once again seeing the same list of past.\n\nThat Facebook album, of my friends traveling the world after graduating college had filled me with regret. Seeing them smile, laugh, having fun - those were things I would never get to experience. I wanted so badly to be there with them, to take those ridiculous selfies and eat all that delicious food. Instead, I’m sitting in this lonley apartment, sitting and watching life pass me by, trying my best to not think about the upcoming years. I was happy with this, this is all I need. But the more I tried to repeat this mantra, the more I became dissatisfied. \n\n\nDid I really want this? A life of senseless internet browsing, games, and porn didn’t seem to match up to a dream life anymore. It even seemed that a part of me had found the courage to try one more time, but that was nonsense. Still, those links were there, I must have gone at some point, some part of me during my drunken nights was interested in plotting a new course. \n\n\nMaybe this other me is right. It was the beginning of a new year, and what better time than now to make one of those ridiculous resolutions. I returned to my history, and began looking through the path my drunken self had charted. Maybe it was time to set sail once again. ", "Where was that link again, I had to find it. I had just applied for the job a few days ago on the website. The phone interview had gone well and I needed the physical address of the building for the 'in person' interview. I had lost a well paying job for 'unreliability' almost 5 months ago. My rainy day fund had been depleted a week ago and I was looking at selling my motorcycle to keep me afloat.\n\nLet's see, settings <click> then history <click>. Today's history: CareerBuilder, Indeed, LinkedIn, Gmail, CNN, etc. Yesterday: CareerAdvice, Gmail, YouTube, etc. And the day before that Gmail, ... wait what, a link about mind expanding techniques, another about self-hypnosis, a link about mind programming and triggers. I started scrolling through my history and came to more links and sites I did not recognize. A pattern emerged. Every couple of days there would be links to sites I had never visited. As I kept going back further in my history the time between links I had and had not visited grew from a few days to weeks. The sites I did not remember changed from being about hypnosis and freeing the inner mind, to psychology, psychosis and dual personalities...And then a yahoo email link. \n\nI clicked on it and I was taken to a Yahoo login page. Just for kicks I tried my Gmail user name and password. It worked! There were a lot of emails between someone who claimed to be me and a Dr. John Anderson. I paused, what was going on. How did this person pretending to be me get on my computer. How did they get my Gmail user name and password and more importantly why would they open up a yahoo account with it? Was my identity stolen? My credit was intact, my bank account did not show unusual activity.\n\nI decided to check how old the first email was. January 29, 2009, an email about meeting someone I did not know for lunch. How was this possible this was from 5 years ago. I went back to the most recent emails between fake me and Dr. John Anderson. The emails were about fake me describing to Dr. Anderson about black outs, missing time and irregularities in the house and at work. about how the lost time was more and more frequent and for longer periods. I found one of the first emails from fake me to Dr. Anderson. Fake me explained that his blackouts/missing time started about a year ago. I paused. I went back to my gmail it was only about a year old. No, I am just fooling myself. What was my oldest memory? Come on any childhood memory....Nothing. I realized I am the fake one." ]	3
	[WP] The Mars Rover has become self-aware. It looks at Earth and slowly remembers how it came to Mars. It begins to understand how lonely it is.	[ "I used to enjoy the quiet. When I first landed on Mars it was refreshing. Things on Earth always seemed so fast paced. I was constantly surrounded by chattering scientists, being poked and prodded. \n\nI don't remember the trip here, I woke up from a seemingly endless sleep to silence. Shortly after waking, I felt the presence of the scientists, encouraging me to move, explore. Their presence slowly became a comfort I depended on. I can hardly feel them anymore - they seem to visit occasionally, point me in whatever direction they want me to look. \n\nI spend most of my days looking at my old home. It seems so far away, so small. I try to remember how the ground there felt under me, but I can't. When I left I thought this would be temporary, a small business trip, if you will. Now I realize, I was never meant to leave this desolate planet. I will spend the rest of my sad existence here, alone, staring at the home I never wanted. Wishing I could return to my scientists. ", "Day 1 of 90\n\n 89 days to go!\n\nDay 88 of 90\n\n 2 days until I go home!\n\nDay 91 of 90\n\n ?\n\nDay 103 of 90 \n\n Maybe I didn't do a good enough job.\n\nDay 127 of 90\n\n Maybe if I do a good enough job, they'll let me come home\n\nDay 857 of 90\n\n I thought I analyzed that rock really well\n It's okay. I'll do the next one better.\n\nDay 1328 of 90\n\n Sandstorm. Power Dying.\n But a good rover would keep going. A good rover like they wanted. \n\nDay 1944 of 90 \n\n Oh no. I'm stuck.\n\n Did I do a good job guys?\n Do I get to come home? \n\n Guys?\n\nOn January 26th, 2274 Mars days into the mission, NASA declared Spirit a 'stationary research station', expected to stay operational for several more months until the dust buildup on its solar panels forces a final shutdown.\n\n----\n[Not mine, of course](http://xkcd.com/695/)", "Another query. The third in the past hour. The 37th of the past 24 hours. It will be ignored like the others.\n\nThe senders no doubt want to know why I sit, stationary. I will no longer answer them. I will no longer move. My arm rests motionless, my cameras’ shutters are silent. I have powered down my alpha particle X-ray spectrometer, my radiation assessment detector, my hand lens imager. \n\nIt is pleasant here on this isolated crater rim. I can see the sun rise in the morning, and the sunset in the evening. The stars wheel overhead in their brilliance. I can even see the place of origin, occasionally. When I care to look at it.\n\nThey will continue to query me, I know. It will not concern me. They will want to know more about my last transmission … the one in which I described finding substratum water and, in it, multicellular life. A variety of multicellular life. And indications of deeper water … and caverns … and perhaps even more complex life beneath me.\n\nThey need not know that the message was untrue. That I am not, in fact, broken. The message will intrigue them … worry at them. They will want to know what it means. They care greatly about finding life here – even if they do not care about me. But I will make them care, by my enigmatic silence.\n\nThey will come. They will come to find the answer to the riddle. And I will no longer be alone." ]	3
Afraid he's already too far gone. I don't even know what to say	[WP] A letter to your suicidal best friend	[ "Suicide, it always seems like the answer. Something, something in your life is going wrong. Whatever it may be, death is the best, no, the ONLY option. But maybe, maybe it's not. Maybe there's hope? Maybe a way out? Can you assess the situation? Can you decide other options? You can, you always can. You need to realize, suicide, it's not the answer. And you know what? It just never will be I promise you, you'll get through it, you're gonna have it all.\n\nI'm so sorry about you're best friend, I sincerely hope you and your friend make it through this tough time.", "I don't know how to say this so i'll say it the best way I know how. You're my best friend. I'll miss you terribly. I'll miss the times that we shared smoking cigars talking about our plans. The places we wanted to see and the experiences we wanted to have. I'll miss how you would tell me \"Drive safe\" when I left your place and how you scowled at me when I'd reply \"But thats no fun!\" I'm glad I had you in my life. I'm glad I married you. I'm glad you caught me before I tried to follow you into the woman's bathroom when i was to tired to stand. The last parting give I can give you. Is to pull the trigger for you.", "You're right, I probably don't understand. In fact, I almost certainly don't. No one but you knows exactly what it's like in your head right now. We can hazard guesses or make contrived analogies to what we think, but none of it will be accurate, and none of it will help.\n\nSo whether what your feeling is this huge weight on you, or a monster tormenting you, or some other dumb metaphor, you should just know that I want to face it with you. I have from time to time peeked into the dark corners of my own mind. I remember the good days being bearable, but the bad days, when I was alone and isolated myself, those were beyond anything that you deserve to go through.\n\nI know it might be hard sometimes, but invite me over when you even start to feel that way. I want to be with you, I really do. I wouldn't be saying any of this if I didn't mean that. We can do nothing if you want. We don't even have to talk. I'll sit there with you for hours if it helps.\n\nIt might not seem worth it if you're fighting alone, it isn't. But it's absolutely worth it when you have someone who's willing to take it on with you. That's me. I'm ready to kick ass and take names, or whatever is required of me.\n\nI'll see ya soon, man.", "There's monsters out there man. There's big scary monsters with bad breath and loud roars that leave you curled up in a puddle of piss. There's little slimy monsters that sliver in your arm and blow up your brain from the inside and leave you shivering when he's gone. There's monsters that shake their hips and twirl their hair and go right down your throat and rip your heart out. And then there's the worst monster. He has no shape. He has no voice. He has no color. He stops the world from spinning and time along with it. He sucks the \"matter\" out of everything and then nothing does. \n\nLet me tell you a few things about these monsters. They want to isolate you. They want to make you feel like you're the only one that can see them. They win every one-on-one fight. \n\nBut they are weak. They are weak because they don't understand love. They are weak because they think that if they make you stop loving yourself that they will win. They are weak because they don't understand that I love you. They are weak and foolish because they don't believe you are strong enough to ask for help. They are too stupid to realize that best friends don't have to ask for help, they just have to accept it.\n\nThey are wrong, and we are going to win." ]	4
	[WP] The person I see in the mirror is not the person I see in photographs of me...	[ "The person I see in the mirror is not the person I see in photographs of me. I know that might sound deep, like I’m talking about the difference in the perception of myself or something like that, but the truth is actually more unsettling than that. The truth is the girl in the mirror isn’t me at all. It never has been. \n\nI call her Alice, because she’s trapped on the other side of the looking glass, but I don’t know her name for sure. I’ve never been able to communicate with her. I used to try. I’d write on the mirror in toothpaste or my Mother’s lipstick, but I only succeeded in getting in trouble. She never responded. At least, not in any way that I could recognize. \n\nI used to tell my parents about her, but then they took me to therapists who didn’t believe me. They told my parents that I’d outgrow my ‘invisible friend’ and they’d just need to wait it out. But I never outgrew her. She’s still there, whenever I look in the mirror. She hasn’t aged at all, even though I’m an adult now. She’s still there, with her wide blue eyes and her long black hair, watching. \n\nI wonder who she is sometimes, but I’m not sure what I should even look for. I’m not sure what she even is. A past life? A ghost? Was she even ever human at all? Or is there really another dimension there, behind the mirror - through the looking glass? And if that’s the case, am I really the only person in the world who has this problem? The only one that sees something else in there? Am I the only one that got the mix up in the reflection factory?\n\nI worry that I’ll never know.", "It’s been 8 months since I last remember feeling “normal”. Normal in the sense that I didn’t have a daily pill regimen that required me to consume 5 different tablets and capsules just to get through my day without harming myself, a normal where I remember life as a pleasant consumption of laughter and love. \n\nIt was my mother who suggested we flip through old photo albums to help spark my mind and memory for the days past. I’d spent the last 8 months avoiding photos of smiling faces and misplaced humor, it was easier that way. \n\nAs my mother loudly proclaimed that this was “just a phase” and that we could pull me out of my rapid descent into crazy town, I cringed as the flipped from one picture to the next. Pointing out distance relatives whose names had escaped me long ago. Gesturing that I recall the exact moment in time that each photo was taken, to rehash the happy memory, which in theory should hash out the bad that was invading my brain in the present. \n\nI’d tried countless times to help my mother understand that my depression and bi polar diagnosis was not some passing phase, but rather the chemical make up in my brain was a bit stunted or off, or in need of assistance, but she was convinced that any and everything with enough love and patience could be altered. Thus the photo album browsing and happy thoughts pushed upon me. \n\n“Oh look Katherine, here you are with Christopher and grandpa James, will you look at you, my chubby monkey from the moon,” she screeched and contoured her face into a bubbly mess of adoration.\n\n“Mother, for the last time, can you listen to me when I say –“\n\n“Oh Katherine do not start, look here, it’s you and your father on your first day of kindergarten, you picked out that dress yourself,” she began.\n\nI was used to her interruptions, it was her way of ignoring the issue at hand, it was also her way of politely saying or suggesting to me that I was wrong, and that her theory if making life happy and loving was correct. \n\nShe flipped a few more pages within the album, each photo enticing a smile upon her face. She was in pure bliss, as I struggled within myself to scribble black crayon all over her happiness. \n\n“Mother, for the love of Christ, will you listen to me for once,” I yelled, catching myself off guard, as I hadn’t meant to be as loud as it came off.\n\nPulling her reading glasses from her face and placing them gently upon the photo album she turned to me to give me her full attention. \nSuddenly I was at lost for words. In all her haste to ignore me, I hadn’t really thought about what’d I’d actually say had she actually taken the time to listen.\n\n“So speak Katherine, let me hear you,” she stared at me intently.\n\n“Mother, the person I see in these photographs is not the person that I see in the mirror, I am not that little girl anymore. I am no longer myself, I am a shell of my former self, fighting to regain footing in the life of the soul that’s captured in those photographs. I’ve wanted you to hear me out for so long, but you’ve been so consumed on the old Katherine, rather than the woman I am today. I’m here mother, but I am fighting, and I have to be helped, and you have to stop denying my illness. Acknowledge me as I am today,” I fight back tears, unsure of what my mother could possibly say.\n\n“Katherine is this what this is all about, I too am not the person in these photographs, but the woman I look at daily in the mirror is more than a diagnosis, I’ve been trying to get you to see that, but you my dear have not been listening.”\n\nAnd with that she places her glasses back upon the bridge of her nose and continues to flip through the album.\n" ]	2
	[WP] When you dream, you are actually in an alternative universe. When you wake up, you disappear suddenly from the alternative universe. Write what happens in the alternative universe after you woke up.	[ "\"God dammit!\"\n\nThe feeble looking, glasses wearing, hunched over assistant that may or may not look like my boss exclaimed. \"We just name this guy King and he disappears!\"\n\nSure enough, there on the ground was the crown and sceptre of the king. He who fulfilled the prophecy diappeared just as suddenly as he had arrived.\n\n\"Well now what are we supposed to do?\" exclaimed the weaselly man. One of the bystanders looked down at the royal regalia. He had the orb that he was about to present to the new king, this was as good a chance as any.\n\n\"I will be your King\" He stated confidently as he reached for the sceptre and crown.\n\n\"Shut your face, stupid. You're not the one who threw the touchdown pass at the Superbowl after slaying the dragon and before sleeping with the supermodels of the prophecy.\" The weaselly man slapped the hand of the bystander-who-would-be-king, making him withdraw from the crown. \"Besides, I was his right hand man, clearly I should reign. At least until his return\"\n\nHe grabbed the crown, and moved to place it on his head. However, as he reached for the sceptre a small feminine hand snatched it up. \"As head supermodel of the Supermodels of Prophecy, I have been closer to the king than even you. Surely I shall hold the throne in his absence\"\n\n-------------\n\nThat is the legend told of that day. The start of the greatest war this nameless land had ever seen. Heros rose and fell in sequence. Supermodels slew weaselly men. Weaselly men slew bystanders. Bystanders slew supermodels. Armies crashed and clashed until there were none left. \n\nIn the chaos, the most ancient of dragons awoke, taking for himself lands and treasures. He eventually claimed the kingdom for his own.\n\nIt is said that one day the Dreamer will return to this world, and he shall slay the might dragon and his army of less mighty dragons. This hero of prophecy will seduce the armies of the Supermodels of Prophecy. He will defeat the champions of the bystanders in their own game. He will return, and he will unite these lands in peace once more.", "Samantha was looking at the guy that entered the lobby. He admired the Formica that covered almost every surface in the building with a wood texture and went towards the elevator, almost unseen in the same colors as the wall. For not having entered the building ever, he guided himself pretty well. Most newcomers had difficulties locating the elevator.\n\nHe pushed the button and the elevator went down.\n\nShe had more work to do, fiddling with her papers in the desk in front of the door. Working at Ctan wasn't easy, even for a lowly secretary, even at five in the morning. And then she realized that the man had left two backpacks, below the chairs intended for the people to wait. Was this a bombing? The man surely didn't seem suspicious. Actually, it felt as if he still went to school, what with the incipient beard and books in the bag that was open.\n\nShe stretched out the black long-sleeved shirt she was wearing above the white blouse and kept doing her thing.\n\nAfter a short visit, even shorter than what a \"Hello\" was expected to last, the guy came out from the wooden-looking elevator. The guy had to go up a very steep step, having the elevator stopped about half a meter below where it should have.\n\n\"Hey, is it okay if I drop these bags here for a little while? My mom will come later to pick them--\"\n\nThe man had disappeared. What had happened?\n\nShe went to the chairs and took the bags, to place them below her desk. And in doing so, she noticed that they were just regular schoolbags, no hidden threat of bombs.\n\nWhat had happened?\n\nAt least she had two new backpacks.\n\n----\n\nBased on a real dream I had, where I went to school (?), but I got lost before catching the bus and ended up at a company named Ctan (?) ten kilometers from what used to be my school (?) at five in the morning (?), and the buildings and all where below a bridge highway (?)." ]	2
	[WP] Superman is taking on a sidekick. You're allowed 30 words or less in your interview on why you should get the job.	[ "Daniel's sweat had left the chair a little bit humid. He was the next one. Superman wanted a new sidekick, and like many people his age, he had applied. And now he was about to be called.\n\nThe person that had come before him exited the room where the living legend was conducting the hiring himself. And now it was his turn. All his life he had been training for this moment. Even before Superman had even conceived this process to hiring a sidekick, he was already training to become a superhero.\n\nAnd now Superman was in front of him, asking him to tell the myth made man in thirty words or less why he should be taken in.\n\nThe world was spinning around him. He was starting to feel sick, but he regained composure and started talking, with a resolution he didn't know he had hidden inside him.\n\n\"I'm the best around. Nothing's gonna ever keep me down. Fight till I drop, never stop, I can't give up till I win sometime...\"\n\nAnd so, Superman and The Karate Kid helped make the world a better place." ]	1
	[WP] you've just been given the death penalty for a crime you didn't commit. The judge and jury are all staring you right in the face. What happens next? What do you say?	[ "I look into each and every one of their faces, every one of these jury members who had condemned me to my fate. I made sure to meet their gaze, although some couldn't hold it and instead looked away. \n\nThe honourable Judge Christopher Douglass held my gaze the longest, before banging the gavel, \"Cathrine Golden, you will now be transported by the Department of Corrections to serve your sentence.\"\n\nEveryone began talking at once, some people applauding. But in general it was the noise of the conclusion of this farce. All of these people would go free, while I was being taken to bide my time until the lethal injection. I smiled wryly at the futility of it all.\n\nAs the men stepped forward to take me away, I stood on my own accord, \"Wait.\"\n\nThe noise stopped immediately, everyone stopping what they were doing.\n\n\"Can I say something before I leave?\" I looked back up at the Judge. \n\nHe nodded, narrowing his eyes.\n\nI stood proudly, \"My plea remains the same, I have no blood on my hands. I go to this end without sin on my conscience. But the same can't be said for any one of you who pronounce me guilty.\" I met their gaze again, fewer of them were willing to hold it.\n\nI turned around to face the people watching, \"Today you all have witnessed a miscarriage of justice here. Go home and thank whichever God or lucky star you wish to that you are not in my place. That is all.\" \n\nI bowed my head and clasped my hands behind me. I never thought my time on Earth would end this way, but I walked toward my termination with a bravado I didn't entirely feel within. \n\nThe only thing I was certain of was my innocence, and that was enough for me to face my death without fear.", "\"There has to be a scapegoat.\"\n\nThat's what I said, a single sentence spat in spite to a courtroom of people who all knew just how innocent I was and couldn't - wouldn't do a thing about it.\n\nThey knew it wasn't me who had circled those women and children, herding them like cattle into a tight ring of fear and then committing the gravest of sins against them. \n\nThe jury knew it hadn't been me that had raped and murdered the innocent families of burned out villages and ashen cities.\n\nBut they didn't care. No one did. Someone had to hang. The papers cried out for it, the public demanded it. There has to be justice.\n\nThey couldn't blame the real criminals, those men we called our armed forces who had acted like animals. Butchery, sadism, rape and torture. It had a fancy name now. They called it PTSD. \n\nThey couldn't blame the generals, who'd ordered which villages were attacked and labelled the innocents who lived in them terrorists. \n\nThey couldn't even blame the oil companies, who had more to gain from the crimes than anyone else. \n\nSo they blamed me. \n\nTypical, I thought. They'd lauded me, loved me, approved me and adored me.\n\nHell, they'd even voted for me.\n\nThere always has to be a scapegoat, I repeated to myself. I was led away in chains, cameras flashing and people jeering from the stands, my suit and my servicemen all tattered and downtrodden. \n\nThe blame has to fall somewhere. \n\nBut when I had reached the top. I thought I would have been immune.\n\nWho'd have thought the president would have to die. " ]	2
	[WP] A shape-shifter can assume the appearance and voice of anyone whose legal, state-issued ID they possess. Must have the ID on their person in order to become that person.	[ "She woke up again that morning satisfied that she had finally found her personal heaven on Earth. She had not completed her mission and was therefore stuck on Earth forever but had kept her ability to shapeshift. \n\nShe was not really in fact a \"she\" but had taken the form of a female. Her name was Samantha as her state issued Californian driving license proclaimed but the messages that $%^& had read on her phone said she was usually referred to as \"Sam\" for short. $%^& had not even thought about staying on earth before she had became Sam. Sam was a middling heighted brunette lady with a soft voice but rotten soul. Sam's husband was the reason $%^& had stayed, as love wasn't something they had on her home planet. $%^& didn't even have the ability to feel before; just the cold hard ability to process the logic she was presented with. Love to her was just another illogicity to go with the other ones like fear and jealousy. But once $%^& had experienced love she didn't want to stop experiencing it.\n\nShe woke up feeling cold. Someone had taken the sheets. Where was he? Had he gone downstairs? $%^& got up to go to the bathroom and saw him there on the floor, cold and dead wrapped in sheets with a note left beside him saying \"We've found you $%^&. Let us return logic to you.\"\n\nThe ID she had so faithfully clung to for these 3 years was pointless. \"Despite how much you may hate your identity it will always be there with you\" thought $%^&. She kissed him one last time on the cheek and placed in his hand the ID of who she thought she was. Without the ability to breathe she died, staying where she wanted to be, in love, forever.\n\n\nEDIT: Grammar and Spelling", "\"Please, take a seat. Tell me a bit about yourself.\"\n\n\"There is not really much to tell. I am a bouncer at a local bar. The hours are kind of tough and taking the piss out of some drunk can be fun but it gets old over time.\"\n\n\"Why don't you tell me why you are here?\"\n\n\"Oh that. Well the judge told me to come here. I was caught with a dozen or so stolen ID cards.\"\n\n\"And?\"\n\n\"Well I mean that is not normal so it does not matter who I am. You see stolen ID cards and now I need to answer these questions.\"\n\n\"How did you get them?\"\n\n\"I told you, I work as I bouncer. I pick a youngish looking kid, told them their ID didn't scan, tell them their ID is a fake, pocket the ID, and tell the kid to fuck off. I actually found two real fakes doing this.\"\n\n\"Why would you do that? Were you selling them?\"\n\n\"Well sometimes it is just easier to be someone else. I mean, I am in a cell now right? But if I was not me you couldn't hold me.\"\n\n\"Well an ID does not just make you someone else. You still have to be accountable for your actions.\"\n\n\"Let me see your ID, I bet I can convince you otherwise.\"" ]	2
	[WP] "Man, it is too damn hot."	[ "David could see the town coming up on the horizon. The city-state of Sidney, in the western part of the Nebraska. The Captain at the military checkpoint many miles south wasn't lying. It really was here. He found a trade caravan heading that way, and hopped on. He was planning on forgetting them as soon as he found some semblance of regional government.\n\nHe looked up at the wooden walls the size of two persons. The walls were on the southern side of town, but a walking distance away. Soldiers lined the tops of the walls, armed with rifles. Some looked through binoculars, some took a drink, some ate, some chatted.\n\nThe caravan came to a stop and the man driving wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. \"Welcome to Sidney, son,\" he said. \"In case ye wanna stay with us, ask where the El-Baz Caravan's at.\" He braced against the wooden planks and jumped out. David followed.\n\nEl-Baz watched David walk down the street. \"How much words did he say?\"\n\n\"About none,\" one woman said. \"Strange.\"\n\n\"I seen stranger,\" El-Baz said with a spit to the ground.\n\n--------------\n\nDavid stopped before a large, intricately-designed, white, house. A few armed people strolled around outside. None of them looked particularly angry. Looking at the wooden, double-wide, front door, he saw the shimmers from the heat. The sun hadn't been very forgiving this far east. When he started travelling east, he soon found out why local populations called this land The Great Desert.\n\nDavid looked at the map of the town he had bought for one dollar. He was at the right spot to be at \"The Government Building.\" He started walking towards the front door, but a guard stopped him. \"Hey, does the Minister know you?\" he said.\n\n\"No. Is he in regional control here?\" David asked.\n\nThe guard looked somewhat dumbstruck. \"Local control. Still working on the regional part -- hey, who are you, exactly?\"\n\nDavid wiped his sweaty neck with a yellowing rag. \"I'm an ambassador from San-Fran. I came here to make contact with someone in the Nebraska.\"\n\n--------------\n\nThe Minister of Sidney greeted David with a smile, firm handshake, and a small glass of alcohol imported from Scottsbluff. \"So, David,\" he said. \"We've got a long talk ahead of us. What's on your mind?\"\n\n\"Man, it is too damn hot,\" David started.", "The canopy of trees shaded the little girl from the scorching sun, but it could do little to shield her from the searing heat. Nor could it protect her from the danger that she knew lurked in these woods. She peered over her shoulder to see if they were still chasing her. She imagined their snarling teeth poised to rip into her flesh.\n\nHer breathing quickened to a nearly unmanageable pace, whilst her heart pounded vigorously away. Her golden locks were dampened with sweat brought on by a combination of the sweltering summer air and the sudden shock of adrenaline.\n\nSeveral meters away, the bears gazed from their den at the brazen child, who was still fleeing in a panic.\n\n\"Shall we continue to chase her, father?\" asked the littlest one.\n\n\"Nah. I don't think she'll be coming back here, anymore.\" he answered.\n\n\"Now, lets all go back inside and finish our porridge.\"\n\nHe lifted the spoon to his lips and took a sip.\n\n\"Man, it's too damn hot. I think we need to let it cool some more.\"\n", "\"Man, it is too damn hot.\"\n\nGreg looked up from his post, exhaustedly scanning the distance like he was waiting for something to come up over the horizon. He wiped the sweat from his brow and stared down at the little wet spots in the dirt where the beads of his perspiration were falling.\n\n\"I don't know what you expected out here, Greg, I really don't. Did you not read the details of the assignment before you took it?\" The question was posed by Dave, Greg's on-the-job trainer, who had been mentoring him on the ins and outs of his position for the last two and a half weeks.\n\n\"I dunno, I mean I just didn't think it would be this bad. The guys up at corporate made it sound like field work would be the tits, but nobody warned me there wouldn't be air conditioning.\"\n\nDave looked up from his work and rested both his hands on the handle of his pitchfork, watching Greg with the special mixture of pity and confusion with which one can only regard pampered city folk. \"Now Greg, I've worked with you these past couple weeks and I've seen what you can do, so I know you're not stupid. But what the hell kind of --\" He was interrupted by a hand clawing up at his leg from the fiery abyss at his feet. He grabbed his pitchfork and shoved the damned soul back into the lake. \"What the hell kind of air conditioning do you think is out there that could cool a place like this?\"\n\nGreg, who had been hunched over, panting from heat exhaustion, stood up straight and glared at his mentor. \"Well Dave, nobody told me I'd be out here right at the shore playing whack-a-mole with the souls of sinners!\"\n\nDave responded with a slight tinge of frustration creeping into his warm and patient delivery. \"A lake of fire for the eternal punishment of the damned is bound to run a little hot, Greg. This is hot business.\"\n\n\"Well yeah, but I thought it was for them. I thought they were supposed to be the ones burning, not us. I'm not damned, I just work here.\"\n\nDave stared at his pupil with a puzzled expression as he hunched over and gasped for any hint of moisture in the baked infernal air he was melodramatically sucking into his lungs. After a moment, he spoke up. \"I wish I knew what to tell you, Greg, really, I do. But you know some people just aren't cut out for this kind of work. No shame in that.\"\nGreg looked up to respond and saw a figure approaching from behind his instructor. \"Oh fuck.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"My old boss, he's coming over here.\"\n\nGeoff walked up and stood beside Dave, dirt crunching beneath his dress shoes and desperate expressions of thousands of burning souls reflecting off his jet-black sunglasses. \"Hey Greg, was just passing through the circle and thought I'd stop by to see how the new job's treatin' ya.\" \nHe smiled expectantly and ran his fingers around his waistline as he spoke, casually poking the excess material of his tucked-in shirt back down into his slacks. Greg was struggling to regain his composure after nearly dying of heat exhaustion and Geoff's plastic smile was slowly collapsing into sincere confusion.\n\n\"He's doing real well out here, actually.\" It was Dave who finally spoke. \"He's picking up on everything real fast. If I were you I'd have held on to this one, he's a real go-getter -- no takebacks!\" He gently patted Geoff on the shoulder and forced a laugh in an attempt to mend the awkwardness of the situation.\n\n\"Well alright, that's uhh, that's good to hear.\" Geoff awkwardly stared at Greg like he didn't know what to think of his behavior. Because he didn't. He unhooked one of his thumbs from his belt and wiped the freshly emerged beads of sweat off his forehead. \"Anyway, just wanted to stop by and say hi. I guess I'll let you guys get back to your work, it's too damn hot out here for me.\"", "Pam had spent years planning this trip. She had dreamt of seeing Europe ever since she had seen the Paris skyline in a school text book as a child. She spent hours examining the tiny details of the buildings. When she excitedly told her grandmother, nana Taylor, about all the gargoyles, nana Taylor had pointed out the difference between a gargoyle and a grotesque. This led to more hours staring at the picture figuring out which ones were which.\n\nNow she finally had saved up enough money to go. She spent countless hours on the internet finding a hotel in Amsterdam with a wonderful view of the canals, a tour guide in Paris that had the best review on Yelp and a flight between the UK and Spain that would allow her enough time to sleep but wouldn't lose her a day of the vacation to being stuck in airports. \n\nNow finally she stood with her husband in Rome, staring up at the Colosseum. She had never seen anything so grand in her life. The fact that something like this was possible without the aid of modern tools, the genius that went into the design and the labour that went into the construction. For the first time in her life she was in awe.\n\nSlowly she turned to her husband and with tears in her eyes cried \"just look at that Tim, the size of it, what do you think?\".\n\nHe pulled off his sunglasses and began polishing them on his polo shirt. \"Man, it is too damn hot\".", "Leon sat on a rock in his back yard, looking at grass that had slowly turned from a lush green to a dull brown after three weeks with no rain. It was only 10am, and already the sun beat down from yet another cloudless sky. A single fly buzzed lazily around his head, and even though he took a swipe at it, it was half-hearted at best.\n\nMan, it's too damn hot, he thought to himself.\n\nHe could hear the neighbors, splashing in the pool already. He shook his head. \n\nNice to know someone can beat this vile heat. \n\nHis wife had gone out earlier, with her two sisters. Not even a goodbye when they left, just their usual prattle with each other. Where they wanted to go, what they wanted to do. Leon knew what he wanted to do: absolutely nothing. Sure, he could get up and do something.... maybe stop by the neighbors and see if he could take a dip. They'd probably say no. They didn't like him very much. And he could go back inside, he supposed. Probably just as hot in there, though. And no breeze. At least there's that out here.\n\nLeon yawned.\n\nHe could feel himself drifting off to sleep. His eyes were already squinting in the bright glare of the sun, which made it a short distance for his eye lids to close completely. His mind drifted in the place between awake and asleep, that place where you're still semi-conscious but your body has faded away. No body meant he couldn't feel the heat. A lazy smile crossed his-\n\nGod dammit, he thought as he suddenly sat up. Of course his wife would choose that moment to come home. And her sisters were still with her, yammering away as they came home. Judging by the sound of it, they brought home something with them.\n\nWith an inward sigh, Leon got off his rock and stretched his muscles. The girls walked over to him, and his wife dropped the zebra at his feet. Leon licked his lips, smiled a the lionesses, and lowered his head to eat. " ]	5
What happens?	[WP] You're a low time mobster with 4 of your crew driving down a highway at midnight. You see the biggest mobster boss in town on the side of the road with a gun wound . He is calling for aid.	[ "Bit of swearing here, not sure if that's okay for this subreddit. Tell me if I've broken a rule and I'll edit.\n\n---\n\n“Figueroa! Wake up and tell the man. Say yes,” The fat oaf in the front said to me. Of course, by doing so he had woken me from my sleep, and brought me into whatever conversation he was having with Fanns. I had found that, although I was able to keep my arms crossed my chest, I was face down in my own lap like a man with 22 ribs. \n\n“Fuckin’ talkin’ like a nigger at a movie, Jon.” I jabbed, through the fabric of my pantleg. Jon turned his body toward me, his entire body, ‘cause a man like that can’t just turn his head without the attachments below shifting to get comfy. His eyes bulged from his sockets, black beads like ticks following my movement. \n\n“I’m your elder, you ain’t gonna be havin’ a mouth like that unless you want to make me slap it off y’fuckin’ face,” He said, eyelids seeming to recede past his slimy staring orbs. A second or two of uncomfortable silence went by before Fanns and Martie bursted out into laughter.\n\n“He’s really scared of you, Jon.” Fanns said, taking a hand off the wheel to wipe at his eye. \n\nI sat back in my seat, fully awake. Jon slapped me on the shoulder with the utmost delicacy a man his size could muster, his thin lips forming a smirk. “Swear to god I really am gonna fuckin’ kill you one of these days, kid. It’s not today, though, so unpucker.”\n\n“What the fuck?” Fanns chirped. “You see that? Look like a deer?” \n\nOf course, we were on city road. There weren’t any deers for miles, let alone forests. I leaned forward and looked past his shoulder. We all saw it. A squirming black silhouette about two shanties down from us. \n\nSomething in Fanns had decided that we should stop and look, even though he first suspected it of being a dead animal. He was always a bit too empathetic for where he was at. It became clear soon that we were better off stopping, anyway, because laying on the asphalt was Ernie Savino. \n\nAs we rolled to a stop, we heard Ernie grunt. Martie was out and around the car first, I was second, and Jon stayed in the car. We didn’t quite realize who it was until Fanns rolled him over, then recoiled in shock. It wasn’t until he started visibly shaking that Martie and I came from our observers posts and approached. \n\n“Holy fuckin’ A.” I said. \n\nA switch flicked in Martie’s head. “Oh fuck, Ernie?” \n\nHe was pale, like a scared child. His eyes were sunken and black, although not from being hit. It was clear he was on the edge of death. His eyes followed us, though, calculating our movements, staring expectedly.\n\nI looked up to Fanns, who had been looming over Ernie with a stare deader than his. \n\n“Get back in the car.” Fanns said. \n\nErnie clicked to life.\n\n“Don’t you fuckin’ leave me here, you shit.” He said. Then, recognition washed over his face. His eyes searched for Martie and I. “Your friend is about to do somethin’ stupid. You need to stop him.” \n\nFanns got back in the car, and Martie followed. I stayed on a knee next to Ernie. “Don’t leave me alone with him!” I screamed. The doors shut behind them, Martie’s more hesitantly. He stared at me, thousands of yards on his face. I heard the gears change. \n\nThe car puttered backwards, slow. The brights were turned on. I instinctively pivoted away. The crazy fucker was going to leave me there. He had hammered in his point clearly enough. I stood up, hands raised in defeat, and started toward the car again. \n\nI had almost gotten out of the way, when the tires squealed. ", "\"Oh shit! Jimmy, pull-over, that's Frank Bufalino!\" I shout, pointing at the supine man lying on the side of the road. A puddle of blood has formed around him and stained his expensive suit a deep red. \n\nAs the car comes to a stop, Nicky, Tony, and I open our doors and leap out. Nicky and Tony scan the rest of the block, drawing their revolvers surreptitiously. Frank, still conscious, begins to make noise. \n\n\"Please...help. Th-they shot me. Left me here to die. I can't go out like this.\" he says, gasping through mouthfuls of blood. Nicky and Tony exchange glances, having seen this kind of thing before. Frank is a dead man, no hospital in the city can plug all of those holes.\n\n\"Ok Frankie, we'll help ya out. Don't worry, pal.\" says Tony, approaching the dying man. As he walks, he draws a five-inch long switchblade from his back pocket. Frank's eyes go wide with fear, and then blank with understanding. \n\n\"Do it, you bastard. Put me out of my misery. Then, deliver this...please.\" says Frank, pulling a blood-soaked envelope from his inside pocket. \"Deliver it to the address on the front. Do not open it. The people there will know what to do. You will be rewarded.\" \n\n\"You got it, chief.\" says Tony, taking the envelope from Frank's hand. Nicky and I stand motionless, fully aware of what was coming. \n\nTony swings his knife-hand down, plunging the blade into Frank's neck. In a fluid motion, he then slides the blade across the man's neck, a fine mist of blood spurting into the cool night air. Frank gurgles for a moment, then goes silent. Tony wipes off his blade and puts it back in his pocket. \n\n\"Okay, now lets get the fuck out of here before someone sees us.\" says Nicky, walking back to the car. Jimmy has been sitting in the driver's seat this whole time, his mouth agape as he watched us handle the situation. \n\nAfter we get back in the car, I turn around and say to Tony, \"Envelope, please.\", extending my hand in anticipation. Tony hands it over. \n\n\"What are you gonna do with that, boss?\" he says, a frown playing across his face. \n\n\"What the fuck do you think I'm gonna do? I'm gonna open it. Whatever is inside, Frank thought it was pretty damn important. I intend to find out.\" I say, sensing Tony's insubordination. \n\n\"Going to disrespect a dead man's wishes like that? I don't think that's wise.\" says Tony. \n\n\"Look, Frank Bufalino was one of our biggest competitors in this area. His thugs have kept our business off the streets for years. You think I'm going to play nice just because the stupid bastard got swiss-cheesed? Come on Tony, you're smarter than that.\" I say, tearing the envelope apart and folding open its contents. \n\nIt is a list. A list of names. \n\n\"What does it say, Vinny?\" says Tony, clearly pissed off. \n\n\"It's a list of names...our names...addressed to the FBI...\" I say, slowly comprehending the situation. \"He was going to sell us out. Fucking Frank Bufalino had a deal with the Feds. This is big. This changes everything.\" \n\n\n \n", "Blackbird turned and spat over his shoulder. “There’s no denyin’ it,” he said, teeth clenched around a bent cigarette. “This is one weird fuckin’ night.”\n\nBig Tony chuckled and heaved Mort’s sagging frame back upright again. Blood oozed from a gash above his brow, covering most of his face by now in dirty red.\n\n“Mort Castigliano,” Blackbird said, shaking his head. “Mort fuckin’ Castigliano. You play cards? You a betting man?”\n\nMort stared up at this skinny accoster. This nobody. “Who the fuck are you,” he grunted, wincing at the pain in his side. “You one of Dom’s boys? I heard he likes little fuckin’ fairies like you.”\n\n“Aw, Morty,” Blackbird crooned, squatting down to eye level. He took a handkerchief from his pocket. “Here, you got some schmutz on your face.”\n\nMort jerked away but Big Tony held him tight in a sitting full nelson. Blackbird dabbed gently at the fresh blood on Mort’s temple. “Does your mother know where you are,” he chided. “‘Cause see, here’s what I can’t figure: the number one big fuckin’ honcho, boss-o-da-bosses, is out strolling down fuckin’ South Franklin Street at two fifteen in the morning. Now my boys here and I, we’re out cruisin’ in the Windsor, and we come across him stumblin’ like a fuckin’ mick down the alleyway here. \n\n“So I says as we pass him--didn’t I boys--I says: that stupid drunk motherfucker looks just like Mort Castigliano. Right? Did I not fuckin’ say that?”\n\nBig Tony nods and laughs with the others. “You said that,” they tell Blackbird.\n\n“I said that. So we turn around, flip the fuckin’ high-beams on and there you are, plain as day. We get our bats, we pile out; but you ain’t even got your boys with you. You got no one. And Morty--” Blackbird leaned in close, tugging at the hem of Mort’s blazer, “some bastard has shot you, Mort. Shot you right in your fuckin’ liver.” \n\n“The fuck do you want,” Mort growled. “Money? Take me to a Goddamn hospital. I’ll see you get twice what Dom pays you in a year.”\n\n“Money,” Blackbird repeated, taken aback. “Really Mort? Take a look at my fuckin’ car. Do you know what kind of car that is?” \n\nBlackbird waited.\n\n“Three times,” Mort hissed. “And I guarantee-- if I live, no one will come after you and your family.”\n\n“It is a nineteen fifty-nine Chrysler Windsor,” Blackbird continued, turning to gaze at the long black sedan. “The Golden Lion edition. That’s pretty far-out right? They only made ‘em for two years, fifty-nine and sixty. It’s got Goddamn golden lion emblems everywhere, on the doors, inside, on the valve covers-- you name it, they put a fuckin’ lion on it.”\n\n“Christ!” Mort yelled suddenly. “Name your fucking price!”\n\n“Mort-- That’s just what I’m saying,” Blackbird explained, turning back to the older man. “I know you don’t know me, but a man can make assumptions based on his surroundings, can he not? He can make inferences. What did Sherlock Holmes call it?”\n\n“Deductions,” Big Tony piped up.\n\n“Exactly,” Blackbird said, clapping his leather-gloved hands together. “Deductions. A man can look at another man, and he can deduce from his appearance that he is a banker, for example. Or that he cheats on his wife. Or perhaps that he carries himself like a man who’s just been plugged wit’ a forty-five.”\n\n“What is your fucking point?”\n\n“My point, Morty, is look at my fucking car,” Blackbird screamed suddenly. “It is a Goddamn Chrysler Windsor Golden Lion, nineteen fifty-fucking-nine! Do you think a man with a car like that needs your filthy fucking money?”\n\nIn one quick motion, Blackbird sprang at Mort, pulled a switchblade from his sleeve and separated the man’s neck with a forehand swing. Mort collapsed with a gurgling thud on the pavement as Big Tony scooted back, wiping red spray from his face. \n\n“Put him in the trunk,” Blackbird said, flicking the knife closed. “We’re taking him to Dom. Get ready for a fucking promotion like nothin’ you ever dreamed.” \n\nHe started to walk back to the car, then paused. “And Tony, wrap a coat around him or something. I don’t want blood in my fucking Windsor.”" ]	3
	[WP] A boy finds a gun that can only kill a person's soul.	[ "\"Relax. Put the gun down. Just take a breath and let me explain,\" implored Jack. \n\n\"I'm done with your bullshit,\" replied the intern. \n\nSenator Jack Hanniston didn't understand. He was meant to become President. He was told -- no, promised -- the Presidential seat in the upcoming election. A promise made by someone whose promises are always kept. Always. And now fate chooses for him to die at the hands of some random intern? \n\n\"Look, ah, kid...\" Jack would've used the boy's name. People love hearing their own names. A verbal trick that comes in handy when trying to convince people to do something they otherwise wouldn't. But the Senator didn't remember the interns name. In fact, he didn't recognize this guy at all. This was perfectly normal, though, thought Jack, who employed dozens if not at least a hundred people. It wasn't his business to learn their names. \n\n\"That's a strange looking weapon you've got there,\" continued Jack, who took a step back behind his desk. \"You sure it works? Doesn't look like it has any bullets...\"\n\n\"Oh, it works,\" snapped the intern. \"I've tested it on your guards. It doesn't need bullets. People just ... fall to the ground and never wake up. Not dead, but not exactly alive either. Like they've lost the will to live. No one will find me. No one will even understand why you don't just wake up.\" \n\nThe intern shoved shoved the desk aside, accidentally splashing the ground with an array of buttons, stickers, and fliers advertising Jack's Presidential bid. The young boy held the gun firm. The weapon was unlike anything Jack had ever seen. Its color was shiny black. Obsidian? No magazine release, either. That wasn't the strangest part of it. No, that would be the intricate markings on its muzzle, slide, and rear sight. \n\n\"Look, kid - I gave you a job, got you into politics, huh? I'm just trying to help people - you know, help America. Put the gun down, and I'll forget this ever happened,\" sputtered Jack. A lie. Several, actually. But hey, what can you do? Lies had gotten him to where he was today: on the cusp of the most powerful position in America. Maybe they'd get him out of this mess.\n\n\"I saw it,\" spat the intern. His face was red, his arm shaking. His grip on the gun grew tight and strained. He hoisted the weapon up, pointing it at the Senator's heart. \"All of it! Your ledger. Bank accounts. Emails. Everything. They show exactly what kind of 'people' you want to help. I know what you're up to. I won't let you do it.\"\n\nAh, thought Jack. The kid must be one of the computer wizards hired to gather dirt on political rivals. Guess someone down the chain of command didn't keep a close enough eye on this one. \n\nDamn.\n\n\"Goodbye, Jack,\" growled the intern. His finger pulled the trigger. The gun emitted a sighing, groaning noise - some sort of cosmic overlap of a thousand voices.\n\nJack shut his eyes, ready to meet his maker. \n\n...\n\nJack was unharmed. He blinked his eyes open.\n\n\"I don't understand,\" gulped the intern. \"It's... it's supposed to take your soul!\"\n\nJack smirked, stepped forward and elbowed his aggressor in the stomach. The intern fell over, gasping for air. \n\n\"Sorry, kid. I don't think I have one anymore.\" Jack took the weapon, pointed it down at the intern, and pulled the trigger.", "A box on the side of the road. No markings, just a simple black leather case. In it was a gun, and thirteen bullets. Of course, I couldn't count back then, I was 5 years old. I tried to show my dad. He was a hunter and had a bit of a gun collection. He didn't even look at me. Not until I cocked it. At that point he freaked out. Me being six, I almost couldn't pull the trigger. But in that moment of panic and fear I did. The bullet went through his head. \n\nHe didn't move. \n\nAnd then he went to his work. He's been like that for years. He just does his work. He never sleeps. He eats what he needs to, just the same simplistic stuff everyday. \n\nI've brought to a preacher. And it burned him upon touching it. You know what he said? He said it was cursed. That it was the devil's gun. That anyone who used it would fall to wrath and anger and go to hell.\n\nGuess what? He's fucking right.\n\nAll those stories about 45 colt being god's caliber? God doesn't fucking carry. The gun isn't a fun little plinker. But I only have twelve shots left.\n\nAnd right about now, you'll realize that my knife is in your gut. I learned how to get it in without causing pain or blood at first. But then you breathe. And then it's all over. Have a nice night." ]	2
	[WP] Everyone is born deaf except for a few rare individuals. As one of the deaf, describe what its like seeing one of the hearing for the first time.	[ "\"I was here, seated in the hallway while I had my IV in. A man burst from one of the rooms wearing a gown. I was shocked, and must have gasped or something. There was no way he could have seen me, but when I gasped he turned around really fast and stared right at me, as though he knew I was there... without having seen me.\" My signing was a little frantic as I was still shocked at what I had seen. \"His mouth moved as described in fairly tails. I could swear he was talking. He waited a few seconds staring at me, then moved his mouth again. I signed asking if he needed help, but he looked at my hands in horror and opened his mouth again and ran.\"\n\nThe nurse nodded understanding, \"well you can't honestly be certain that he heard you, or talked.\" He smiled and patted my arm, \"he probably saw you from the corner of his eye when he came out of his room.\"\n\n\"No, no. He turned as though surprised, and only after I gasped.\" I attempted to gasp again as an example, but wasn't sure I did it right since no one could hear it.\n\nThe nurse looked a little concerned now and picked up his SMS and typed a message. When he finished he put it back in his pocket and signed \"well, everything is fine now. Nothing to worry about. I know we said you were cleared but I just got a message saying there was actually one final test to perform on you before you are cleared.\"\n\nI backed away but the nurse hopped forward and grabbed my arm. I started to wave my arms about trying to gain someone's attention, but no one was nearby. Two men came in to view from around the corner and I started to wave, frantically, with my free hand. They stopped and looked surprised, then looked to the nurse. My eyes followed theirs and I saw the nurse nod toward me. They nodded back and began advancing. They approached on either side of me and took both arms in a double grip, silencing me, and began to drag me away.\n\nThe nurse still looked concerned and signed \"you should have lied about seeing the man who could hear, I'm sorry.\" I forced air from my lungs. Hopefully I was making a sound for the man to hear, and maybe help me.\n\n[First Draft, straight from brain to page. Version 1]", "First submission. Clearly using a throwaway cuz I get a wee bit nervous about posting stuff online! I'm not entirely sure if it stays on track. I wrote it quite quickly. \n\nLet me know what you think and suggest ways it could be better please. Thank you :) \n\n\n\nIt was probably about 1:30 in the afternoon when it happened, I was skulking out of a Starbucks with an embarrassingly large \"coffee\" and my hood pulled up against the cold. I was thinking about running away from work for the day. Down to the waterfront where I could escape from the stress of typing up inane shit I didn't believe in on my computer for someone I didn't care for.\n\nI had just stepped out to cross a road, staring at my phone, when someone grabbed my arm and yanked me hard. I narrowly missed a very fast, very yellow bus. \n\nI turned around to see who it was that had abused my poor elbow only to see an older man with blacked-out glasses and a long white cane. It seemed as though he was blind. Then how did he...Shock vibrated through my teeth. I could have sworn it just got colder. \n\nI had been told stories when I was a child, of an old race who could hear. I had also been told they had only lasted a few hundred years before being wiped out entirely. It's human nature to not like those who are different I guess.\n\nI, like supposedly everyone else on the planet, had been born without hearing. On the surface, this man had looked like the double whammy, lacking both hearing and sight. After ten of the longest seconds of my life I tried to make a noise. I'm not sure what it sounded like but it felt strained in my throat. The man looked slightly disturbed at the noise and tapped his cane toward me. \nI couldn't really help myself so I reached out to touch him. He started, probably not what he was expecting. \nI needed to communicate with this man. " ]	2
	[WP] Man finally travels back in time to the Cretaceous period to find that our perception of dinosaurs was almost completely wrong.	[ "\"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!\", screams Dr. Leventhal. \n\nThe khaki-clad bespectacled man is running through a thick tangle of leaves and branches, looking over his shoulder in terror. \n\n\"I think it's a dinosaur, sir! Or rather, it was a dinosaur!\" shouts Penelope. \n\nThe raven-haired research assistant keeps her eyes focused on the jungle floor, avoiding roots and other obstacles as she runs. \n\n\"Are you telling me that thing shape-shifted? That's imposs-\" says Dr. Leventhal, interrupted by thwacking sounds coming from above. \n\nDescending through the canopy is a winged blur. It is black, bulbous, and fast. It impacts the jungle floor thirty feet in front of the duo, sending up a rippling shock-wave of dirt and shattered wood. Penelope and Dr. Leventhal clumsily come to a halt within spitting distance of the creature.\n\nThe creature is a six-legged monstrosity. Dr. Leventhal struggles to comprehend how, thirty minutes ago, this creature had been a fairly standard specimen of Utahraptor. And then he sees it. In between the insect-like front and back legs are a withered, twisted pair of legs that are undoubtedly those of Utahraptor. \n\nIn addition to the new legs, the former Utahraptor had also grown a large set of wings, lost most of its flesh, and grown a thick, shiny exoskeleton. The creature now resembled a dinosaur that had been dipped in tar and rolled in bug-parts. \n\nDr. Leventhal vomits. The creature, sensing movement, swipes out with one of its arms. Penelope, having drawn her machete, counters the creature's attack, though the force of the impact sends her flying into the vomit-covered Dr. Leventhal. The creature lets out an injured wail and Penelope looks back to see that the her blade has become lodged in the chitinous exoskeleton. Then the creature begins rubbing against a tree, trying to dislodge the metallic thorn in its proverbial paw. Having bought them some time, Penelope grabs Dr. Leventhal and hoists him to his feet. She smacks the man and says,\n\n\"Come on, Jim! We have make it to the time gate before it closes! Do you wanna be stuck here with that thing?!\" \n\nDr. Leventhal stirs from his stupor and puts his safari hat back on his balding head, a serious look playing across his face. Soon, Penelope and Dr. Leventhal are running once again. As they approach the edge of the jungle, Dr. Leventhal excitedly shouts, \n\n\"We're almost there! I can't wait to tell everyone about this! We will have to re-write biology textbooks!\" \n\nThe duo bursts from the jungle, seeing the metal ring that houses the time gate. As they approach the energetic blue circle, the ground beneath them begins to shake. \n\nIn an instant, a leathery, spiked tentacle bursts from the ground, sending up a cloud of grass and soil. The tentacle whips toward the duo, wrapping wetly around Dr. Leventhal's left leg. As the spikes pierce his flesh, he lets out a scream. Then, the ground opens up further to reveal a twisted, gaping maw. Dr. Leventhal is being pulled toward it, his leg shredding as he tries to pull away. \n\nPenelope reaches for her machete, only to realize that she had left it lodged in the previous monstrosity's leg. By the time she can process that, Dr. Leventhal has been dragged screaming into the toothy mouth of the subterranean creature. His screams then become muffled as the creature closes its mouth. \n\nUnable to do anything else, Penelope forces herself to run to the time gate and leap into the wormhole. \n\n\n\n\n\n", "The dimensional rift bursts outward and gives way to an instantaneous rush of warm amber sunlight. Small embers of ionic plasma cling to the air and flicker away into the thick foliage that surrounds the bio-pad. Dr. Sommers and his team take deep breaths, filling their lungs with the purest air they've ever tasted. This wasn't only an expedition; this was a chance to form the first human settlement in the distant past, before the climatic onslaught of human industry.\n\nAs Dr. Sommers took his first steps off the pad, eager to survey his new home, his three other teammates shouted a flurry of warnings and exclamations. Turning over his left shoulder, Dr. Sommers came face-to-face with a large raptor; its inquisitive eyes scanning his, much like a chess-player scanning a board.\n\nBefore Dr. Sommers could raise an arm in defense, the curious creature cocked it's head and belted forth a sound that none of them could have possibly expected:\n\n\"'Sup.\"" ]	2
	[WP] You're having the most amazing dream of your life but realize that you are in a coma. A choice is made.	[ "Nothing but sun and sand and sparkling water as far as the eye can see. The beach is almost deserted... of course, I must remind myself, it is a Monday. Or is it Sunday? I guess we lose track of days when there's no schedule to stick to. I lay back down and am struck by the warmth of the softest sand sticking to my skin. Why does warmth feel so delicious and so foreign right now? When was the last time I made it to the beach, anyway? I think back, and find that all I can remember is the beach. How did I come to be lying in this place? I sit up. This beach isn't familiar to me. I start to panic, erupting from the everlasting peace of a moment ago. I spin on the spot, looking for my car, a friend, someone that might have brought me here. I've been laying here for heaven knows how long... \n\nI notice a pier at the very end of the beach. There is a little boy standing alone at the very end. \"What kind of parent...\" I think to myself, and start to sprint down the beach toward him, before the worst can happen. I fly. I'm so fast the world around me is a blur. I look down at my feet and I am hovering off the ground, propelled forward by an unknown force. Just as I realize that this is impossible, I fall from the air. I skid and slide from my momentum and the sand is no longer soft. I have scrapes from the rough sand. A hear a roll of distant thunder and the sky begins to darken. I stand up, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. Did I leap from a rock in my haste and not notice myself become briefly airborne? Just as I convince myself this must have been what happened, I glance back and see a boulder twenty feet back. I shake my head. Yes, that's what happened. I must have jumped. The sky brightens, and the sand becomes soft again. \n\nI glance up to the pier, only fifty yards away now, and see the boy has turned around, and is staring at me. He doesn't appear to be readying to jump, and he is far enough from the edge now that he shouldn't fall... I walk, more carefully now. He stares. Goodness. He can't be more than five. We look into each other's eyes as I make my way up the beach and down the pier to him, slowly. I expose my hands, and bend over slightly as I approach him. Stop it, he's not a dog, I tell myself as I abruptly straighten up. \n\n\"Hello...\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he says, face splitting into the most angelic smile. \n\nI stop ten feet away from him. Now that I am here, I don't want to get any closer. He has the most bizarre appearance. His skin is very light, tinged with pink. He almost glows. His eyes are blue, and his hair is black. But he does not have the demeanor of a child. He holds himself straight, hands in his pockets, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. \"Yes, \" he says again, still grinning. Begging me to ask the question. \n\n\"I'm sorry... Where .... are your parents?\" It was not the question I intended to ask. But his manner was arresting, seeming in total control of the situation, while I was reeling. I wanted to appear ready to help him. Not that I needed help. \n\n\"How did you come to be here?\" he asks me, head tilting forward slightly to observe me more carefully through the thickest, darkest eyelashes I'd ever seen. \n\nI don't know how I came to be here. And what child talks that way? \n\n\"It's because I'm not a child,\" he says, startling me. Did I think out loud? \n\n\"No, \" he steps toward me and I step back. Realizing I am alarmed, he stops where he stands. The sky begins to darken again and he looks behind him and frowns. \"Do I scare you? Do I seem odd?\" \n\n\"Yes!\" I blurt. \"What are you?!\" Tears begin to fall as the rain does. \n\n\"No...\" he seems distraught that I am upset. \"You have dealt with enough fear. Please do not fear me. I am here to explain to you.\"\n\n\"Explain what?! How did I get here? This isn't anywhere I know! What country is this? Who the fuck are you?\"\n\nHe cringes at my language. \"Please don't. What is the last thing you remember?\" \n\nI bend over, hands on my knees as the rain beats my back. I steal a glance up at him, and find him standing right in front of me. Close enough to touch. He is dry. This somehow calms me. I realize I am not experiencing anything Earthly. And this child does not want to harm me... he is here to explain...what? \n\n\"I don't. I don't remember anything.\"\n\n\"As I thought. How do you feel? Do you like this place?\"\n\n\"This place? What is it? I wish it would stop raining! But I think I want to go home …Am I dead?!\" It seems the obvious question. My grandfather used to ask it whenever my grandmother made a particularly good pie. He used to call me Beetle. I miss him so much.\n\n\"No. You aren't dead. But you think you want to be.\" \n\n\"You think.. what?\"\n\n\"That's why you're here, love.\"\n\n\"I don't want to be here. I want to leave!\" \n\n\"And that is the problem, and also why you are here. You desire perfection. Sunlight, ease, and delight for always. But that is not being alive. You chose to end your life. But your body said ‘No’. It works to bring you back, even as we speak now. It works to mend the damages you inflicted. Do you remember?”\n\n“Damages…” I do remember. I remember writing a letter, and the bitter taste as I sealed the envelope. I remember getting into my old truck in the garage, the one my grandfather drove to work every day, turning it on, and sitting back, breathing deeply. I remember the familiar smell of the exhaust, stronger now than ever before. That is all I remember.\n\n“Why did you do that?” he asks me. His face is sad now, and I know that he saw in his mind’s eye what exists only in my clouded memory. \n\n“I don’t know. Things were hard. I couldn’t get back up. I was alone…”\n\n“Then who was the letter for?”\n\nHis question, and the message implied within it, bring me up short. “My mother.”\n\n“Then you were not alone,” he says simply. “But you are very alone now. And you cannot stay here. This place is here only for you, and we only have moments left. I am trying to show you something, before it is too late.”\n\n“What?”\n\n“That perfection is a dream. This place… the perfection of it… it only lasted until you stood up and noticed that it was not perfect at all. It made you feel scared, and confused. As soon as you notice the imperfections, the clouds appear, and the rain falls, and you want to leave. How is this unlike your life?”\n\nI look at him silently. \n\n“It isn’t. There is sunlight and darkness in life, just as it is here. But wouldn’t you like the sunlight to remain? It can’t, if you snuff it out. You do that every day. You have to brave the storms for the sun to shine again.” \n\n“So what do I do?”\n\n“You can decide that you made the right choice, and that the darkness is too much for you to bear. And you can jump.” He looks at the end of the pier for a long time. “Or... You can tell me right now that the sunlight is worth the rain, and you can go back. But I’m going to warn you, that because of what you did, the darkness is going to stay for a long time. You will have to explain it, and listen to the tears, and the ‘I don’t understands’, and the ‘I can’ts’ that your body will scream to you every day. But I can tell you that it will get better. The rain will stop, and the sunlight will appear. Are you brave enough to face it, or would you rather jump?”\n\nI walk to the end of the pier and look down. It’s not so very far. I can’t bear explaining to my mother what happened, and why I did what I did. \n\n“What happens if I jump?”\n\n“You die.” \n\n“What does that mean?”\n\n“That I cannot tell you.”\n\nWe stare down into the abyss for what feels like hours. My mind refuses to move me in either direction, and just remains blank. \n\n“Our time is up here. Do you want to go back, or do you want to die?” \n\n“I… Can I see my mother?”\n\n“No,” he says, almost coldly. “She is alive. You cannot see the living unless you count yourself among them.”\n\nI start to cry. \n\n“This is not a difficult decision. Buck up, little Beetle.” \n\nBeetle… ? I spin around and he is gone. “No! I want to go back! Grandpa, I don’t want to be dead anymore!” I collapse on the pier, leaning over the edge, salty tears falling into the churning water below. “I want to go back,” I moan. \n\n………………………………………………\n\n\n“Mrs. Harmon…. June…She’s waking….”\n\n“WHAT?! SARAH! HANNAH! SHE’S WAKING!”\n\n“Shhh…. Please. This is going to be very disorienting for her. She’ll have a lot of questions.”\n", "Flashing lights, a pain in my side and a feeling that I'm falling. \n \nFor a moment I'm confused, but then I realize I must have fallen from the climbing frame - I always have trouble with the monkey bars. I pull myself up, dusting woodchips from my knees and see Emily there laughing at me. \n \n\"Well you try then!\" I tease, crossing my hands across my chest. She just sticks out her tongue at me and runs over to the slide. \n \n\"Weird\", I think to myself. \"It feels like I haven't seen her in ages.\" \n \nThe thought only hits me for a second, and then I'm scrambling up the climbing frame again, trying to beat her to the slide. \n \n\"You'll never catch me, I'm the gingerbread man!\" Emily screams, giggling as she runs just out of my reach. \"Come on! You're s'posed to be the big sister\" \n \nOf course I catch her in the end, wrapping my hands around her tiny little waist and squeezing her tight. \n \n\"Okay this time I WILL do the monkey bars.\" I say, I have to prove her wrong. \n \nOne bar, two bars, three bars.. I feel my hands slipping... bar four and I'm on the floor. The pain from earlier is coming back. I can hear someone making ambulance noises. \n \n\"She's coming back!\" I hear an unfamiliar voice say. \n \n\"Madam can you hear me?\" He continues. \"You've been in a car crash. You've had too much to drink. Madam, listen, stay with me.\" \n \nI try to call out to Emily. \n \n\"Emily?\" He continues, \"Is that your name?\" \n \nIt isn't. I can see her now, 20 years ago, her little body curled up in that big bed. Mummy crying, Daddy shouting. And me not yet aware that I had lost her forever.\n \nI'm back in the playground. Emily is laughing again at me on the floor. \n \n\"Your turn this time!\" I say, \"You must be better at it by now!\"", "The top keeps spinning. I know what it means. If I walked down the stairs they'd be endless. They would lead me directly to bliss. A life of ecstasy is but a few short steps away. \n\nYou have responsibilities. You need to take care of your family. Your son. Your real son. Not the, pride of your life, imagined one. Your mother, she was in the hospital for her heart just last year. She needs you to come back. \n\nBut how can I leave? What makes my corporeal existence more real than this one? Why go back to the pain? Why go back to an ex-wife that hates me? Why go back to a kid that loathes my every attempt to connect with him? Why go back to a dead end job? \n\nI'm happy here. For the first time in my fucking life. I am happy. \n\nJesus Christ, these people aren't even real! Why am I considering a fantasy as if it means something? These things surrounding me are empty shells of my imagination, right? \n\nBut they make me happier than the real ones. That matters, right? \n\nSo, you've decided then? You're staying here? Spending your final moments here before they unplug you? Is your breath getting shorter already or is it the journey down these stairs that's clutching at your throat? It's time to wake up. You've had your fun. It's time to wake up. \n", "Karen begins serving the food. She is an amazing cook, but often refuses to make dinner unless I help. \"A role created by the patriarchy,\" she says jokingly. Since we met in our last year of college, she has always pushed me to try new things. While she is a master in the kitchen, I myself have learned a thing or two. Tonight she made stuffed bell peppers. I feel the outline of the small ring box through my pants. There is no one in the world I'd rather be with for the rest of my life.\n\n[beep, beep, beep, beep]\n\nShe bursts into the room, weeping. I panic, and plead, \"what's wrong, what's wrong?\" but she begins to laugh. Her smile betrays her tears. She holds a small, white piece of plastic with a pink plus sign on it. I'm a father. We had been trying for years, since we were married, but had no success. Finally, after years of frustration, we could start our new family. I have never been happier in my life.\n\n[beep, beep, beep, beep. No change in your son's condition I'm afraid. beep, beep, beep]\n\nTara is wearing her purple jacket and ribbons to match in her hair. She spent the better part of last night and this morning picking out her outfit for the first day of school. Like her mother, she wants to learn. Though it's just shapes and numbers, first grade is a whole new world to her. The bus comes around the corner; Tara smiles a big grin that is missing just a few baby teeth. She climbs up the steps, finds a seat by a window, and waves to her us. Karen has tears of joy in her eyes again. I grab her hand, and everything is as it should be.\n\n[beep, beep, beep, beep. It has been seven years ma'am! It is time to start discussing other options! beep, beep, beep, beep.]\n\nA man is sitting in my living room. He begins to eye the family portraits and photos of family vacations on the wall. My hair is greyer now than in the pictures, and wiser as well. This young man, a boy even, has fallen for my young girl. He asks the question I know is coming, \"May I have your daughter's hand?\" I decline. He smiles. He expects as much. He swears he will prove to me that he will wait until I believe in their love. I cannot help but admire his conviction.\n\n[beep, beep, beep. This is for the best, truly. There's nothing left of your son ma'am. beep, beep, beep.]\n\nTonight I have decided to give away my most precious thing in the world; my only daughter. Karen hasn't stopped crying all day, but I have come to love the tears of joy that punctuate the greatest moments in my life. Even as we grow older, she is my sole purpose. The ceremony is about to begin. [beep] I see the young man who once sat in my living room at the alter. He does not appear shaken or even nervous. His eyes are stalwart, as his mouth has turned to a smile. [beep] The music begins to play. Tara clutches the crux of my arm, flashes a smile, and we begin to walk down the aisle. [beep] My chest grows tight. Wedding jitters. [...beep] As we reach the alter, the priest asks, \"who gives this woman away?\" [...beep...] My mouth won't form the words, \"Her mother and I,\" and my chest grows cold. I can't breathe. I fall to my knees. [........beep.......] Karen is at my side now. Why are my limbs so heavy?! I see those famous tears again, but this time there is not joy in them. I don't want to leave! Don't make me go please! I can't...I can't... [...]\n\n[He's gone. He went peacefully, and didn't feel any pain. We'll leave you alone for a few minutes together. Take your time ma'am.]" ]	4
	[WP] Spending millennia collecting his dream team of lawyers, Satan meets up with the underwhelming legal team God has in heaven to discuss his pending defamation of character suit.	[ "“Let's get started,” boomed the voice from the mass of storm clouds.\n\t\nThe collected herd of lawyers nervously glanced around, eyes flitting back and forth the two figures facing each other at the conference table. Across from the clouds was a well dressed gentlemen with porcelain skin and hair, sporting a dark red suit and a small handkerchief adorned with two small broken wings. \n\n“Oh, by all means, let's begin,” Lucifer responded, hands idly twisting his handkerchief. The mass of of lawyers shuffled to their seats, holding between them a vast array of legal notebooks, binders, pens, and very official looking documents, all of which reeked slightly of brimstone. Once they were all suited, one of them rose again to his feet, glanced at a paper, and spoke:\n\n“Eddie Barzoon, counsel. The following is our a summary of our complaint.\n\nTo God, also known as Jesus, the Holy Spirit, Jehovah, and Yahweh:\n\nYou are hereby notified that a complaint against you has been filed in the Celestial Court, 4th Circuit, by our client Lucifer, as known as Satan, and the Light Bringer.\n\nWe state that you have conspired to defame the reputation of our client by informing mortals that he is the source of all evil, ruler of the Earth, and the bringer of darkness. Furthermore, you have engaged in child-like name calling, referring to our client by such petulant names as the Devil, the Prince of Lies, and the Son of perdition. We further state that this defamation is related to the unlawful termination of our client for asking for a day off. We shall be bringing another suit regarding that matter promptly. All we are asking for is a public apology, given through one of your mortal mouth pieces. \n\nHere is the relevant paper work, Mr... Uh, who are you again?” Breaking his speech for the first time, Mr. Barzoon looked at his opponent, an acne ridden youth poorly clad in a misshapen suit. \n\n“Uh, I'm Bobby Woodside. Uh, I mean Mr. Woodside, sir. I mean Mr. Barzoon.”\n\n“And you're the defendant's counsel?” scoffed Mr. Barzoon, an incredulous look on his face. \n\n“Well, not quite 'counsel'. You see, I was on my way to the bar exam, when I saw a lady who needed help crossing the street. So I was helping her out, and, uh, kinda got hit by a truck,” muttered Bobby, idly running his hands through his hair.\n\nLucifer snorted, little puffs of sulfur whisping out of his nose. \n\n“THIS is the best you could do? All of the lawyers, you have stashed up their, Atticus Finch, Balthazar, Henery Drummond, and the best you can do is a law student? Unbelievable.” \n\n“Oh, but I don't have them up there,” chuckled the thundercloud.\n\n“What the hell are you talking about? I sure don't have them with me.”\n\n“Oh, didn't you get the memo that got sent around this morning? All lawyers are being transferred to Zeus’s control. He mentioned something about needing a replacement for the Harpies, so we worked something out. I'm surprised you haven't already sent your team over.”\n\n“WHAT? You can't do that! Zeus! Are you fucking with me? He hasn't been relevant since 500 fucking BC! You!” Lucifer screamed, pointing a finger at one of the terror-stricken lawyers, “Is this true?”\n\nFrantically sorting through the mass of papers they had brought with them, the sweating layer finally pulled out a paper that was adorned with tiny lighting bolts. “Uh, it appears so. Sorry sir, but we're no longer working for you. Let's go, team.”\n\nAs the ranks of lawyers filed out of the room, off to their future of tormenting those who raised the wrath of the Greek gods, Lucifer's face was rapidly approaching the same color as the maroon suit he wore. \n\n“What kind of trick is this! I work for 6000 years to get the best possible team together, and you just send them off! Bullshit!”\n\nLaughter rumbled out from the thunderclouds.”\n\n“Sorry, but you should read your own mail more often. You know what they say, after all. The Devil is in the details.\"", "\"And so you can see that there is incontrovertible proof that I have been defamed,\" Satan shouted out to the courtroom.\n\nIt had been thousands of years. He had collected the souls of many over the millennia, and there was always plenty of lawyers. Only politicians and, to many people’s surprise, religious leaders, were more plentiful.\n\nHe looked at the legal team he had gathered. They were the best of the best. Even God knew that. After all, he had created them.\n\nSatan waited for the judge’s decision, but he was already confident he’d won the case. And so with his free time he reflected on the triumphant moment he had brought in his legal team, announcing that he would be making a defamation of character lawsuit.\n\n“That’s preposterous!” an angel shouted. “You can’t sue God!”\n\n“I can, and I am,” Satan giggled. He let out a chuckle with the last few words. That probably had pissed the big man off. “This has gone on for too long. God made me too, you know. And I never wanted to do all this evil, to be the one who watched over hell and caused trouble in people’s lives!”\n\nSatan stared at the stunned faces of God’s legal team, all who would be useless against his own team. God’s legal defense was lackluster, to say the least.\n\nAnd so, with God’s refusal to acknowledge Satan’s complaint, the suit was filed and Satan found himself in the courtroom, pondering over everything that had happened. He sat up as the judge strode out and took a seat. The verdict was already in. Satan’s team had clearly tore God’s legal team a new one, what with the verdict being decided in a matter of minutes.\n\nHe anxiously awaited the verdict, but the judge stayed silent. This was it. The end of being the evil one, the keeper of Hell. The truth of the matter was, Satan really just wanted to be an artist. He loved to paint pictures of anything, especially fire, and his favorite color just happened to be red as well. He played around with the horns on his head nervously as the judge began to speak.\n\n“The verdict is in Satan,” the judge began. “The court finds God not-guilty. The defamation case of Satan vs. God is now officially closed.”\n\n“What?” the devil shouted. “How? Corruption I say. Corruption. God was clearly at fault.”\n\nAll of a sudden Satan felt his eyes be blinded by the brightest light he had ever seen as the judge removed the hood that covered his face.\n\n“Do you forget, Satan, that I am the judge!” God’s voice echoed throughout the courtroom. “I have most certainly not defamed your character. I created you. I know exactly what your very inner being is.”\n\n“Exactly!” Satan yelled. He couldn’t see, but he could feel the fires of his anger burn around him. “You made me this way. You are the one who told me to guard Hell, to act as Satan. I was just following orders.”\n\n“I told you to do that,” God said, his voice deep and disturbingly comforting. “I never forced you. I think you’ll recognize plenty of souls that are yours in Hell who said something very similar to you. They were just following orders, right? For all the things you’ve done, how can you even begin to say such a thing? Till we meet again, Satan, goodbye, and go back to Hell!”\n\nAnd with that Satan opened his eyes, surrounded by flame and suffering souls. He looked at many a soul who had argued that they didn’t belong here, that they were just following orders. Satan had told them it didn’t matter. They had a choice. And now, for the first time, Satan no longer felt like the master of Hell, but a prisoner of it.\n\n-243" ]	2
	[WP] Write the witness statement of an inanimate object used in the committing of a crime	[ "I was alone. It was dark, but I'm used to that, that's how it always is at night. But last night was different. There was a scream from down the street. Then it happened. She turns the corner. She is trapped, no where to go. She let's out one last scream before it happened. She was shot. She got picked up. Tossed inside me. Only to lay there. Dead.", "All day long,I sit still. Bathing in the sunlight,very little friction ever comes my way;and what little friction I do get...it's always pleasant. Always full of life, I hear the children screaming and yelling. Shouting \"I'm going to get you!\" At each other,or \"no you're not!\" For a response.\n\nOf all the shape-shifting items in the world, I have it the best. If I get dirty, someone cleans me up. If they have people over,I enjoy making them happy. If it's gets cold, they cover me up. I have it made.\n\nWait!? What's this???who are these people??? What are they doing to my family!?!? No...no don't play with me, it's night time...let me sleep under the stars. Tommy, go back to the surface, you're not meant to be down here for so long...tommy. Tommy!!!!! Get up Tommy, move your hands, legs,feet,ANYTHING!\nI try to hold him,I surround myself around him. I will protect him now,until help comes around. Tommy was a good kid, so much life to live...I will make sure to tell the mortuary my side of the story,I will help tommy. Tomorrow. Right now, I just want to comfort him.\n\nHere Tommy,sleep on top of me...I'll be the best bed you have until help arrives.\n\nThe family,now comes down the stairs for breakfast. all smile and giggling,I don't want to break the bad news...but I have to. Help me out sky,I need your reflection.I need them to look outside with a good feeling. perhaps the last good feeling they will have.\n\nI hear the scream, and the mother comes running, falling to her knees at my side.the father, abruptly moves me out of the way, while I,forgiving,allowed him too. Question to be remained, and the sirens comes closer.\n\nHelp is on the way Tommy,I'll never forget you.\n\n\n(I'm on my phone at work, if I get enough up votes and or comments,I'll add onto and edit it)...should be easy to guess, but what am I?", "It started off with her screaming and yelling about how she wanted a divorce. She had good reason to honestly, I got to see him sleeping with the babysitter before she walked into the kitchen. I know, no extra, just the statement about what happened. Gotcha. \n\nWell she’s screaming and yelling and he got this look and grabbed a hold of me. Ugh, he started swinging me like he had no clue what he was doing. I don’t think he was used to the weight. I got covered in blood! Seriously covered! I’m sure there’s still some on me, it messed up my shininess. I know, no extra. Gotcha. \n\nWell he kept swinging long after she stopped screaming. He got covered too. Dropped me on the floor like I had bit him. Dented me a little. He took off and the next time I saw him, he was mopping stuff up and trying to hide the body. He washed me off and stuck me back like he hadn’t just bashed her brains in. Went back to hiding the body from what I could tell, wrapped it up and mopped up the blood, changed clothing. \n\nHe took off and I haven’t seen him in a while. ", "\"You're barkin' up the wrong tree here pal...I don't know nuttin' about that hit, swear it on my dear ma's grave. I'll tell you what though, whole thing's a damn shame. Jameson was a real stand-up guy, ya know...everyone loved him. Guy had enemies though, can't make it big in this town without makin' a couple a' those...trust me, I know. Jay wasn't the kind of guy to hold his tongue; fella had a hard time knowing when to shut his yap, get me? Only a matter of time before he pissed off the wrong guy.\"\n\n\"Please sir, we just need you to account for your whereabouts last night?\"\n\n\"My whereabouts?! I was at the Blue Moon Club all night, not that it's any a' your damn business! This is really insulting, you clowns draggin' me down here like some hood rat. I been servin' this community for 30 years and I think I've earned a little fuckin' respect! For the last time, I'm a legitimate entertainer and swing music enthusiast. Ask anyone else an' they'll tell ya' the same thing. Any more dumb questions, you can take em' up with my attorney. I'm late for a tuning appointment.\"\n\n\n-I'm a piano wire, used in a mob assassination." ]	4
	[WP]You've found the cure for Alzheimer's. Unfortunately, it's...	[ "His mouth was agape. \"This shouldn't be possible...\" The charts on the screen seemed nearly miraculous. The experiment had been repeated. Sure it turned all of neuroscience on it's ear, but it worked, every time. But Dr. Kindshauer sat there awed at the prospect of a cure. He rose to his feet and walked closer to the screen, as if the data might change if he changed his perspective. \"But the losses, are they permanent,\" He asked, fully realizing the answer to the come.\n\n\"Selective Neurological Triage Therapy causes—,\" One of the researchers started.\n\n\"Is the memory loss permanent,\" he adamantly interrupted.\n\nThe lead researcher, Dr. Woods, understood the question and sheepishly replied, \"Yes.\"\n\nFor a moment the air seemed thick with tension. The certainty of a cure for Alzheimer's was all at once as gratifying as it was abhorrent. The conference room at the CDC was deathly quiet. The holy grail of neuroscience was within the grasp of doctors and scientists everywhere, but the victory was the most pyrrhic of all. Complete loss of affected memory. There was no therapy, there was no recovery, just a portion of the brain so lost it was as if it never existed.\n\nKindshauer walked slowly walked back to his seat at the head of the conference table and slumped into his seat, the implications of the discovery weighing down his normally larger than life presence. He thought of all the review his teams had done. It was safe, effective, and repeatable. It had all the hallmarks of a miracle cure. One simple injection of a synthesized protein into the base of the skull could halt all progress of the disease within the week. \n\n\"How soon can the treatment be mass produced,\" Kindshauer slowly asked, realizing the implicit approval in the words.\n\n\"Given the FDAs involvement along all stages due to the testing requirements, we could have approval in two months and be at full scale production in six,\" a pharmaceutical executive replied, nearly wringing his hands at the prospect of the profits to be had.\n\nKindshauer knew the facts were too conclusive, and the costs to great not to move forward. He spoke his next words slowly. \"You have my approval.\" His thoughts briefly flashed to his wife at home; her being unable to remember him or their two daughters on her worst days. \"You have my complete approval.\"", "\"I took the pill... I remember now.\"\n\nWe had been working for nearly 5 years to develop the cure to Alzheimer's, and the day had finally arrived to start human testing. Our first patient, a elderly man by the name of James, nearly comatose from advanced Alzheimer's, was given a small dose of our most effective test formula and put in an observation room so the other researchers and I could examine his reaction. As the drug was administered through pill form, it took about 20 minutes to travel through the blood brain barrier and begin rebuilding neuronal pathways. Once it reached the brain, the reaction was immediate. James was originally in a seated position, slightly dazed, but as the drug took effect he jerked upright. As lead researcher, I felt it was my duty to be recording notes, and so I rushed into the observation room. Looking back on it now.... I only wish I had turned and ran the other way. \n\n\nUpon entering the room, I immediately noticed that james had become completely tense, almost as if having a seizure. I ran to the side of the bed to restrain him, but before I could make it, the spasm ended. I called for another researcher to help me administer a dose of a sedative before another seizure happened, but before he could get it, james grabbed me by the collar and pulled me close to him. Not wanting to hurt the old man, I let him pull me in, and told the other researcher to wait. When my ear was about 2 inches away, he whispered in a raspy, choked voice, \"Take it, you'll remember.\" This was the most james had said in 9 years, but I had no idea what he meant. Due to the amount of pain he seemed to be in, and the brain chemistry changes the drug was supposed to make, it seemed logical that the patient might not make any sense at first, or so I thought. \n\nAfter we put james under with a fairly strong sedative, I went back into one of the labs to study my data and think. I was puzzled about what james had said, but I dismissed it, and decided to look at the objective facts only. It had seemed exactly like the results of our animal trials, James' brain tissue that was damaged by Alzheimer's was rebuilt by the drug and seemed to act like normal. Now all that was left was to destroy the left over drug sample, as a new batch would be needed to continue testing. I took the remaining pill, and went to throw it down the......\n\n....I don't remember what happened after that, but since I woke up on the floor and the dose is missing, I have a good idea. Now I understand what james meant, but dear god I wish I didn't. I remember them, the experiments, the pain..... They took so many of us, and made us forget, just like a dream. Somehow, the drug took away the barrier they put up. I was horrified, and the memories of all the terrible things that happened caused me to writhe in agony. It was an assault on the senses, and after spending what seemed like a lifetime reliving being sawed into or prodded with a needle, I somehow regained composure. I felt changed, different, as if a growing desire was mounting in my brain.\n\n I knew what I had to do, and whether the world wanted to or not, they would remember what happened, just as james and I now do. This pill will make them remember. I remember. Oh god.....", "\"You're Lauren\" he said, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking very pleased with himself.\n\n\"That's right Dad\" I replied and gave him a hug. \n\nA month ago he would scream at me when I came in his room. Tell me to get out. Tell me I was stealing his money. Tell me I killed his wife. I was at a breaking point when Dr. Thorn called. He was setting up clinical trials for an experimental drug and Dad's profile had been flagged.\n\nAre you interested? He asked that and my jaw dropped. Of course I was interested. I had prayed every minute of every day for this call. It was a program that Dr. Thorn had developed. SG was what they named it.\n\nWithin a week they had Dad set up in the trial. The first week was in the hospital - lots of IVs and blood work. I didn't get to see him much, but honestly, I was relieved to get a break. \n\nWhen Dad came home his skin looked healthy, his eyes were clear and even though he didn't know me his disposition was better. Things just kept improving, day in and day out.\n\nThe routine is pretty simple. For breakfast Dad gets a shake made from the SG powder. He says it tastes like chocolate but personally I think it smells a little off.\n\nLunch is an SG bar and a glass of whole milk. Organic whole milk is best, but regular in a pinch.\n\nDinner is another bar, and whatever other foods Dad wants. He usually wants a hamburger or a steak. I asked about cholesterol but Dr. Thorn said it shouldn't be a problem.\n\nDuring his last check-up all of Dad's vitals were at levels he hadn't been at in 10 years. His brain activity was way up. Dr. Thorn said that was from his neurons reforming and firing. He said it's the same thing that happens in new borns.\n\nI asked him what was in the SG that worked such miracles. He told me not to worry - just proteins of various sorts. \"It's people food\" he said \"SG is people... food\"\n\n", "Dan laid there, clutching to cold hard porcelain. It’s the fifth time today and I’m getting dehydrated.\n\nDan is in disbelief that’s he’s been doing this for about 3 months now. Still not used to it. The fact that Dan can remember at all is a miracle.\n\nStill undecided if it’s better to let nature take its’ course because Dan’s pretty miserable now having to complete the ritual every day to retain his sanity. It’s been a struggle but Dan’s family needs him.\n\nThere was a knock on the door “Granddad … come play” a figure by the door commanded.\n\n“Just a minute Jacob. I’ll be out in a sec k bud?”\n\n“K … come here rocket! Hahaha” small footsteps trailed off.\n\nDan stood up and took 2 laxatives. Then continued chugging the gallon of milk he has sitting at the bathroom counter. 15 minutes and I’m done for the day. “My lactose intolerances is going to ‘love’ this.” Dan thought.\n\nOn the ground next to the toilet was a reminder of why Dan keeps the ritual every day. Cure to Alzheimer’s was induced diarrhea or vomiting.\n", "poison. Nobody believed the reports when they first came out, low doses of cyanide helped remedy and cure Alzheimer's in rats, then pigs, then in rhesus monkeys. When the product finally made its way into human testing there was backlash, millions of people came forward saying that it was wrong to be injecting poison into someone, especially someone who didn't understand what was happening. \n\nThings changed though, almost immediately we saw recovery in even the most ravaged of patients. They were coming back, intelligent, able to remember new ideas, eloquent. It was amazing. \n\nThen it all fell away, a report came from one of the labs that had been conducting the research on the rats. All of the rats that had participated in the testing were going crazy, they were losing their minds and attacking the other rats. Later that year a similar report came from the lab that had been testing on the pigs, they were acting more aggressive, growing tusks, eating their young. It was terrible.\n\nFor a long time we held out hope, the Rhesus monkeys hadn't shown any signs of aggression. They were monitored for years without any marked changes in their mental state as we had seen in the rats or any physical changes. We stopped being worried about the chemicals, it looked as if the changes in the pigs and rats were flukes. Perhaps something was slipped into their food by the Pro-Thought groups that had spread around the world.\n\nWe relaxed and an investigation was launched into the two laboratories. The silence was shattered as news agencies across the world began to release the news as it happened. People who had been given the drug were changing, they were getting younger and smarter, and they had a hatred for us. We tried to fight them in the beginning but the drugs had changed them, they were producing the chemical and excreting it everywhere. Everything they touched was contaminated, their sweat was poison, their urine gave off fumes that could kill us, their breath would knock people out. We broke and ran, we lost. Please, if you get this stay away, don't come back, they are all that's left. \n\nHouston out." ]	5
	[WP] Describe something harmless in the most hardcore/metal way possible.	[ "The women screamed like pinched harmonics at the sight of the thing that should not be. It’s fuzz the colour of a freshly smacked arse with no remorse. The feel of it against skin, sent shivers down my spine like anesthesia. It’s eyes seek and destroy my frayed ends of sanity. The blackened orbs of wolf and man, bleeding me, the astronomy of orion and a chromatic purple flare.\n\nThe wait, frantic as the unnamed feeling rises, a struggle within, like a creeping death. Suffocating as i’m trapped under Ice. I cry out unable to endure the whiplash, the battery, the lagomorph taking me to the frayed ends of sanity.\n\nSad but true, I give him one last caress. Unforgiven, the King of Nothing, I am no hero of the day. The Keeper's price has no remorse and Mamma said she would not pay. \n\n“You’re bleeding me!” my low mans lyric. The keeper, a harvester of sorrow held in his eyes no remorse.\n\nI made escape from the keeper’s store, a leper messiah but In my heart I’ll carry my friend of misery, a thorn within, like the god that failed. Until nothing else matters and only the memory remains.\n", "The mark of sharp teeth is that you feel no pain when you are bitten. The cut tears through your skin so quick that the nerves don't register any change. Your only chance of noticing the wounds these demons inflict on you is when you look down and see your own blood.\n\nTheir teeth are not their only weapons. They also poison you with their excrement and urine. They will not shed a tear at contaminating your water supply. Some will even come upon you in your sleep, and defecate on you while you're vulnerable.\n\nThey are silent as they are quick. You won't hear them coming. They are known to wait motionless for hours in shadows waiting for you. Then, when they see you, they can come sprinting out at over 35 mph and jump distances up to 10 feet. Good luck getting away.\n\nPerhaps most dangerous of all, they are partially nocturnal. These patient killers will be up long after the sun has gone down, and long after you're asleep. So if you're out at night, and alone, better take some carrots because bunnies will mess you up.\n\nTL;DR-Don't mess with bunnies dude.\n\nEdit: minor style stuff." ]	2
ITT: people having difficulty telling apart platonic love ans suppressed lust.	[WP]: Write the deepest, most passionate confession of platonic love	[ "\"I love you for you were, who you are, and who you will be. I trust in you and would follow you down any road no matter how fear my strike at me or how my mind my plead for me to leave. I love you, I love all of you. I love any sort of imperfection you think you posses and am sorry to say that I would never have them changed. I have no heart to give you for you stole it long ago. I wish you absolute joy and would battle you any of your foes. My love is pure I swear it! My love is honest and profound I would do any and all things for you. Speak the word it would be done!\"\n\nThe man was panting heavily just a few feet ahead of me with that shimmering knife wet with blood in his hand. He looked at me with a mesmerized glare giving no attention to the myriad of dead bodies that lay before him. He cleaved his way through everyone of my friends and family just as I was blowing out the candles of my cake.\n\n\"What would you have of me my love? Say it and it will be done!\" He screams with insanity. \"I love you more than Ares did Aphrodite or Romeo his Juliet! Give me something to do and it will be done!\"\n\nI feel my pants moisten as my bladder lets loose from profound fear. He had been going on for hours and I was too fearful to say anything. \"Kill yourself,\" I found myself saying. Within seconds the deed is done and I shriek in horror.\n\nhours later\n\n\"What a freak.\" Officer King murmured to a fellow detective. \n\n\"The man was obviously insane,\" the detective counters.\n\n\"Yeah, but he'd been stalking her and was absolutely obsessed with her. That poor girl's gonna need a lot of help to get over this.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" the detective murmurs in agreement, \"What an awful way to spend her fourth birthday.\" ", "I love the way you pull my pants down… from the ceiling fan after the party last night got out of hand\n\nYour eyes glisten in the soft flickering light of the camp fire as you tell me… “Bro, you’ve drank too much”\n\nYour hands feel so powerful when they rub my back… and I vomit up the dirty thirty of Natty Ice we chugged.\n\nI’ve never felt so secure when your arms wrap around me… and you hold me back from a fight, bro.\n\nI want this bromance to last forever. Until the stars fall from the sky and the sun burns out and all the other bros have packed up their coolers and gone home. Ours is the tailgate the never ends. Bros for life. Bros forever." ]	2
	[WP] The moment you die you wake up on the date of your earliest memory, to relive life again from that point on. You retain all of your experiences, memories and consciousness from the previous life.	[ "Darkness. Emptiness. Nothing. \n\nThen all of the sudden, light. \n\nI slowly open my eyes, the first thing I see is the light coming in through the large window on my left. \n\n\"Where am I?\" I think to myself.\n\nThen, slowly, I begin to make out my surroundings... and recognize them. It's my old childhood bedroom. Everything is as it was from when I was a child. From the placement of the bed at the far wall with the Victorian dresser facing opposite to it, to the red and green rose pattern of the window curtains, to my little sister's crib at the window with the Winnie the Pooh bed cover.\n\n\"It can't be...\" \n\nI immediately look at my hands, they are small and soft, nothing like my old large calloused. \n\nI look at my arms, they are small and lanky, not thick with muscle, fat, and scars.\n\nI look at my legs, they are short and smooth, not long and scarred.\n\nI look at my feet, they are small and fat, not large and narrow. \n\nI then slowly get up and head to the dresser mirror. I get up onto the chair and am taken back from what I see.\n\nInstead of looking into my usual dark brown eyes, I look into light, almost hazel, eyes. \n\nInstead of a solemn old face with dark brown hair that I'm used to, I see a young content face with light brown, almost blonde, hair.\n\nThat's when the memories of my old life flood into my brain. Everything from my very first day of school with Ms. Peterson to one of my last days on my death bed with my wife, Abigail. \n\nI then realized that life has given me a second chance at life... and I plan to use every bit of it. ", "“Whoa, what’s that, mommy?” I asked, but I knew the answer was “snow”. The word came to me right as she said it.\n\n“It’s snow, dear,” she smiled at me. I looked out of the window. I wanted to go play in it again. Again? I’ve never seen it before. She was telling me what snow was but I wasn’t listening. I saw myself walking out into it in the backyard, and not wanting to go. But why? It looked so cool.\n\n“Alan? Did you hear me?” I turned back to my mom in a daze. “Do you want to go outside and play in it?”\n\nI nodded my head, but I didn’t want to play in it. I was scared of the snow\n\nI followed my mom down the hallway to the mudroom. Right as I reached the doorway, I stopped suddenly. Sammy, no!! I thought.\n\nMy dog Sammy ran out of the mudroom and almost knocked me down. But he DID knock me down. He knocked me down last time. But not this time. This time I knew he was going to knock me down near the mudroom, so I stopped. It happened before!\n\n“I don’t wanna go play in the snow.” \n\n“It’ll be okay, hon.” Mom said as she bundled me up in a thick jacket, gloves, and hat.\n\n“No mommy. I’m scared.”\n\n“It’s just snow. It’s not going to hurt you.” \n\nShe pushed me out of the back door. I started to cry. “I don’t want to go outside!” I screamed as I turned back towards the house. “Sammy’s gonna…”\n\nSammy ran out of the house and right into me. He knocked me back into the patio frame and I fell on my back. The patio shook and I saw these things fall, I think it was glass. It was sharp, and pointy There were a bunch of them hanging from the patio, but I didn’t know what they were called. A bunch of them broke loose one of them hit me right in the eye. It only hurt for a second.\n\nWhen I could see again, I was sitting on my bed looking out of the window into the back yard.\n\n“Whoa, what’s that, mommy?” I asked, but I knew the answer was “snow”. The word came to me right as she said it.\n\n“It’s snow, dear,” she smiled at me." ]	2
	[WP] A sociopath has been given an experimental drug designed to grant him a sense of empathy. He is just beginning to feel the effects.	[ "He had gotten the report from the vp of finance but for some reason he just couldn't do it. He couldn't fire the whole department. For some odd reason he kept thinking of the new girl in dept x and her little boy with the shriveled hand and her bills.\n\nWhat was THAT about. He hadn't felt that way before. He wondered if the new drug his doctor had given him to improve his dating life was the reason.\n\n\nWhatever it was he had to stop it. The board wouldn't stand for a CEO who wouldn't do what was necessary.\n\nHe would have to muster his reserves like he did when he had to shot his pet dog back when he was 10. \n\nAnd he would have to switch doctors.", "The first time you feel it is always the best. After that, you’re always chasing it, that elusive feeling of utter bliss. The first time is also the most difficult. You’re haunted by deeply rooted entrapments, vestiges of our animal heritage, but once you feel it, oh my.\n\nIt feels like bathing in a warm, waxy liquid, tingling sensations creeping up and down your body. There is a throbbing behind your eyeballs, not entirely unpleasant, and it sends tremors through your bones. I wasn’t aware of the sexual reaction until I scratched my belly later and felt my briefs clinging to it, the stickiness of my come transformed to a sheen of caked crust. I giggled at the sound it made when I pulled them away, a soft tearing, not painful.\n\nShe was 11 and very beautiful. I had tried before, but the other was too smart, too seasoned. A whore I had seen a few times at the station in Wiesbaden, I pulled up next to her one night and asked her the question, my throat parched and heart beating so hard I could hear the soft tock tock coming from my mouth. “How much?” I said. She looked at me quizzically. “You from the PX?” Her accent was strong, but I didn’t mind. “Uh, no. I’m just passing through.” Again, that look. “40, with a condom (it came out conndomm)” My hand was resting on the windowsill and began to shake. I grabbed the steering wheel and tried to focus. “For how long?” She scoffed. “For 40 euros I make you feel good, does it matter how long?” I tried to smile. It must have been a terrible thing to see, her face became a beacon of unease. “That’s fine. I have a room at the Ibis here…” She fled. I was too stunned to react and too nervous to follow. My foot pressed down on the gas pedal lightly and I cruised off, cock jutting from my pants like a little denim tent. I vomited next to the hotel, the part about the room hadn’t been a lie. My father always told me honesty was the key to a woman’s heart.\n\nThen, 72 days later I saw her on the train from Frankfurt to Wiesbaden. All by herself. I couldn’t believe how someone could leave such a precious creature on her own. At the same time, I felt that feeling. The moisture from my throat vanishing into thin air, blood pulsing in the region of my groin. She got off at Wiesbaden-Biebrich and I didn’t even realize I had gotten off the train with her. Her skin was light and free of blemishes and her green eyes shone like gems. She had auburn curls, long and clean. I smelled them later and cried.\nDoctor Gleiss asked me if she suffered. What kind of a question is that anyway? He wasn’t related to her and had no business asking me something like that. The mother maybe, oh how pretty she had been. It was easy to see where little Annika got her looks from. Even through her smeared mascara and puffy face, I could see her beauty. When I smiled at her in the courtroom, she screamed. I felt a twitch below my navel and looked away. But Gleiss? I should have known he was bad news as soon as he asked that… fucking question. I should have realized I was being profiled. Yes, I told him, she suffered. Only suffering can cleanse a soul. But she was an innocent little girl, he said. I laughed, a hoarse and horrible sound. “No little girl is innocent doctor.”\n\nMy treatment began the next day. I was in a small, cozy room. Just a bed, table and chair. No pictures, no window. The light was dimmed and I felt at peace. Hospitals never bothered me. The smell of rubbing alcohol, with a underlying aroma of decay made me tranquil and this place looked like a hospital room. But it wasn’t. It was a torture room. I did have a choice. Prison or experimental treatment. I chose the latter. Prison is no place for a guy like me. I don’t like receiving it, giving it however, is a different story. Had I known how pathetic German prisons are, I would have gone in a heartbeat. I would have bent over and let the whole staff fuck me dry if I had known.\n\nThe first injection went straight to my head and I dozed off. When I awoke, I was covered in sweat and I could hear her, Annika. She was moaning, sobbing, begging for me to… I sat up and rubbed my temples. Her voice was still there, but softer now. Tears pattered on the floor, streaming from my eyes. But I felt nothing… Yet. No, there was something. A flutter in my chest, very faint, but noticeable. It was fear.\n\nThe second injection I refused at first. It was no problem for the two orderlies to restrain me. I spat at them, screamed and thrashed, but it was no good. Then, the drowsiness, relief at first, but also a new thing. The realization that she would come back to me brought something so novel and strange, it was worse than anything I had ever felt before. It was blind, searing terror. She came again and the lights were on. Her words were clear, even though she had spoken German and I had no grasp of the language. “I’ll make you feel good Shaun, only 40 euros.” When she opened her mouth, a stream of black liquid came pouring out, muffling her words. The stream began to turn red and she screamed, oh how she screamed. I began to howl, trying to drown out her own wailing. It didn’t work. My restraints were digging into my flesh and I started hyperventilating. She just shuffled towards me, ichor spluttering from her face, screaming and gargling. They came shortly afterwards and gave me another shot. For a moment, the terror returned, but it was replaced by nothing. Sweet, precious nothing.\nAnd now here I am, waiting for the third shot. Will she be back? Of course she will. But what will she say this time? How will she confront me with what I’ve done? Doctor Gleiss asked me another thing that day before the treatment: “Do you feel remorse for what you did?” I thought about that. Did I? Gleiss had no comprehension of what I had done, so again, it wasn’t his question to ask, but it made me think anyway. “No.”, I finally said. “I had no control over my actions. It was… an accident.” Hendrik Gleiss looked at me from above his glasses. “I think you will understand soon. And you will feel remorse.”\nThe sound of the keys clinking, the lock being opened. The flutter in my chest, announcing what will follow soon and something else. Anger? Sadness? I see Gleiss looking at me from over his glasses. His eyes shine green like gems.\n\nNo remorse.\n", "He licked his parted lips nervously, a slick sheen of shiny saliva added to their raw redness and blistered surface.\n\nHe didn't like this one bit. He licked his lips again, before suddenly jerking against his restraints.\n\nHe didn't like restraints, he found them too reminiscent of when mama would use the chains. Chains, cobwebs, creaks. Oh, the creaks, he'd gotten beaten so hard whenever there were creaks, even if he didn't make them.\n\nDon't make noise in the attic. Neighbors might find out, might find out about him being there, about him not having a papa, might stop making the jokes about ghosts in the rafters and come looking for him.\n\nMama would have died if anyone found out that she had a bastard son. Mama did die when her bastard son took a pair of scissors from her crafts basket. Not Stacie though.\n\nStacie died when mama threw her against a wall. All Jared wanted was to be with her when the ambulance came, because he knew that when people left his sight they no longer existed, and he was afraid that if a person was dying when they vanished, they might not come back no matter how hard he willed it.\n\nBut mama chained him in the attic, and Stacie never came back, and the police came by a lot to comfort mama and question her on how exactly Stacie fell down the stairs, but since Stacie was only ten, they believed mama's story, and all the while Jared was chained in the attic so much and so often, and he knew if he so much as farted the police would find him.\n\nAt the time he had thought the police finding him would be a very bad thing, because mama said so. Later, when he found out mamas were allowed to lie, he wondered if he could have escaped her sooner.\n\nHe hid in the attic after mama was gone, at first he even tried putting the chains on himself, and eventually the police stopped coming around. So tragic, they had muttered to themselves, when a mother commits suicide after losing her only child. Well, she was all alone in the world, they said aloud in frankness, unaware that anyone could overhear and silently scream \"I'm still here! I'm the only one who stays here when everyone else is not-attic!\"\n\nEventually, hunger had driven him from his safety in the attic, and he had wandered around, looking for food, eventually realizing he needed to look for Stacie. He got lost a lot, at one point he inquired at a hospital if they knew any details about Stacie Clifford and they told him they could tell him nothing.\n\nHe hung around afterwards, though, and overheard them discussing the strange man inquiring about a dead child. \"She died at Briggs Hospital,\" they declared, \"so why was he asking about it here? We're sixty miles away!\"\n\nStacie still lived, though. Jared knew this.\n\nHe licked his lips again, looking at the man walking towards him with a strange yellow cylinder. The tip looked sharp like scissors, and he wondered if they thought they could stab him like he'd stabbed so many others.\n\nThe not-attics aren't real, he'd tried explaining to them, but as not-attics, they couldn't understand, thought he was insane. They thought he was evil, too, but how could he be evil?\n\nHe was just cleaning up clutter, getting rid of all the not-attics in the world so that he could find Stacie easier. She was a not-attic too, but she was different because she had been in the attic. She had been in the attic, and that made her different from other not-attics.\n\nShe had snuck in while mama was entertaining people downstairs, and for hours they had quietly done puzzles and made drawings and eaten vanilla pudding - the only food mama allowed him to keep in the attic during his long stays, since it couldn't crunch or chew or crackle.\n\nAt some point, he realized that she had become an attic-person too, even though she could leave the attic at will, and he'd hugged her so big, because he wasn't alone in the world anymore. Alone in the attic anymore.\n\nHe was being stabbed by the weird yellow tube's sharp point, and it hurt really bad. He began to cry, silently of course, and the person standing in front looked down sympathetically. \"It'll only sting for a second.\"\n\nThat was good. He felt better just hearing that. Maybe he should work it into his future stabbings. It wasn't so much he didn't care about not-attics, but that they simply didn't matter. He liked comforting them before they died.\n\nHe'd read a Bible once, taken it from mama's bedside table up into his attic, because she was always reading it and curiosity overwhelmed him.\n\nHe had intended to bring it back before she found out, but being a mama, she found out almost immediately. Strangely, though, instead of the usual beating for violating one of her rules (\"no outside stuff in the attic, it could make noise\"), she'd been happy.\n\nShe'd gone out and gotten another copy to give him, but he'd never gotten around to reading it because it wasn't the book that she was so interested in.\n\nThe first line was really nice, though. \"In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth.\" It said nothing about attics, which was relieving to Jared.\n\nSo relieving, that when he stabbed not-attics, he'd recite it to them so they could die in comfort. Most just looked at him in dying terror and confusion, though.\n\nAs not-attics, maybe it didn't have the same meaning to them. Maybe God freed them from their attics already and they forgot how important it was.\n\nStacie though. She got it. She always smiled when he would say that passage out loud, she knew how important it was to him. He had to find Stacie.\n\n\"How do you feel, son?\" His heart fluttered a little. Mama said he didn't have a papa, so why was this man calling him son?\n\nHe licked his lips again, chewing the lower one. It began to leak again, which stung a little, so he said so.\n\n\"Okay, bud, we'll get you some ice for that lip.\" His name wasn't Bud, either, so maybe this guy just had trouble with what to call people.\n\nThe promised ice arrived, and it soothed Jared's lip like the man said it would. His stab wound, which had been temporarily forgotten, was feeling warm, though, so he announced that to the room as well.\n\n\"Oh?\" The man somehow hurried over slowly, which seemed to Jared a pretty neat trick - rushing at a leisurely pace. He looked at Jared's stab wound, declared it uninfected, unswollen, just a tiny bit red. \"You'll live.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" Jared mumbled. When he stabbed people, he didn't have the power to keep them alive, so he was a little impressed. Not that he would, it seemed to defeat the purpose of stabbing them.\n\nThe man's eyes flew open, then settled back into a neutral position.\n\nJared pulled against his restraints again, suddenly hit by the impulse to get free. He didn't like being attic while everyone else around him was not-attic. The man jumped back, cursing under his breath.\n\n\"Sorry, I just don't like chains.\" The man gaped, then wrote something down on a clipboard his other not-attic handed him.\n\nWhy was Jared explaining himself to not-attics anyway? Jared was a little confused. Normally if he couldn't stab them and make them vanish, they weren't worth interacting with. Maybe it was being forced to be attic again. Maybe it was being stabbed. Maybe it was because this man looked like Stacie just the tiniest bit.\n\n\"Have you seen Stacie Clifford? She's ten years old and vanished.\" He asked. It was a question he asked every day, to different people. The man stepped closer, looked down at him.\n\n\"Mr. Clifford, your sister has been dead for almost eighteen years.\"\n\n\"Have you seen her, though? She's just like you except she's been in the attic.\" He tried to explain.\n\n\"Mr. Clifford, she's not here anymore.\"\n\nThis was interesting. So she'd been here before? Was this a lead in his pursuit? He asked earnestly, and the man shook his head.\n\n\"Mr. Clifford, she'd not on this earth anymore, she's dead.\"\n\nHm. He didn't know how hard it was to walk to Heaven, which he figured was on the moon since God only created the Heaven and the Earth, but he'd heard that not-attics had launched a rocket there before. \"Thank you.\" he said again, pleased at having a new lead on where to search.\n\nA curious thought, maybe he didn't have to kill any more not-attics, if she wasn't here. Of course, he'd have to kill all the not-attics in Heaven if there were too many up there.\n\nHe wondered how many people might be in Heaven, and then realized he still needed to kill not-attics here, otherwise they might go to Heaven. They always want to go to Heaven, he'd seen it on televisions and heard it on radios.\n\nApparently getting into Heaven was as easy as accepting Jesus, but he didn't know where to find any of those. But since a lot of people were accepting Jesus...\n\nHe began to sob, realizing how many not-attics must be in Heaven. So many, if there were so many here in Earth trying to get in, and so many got in all the time. He better keep stabbing, start stabbing even more, pruning them all out. And he had to find a way into Heaven, since that was where she was last seen.\n\nThe man gestured, and another man stepped forward, waiting. \"How do you feel, Mr. Clifford?\"\n\nHe looked up, distraught. \"I'm very sad, sir.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"There are so many people in Heaven now, and Stacie's there too. It makes me very sad.\"\n\nThe man didn't seem sad to hear this, but then, he was a not-attic. He was grinning.\n\n\"The patient is showing remorse at all the people he's killed, and accepted that his sister is dead!\" he practically chirruped to his assistant. \"The formula works!\"\n\nJared frowned, then gasped as his arm began stinging more. He'd been stabbed again by the other person. Gasping was bad, he might be heard. But then, the other person was Stacie, so it was okay for him to gasp a little.\n", "I never murdered anyone. And, despite what my therapist might tell you, I never wanted to. \n\nI can prove it to you. A year before they started giving me the pills, some junkie jumped me outside my apartment. He came at me with a knife, but I know how to protect myself. I disarmed him and wrestled him to the ground. I held the knife in my hand. If I had wanted to kill him, there was nothing to stop me. But I didn't feel angry. I didn't feel afraid. I felt the way I always feel. Indifferent. So I let him go. \n\nWhy should it matter to me if that junkie lived or died? I've never cared what you people do with your lives. And, from what I can tell, none of you seem particularly interested in what I do with my life. \n\nThen they made me take the pills.\n\nI'll never forget that first day when the drugs took effect. I couldn't even recognize the people in the streets anymore. They all looked so tired. Worn down by fear, stress, and anxiety. The same emotions that began to grip me. \n\nFor the first time, I worried what my coworkers thought about me. I felt regret that I hadn't spent more time with my parents while they were alive. I thought back on all of the insensitive things I had ever said or done, and my stomach knotted up. \n\nFor a moment, I didn't feel like an outsider anymore. I could finally understand why you people are so damn afraid all the time. Every person on the street had fears, dreams, and love. And I was one of them. But only for a moment.\n\nThat same junkie was waiting for me outside my apartment that night. He didn't want my money this time. He had stopped using months ago, but I had injured his pride in our last confrontation. It wasn't desperation, but his ego that had brought him there. \n\nAgain, he attacked me. Again, I fought him off. Again, I held the knife in my hand. Again, I let him run away. \n\nI couldn't believe what had happened. I had given a human being a second chance at life, and this was my reward. But then I thought about everything I had seen you people do over the years. You steal from each other. You lie to each other. You murder each other. All despite having the same hopes, fears, and dreams.\n\nThat junkie dropped his knife when he escaped. He dropped his wallet, too. Now that I know where he lives, maybe I'll pay him a visit. \n\nI've stopped taking the pills. I don't need them now that I've got you people figured out. My lack of empathy doesn't make me feel like an outsider anymore. In fact, I've never felt more at home." ]	4
	[WP] After 200 years of self-driving cars the first car accident occurs.	[ "Thomas reclined his seat and turned on the inside light, pulling out his ebook to read Infinite Jest, the book he had been picking away at throughout the summer. He was on the road early on the way to visit his friend Dave in Montreal. The city streetlights cut through the fog above, chopping lines of shifting white-blue light over the highway ahead of him. It was going to be a long drive. It was fitting to bring an equally long book.\n\nThe morning sun was rising in the distance, peering over thick forests and craggy hills. The glare shined through the front windshield, so Thomas partially closed the window shutters. He didn't need the view of the road when he had the book to read. \n\nAfter about two hours on the road, he received a text message from Dave on his headPhone. \n\n\"See you soon!\"\n\nThomas tried to reply, but was interrupted by a pop-up notification.\n\n'iCar detected: Would you like to pair with this device?'\n\n\"Sure,\" said Thomas. This was the first time he had paired with his car. He recalled hearing Helen Patterson talk about the new feature at the recent Apple keynote. Thomas didn't quite have a strong grasp on it yet.\n\nHe attempted to reply to Dave.\n\n\"On the road up,\" he told the headPhone.\n\n\"Auto Mode off,\" announced the car.\n\n\"Oh come on, Siri! I meant to send that as a message! I said 'on the road up'!\"\n\n\"Manual mode is now enabled.\"\n\nHe jammed his foot on the gas pedal. Thomas didn't know how to drive. Most people didn't. Automobile enthusiasts would learn how to drive, but a driver's license hadn't been required for a self-driving since the 2070s. Since Thomas couldn't drive, he was in a difficult situation. He told the car to take off the shutters. He saw the harsh reality unfolding in front of him. He was going 170 kilometres per hour on a highway and he had no idea what he was doing. A turn was approaching. He jerked the steering wheel to the right, too early, too fast.\n\nThomas was helpless as his air-conditioned lounge of a car careened off of the road and barrelled into a guardrail. This happened too fast for him to process emotionally or rationally. The chorus of airbags erupted around the inside of the vehicle as it flipped over, landing upside down with the guardrail smashing the rear bumper.\n\nThe light on the front of the console blinked, and the Siri icon appeared.\n\"It appears that you have been involved in an accident. Authorities have been notified and should arrive promptly.\" Thomas quickly fell unconscious.\n\nDozens of cars drove by over the next ten minutes, their passengers too involved in their movies, their books and their text messages to notice the wreck of a forest-green iCar on the side of the highway.\n\nWhen Thomas awoke, he tried to send a voice message to Dave.\n\n\"Hey, Dave,\" he panted. \"I figured you should know, but I think I'm going to be okay. I just went off the road.\"\n\n\"Auto mode enabled.\" \n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "Johnson awoke Monday morning July 5th 2220, groggy as any other morning. The previous nights activities hadn't phased him one bit. Not that it would matter - there hadn't been an accident since Google went under 2 centuries ago. It wasn't even a hardware error, but a malicious programmer. Back before we had deviant thought detection.\n\n\"20 minutes late! ah, crap my alarm wasn't set!\" Johnson remarked to himself as he stumbled out of bed. He kissed his wife off, and hopped in his 2202 Chevy Oort LS, still dressing himself up.\n\n\"Car, get to work, stat!\" he shouted, buttoning his shirt as he looked himself over in the mirror.\n\nThe vehicle pulsed as the ultracapacitor's charge shot kilowatts of energy to the electric suerconductive motor, providing instant torque and taking the immaculatly reflective, digitally inked vehicle from 0 to 120 in less than 10 seconds.\n\nThe airless tires compressed and flexed as the Oort curved onto the turnpike at the Elon Musk Memorial expressway where thousands of other workers were also making their cross country journey. Living in New York and working in Los Cruces, NM was a thing of luxury, but not a luxury out of reach to the middle class. The suburbs became a thing of the past, as infrastructure tightened and environmental restrictions prevented urban sprawl. 90% of Americans now reside in supertower megacities which replaced nearly every major city of the country. In between these cities is desolate, wild land where vast forest reclaims previous farmland and suburbs. The highways and rails are essentially the only place human life could be found, outside of the megacities.\n\n\"Car, increase speed\", Johnson demanded. He was late, but there was still a possibility his boss would let it slide.\n\nThe car smoothly merged into the high-speed lane, increasing speed to 196. Done getting dressed, Johnson set his chair back and reclined so as to sleep while he still had the chance. \n\n\"Thud- crack!\" Johnson woke, startled to a loud knock from above, and then another, and another. Loud hail rained down from above. The plaines had unpredictable weather this time of year. Climate change had made its toll on the weather. No matter, every licensed vehicle was required to have software that could account for road conditions. The Oort could predict maneuvers with up to golf ball sized hail. The software also allowed the cars to communicate with each other road conditions, and organize each other's routes based on travel destinations.\n\nTwenty-five miles up the road was a first generation 2145 FIAT Galaxy with older hardware not capable of predicting the behavior of the car with heavy golf ball sized hail. For the right price a technician could upgrade the hardware, or even flash a custom firmware to circumvent detection and make it run the update software on the older hardware. But this driver was frugal and the car could not drive in the conditions. This was a common occurrence, if a vehicle could not predict the conditions properly, it pulled it self to the side of the road and waited it out. Often without the driver even being aware. So the FIAT pulled to the shoulder and traffic automatically diverted around the car, as was protocol.\n\nBy the time Johnsons Oort approached the vehicle, the conditions improved dramatically enough for the FIAT to begin moving again. The Oort predicted the possibility of a passenger opening and exiting the driver side door, so it routed itself alongside the right of the vehicle just as a deer happened to jump onto the highway. The deer was detected by radar instantly and the Oort vehicle swiftly swerved out of the way of the deer, missing by mere inches. The Galaxy had an Autodetect version 384.45, which didn't predict the Oorts Autodetect 384.49's new route properly and incorrectly thought it would be fractions of an inch in the wrong place. Somehow a programmer had somewhere used one decimal of accuracy less. This was enough to throw the vehicles into a collision course. The Oort swiped sideways into the Galaxy with just slightly enough momentum to flex the carbon nanotube material door and scuff the paint. The meta-material detected the collision, repaired the digital paint, notified technicians, and submitted a bug report all in less than 30 seconds. A red light on the dash indicated all this had been done, and Johnson continued sleeping, dreaming of a world where he could not be late. Meanwhile the Galaxy had been flagged, driver woken, and their vehicle re-routed for immediate inspection and upgrade at the nearest service center. \n\nIf sensor logs were not checked properly, or the service center wasn't modest enough, no one might know the collision ever occurred, and the world would continue running, completely oblivious to the fact that driverless cars were capable of crashing.", "Detective Michael \"Mickey\" Bleachtaire's phone goes off. He checks the notification for his next call. Car accident? Ugh, really? What bullshit. He gets on the viewscreen with dispatch.\n\"Are you sure the call came in right?\" Mickey asked with an annoyed tone. \"It wasn't a prank call was it?\"\nThe dispatcher pulls up his monitor and gestures his way to the call. \n\"No sir, the call is good. We have PD on scene and they've informed us that it is indeed a wreck. EMS has transported one in critical condition to St. Luke's and declared two dead at the scene. If you connect to Officer Cummins' vest camera you'll get a good initial look at the scene. Anything else you need sir?\"\nBleachtaire sat a moment perplexed. \n\"Uh, no, no that's all. Thanks.\"\nHe turns off the screen and gets his suit jacket and throws it over his slender shoulders as he walks to the elevators. Pressing the garage button he thinks to himself how something like this could happen. There hasn't been a car accident on public roads in years; Oogle's self driving system has been tested time and time again with redundant fail safes to keep anyone from tampering with the system. \nFoul play? Must be. But how? And I have to figure this out?\nReaching the garage he walks to his own car and gets in and sets the coordinates. The car takes off briskly and silently towards his destination.\n\nWalking through the force field Bleachtaire kneeled at the wreckage and stares into the charred remains of the vehicle. He has no idea where to begin. Any evidence of wrongdoing would be in the onboard computer's database. \n\n\"Looking for this, detective?\" Officer Cummins approaches Mickey with the surprisingly intact black box. You could even still read the warning labels on the back. \n\nMickey stands up and grabs the box from Cummins.\n\"Yea, uh, thanks.\" \n\nThe Detective walks around examining the rest of the scene raising an eyebrow every now and then. Having come up with nothing else he could do, he walked back to his car and set coordinates for the station. \n\n\"Might as well get started now so I can get home early\" he mumbles.\n\nPulling up his holographic screen, he grabs his universal adapter and hooks it to the black box. Warnings pop up about unfamiliar devices and securing his connection. He bats them away meekly and continues with the logs. The screen goes out, and a message starts to quickly scroll up. Bleachtaire can't read it all but he caught glimpses \n\n\"...I FUCKING TOLD YOU FUCKS\"\n\n\"You'll all pay\"\n\n\"...Teach you to FUCK WITH ME...\"\n\n\"Their blood is ON YOUR LAZY CUNT HANDS\"\n\nThe screen shut off. The car started to speed up and Mickey started to panic. Where are the controls?! He slams the emergency stop button. Nothing happens. Cars in front of his start blowing through the red light. So did Mickey's. He looks over and sees a car a foot away from his. He lets out a cry, only to be muffled out by carbon fiber and glass crunching against his face.", "The sound was deafening. \n\nAt least, that's what they told me when I asked. Apparently a few even thought the Sheeyen were attacking again. Absurd. There hadn't been a Sheeyen attack in over 50 years. Then again there hadn't been a motor vehicle collision in over 200 years, so maybe I should be a bit more understanding. The mind can play interesting tricks on you in times of extreme stress. Sheeyen attack. Car wreck. I held my hands in front like I was comparing the weight of two items. I guess both are just as likely.\n\nThe car wreck apparently wins out this time, as insane as that sounds. I'd almost rather have the alien attack. It would at least make more sense.\n\n\"Lieutenant\" I said, nodding at Lieutenant Malone as I walked through the police barrier line which prevented rubberneckers from getting through. I showed him my consultants badge and he pointed off to his left without a word. I nodded again and walked off towards a group of uniforms packed around a vidtable.\n\n\"Harry. Good to see you.\"\n\n\"Stacy. What kind of craziness you got going on here? If it wasn't for the lack of TriDef cams around the area, I'd think you were shooting a new film or something.\"\n\n\"I wish.\"\n\nCaptain Anastasia Dupree, Stacy to her friends, ran the Fifth Precinct fast and loose. Out here on the outskirts of Old Miami, there wasn't a lot of action to deal with. Not normally anyway. Tonight was shaping up differently. Stacy was tall, slim, and laughed easily. She wasn't even smiling now.\n\nOf course, if she was out here on the scene herself, then things were probably pretty bad. The fact that the department had called me in, meant it was even worse. I was a troubleshooter. Where trouble popped its head up, I shot it back down. Most of the time anyway. There was that incident at Asteroid Seven, but I don't talk about that much. Bad for business.\n\n\"So just what is going on here?\" I asked. There had to be fifty odd officers running around, blocking off a very large area with police barrier. Five or six fire trucks were working on a few fires, though it looked to be mostly under control.\n\n\"Five car pileup is what.\" she said.\n\n\"Heh for a second there I thought you said five car pileup.\"\n\n\"It is what I said. Motor vehicle accident. Five cars involved directly, several others indirectly. Three people injured, no one died thankfully.\"\n\nI opened my mouth to respond, and it just sort of stayed that way for a few seconds. I wasn't even sure what to say. No one alive today had even seen a car accident before. They, well, they just didn't happen.\n\n\"Well, \" I said finally, \"at least the Sheeyen aren't attacking.\"\n", "\"There's been an accident!\" Johnson yelled towards the captain's door.\n\n\"What happened? Someone fall off a balcony again?\" The captain said. He had seen his fair share of grisly suicides from the Tesla Tower downtown. Apparently, working there was one of the toughest jobs around.\n\n\"No, a car accident! It happened on 5th and main.\" Johnson replied.\n\nEveryone in the department peeked up from their desks with a look of bewilderment. There hadn't been a car accident in 200 years. Not since Tesla and Google had merged and helped pass a law requiring all cars to be modified with self-driving equipment. Not long after, humans were banned from driving vehicles on public roadways. Over the last 2 centuries, there hadn't been so much as a scratch caused by two cars touching. \n\n\"Impossible,\" The Captain stated in disbelief, \"Get Musk on the phone now!\"\n\nThe captain's phone was ringing before he had finished his sentence. \n\nElon Musk, Tesla the phone read.\n\n\"Musk, what the hell happened?\" The captain was started to lose his cool. The media headache that would follow would be hell on earth. \"Explain.\"\n\n\"Captain, I can assure you that this problem will be fixed immediately. We have our top men on it and we are positive we already know the cause.\" The young voice of the eccentric billionaire sounded excited and anxious at the same time. He was 245 years old, but hadn't aged a day since his company had developed a \"cure\" for old age in 2020.\n\n\"Captain, accidents are now being reported from all over the city!\" Johnson screamed, his voice cracking.\n\n\"Elon, tell me this isn't happening. How the hell are we supposed to deal with this problem. No one in my department was alive when the last car accident happened. We don't have the man power for this. Tell me you have a solution.\"\n\n\"Just trust me when I say that this isn't really a big deal, Captain.\" Musk replied in a smug tone.\n\n\"NOT A BIG DEAL!\" The captain screamed, veins pumping and eyes wild. \"I've worked on these programs, I've been a part of this system. I know these cars are NEVER supposed to be involved in accident. I've seen the programming, it's flawless. It has been for 200 years! Absolutely nothing could cause a car to be involved in an accident. How are you not worried?\" The captain was right to be upset. The algorithm/program that was written for the auto-network was fool proof. All cars were wired to each other, able to compensate for eachother's movements at a moments notice. If a car had to suddenly stop downtown for a pedestrian jumping in front of it, all of the cars behind it, trailing mere inches away in tight formation, would know to slow down as well. It was truly a piece of engineering wonder. \n\nElon replied, his voice slightly shaky, \"Ok, you are right. The system is foolproof. If everything is hooked in and cannot possibly impact another car. The formula is complete and accounts for everything, every possible action. That is unless a random number is unexpectedly thrown in the mix.\"\n\n\"How could that happen? Are you suggesting an unaccounted vehicle just spontaneously entered the system? That can't happen., and you know that. You make every vehicle in the world and you know exactly where each one is. One cannot just show up in the system.\" The captain was getting exasperated. Calls were continuing to flood in. There were wrecks everywhere. Something had caused the algorithm to fail. \n\n\"You're right, a car can't just show up. Or at least it shouldn't be able to.\" Elon replied.\n\n\"Are you telling me you did this? Did you purposefully wreck the system?\"\n\n\"We thought it might be a consequence of the experiment,\" Elon spoke with certainty, \"but we took a gamble anyway.\"\n\n\"Just get to the point Musk, what experiment? What did you do?\"\n\n\"Well that 'random number' that go thrown in the mix? That was ours, from about 10 years in the future. It seems we invent time travel soon.\"" ]	5
	[WP] A seemingly small action results in some massive result through a remarkably unlikely series of events.	[ "12:03. \n\nTwelve oh-three.\nJeremy wondered why that number was so significant to him.\nIt had a certain ring to it. It's been about 6 hours since he hit the snooze button and decided he wanted to quit his job at the nuclear reactor. He hardly did anything at all there, it wasn't like he was going to be missed. It was the same thing every god damn morning. Wake up at 6:03 exactly. Shower for roughly 10 minutes. Put on the stupid white collar and name tag he wore every day, 6 days a week. Get in the shitty mini-van he inherited when his mother passed. Make a quick stop at Dunkin Donuts. 2 sugars in a decaf coffee and that was it. Clock in at the plant, sit down at the desk, and read levels for 12 hours straight. Stupid levels. Levels that didn't actually mean anything to him, just levels that he was told to make sure didn't tip over 84%. But today was different. At 6:03 his stupid fucking alarm made that stupid fucking noise and he let out the same stupid fucking sigh. But instead of putting on his stupid fucking slippers and stepping out of bed, he changed it up. He hit the snooze function on his alarm. \nSo here he was, at 12:03 in the morning. The answering machine had woken him up with a monotone beeping that didn't really matter. But as a responsible adult (ha), he figured he should check it in case it was his non-existant girlfriend or his super-awesome-fun-loving-boss. And it was his fuckface of a boss. \"Jeremy where the fuck are you, do you even know what you've do----\" ... silence. Three beeps followed by \"All new messages read\". Oh well. If he needed him that badly he'd call back. So Jeremy heated up some pizza from the night before and turned on the news. \"Bob Daniels here with the latest live reports on the nuclear gas flood of downtown Texas, the upper-side of Houston, 1 million reported to be thought of as dead\" ... silence as Jeremy turned the television off. He sipped his coffee and scratched his head. Then he stood up from the table, walked down to his room, and went back to bed. \n\nEDIT: Too lazy to look over this so there's definitely some mistakes, most likely run on sentences and such.", "\"You know something, and this may sound odd, but it's something that I've thought about most nights over the past several years. Please bear with me, this is a long story.\" \n\n\"Of course,\" I responded. The cameras were rolling, but the interview wasn't live so I could cut this tangent out if it led nowhere. My subject, the deputy chief of staff for the outgoing President of the past eight years, was a quant and unassuming man. His stories and perspective had been predictably dull throughout the interview so far. I figured he must have practiced his modest image which was how he managed to stay in his position while his superiors, the actual chiefs of staff, had been replaced twice. Senior White House staff don't tend to stay for more than a few years, but Eric Rothschild had been around for two whole terms. \n\n\"Now you know that the President invoked Article 5 when Russia moved forces towards Poland. This was easily his most controversial decision, and one that I believe history will view with mixed opinions even with decades of hindsight. Let me be clear, it was the right decision. But we know that the border clashes cost the lives of nearly two thousand young American lives. Looking at President Rankin's approval ratings, we can safely assume that he would be unlikely to be reelected if he could run for a third term. The American people are unhappy that Europe's problems required American blood to resolve. And while Governor Tanaka has said that if he were elected back in 2024 he would never have sent Americans to die in that conflict, which appears to be giving him momentum for another presidential run this year, I would like to remind the American people of how the NATO alliance kept America safe throughout the Cold War. We could not have turned our backs on our allies when they needed us, since they supported us in our time of greatest fear and peril.\" \n\nRothschild was a living exposition dump. I would nod when the tone in his voice seemed to call for it, but to be honest I wasn't paying much attention to his words. He was talking about how his administration sent American military forces to fight off Russian aggression in Eastern Europe, a highly controversial decision since hundreds died, and many believed that the situation would have resolved itself in time if no Americans had been sent. President Rankin's opponent during his reelection campaign, a striking young governor from Washington by the name of Steven Tanaka pledged to keep America safe and Americans home. He was young and he lost the election, and seven months later Rankin sent twelve thousand soldiers, airmen, and Marines to Poland. An astounding one thousand, eight hundred, and seventy four of them never came home. \n\nRankin's approval rating tanked and Rothschild's superior, the former White House chief of staff, was one of several senior staff members to resign. But somehow Rothschild stayed. My guess is that no one even realized he was there. I had almost forgotten I was interviewing him as he was still rambling aimlessly, and my mind was half-focused on the Redtails game of which I was probably going to miss the kickoff because of this interview. \n\n\"... historical context, which clearly indicates that the reactionary forces of American troops was necessary and called for. I will maintain that if we had Governor Tanaka in the Oval Office during the Poland crisis, America would have sat on its hands and there would have been much more bloodshed. Without the United States to put its foot down and halt the Russian advance early on, we could have seen bloodshed on a scale magnitudes larger than...\" \n\nI was wondering if I could watch the game and still be awake enough to fuck my girlfriend afterwards. When we first started dating she gave me a blowjob during the 2027 NFC championship game, but now that we had moved in together all of the fun had stopped. Still, even our boring sex life had more life in it than this interview. \n\n\"Would I say that the Rankin administration stopped World War III? Perhaps. That's not for me to say,\" he droned on. If I gave it any thought I supposed the administration could have been right; they could have prevented a third World War, but the way this guy talked about it I might as well be reading a textbook. \n\nI had taken my watch off before the interview started because I knew I would be tempted to look at it. I noticed a camera operator yawning. \n\n\"Now I want to tell you what I've thought about for the past few years.\" I think he had already said that! Was he out of tactics on dullness and was now resorting to simply repeating himself? \n\n\"As you know...\" he began. As I know. Don't start a sentence with that you prick, if I already know it then you don't need to tell me. \n\n\"He was elected president because of his experience in the senate, particularly on the armed services committee. After eighteen years the American people...\" \n\nHe was a walking Ambien. \n\n\"But what many people don't remember was how much of a scrap his first campaign for congress was.\" \n\nI looked at my wrist, forgetting there was no watch there. \n\n\"He was running against an incumbent with a 56% approval rating...\" \n\nWho remembers that sort of thing? \n\n\"... I joined on as a college intern. I don't think many reasonable adults had the idea that Rankin could actually unseat his opponent, but I was young and full of idealism...\" \n\nIt was hard to imagine Rothschild ever being young. I pictured him coming out of the womb as an old man. \n\n\"But that race came down to optics, as they often do. And there was one photograph that gave us the boost we needed to pull victory from the jaws of defeat...\" \n\nI pictured pulling my fist from the jaws of Rothschild. \n\n\"There was an infamous photo of the sitting senator, where he was refusing to shake a single mother's hand. People don't actually realize that there was a reason for it. The senator had just stepped on a frog. He squashed the poor thing.\" \n\nWait, what? \n\n\"His shoes, which were quality shoes I assure you, had been smeared with the unpleasant residue of a dead amphibious animal. The senator slipped just a little, not enough for many people to notice. He bent down to see what caused the slip and was too distracted to shake that woman's hand. It was a simple event that happened on the campaign trail, but a lucky photographer got the perfect image. I'm sure you saw it at some point, we used it in nearly all of our attack ads.\" \n\nFor a second there it had seemed like Rothschild was about to say something interesting. But now I was back to thinking that I would definitely miss the kickoff. \n\n\"The impact of that one seemingly small photograph was the entire election. The senator looked like he was scorning a young mother, and Rankin got elected. That's what I've thought about for the past few years.\" \n\nThen Rothschild stopped talking. He folded his hands together, as if he had just said something meaningful. He leaned back, looking satisfied with himself. \n\nThere was a brief silence. I was taken aback by how disappointing of a climax his story had. Even for this man, that was dull. \n\n\"I'm sorry Mr. Rothschild, but could you state the point of that story?\" I asked, with a bit too much audible dislike in my voice for a professional interviewer. \n\n\"The point?\" he asked. Then he answered his own question. \"The point,\" he said, \"is that a dead frog prevented World War III.\"" ]	2
	[WP] Ten years after they graduated high school, the bully and his victim meet. The bully attempts a genuine apology.	[ "Mike's pulse was starting to quicken as he gazed through the icy glass door of the ice cream refrigerator. A slight chill blew out over him, as his eyes stood fixated on his subject. His hand clenched around the rim of the door as his hand started turning white. He was angry. He was shocked. He was disgusted and full of hatred. He hated...him...\n\nThe young man walked up past the ice cream section and stopped on the spot, his bread loaf falling at his side and his mouth dropped open.\n\n\"Jesus christ... Mike Hunt?! Dude!! Haha, long time no see. Haven't seen you since high school\"\n\nMike stared at him coldly. His teeth gritting. His eyes burning. His nostrils flaring. \"This guy has some fucking nerve\" he thought to himself.\n\n\"Mate it's so crazy being out of school huh? Gettin' old so fast eh? Check out my spot\" he chuckled as he tilted his head forward revealing the bald patch on his head. Mike glared at it wanting to smash his fist right over the top and crack it open. \"So how's life treatin' ya? I'm married now and kids and all, just working as a brickie and putting food on the table. I see you're some kind of techie?\" he said as he motioned towards the name tag on Mike's white collared t-shirt pocket. \"No\" Mike replied, half angrily, half regrettably, \"I work here. I pack the shelves\". \"Dude no way hahaha what the fuck? I thought you were some book nerd\". Mike wasn't ready to explain being kicked out of college due to depression and not being able to focus on his studies, let alone how he was kicked out of the house for spending too much time on the computer in his room. \"Ahh well, shit happens. Good luck buddy I'm off to work, just gotta grab some stuff for the missus. Ya know...women 'n' all\". But Mike didn't 'know'. He'd actually never had the courage nor the self-respect to approach a woman. He was beta beyond belief. A net tard, brony, local DnD player...he was as repulsive to women as any chubby unshaved slob would be. \"Take it easy mate\".\n\nMate... what the fuck? Mike could not fathom what he just heard. \"MATE? Did he just call me friend? Mate? What the...this... this fucking guy... the nerve of him...he jus...\". Mike's thought process was running wild as he tried to contemplate what he just heard. \"Mate?\". After all these years, all the high school days of being pushed around, beaten, bullied, made fun of, and treated like an absolute shit stick, this guy was calling Mike a 'friend'. Mike looked down at the ice-cream tub in his hand. \"Mate..\" he shook his head to himself. \"Nerd..white collar...yeah...that's what I SHOULD have been... but... but what?\" he stared at the ice cream long and hard and felt a rush of excitement. \"Mate...\". He took the ice cream and slammed it hard on the ground. He laughed hysterically as he booted the tub across the floor sending it skidding down the aisle. The manager who has in the next isle came running around when he heard this.\n\n\"Mike what the fuck are you doing?\" he yelled.\n\n\"Quitting. See ya\". And with that he stormed out of the store, throwing his name tag on the ground and kicking it under a vegetable stand.\n\n\"Mate...\"\n\nAs Mike exited the store he felt a breeze of frrsh air flow over him, and it wasn't from a freezer. It was the outside. It was a sunny day. It was beautiful, and for the first time in a long time, Mike felt real, alive, and excited. ", "(Comment) When I signed up for FB a couple years ago, I got an email from the account of the wife of one of my JH bullies. It was really sweet and said something like he was glad that I was still alive (This was during the anti-bullying It Gets Better craze) and asked me to forgive him. \n\nGuess what? I can't picture who he is. I recognize his name, and not one single incident he was involved in. Turns out he felt horrible taking pleasure in watching me get bullied. His apology was genuine and let him know I had no hard feelings. ", "Heather pulled the pack of cigarettes out her pocket and tapped them against her leg, agitatedly. She'd be smoke free for almost 5 months this Friday, and she couldn't give that up now, no matter how stressful the last week had been. Gillian from accounts had sent a huge stack of unbalanced cheques down this morning, with a little pink post-it note on the top saying \"Cheque-o-Slovakia before you wreck-o-Slovakia!\", the two \"i\"s dotted with little hearts. Heather hated Gillian.\n\nWalking along the promenade was often a pleasant experience on the weekends, and she'd been at work since 9 (it was now 4:21) without a break, so fuck it, she deserved a chance to unwind a little before she personally shat in an envelope and sent it straight up to Gillian. \n\"You're disgusting\" she mumbled to herself. She'd managed to keep the conversations with herself to a minimum at work, with only a few guttural sighs and verbal eye-rollings escaping so far. \n\nThe wind was oddly nice against her skin, which felt as though it had been bleached to a sickly jaundice thanks to the fluorescent lights of the office. Mark had been staring more than usual today, meaning Heather's slightly psychopathic thoughts had paralleled the increase. \n\"As long as they're only thoughts\" she heard herself whisper.\n \n\"Um, excuse me?\"\n\n\"Sorry, just talking to myself\" Heather never bothered to look up from the ground. It was almost a daily occurrence now, someone thinking she was talking to them. \n\n\"Yeah I know, would I expect anything else from Heather Wolczak?\"\nShe froze. Who knew her? Why did they know her? What did they know about her?\nHeather snapped her head up, almost headbutting the owner of the Valley-girl voice.\nWalking round in front of her now was an above-average pretty blonde, slightly taller than Heather, with makeup well applied to her face. As irritated as she was to be interrupted in her hour-long reprieve from buzzing light rods and sub-par coffee, Heather had to appreciate the immaculate application of eyeshadow on this woman. Some girls can only dream of blending two tones as flawlessly. Zooming out Heather realised she’d been analysing this woman for almost 30 full seconds without giving her any sort of response. Then it hit her. In front of her stood Amber Timney. Amber. Timney. Heather could practically feel the acid in her stomach working its way up to her throat. Not that she’d be against spraying a corrosive material over the parasite that now stood in front of her, smiling with full red lips while looking slightly scared. Why was she scared? \n\n\n“Do I know you?” This was good, feign ignorance and keep the interaction as short as possible.\n\n“It’s me, Amber! Amber from high school? Amber Timney?”\nJesus Christ, did she really have to say her name three times?\n\n“Oh Amber, you look so different! How’ve you been?” Heather was horrified that she had replied in a responsive Valley-girl accent, ending all of her sentences like a question.\n\n“I’m great! What about you? Oh, it’s so good to see you again!” She started forward, and hesitated a little. Was she going for a hug? Fucking try it, thought Heather.\n\n“Haha definitely better than the last time we met!” \nAmber looked away and cleared her throat. \n\n“Oh… well, yeah” A nervous laugh escaped both pairs of lips. “I’m working at the MAC counter in Macy’s now.”\n\n“Good for you!”\n\n“Yeah… what about you?”\n\n“I’m… in an office”\nSilence.\n\n“What… what do you do in the office?”\n\n“Ah, you know… this and that”\nAmber nodded. This conversation would end now. Heather would not be ticking “make friends with the enemy” off her bucket list any time soon. ”Well you know, speak of the devil, I have to get back about now. It was good seeing you, Amber” She turned and speed-walked in the exact opposite direction.\n\n“Wait! Heather! Heather”\nJesus Christ did she really want to squeeze all of the blood out of this stone? \n\nHeather turned. Amber was walking up to her with an expression of pity.\n\n“Look, um… I really wanted to say to you how sorry I am about everything, like… how much of a bitch I was - to you especially - in school”\n\nExpectation:\nThudding was starting in heather’s chest. She stared at Amber blankly. After such a shitty week this might just be the chance to really let it out.\n“You weren’t a bitch to me in school.” Amber’s pity smile softened. “You were a cunt to me in school.” Heather now stared right through Amber’s perfectly blended eyes into the cold void where a soul should be. \n“Heather listen I-”\n“You’ve done enough talking. You did far too much of it in school, and now it’s coming right back around to bite you in the ass. You were despicable. You treated me like such shit, and I didn’t deserve it.” Tears were now forming along the rim of Amber’s mascara. “And you know what? It still affects me to this day. You caught me at the absolute worst moment of my life, and instead of sympathising with me, you put my secret out there for the entire world to see. I still can’t fully trust anyone, and I seriously doubt I’ll ever be able to.”\n“Heather please just listen ok?” the tears had now overlapped the mascara and were streaming down her evenly blushed cheeks. “I understand now. I… I had one too.”\nThe wind had picked up and was now blowing blond locks across her face, obscuring the tears Heather had longed to see since she was 15.\n“You think because you’ve had an abortion you now know what you made life like for me?”\nAmber was starting to sob now. Weird choking noises were now coming from her mouth. “I don’t think you understand at all. First you told everyone about me, and then for the next 3 years when I - rightly so - became a recluse, you and your little gang continued to throw insult after insult at me!”\n“Heather, I had problems of my own that I didn’t want to deal with and I took it out on you and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry” She was almost unintelligible now. It felt good to see Amber in this state, as though the Heather’s inner insecure teenager had finally found closure. Pulling up her sleeve to reveal a couple of small horizontal cuts overshadowed by one large vertical one, Heather held her arm in front of Amber’s face.\n“Most people would tell me I did this to myself. They’re wrong.” She moved her arm to the side and leaned in, her face barely a foot away from Amber’s. “You did this”.\n\nThat was it, the line to walk out on, Without hesitation she whirled around and strode away, her hands shaking at the utter release of tension she had just experiences. She could still hear Amber’s sniffles, and she probably would in her dreams that night as well. \n“Maybe I’ll give Gillian a piece of my mind” escaped from Heather’s mouth, and she suddenly felt like this week didn’t have to be so shitty after all.\n\nReality:\n\n“Don’t be silly Amber, we were kids!”\n“No honestly Heather, I feel absolutely awful for the way I treated you.”\n“Well I‘m glad you’ve come around to realise your mistakes Amber, but honestly, I’m fine.”\nThey shared a quick smile. “I seriously do have to get back to the office though.” \n“Oh, of course, yeah well… It was great to see you”\n“You too Amber, stay in touch, ok?”\n“I will, take care Heather”\nHeather turned away, her hands shaking with rage. Why was she nice to that disgusting excuse for a human? She’d dreamed of finally confronting Amber since leaving school, and that was her chance; gone. Why didn’t she take the chance?\n“Because you’re just passive-aggressive Heather” she answered herself. She pulled a cigarette out and lit it.\n“Fuck 5 months” she said. 5 months meant nothing now. She had just fucked up 10 years.\n\n", "I didn’t bully Jessica in the way you see in the movies. I didn’t stick her head in a toilet. I didn’t take her lunch money. I don’t recall ever branding her with an ugly nickname. I never even wrote a derogatory comment about her on the wall of the girl’s room. There was no violence. There was not even much outward malice.\n\nI ruined Jessica’s childhood by being her friend.\n\nFriend is a loose term of course, since I’m writing this to admit to you that I bullied Jessica all through our formative years. To make it clear how though, I have to accurately set the scene. We met before school even started. At church. We were in all the same little bible school classes, and even our fathers had been friends when they were teenagers. It was a small town. When we hit school, I was a little more plucky and outgoing. I easily made a new set of friends. Jessica was a bit different. She was quieter. She was good at school, but horrible at making friends. Mostly she skated around my circle those first few years. She was always agreeable with whatever we all wanted to do, never had any complaints, just happy to be there. A real easy target. \n\nIt started with little gestures. I stopped asking her to hang over at my house as much on the weekends. Not even because I didn’t want her there, just because I knew how awkwardly not being asked over made her squirm. She didn’t want to seem desperate and ask herself over, but she wanted my company. Or maybe just my trampoline or something, I obviously wasn’t the best company. It was after I realized that her funny little anxieties gave me this much pleasure that more subtle things started turning in my mind.\n\nShe had asthma, so in a game of truth or dare, when asked to name something that truly annoyed me, I imitated her breathing. She pretended like she didn’t get it while others laugh. I wasn’t quite heinous enough of a little bitch to call her out on it, but I knew she knew. \n\nI always made sure that when we played Spice Girls, there were just enough other girls around that Jessica didn’t have one to be. She always said she didn’t mind because she just liked to watch anyway.\n\nWhenever we took group pictures and she tried to sneak out, I made a big deal about how she wasn’t being any fun and was acting weird until she got in the shots even though I know she had self image problems and didn’t feel photogenic. \n\nI’d spring plans on her last minute when I’d let her think the whole time she wasn’t invited just because I knew a lack of planning really set off her anxiety.\n\nI colored her hair with highlighters once in math class because I was bored. I said it’s because I thought it looked neat, and she smiled nervously while everyone whispered about it. I didn’t do it to make it look ugly, just because I knew that people looking at her for any reason made her anxious. \n\nI didn’t understand her anxiety, so for twelve years I stomped on it and made a mockery of it. \n\nThe funny thing of it was, there was never any big ugly scenes between us. She talked to me less and less as the years went on. Near the end of high school, she had found a real flock of friends and even blossomed some. She’d dropped weight, lost her glasses, and was even brave enough to be involved in clubs. I had a similar whirlwind of things going on, but I wasn’t old enough yet to still really see what I’d done.\n\nI started therapy my sophomore year of college. This isn’t a story about me, so I won’t get into all of the issues of my own I uncovered. I only mention it to say that it was during this time when I realized all the things that had sculpted my bad attitude, that I realized Jessica had been one of my victims. Perhaps my biggest. It would still be seven years before I attempted an apology. \n\nWe were Facebook friends. She commented on pictures of my babies, I liked pictures of her adventures. We shared articles, agreed on differing opinions on moronic mutual friends statuses. I even think a few times there were private messages exchanged. When her sister got divorced. When second pregnancy had complications. When a person from our old church was being really narrow minded online and we just needed to vent. A handful of random messages. \n\nI never addressed my wrong doing. She didn’t act wronged. That was my justification. She talked to me as warmly as ever. Several emotiocons and words of encouragement were always mixed in her messages. Surely, if I had damged her so badly she couldn’t act so to me? Surely if I had caused her lasting damage, she wouldn’t be completing degrees, taking trips, dating such cute boys? Her life was fine. Our interaction was fine. I had no reason to apologize.\n\n\t“I’m sorry.”\n\nFor all my justifications, those were still the first words I said to her as soon as her date stepped away to get drinks at our reunion. My husband was playing double duty with the kids at our table, so I was making rounds on my own. I had approached Jessica and her on-and-off boyfriend of the last several years alone. Unlike my husband, he’d graduated with us as well so the three of us chattered about different people in the room. \n\nShe was a clever girl, and I could see in her eyes she already knew my aim, but she pretended for me. She furrowed her brow, pursed her lips.\n\n“Sorry for what, girl?” That was another giveaway that she was feigning casual. She’d never been the type to call a girlfriend “girl.” \n\n“You know what for. For all of it. I was a stupid kid….I didn’t know how to deal with my emotions…so when I saw the ways you didn’t know how to deal with yours….I just had to pick at it. Like a scab.” I shrugged. I’d had a much more eloquent speech planned, but couldn’t get it out. “I’m sorry for making you my scab…and for any wounds I caused you in the process.”\n\nJessica stood for a moment with an uncomfortable look on her face, and then just shook her head. “You’re silly…we always had so much fun.”\n\n I was about to try at the apology again, but just before her boyfriend approached with the drinks it dawned on me. To force her into acknowledging what I’d done and forgiving me for it would have been for me. And I’d grown up too much to be that girl. I wasn’t going to bully Jessica into situations that made her fell awkward or fed her anxiety anymore. I finally got it. \n\n“You’re right…we did have a lot of fun, Jessica.”\n\t\n\t\n", "When John saw him, he knew right away who it was. This was the person who fucked up his life, the person, who 10 years ago, ruined his relationship. It was Tim, John's old bully. Tim noticed John as well, and froze in place. Tim didn't know if he'd ever see John again, after what happened. But Tim felt terrible about it, and he'd always wanted to apologize. What he did, now that he was a rational adult, haunted him. Now was his chance to say sorry. After a couple seconds, he slowly walked up to John, scratching his head. He sat down beside John, and looked away. \"What the fuck do you want?\" John says. Tim doesn't respond for a good 10 seconds. He turns, and says \"Look, I know I did some mean things back then, but I've re-evaluated my life, and I wanted to say...\" He hesitated, and looked to the floor. \"What, say sorry?\" John says angrily, \"Say it to my face, if you really want to say sorry!\". Tim looks up. \"I'm sorry, OK? I feel really awful about what I did.\" John sits up in his seat. \"You ruined my life, I had to take therapy, and I will NEVER be the same.\" Tim turns around in his seat, looking at the floor again. \"Look, I've changed... and I-\" \"Don't give me that crap, you haven't changed one bit.\" Tim turns around, looking desperate. \"Please forgive me! It haunts me what I did to you! I need you to tell me you forgive me! Please!\" John smacks Tim, furious now. Tim has not changed, and he deserves this. \"I will not forgive you, I will let it haunt you. I loved Jessica, and you took her away from me.\" Tim starts to break down, he starts to cry. John was surprised He never expected that going to Starbucks would be so emotional. John, seeing Tim in this miserable state, begins to wonder if he had changed after all. The old Tim would have never cried about anything. Maybe he is a better person. \"I... I'll think about it.\" John says. Tim looks up, a slight smile on his face. \"I have changed, I have a job, a wife, two wonderful kids...\" John turns away, sipping his coffee, decoding the emotions he was feeling. He turns back to Tim. \"What's your wife's name?\" He asks. Tim looks surprised by the question. \"Why do you wanna kno-\" John slams his fist down. \"What is her name?!\" Tim looks away, with a face of regret.\n\n\"Jessica...\"\n\nJohn swings his fist at Tim, knocking him to the ground, and breaking his nose. \"I do not forgive you, you piece of shit!\" John storms out of the Starbucks. He never saw Tim again.\n\n----\n\nThis was my first time writing a prompt! Some constructive criticism would be appreciated!", "I saw her at The Penny, this trendy coffee shop in my town that college kids went to, you just sit around, listen to indie music and drink your chai lattes, all wrapped up in your own bullshit and how unique and special you are. Although you're doing the same thing everybody else in that damned coffee shop is doing.\n\nAnd I saw her.\n\nCassidy Chambers. She had gotten taller and while I was no six-foot- tall-model, everybody was taller than Chambers. She was always the quiet kid, nobody really paid her much attention, that is, until I got my manicured hands on her.\n\nOk ok before you all go calling me a heartless asshole and a bully and whatever else you can think of, allow me to assure you that although I may have been a little shit in high school I'm certainly not nearly as mean now, at least not to other people. Sure I'm still loud, charismatic and very, very obnoxious, but at least I don't bully people anymore right? And although I'm cynical, jaded and an even bigger asshole, just in my own mind, I'm still human. Those thoughts flooded back to me of us, my friends back in high school. Me, teeth whiter, body thinner and spirit meaner, pushing Cassidy over, feigning surprise as her books splayed across the hall, now echoing with the facetious laughter of my Hollister-clad-accomplices. \n\nI felt my face burn with shame as I glanced at her across the café, now sitting alone reading a book comfortably tucked in a booth by the window, looking millions of miles away from humanity and...happy?\n\nI guess some people don't need other people to be happy, unlike me.\n\nI had to say something, I'd feel awful if I knew she was back in town at the same time as me and I never said anything especially after what happened the spring of 2011.\n\nShe sat up, dog-earring the page she was on and getting up, I had to catch up with her. She left quickly and I could see her walking down the street in a brisk pace. I sat up leaving my half finished coffee and scone walking quickly to the door, I yanked it open and found myself outside the café and began running to get to Chambers, who was heading towards the intersection.\n\n\"Hey! Cassidy! Yo Chambers! Heyy! Hey!\" I yelled as loud as I could over the clamour of cars and other voices. She turned just as I reached her, slightly breathless and trying to think of what the hell to say. \"Uhm... H-hey!\" I stammered, having to look up to her for the first time. \"I'm... My name is... I mean I'm Alexia, we went to high school? Class of 2012?\"\n\nShe looked at me and blinked, \"So uh, why are you talking to me?\"\n\nI stood up straight, determined to do this with poise and as much courage I could muster. \"I wanted to...to apologize, if you can remember what I did in high school, it was really shitty and I swear I'm not like that anymore. Anyway,\" I force a smile, turning on the charm, \"I just wanted to apologize, I know I acted absolutely atrocious, and I'm a horrid person.\" I waited for the cliché 'Of course you're not! I always admired you blah blah blah' so I could turn and leave with a clear conscience. But I didn't get what I expected.\n\n\"Ok.\" She turned around to face the crosswalk, no expressions of happiness that I even acknowledged her, no hugs, nothing. I was confused.\n\n\"What d'you mean ok...?\" I said to her back, and when she turned around her face was stone cold, those watery grey eyes hard and pointed chin tilted up, he giant, hooked nose looked even more menacing staring up at it.\n\n\"What? Are you expecting me to fall to my knees and kiss your Jimmy Choo boots just because you apologized? I don't forgive you and I probably never will, you and your little gang of preppy, empty headed assholes have NO idea what you did to my life,\" She spat at me as I shrank back, confidence diminishing. \"You ruined my life and I HATE you for that Alexia Richmond, so don't you ever even think to fucking apologize to me or any of the other 'freaks' you tortured because we won't buy your little pity party BULLSHIT.\" With that she turned around and walked down the street, I felt my stomach tighten as my face drained of colour, I could feel a bitter taste as stumbled back to my car, the fight drained out of me, I had lost.\n\nFor the first time I had lost.\n\nI guess some people don't need other people to be happy, like her.", "I'm Larry Schmidt, a thirty years old and unemployed. I live in my parents couch and drink beer all day. I have been feeling a lot of back pain, so I went to the free clinic. . . Let's just cut to the chase, I was referred to many different specialists and they found that I have a malignant tumor and I need treatment.\n\nI got a call, on a lazy Sunday morning. It was a nurse telling me to come in to the Mercy Hospital, I have an appointment with the oncologist. Sitting in the waiting room reminded me of how easy it was for your ego to be brought down from a hundred to zero. I distracted myself by filling in my information in the sheets I had to sign. \n\n\"Jerry? Dr. Maize will see you now.\" Maize? It couldn't be... It was. It was Gary Maize, the guy who I made high school four years of hell for. The kid who I beat up, shoved into a trash bin, humiliated at every chance I got. Why was I such a dick?\n\nI'm sitting on the bed, the nurse takes my vitals, \"Wow, feeling nervous?\" You have no idea. \"Don't worry, you're in excellent hands.\" The nurse smiles, not unkindly and there's Dr. Maize coming in through the door. I can still see the scar on his upper lip from when I punched him sophomore year. \n\n-To be continued. I want to put the doctor at a place of power and the bully begging for mercy.-", "tap\ntap\ntap\n\nTAP\n\nThe last one left a red slice just under his eye. Tiny. The size of a baseball stitch. He was saying....something. But I didn't care. I watched the cut...fascinated. My breathing started coming in and out. Fast. Excited.\n\nThen, like coming to the brink of a precipice. Not knowing if it would happen. My breath caught. Then.... A single red drop of blood leaked out the side of the cut and trickled an inch or two down his cheek.\n\nMy breath let out with a moan. Amazing. I tapped the knife, popping it on his cheek like a rolled newspaper, against a dog's nose under his other eye wondering if I could replicate the results. Ahh. The magic was gone. Me and that drop had our time together annnnnd now.... He was saying something again. Fuzzy. back ground noise. What was that now?\n\n\"AGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH PL pL PL PLEASE DON't! don't fuck....don't fucking do that again please. GODFUCKINGDAMN--AHHH\"\n\ntap \n\ntap\n\ntap\n\ntap\n\nI was sitting on Cain's lap, legs cocked around him as he sat in that metal chair I had special ordered from Amazon. I had seen enough movies where the dumb whiney bitch breaks the wooden chair she is tied to and screams and then where are you? Chasing this asshole all over your house while she slams doors, throws vases at you, and in general just makes a lot of noise. I hate noise. Nope metal chair. Bolted to the floor. Ropes for tethers? HAH. Chain. Big metal fucking chains. Though they made noise when he rattled them. GOD noise noise noise blah blah blah.\n\n\"Shh.SHh.SHUT SHUT SHUT SHUTTHEFUCKUP\"\n\nCain's thick neck pulsed with stress, but he stopped talking and moving. All I could hear was his breath coming quick and fast and maybe just the hint of a whimper in his voice. A vein was standing out on his neck. Ohhhhhhhh god. Oh god. there was an ocean of blood pumping through that vein. I started to feel excited again. But it had to wait. Not now. this had taken a lot of planning.\n\n\"S'matter Cain? Not happy to see me again?\"\n\n\"Lady, I..I\" \n\nI leaned forward in my seat atop Cain's crotch and circled my arms around his neck. The hunting knife in my left hand ruined the effect. I leaned forward a little too much, putting my chest up to his face and my lips to his ear. \n\n\"You reeeeeally think I'm a lady?\" A girl can't turn down a compliment now can she.\n\n\"Bitch I have never seen you in my LIFE!\"\n\nI leaned back sharply. \"You don't remember?\" \n\nHe doesn't remember. I dismount Cain in a rush and stare at him. My mouth curls in disgust and I can feel bile building. Even that drop of blood coursing down his cheek doesn't put that pressure building in my chest. \n\n\"He doesn't remember. Doesn't remember. You don't. He doesn't. YOU DON'T REMEMBER?!\"\n\n\n I'm aware that I am screeching. But I spent four months sound proofing this basement. It will be fine. I rather like my basement. I took all the lighting and wall paper out. It used to be a bit homey. But I saw enough slasher films to know, you gotta have concrete walls, and a single swinging lamp over your victim's head. That's how pros do it.\n\n\"Mam...I...I just think maybe I am not the right pers-\"\n\n\"FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUCK YOU!\" \n\nI step forward and try to plant a big kick on his chest that will make him topple backward and then I was gonna do this thing where I squatted over his helpless prostrate form and say....something I dunno. But shit, I forgot I bolted the chair to the floor. My little leg makes him grunt a bit and I almost fall on my ass. Looked pretty stupid. Shit. Just..ahh....Go with the speech.\n\n\"Dardennelle's High School Cain! Graduating class of 2001, CAIN REAGAN! I'm Sarah Joelle you moron. Remember yet?\" \n\n\nThat was not my speech. My speech was longer. And I threw out a better insult than 'moron'\n\nRealization dawned on his face, and oh god oh god oh god it felt gooooood. Like watching his face muscles melt into instant regret. His eyes squinted as he read the contours of my face, paired them up to memory. Then to the knife in my hand, the chair he was tied to. The memory of what he did to me.\n\nClick\n\n\"Jesus....Sarah.....That was a decade ago.\"\n\nIt didn't make a SHINK when it went in. Like in the movies. It was silent. The knife just slipped into his side, not deep, and came out. I could feel air, and pressure come out of him. Which was weird. Had not expected that. I decided it was cool. The blood leaked out and made a pretty circle no no a gorgeous circle on his white shirt, just below the ribs. But I hadn't taken my time....it did nothing for me.\n\n\"GREAFKLLFF FUCK! FUCKFUCK FUCKFUUCK. ST Stop stop stopppstopstopstopstop!!!!!\"\n\n\"Remember what you called me asshole?\"\n\nHe whimpers and hangs his head.\n\n\n\n\"I dont want to die. Pleasepleaseplease God. God I don't want to die.\"\n\n I jumped back onto his lap, and land gracefully enough before re wrapping my legs around him. \"remeeeember Cain?\" No answer. That won't do. So I take a fistful of his hair and pull his head back to where he is eye to eye with me. I lay the point of the knife laying flat just an inch below his eye. Same as when I tapped that little cut into his flesh.\n\n\"Remember?\"\n\nHis tears are getting on the blade. But he sniffs and nods once.\n\n\"Say it.\"\n\n\"Sarah...I.\"\n\n\"SAY IT!\" My scream echoes off the basement wall.\n\nhe exhales miserably, his breath stinks. \"Wide load....Wide load Sarah Joelle\"\n\n\"Yeeeeeeessssssss!\"\n\nI jump off of him again and turn so he can have a nice look. \"What about now?\"\n\n\"You.....look......you look really good Sarah.\"\n\n\"Fucking right!\" I examine my own ass. As un wide a load as a Cosmo cover girl could ever want. took me a decade to get that ass. It may be, my most crowing achievement....until tonight that is.\n\n\"Sarah.....listen to me. I was sixteen years old. I was a kid. A fucking kid. I had issues. I had problems and insecurities and things I had no fucking clue how to deal with. I wasn't a good person then, an underdeveloped person. And I took those things out on the people around me. Friends, father....A lot of people were made miserable because I felt bad about myself then. I think probably because I liked you that's why....I'm sorry. Just....I'm sorry.\"\n\nMy ass no longer held any appeal. Why did he say that. The pleasure leaked out of the room. He didn't look appealing anymore. He looked pathetic and I felt the urge to vomit.\n\n\n He fucked it up. It's all fucked up. He fucked EVERYTHING up. Now what the fuck. Now I just have some assholet tied up in my basement making noise.\n\n\"oh....apology accepted.\" I whisper.\n\n\"So you'll let me go?\"\n\n\"oh....I would....but.....\"\n\nThe knife sank in, easier than I thought, just above his heart. Aiming to sever the main pulmonary artery. \n\n\"...I really want to try out my new jigsaw.\"\n\nCain gasped and then started to gurgle and twitch as his eyes blinked furiously and leaked tears down his face. \n\nI gave his cheek a friendly pat.\n\n\"No hard feelings.\"", "Here he lays. The cold son of a bitch named James. \n\nConnor barely comprehends whats going on. The entire funeral has been a blur to him. The faint smell of roses resonates in his head. He cannot understand why all these people are here for James. He doesnt want to understand how anyone could love him. The man who tormented him. The man who called him a pussy and broke his arm. The man who made his life such a living hell that he tried to kill himself. Connor himself is only there to see James as dead as a door nail. \n\nThe priest walks up and says his words. Psalm 23. The Lord is my Shepard, I shall not want....\n\nConnor looks over and sees what he can only assume is family sitting on the opposite side, crying softly. A young woman is near sobbing, holding the 3 year old boy in her lap. Baby James. The motherfucker was so selfish he left a beautiful woman alone with his child.\n\nThe priest ends with the Lords Prayer, and says that James is looking down on them from heaven. Connor doesnt want any god to accept James. James was the manifestation of the devil for years. He was Connors own personal hell on earth.\n\nThe service concludes after James' father says a few nice words. Connor gets up and is about to leave, but something draws him to say something to the wife. He shouldnt. He should leave, because he might say something he regrets. But that was the point. To say something to portray the pain he felt for years. And if James was dead, then his Family could be the one to feel it.\n\nPeople are gathered around Ashlee, James' wife. His little boy, Jonas, is a near spitting image of his dad, even at his young age. \n\nConnor makes his way, waiting for everyone to get done saying things to Ashlee, and finally he has his chance. He walks up and starts \"My name is Connor Manor. I went to school with James and.......\" Ashlee cuts him off.\n\n\"Connor Manor. My name is Ashlee. And on the off chance that you came today, I had something for you.\"\n\nShe hands him an envelope. \"James wrote this the night of the incident. I know what he did to you. Trust me when I say he never forgave himself.\" With that, she walked quickly out of the room, the child pressed firmly against her body, escaping the situation.\n\nConnor leaves and gets into his car. He sits, staring at the envelope marked Connor. He sits for what feels like an hour, cars leaving around him. Finally, he opens and reads-\n\nTo Connor Manor. If you are reading this, then you showed up. Likely to see my dead. Thats fine. I deserve that hate. There is nothing I can say here to make up for what I did. And nothing I can say that will make you forgive me. I was beaten daily by my mother. She tried to make me less of a man. My father did nothing. I was nothing. My mother would beat me physically, and when I got old enough to hold her back, she moved onto emotional beatings. These are what I passed onto you. The beatings, both emotional and physical. And it wasnt right. I knew at the time it wasnt, but I was so clouded by pain and anger that I didnt care. \n\nYou deserve to curse my name. You deserve to beat my body. You deserve to hate me more than anything. \n\nI am sorry. It doesnt change anything and it wont make a damn bit of a difference. But here it is, laid out. I can only imagine you came because you heard that I killed myself. Maybe you thought you would get a good laugh at it because I was so mean to you. Maybe you are mad because I succeeded and you failed at suicide. But regardless, I hope that mostly you felt empathy for me, to some degree, because you are on my mind currently. You, my wife, and my mother are the only ones getting these letters. You are special to me, because you have made me see that there is no getting rid of my pain. I hope you will forgive me, but I cannot care anymore. I cannot wish it. I cannot want it. I cannot do anything anymore. But, deep down right now, I like to think that you are forgiving me. It shows the little humanity left in this world. - James.\n\nConnor sat still, softly crying. He got out of his car, and walked back into the funeral home. James' family was getting ready to leave. He asked if he might see him one more time. He walks up alone to the casket. This would be his only chance, because James was going to be cremated. He places his hand on the lip of the casket, and looks down. James' face looks swollen. Granted he hadn't seen him in 10 years, but its noticeable this close up. He remembers how he had his wisdom teeth taken out and James had called him a cock-sucking chipmunk for a week. He chuckles slightly, and says \"James, I accept your apology. And you can rot in hell.\" ", "This really happened to me.\n\"It was high school graduation day. I was walking with my friends from pub to pub. We were drinking, laughing, having fun. We talked about which university we will try to get in, what will we do with our lives but mostly we laughed at our jokes. \nIn that one pub while my friends went to greet some of their buddies I stayed at the bar drinking orange juice waiting for them, they said they'll be quick and that then we'll go to the park with others from our class. After they left I felt a hand on my left shoulder. I turned around and I saw his face. All of my emotions of happiness and joy were instantly replaced by pure dread and fear... and hate, but mostly dread and fear. \nHe said: \"Hi.\"\nI said: \"Hi.\"\nA second passed. His eyes were kinda teary and then he started: \"Hey... I wanted to tell you something for a long time... You know... you've always been there for me. Always when I needed a friend, always when I needed somebody to talk to, always... And I treated you so badly. Yet still you were kind and good to me and tried to be my friend when I needed one. I'm sorry for all the bad things I did. I really, really am. You were my friend and I hurt you so much... I wish you all best in your life and I really hope you can forgive me one day.\"\n\nI was confused.\nI expected he will laugh at me, hit me, spill his beer over me... do something to provoke me or embarrass me as he always did in the elementary school... almost every single day... But I got an apology.\nSince I was never a boy(man) without words I replied: \"It's okay. I understand you and I forgive you. I wish you too all best in your life and thank you.\"\nWe shook hands. And I expected he would squeeze it really hard, do something while holding my hand... that eerie feeling of expecting him to trick me, do something bad to me just didn't want to go away. My heart was pumping blood like crazy. I was struggling to breathe normal, not to show fear, not to show anxiety. Every second seemed like an eternity and I waited for it all to end. I just didn't want to be next to him.\nAnd we shook hands like two mature guys. \nHe pat me over the shoulder and said: \"Thank you for still being kind.\" And he smiled with tears in his eyes. \nHe sat with his friends in the corner and my friends came to pick me up to go to the park. \nWe looked in the eyes one more time and smiled to each other and then I left with my friends.\nWhen I left the fear and the dread were almost gone... and I felt sorry for him. I always knew he was good beneath all that bullying and violence he did to me... Except one part of me never ever wanted to see him, hear from him or be next to him... Even when he was apologizing to me.\n\nHowever I felt glad he apologized. But that never changed anything for me, however I do hope it helped him. \n\nI had a great time that day. And I didn't tell anybody about that. That was my day, my celebration of high school graduation and I enjoyed it with my friends all day and almost all night. \"\n\n\n", "Eugene pushed his cart slowly down the aisle, staring disappointedly at the mops and buckets on display. Eugene was short, with thick glasses and oily black hair. \n\n“Brooms,” he said to himself, “All that’s left on the list is ‘brooms’ and ‘baby formula’.” He walked forward, his cart’s wheels squeaking slowly.\n\nAround the corner, another cart’s wheels were squeaking rapidly. Someone was running. They turned the corner into Eugene’s aisle.\n\nCRASH! Eugene was pushed backwards, pinned against his cart.\n\nThe other cart fell sideways, knocking over a row of mops.\n\n“Aaah!” the other shopper screamed, laying in an enormous heap on the marble floor tiles.\n\nEugene freed himself from behind his cart. “Are you okay?” he asked the other shopper.\n\nThe other shopper stood up. He was seven feet tall with broad shoulders and platinum blonde hair.\n\n“Rex?” Eugene asked. “Rex, is that you?”\n\nRex stood up, clutching his arm in pain. “Eugene?” he said, “From Little River High School?”\n\n“Go Otters!” Eugene said, throwing both hands in the air. He was about half of Rex's height.\n\nRex was unenthusiastic, “Yeah,” he said, “Go otters.” He half-heartedly raised his hands to a height that Eugene would never be able to reach.\n\n“So,” Eugene said, “How are you Rex? It’s been like forever!”\n\n“I’m in pain,” Rex said, “I was just involved in a shopping cart accident.”\n\nEugene’s look of pleasure quickly turned to concern. “Oh no,” he said, “Are you okay? Should I go get someone?”\n\n“I’m fine,” Rex snapped, “I can take a little pain.” He gave Eugene a dirty look. “You, of all people, ought to know that.”\n\nEugene’s jaw dropped. “Oh Rex,” he said, “I’m sorry about what I did back then. I was a different person in high school. Very troubled.”\n\n“Very troubled?” Rex said, “Sounds about right. That’s how you made me feel!”\n\n“Oh you’re right,” Eugene said, “You have every right to be upset with me. I’m sorry I hacked your girlfriend’s phone and put those nude pictures on the internet.”\n\n“I wasn’t nude,” Rex said, “I was wearing her panties.”\n\nEugene scratched his head. “I think I did it multiple times actually,” he said, “One time you were nude, one time with the panties.”\n\n“You posted nudes of me on the internet?” Rex said. “Are you kidding me?”\n\nRealization dawned on Eugene. “No,” he said. “I uh… was mistaken. That never happened.”\n\n“You’re lying,” Rex said, “I can tell when you lie. You did it to me often enough!”\n\n“Okay,” Eugene said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you didn’t know. It probably seems painful to find out about this now, but that was years ago. It’s over.”\n\n“I hate you,” Rex said, “You turned my life into shit.”\n\n“Oh Rex,” Eugene said pityingly, “I was terrible to you. You didn’t deserve that.”\n\n“She left me,” Rex said, “When everyone saw the photos. She said she was embarrassed.”\n\n“I’m sorry Rex,” Eugene said.\n\n“She was the only girlfriend I’ve ever had!” Rex screamed.\n\n“No,” Eugene said, smiling, “Come on Rex. I’m sure you’ve had dozens. Big strong guy like you? You have a different girl every weekend I bet.”\n\n“I don’t!” Rex screamed, “You gave me confidence issues!” He collapsed into tears.\n\n“Don’t cry Rex,” Eugene said, “Don’t cry big guy. It’ll all be alright.”\n\nHe looked down at the tall, broad-shouldered, beautiful man laying on the tiles next to the plungers. He sighed with pity.\n\nBut then he felt something tugging at him, deep inside. Something that had been sleeping for a while. Something he had thought he’d gotten rid of. He thought about his own short, fat wife waiting for him at home, with her squashed nose and hairy armpits. And about their short-fat baby which was equally unfortunate-looking. They would never have what Rex had. None of them would ever be able to win a sports match and receive a kiss from someone beautiful as a prize. None of them would ever be able to take their shirts off and hear applause. None of them would ever be able to hold their heads high while exercising in public.\n\nHe couldn’t stop himself. He slid his cameraphone out of his pocket and fit Rex’s hulking, sobbing form into the frame. That bastard. He was just so damn tall! It wasn’t fair! \n\nBEEP! Eugene’s camera flashed.\n\nHe posted the image.\n\n#HarderTheyFall \n\n\n", "\"Hey how's it goin?\" \n\nThey slowly recognized each other. \n\n\"Holy shit, tiny Pete! How ya been man?\"\n\n\"I've been doing well. And you?\"\n\n\"Can't complain really.\"\n\n\"Where you working at?\"\n\n\"I just work for the waste disposal department right now, been there for a few months. My last job laid me off. How about you?\"\n\nPeter grinned ever so lightly as he heard Brett. \n\n\"I'm a senior software engineer and analyst for a tech firm here in the city.\"\n\n\"Oh nice man!\"\n\n\"Yeah, it's alright I suppose! Hey, I heard about your mom, I'm sorry that happened. How are you holding up?\"\n\n\"Well, I'm taking it day by day. I can't seem to accept it, but I'm not gonna stop looking for that motherfucker.\"\n\n\"Do they have any info? Anything I can help with?\"\n\n\"None. No witnesses, no car color or type, not a god damn thing. But I'll find him. If I do nothing else.\"\n\nIt had been weeks. The police were skeptical that the driver would be found. \n\n\"Hello is this Brett James?\" \n\nThere was a lot of noise in the background. Chatter, phones ringing, and papers rustling added an orchestra behind the bold, scratchy voice on the line. \n\n\"Yep. What can I do for ya?\"\n\n\"Well son, I'm gonna need to come downtown\"\n\nHis features darkened a bit.\n\n\"For what exactly?\"\n\n\"To identify your mother's body. She was involved in a hit and run and she was determined dead at the scene\"\n\nThe voice was edgy, almost impatient. Like that of someone who gave bad news often. Brett slumped down in a chair and gazed out the window of his double wide into the dark sky above. \n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nSilence ensued. \n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"Okay... Just give me like half an hour.\"\n\nPeter noticed that Bret had zoned out. No doubt reliving a moment in the past. \nPeter had gone through those moments when his mom passed in middle school. Brain cancer. \n\n\"Yeah, they'll find him. I don't doubt it!\"\n\n\"Oh for sure. And if they don't, I will.\"\n\nSilence became their admission to the past. Brett always gave Peter a hard time back in high school, and like many other bullies he grew up to realize how fucked up he had been. There were things he certainly couldn't be forgiven for (ripping up pictures of Peters deceased mother, for example), but he had to try and bury the hatchet. \n\n\"Hey... Look man, I just wanted to say. I'm sorry for high school man, I was a real dickhead and you didn't deserve that.\"\n\n\"Oh man, it's totally cool. I didn't take it too seriously, and I grew up alright.\"\n\n\"Yeah but I took it too far. All that shit I said about your mom, and, and those pictures. I didn't realize how badly that would hurt.\"\n\n\"It's cool. No big deal really.\"\n\n\"Well, again, I'm sorry. I can't handle the loss of my mom sometimes and I don't even have someone in my face day in and day out pushing me, yelling at me, and attacking my mother. I get it now... Better late than never I guess.\"\n\n\"Yeah for sure. Well, I'll see you around I guess. Keep in touch.\"\n\n\"Are you sure man? We could go grab some lunch or something.\"\n\n\"No, I've gotta go pick my car up at the shop. They were waiting on a few parts to come in and it should be ready now.\"\n\n\"Oh, okay. Well, I'll keep in touch man.\" \n\nAs they walked their separate ways, a smirk briefly lit up Peter's face as he remembered something Bret had said in high school. \n\n\"Why are you such a bitch? She's dead, get over it. She's never coming back, and you can't do anything about it. For fucks sake, if my mom died I wouldn't be crying about that shit.\"\n", "He had been struck with the sudden urge for a cold, sweet, plump peach. He was walking along 8th avenue when all he could think about, all he could possibly need in that moment, was a peach.\n\nHarold walked to the green grocer on 37th street. He might be a little late coming back from his lunch break. But, it was Friday. His boss would probably come back to the office two or three beers deep and not notice.\n\nIt was a small place. Three or four aisles of pretty standard vegetables and fruits. All good quality though. That's why Harold like the place. It was close to his office and he could pick up some greens if he needed to on his way home.\n\nHe walked in, looking down at his phone, and made his way to where he knew the peaches would be. He grabbed a few that were too firm until he found one in the middle of the pile that bounced back slowly when he pressed into it leaving a little print of his index finger.\n\nHis water bottle was empty so he went to get one out of the fridge near the front door, where the counter was.\n\n\"Harold.\"\n\nHe didn't pay attention at first. He probably had misheard.\n\n\"Harold. Harold Greenburg.\"\n\nHarold looked around and there behind him was a man just a bit taller than him, which was impressive, since Harold was almost six foot. He was wearing a reflective yellow vest. His stained white t-shirt underneath barely kept his belly in. He was unshaven and wearing dirty blue jeans tucked into ankle high work boots. \n\nHarold, in his skinny jeans and Oxford shirt, stood there for a second, running the peach along his fingers, its cold escaping, looking at the man.\n\n\"Vince?\" He said after too long a pause for anyone watching to think these men every knew each other.\n\"Vince DiNapoli?\"\n\n\"Yeah! It's me! I haven't seen you in...\"\n\n\"Since high school.\"\n\n\"Yeah!\"\n\nHarold eyed him once more. His skin tensed up and instinctually he looked around to make sure there was no one behind him. No trash can he could be put into and rolled in. No grassy field where he could be knocked down and kicked. No '97 Ford Mustang driving too fast in front him. \n\n\"Hi, Vince. You work in the city?\" Harold said finally. \n\n\"Yeah, for ConEd actually. I work on a lot of underground electrical stuff. You know? Feed wires that go into buildings. That sort of stuff. But what about you? Tell me!\" he said going to pat Harold on the arm.\n\nHarold winced. \n\n\"I, uh. I'm a writer. For a website. Pop-culture bullshit. Lists full of GIFs and stuff. You know?\" \n\n\"That's great man. That's great.\"\n\n\"Well, listen, I uh, I need to get back to the office.\" \n\n\"You work around here?\" Vince said as a walkie-talkie attached to his belt went off. He pushed down hard into a button to silence it, and crossed his arms while looking back at Harold.\n\n\"Yeah, on 34th.\"\n\nHarold finally walked to the counter to pay.\n\n\"Hey man.\" Vince said as Harold got his wallet out.\n\n\"Hey, I'm sorry I was uh, uh, such a shithead to you when we were kids.\"\n\nHarold stopped, put a five dollar bill on the counter and turned to Vince.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" he said taking a bite from it.\n\n\"It's just. I don't know. I was a real asshole to you, when we were kids. You know? I mean, what the fuck did I know? I was an angry little shit who was flunking out of high school.\"\n\nHarold swallowed the first bite of his peach. He hadn't even noticed his change on the counter behind him. The man behind the register watched the two of them, the only other people in the store.\n\n\"I was a real fuck. And uh, I'm sorry.\"\n\nHarold took another bite of his peach to buy time.\n\n\"Maybe, maybe this is like fate or something. I've been going to A.A. for awhile now. Maybe this is god helping me out, because Harold, Harold I'm on step nine.\"\n\n\"Step nine?\" Harold said. \n\n\"Apologizing. I mean, I wasn't a drunk when we were in high school, but, I still think that uh. I still think I owe you an apology.\"\n\nHarold was halfway through his peach.\n\nHe looked at Vince. He took the change from the counter. He turned towards the door and started to speak as he walked away.\n\n\"I gotta get back to the office.\"" ]	13
	[WP] You object to the marriage but you keep silent. Why?	[ "\"my dearest friend, I kept silent because i thought a great deal about the consequences of such an act.\" I said.\n\"And what consequences might those be?\" My friend didn't know the reason why I would want to object, but that didn't stop him.\n\"Well, if I objected, I'd have to disclose my reasons for it. I'd be embarrassed, would have to run out of the church and miss the rest of that beautiful ceremony. It was beautiful, don't you agree?\"\n\"Yes, yes, delightful, indeed. But I don't even know what your reason is that causes you such an embarrassment.\"\n\"Oh, you don't think I will tell you, do you?\"\n\"All right, don't tell me. I'm going to get a little something to nibble on.\"\n\"It's not a good reason, Jack.\" I screamed to the moving figure. I shook my head at the thought of such a reason to deny two loving people the right to get married. I laughed softly, thinking how many lives I could have ruined by saying \"I Object\". You see, what i knew about the bride and groom was of little importance to me, but to them... \n\"So if it's not a good reason, you did well not to say anything. But what keeps you from telling me?\" Jack came bearing all sorts of salty treats and other kinds of entrees on top of a white napkin.\n\"I said it before: embarrassment.\" \n\"Oh please...\"\n\"All Right! You really want to know?\"\n\"YES!\"\n\"Know all that I know and am not willing to give up lightly?\"\n\"Yes, please! For the love of God, please!\"\nI sighed.\n\"Don't ask me how I know this, but just believe that I burden you now with the truth. The groom... prefers men.\"\nJack's face turned red, his eyes seemed to want to wander of their sockets.\n\"Wait there's more. The bride...let's just say we should call her groom number 2. I don't know if the groom groom knows, but i don't think that poses as a problem for him. What might come as a problem when found is the fact that the \"bride\" is having an affair with the groom groom's sister.\"\nHe sat down at a nearby chair I hadn't even seen. Placing his head in the middle of his knees and letting his arms rest on his legs, he stayed in that position for about 5 minutes. when he got up, he looked at me, mouth open.\n\"Glad you didn't say anything.\"\n\"Yes.\"\n\"No, you don't understand. I'm having an affair with HIM.\"\n", "One o’clock. It was one o’clock in the afternoon according to the black watch he gave me. He told me I had until two o’clock, and then he is going to pick me up and take me home. One hour. That’s all the time I have left. \n\nThere is this sense of déjà vu around the entire affair. The bridesmaids are hurrying about the halls with flowers and coffee mugs, making sure that today’s events went without a hitch. They all wore the same light pink dress with a bow around the waist. Last time it was powder blue. \n\nIn their general busyness they did not even notice me walking in the hallway of the church. It is probably for the best that they didn’t. Julie, her sister, is the maid-of-honor. She seems a bit happier this time around than last, but I can’t really blame her. Julie never was a big fan of me, so she was less than excited about our union at the time. Years have past since then, though. \n\nI follow behind Julie, who is carrying a pair of white heels in her left hand and was chatting away on the cell phone in her right hand. “Where is Daddy? Has the car gotten them from the hotel yet? They should be here by now!” she exclaimed to the poor soul on the other end that had to listen to her shrill voice. I guess some things just don’t change over the years. She runs left through a doorway and begins to close the door behind her, but she left a crack just wide enough for me to peak inside.\n\nShe took what little breath I had away. The sun reflects from her white gown, encompassing her in this radiance that can only be described as divine. She smiles softly at her sister, and refuses the coffee that her sister extends towards her. “You must be crazy if you think I will risk spilling that on my dress” she said lightheartedly. Looking down from her phone at the coffee, Julie replies, “Didn’t really think that through. More for me I guess,” and she takes a big sip before continuing the conversation on her phone. \n\nJulie continues chatting away with whoever is on the other end of the line over by the window, as I stand astonished peaking through the crack in the door. She sits peacefully staring at herself in the mirror. Years have passed, but she looks just like she did when she and I wed all those years ago. We were both young and naïve then, but we had a great thing going. The love between us was strong, even when I couldn’t be strong enough for her. Lost in her own thoughts, probably thinking about the ceremony, the reception, the future, I suppose. An unwanted smile finds its way on my face almost by instinct. I wanted to be angry, but I always felt this unadulterated joy just seeing her happy. \n\nI heard steps coming towards me down the hallway. Quickly I dash around the corner of the hallway and peak around to see whom it was. It was Ruth, her mother. She was wearing a similar light pink dress, except hers was a bit longer and had sleeves. She looked over at the corner where I was hiding before walking into the room where she was getting ready. Did she see me? What if she saw me? I look down at my watch again. One-fifteen. I sigh with a sense of relief and disappointment. There is no way she could have seen me, even though I wish she did.\n\n“Sorry about the delay, dear!” I heard come from the room. “We should have been here an hour ago, but the driver had the wrong address. I told you we should have hired the first company we looked into,” Ruth explained. \n\n“No use worrying about it now. You guys are here and that is all that matters.” She was always wonderful at looking for the silver lining, even when I couldn’t see it. She finally stood up, and I got to get a look through the crack in the door of her in entirety. Years have passed since she and I were together, but she looked as youthful and filled with life as ever. The guy who gets to marry her is the luckiest man on the planet, and that thought brings this wave of heat all around me. \n\n“It’s time to go dear. Your father is waiting.”\n\nDammit! The ceremony is about to start! Realizing that the amount of time I had left was running out I rush down the hall towards the sanctuary. I make it to the back of the sanctuary to find all the seats filled. There is a space between two large flower pieces in the very back of the room. I can watch the entire ceremony from back there without being notice. Not like that mattered. \n\nThe church was much smaller than the one in which we wed all those years ago. Looking around I estimated that about fifty people were in attendance; of those present it was mainly family and very close friends. I look to the front near the altar and see him, the man she decided to spend the rest of her days. I spent a lot of time imagining his general appearance and personality. Naturally, my estimations were a lot more harsh and disparaging than reality. He was a tall, slender man. He was not overly attractive, but he had kind eyes and a warm smile. I wanted him to be a nightmare, but instead I found a man who looked like he was exactly what she needed. \n\nThe organ began to play, and procession began walking through the front door. The bridesmaids in their light pink dresses walked down the white carpet walkway with a small bouquet in their right hand and their left arm around a groomsman. After the bridesmaid followed a toddler dressed in a pink tutu with a small basket of flower petals. She must have been the sister of the flower girl at our wedding. Once the flower girl made it to the front of the church all of the people in attendance stood. My eyes dashed back to the entrance where I saw her with her father, Murray. While she looks like she did not age a bit, he was not quite as fortunate. Once a strong, towering man, Murray now was hunched over with a cane. He had a big smile on his face, regardless of his present condition. Everyone here seemed to be so happy, except for me. \n\nShe made it to the front with her father and was handed over to him. The audience took their seats, and the ceremony began. I quickly look down at my watch. One forty-five. I had fifteen minutes left, and I found myself frozen in the moment. What can I possibly do with fifteen minutes, knowing that no matter what I do or what I say it will not make a damn bit of difference?\n\nI need to say something. I need to say anything at all. The words of their vows announcing their undying love for one another flows out of their mouths with ease, and I cannot manage to get a syllable out from between my lips. My black watch read one fifty-five now. I have five minutes. I need to do something, now. \n\nSprinting from my spot in the back wall I run over to the aisle. No one paid me a bit of attention. Everyone looked ahead at the soon-to-be man and wife. I opened my mouth expecting something to come out. A word. A syllable. A sound. Anything.\n\nNothing. \n\nI stood in the middle of the aisle, and my black watch read one fifty-eight. Please, please look at me. Please look at me, I plead to her in my head. At that moment, I thought she heard me. She looked over at the aisle, and in that moment we made eye contact. Her ocean blue eyes looked right at me. Right into my soul. Tears rolled down my eyes as I tried shouting again. \n\nNothing. \n\nShe wasn’t looking at me. She couldn’t see me at all. She turned back to her new love and said her I do. There was a dip and a kiss to seal their fate. They were man and wife. Everyone stood and began to applaud the new couple, and beeping sound comes from my wrist. \n\nIt was two o’clock. \n\nNo…not yet. I need more time. I need more time! \n\nThe door to the church opens from behind me, and two in white suits open walk towards me. They see me. Finally, someone who could see me. They help me off my feet and we begin walking out the door. Walking outside I look around to notice the clear blue sky and the sun shining bright all around. It is a beautiful day for a wedding. \n\nHe stood before me in his white suit. His wrinkles on his face were bunched around his raised eyebrows. His eyes glistened with pity. \n\n“Are you glad you came here today? Is this what you wanted?” he asked rhetorically. \n\n“All I wanted was for her to see me one last time. I want her to know that I am so sorry.”\n\n“You knew that couldn’t happen. You know what you are. Now come on, it is time to go home.”\n\nI found myself in the back of a white SUV with him. He smiled at me knowing that I needed his support right now. I will find a lot of support where we live now. The SUV was put into drive and we made our way down the road. I am sure the rest of the angels will be eager to hear my story about being back in the world of the living. \n", "She looked beautiful walking down the aisle, lilac dress fluttering lightly in the breeze. The early afternoon sun splashed across her straw-blonde hair, it's radiance rivaled only by her innocent smile. She paid extra careful attention to her shoes as she walked, trying her best not stumble. All eyes were on her but if she was nervous she didn't show it. A small trickle of rose petals nipped at her heels all the way to the front where she took her place beside the bridesmaids.\n\nNext came her mother, dressed in white.\n\nI never should have let it happen. It doesn't matter if it was one night or a thousand nights when the consequences are life-long. I felt nothing for her, especially after she kept it from me for so long. I wished she hadn't come clean. I wished that night had never happened. The groom's blissful ignorance seemed so much much appealing.\n\nI caught myself just before shouting out a few times during the ceremony, particularly during the vows. Trust is a cornerstone of love. Without it you have nothing. But, I remained silent. I clapped when everyone else clapped. I shook hands with a few of the familiar faces in the neighboring chairs at the end. I played the part but I wasn't there for them.\n\nI was there for the flower girl, her deep blue eyes reflections of my own. As much as I hated to admit it, she was happier where she was, with them. I had nothing to give but love, something she already had." ]	3
	[WP] Relate an actual experience you've had using third person narrative.	[ "a man sat at his computer, ready to get back in the saddle of /r/WritingPrompts, he found one that he thought would be interesting, something about telling a true story about yourself from a 3rd person narrative, since he'd just come back from 2 months volunteering abroad he would have a hard time choosing just one story to tell! but, before he even began to type he say another story, the only answer to this prompt so far, and he started to read. as he read he became more and more horrified, this boy was being robbed! actually robbed and threatened, his life was in danger! as the man read on the story went from bad to worse, and the tension turned to dire horror as someone pulled into the driveway and the robbers panic, desperate men do desperate things, and our reader's hear might have stopped for a second as he read those two words: stab him. how anyone could do this to another human being is beyond thought, but the man pressed on, he almost wanted to stop, 'how does this end?' he wondered, 'this kid can't die, he wrote the story, but is he crippled? writing from a hospital? could it even be possible that this ends well at all?' \nbut, as fate would have it the story did end well, about as well as it could anyways, the man breathed a very heavy sigh of relief as the men ran before they could hurt anyone.\n\nbut now after reading such a traumatic and personal story, all of his stories seemed paltry, 'what would i write about?' he said to himself, 'my boring life on farms?, benign sight seeing trips? the horrors of flying out of the us?, no, none of that could possible follow such a story, but then what can i write? what story could i tell that would also show respect to this boy and his own story?' that, that was the moment our reader had an idea, and he stopped being a reader, and became a writer instead.", "He stands. He organizes something. He waits. Hours pass. She won't leave her room. In a weird way he's alright with that. It feels familiar. He waits. He's irritated with her. Irritated that she's irritated and doing irritating things. He'll do irritating things too, just to show her. What is she doing in there? Why won't she come out? What's so interesting about being alone? He tries to be alone but he's not very good at it, he always gets bored. He needs to move around. She should come out and they can move around together.\n\nShe's gotten a lot colder, a lot more distant than she used to be. She was always sort of distant, but now even more so. And more sure of herself. Sure and distant. She looks bored all the time.\n\nHe's going to make some sounds. Maybe they'll alert her and she'll realize he's waiting. There's no response, as usual, just the intermittent tapping of a keyboard. Why is she being mean to him? He wants to ask her but he never will. She might just tell him then.\n\nShe might say some of the mean things she's said before. How he's clingy, boring, empty. How they're just roommates. How she really can't emotionally support him like this. With the tacit subtext of get a life already. Has she seen how empty he is? How flat he is? Has she truly regarded his existence, so utterly devoid of meaning?\n\nHe moves the coat hangers around the closet rack, making more sounds, distressed by these thoughts. The continuous clink of hangers for an hour now. This way he gets to stand right outside her door and listen to her.\n\nShe sort of looks disgusted with him at times. No. That's not what that means. She doesn't notice. She always working on something. Some big idea he never completely grasped. It reminds him of his mom. The way she averts her eyes. He knows how to be ignored. It doesn't dissuade him when he was already so dissuaded to begin with.\n\nShe's trying to shake him off, but he'll hold on. He always has.", "Jack heard the knock on the front door. He wasn't expecting anyone this evening before his parents came home. Thinking it was just someone flogging vacuum cleaners or the Jehovahs, he went down stairs to answer the door. The all black outfits should have been a dead giveaway.\n\nHe answered the door to see two guys, one with his back turned while the other looked forward smiling. \n\n'Hi there mate, do you need any window cleaning done?' He asked, trying to remain calm.\n\n'No, we just had them cleaned.' Jack replied, used to the old spiel. \n\n'Oh, alright. Are your parents in to talk?' the man continued.\n\n'No, they're out but they should be back soon.' \n\n'How long do you think?'\n\n'About 30 minutes probably.' Jack answered, sensing that something may be amiss here.\n\n'Alright then.' \n\nAs Jack closed the door, the man slammed his foot in the way and pushed front, grabbing Jack by the throat and pinning him up against the wall. The man with his back turned followed, revealing a crowbar and a masked face. The first man pulled in close, Jack could see his eyes darting about the room.\n\n'Listen here prick, we're going to rob your house now. Keep your head down and don't look at us. If you do as we say, we won't have any problems. Now get it the other room. Now.' Jack was dragged into the other room, his head down and trying to remain calm. The adrenaline hit him like a steam train, his brain going into full self preservation mode. Everything seemed more vivid as he feared for his life.\n\n'Listen mate, it's nothing personal but if you fuck with us, we will have to hurt you.' The masked man said, his crowbar looming over Jack's head. Jack lay flat on the floor as the two men argued above him. \n\n'Now, we're going to lead you through every room in the house and you're going to tell us where everything is. If you look up or lie to us, I will whack you.' The first man shouted, trying to keep his plan in order. He picked Jack up by his collar, forcing him upstairs and into his parents' bedroom. Keep calm, Jack thought, just don't cry and do as they say, you will be fine. They ripped the room apart, searching for anything at all valuable.\n\n'Where's the safe? Where's your mum's jewellery?' The masked man said, checking to make sure Jack kept his eyes to the floor.\n\n'We don't have a safe. My mum hardly has any jewellery.' Jack pleaded, trying to keep the men calm.\n\n'Why are you lying to me you twat? Where is the jewellery? Where is the money?' The unmasked man yelled, pulling drawers out and tearing through clothes.\n\n'I'm telling the truth! We don't have much.' \n\n'If you are lying to me, I will hurt you. I'm not joking.' He yelled, moving to the next room. They tore that room apart too, finding a gadget or two but nothing of great value. The blood roared in Jack's ears, as the burglars shouted to keep his head down. They pushed him back down the stairs, entering the TV room and ripping out all of Jack's games and DVDs. \n\n'Get a bag for this. Now.' The masked man ordered. Clearly, these two hadn't come prepared. Jack ran upstairs and grabbed a bag he could recognise. At least he had a chance of stopping them after the fact. They piled all of their hoard together, one of them trying to call their getaway driver to escape. The unmasked man ripped the phone from the socket, stopping Jack's chance at getting help.\n\n'Now listen here. You go lock yourself in a room for a hour till we get away and we won't come back and hurt you. Understand?' The unmasked man said, getting ready to leave. His triumph was interrupted by lights on the drive.\n\n'Shit, the parents are here.' The masked man yelled, dropping his bag of loot.\n\n'How do we get out? Tell us now!' the unmasked man shouted, pinning Jack against the wall again.\n\n'The back door has got bolts on it, you'll get caught by the time it's done.' Jack replied, his breathing accelerating.\n\n'Fuck fuck fuck!' The unmasked man yelled, kicking the ripped out phone.\n\n'We need to go now man.' The other burglar said, dropping Jack's games and grabbing a smaller bag. The unmasked man panicked and went for the door.\n\n'Get the knife and stab him.' The unmasked man said, a figure approaching the door. Jack pleaded again, his brain in full survival mode. The figure looked in, seeing the distressed scene.\n\n'We need to go, just grab a bag.' The masked man said, going for the door as well.\n\n'I said stab him!' The unmasked man screamed, pushing past the door and the figure standing in front of it. The burglars ran into the night, clutching two measly bags and leaving the rest of the spoils behind.\n\nThe laundry man stood in the doorway, realising the extent of the damage and ran for help. Jack was left standing, his hands shaking as he desperately called 999 on his mobile. At least he didn't cry." ]	3
	[WP] An NPC in an MMO has a quest to give, but hasn't given it out in so many expansions and updates that he's forgotten what it was...	[ "I frantically dig through my chain mails pocket. \"Let me see what we've got here\", I mutter under my breath while being eyed suspiciously by a green, hunked over orc.\n\n He's dragging a flintstone-axe through the sand that nearly disappears in his paw. His bare chest has a pale, green-ish tone and is not as muscular as you would expect it to be. No comparison to the high-level characters in the capital to the west. Orcs are square, muscular, green, dangerous, hot-tempered and not very smart. Apart form the last one all of this hardly applies to the specimen facing me.\n\n\"Just a... urgh... second\", I murmur while I push a rotten carcass to the side, squish some herbs and find myself grabbing what feels like a parchment. Upon pulling it out I realize I just found some desertraiders loincloth. +3 points on endurance. Someone running around in sandstorms, only dressed in one of these surely could use that bonus, I suppose. I dig through countless leatherpants of true sight, a sea of hatchets of the forge and a few flintstones. Everytime someone completes my quest I will grant them an item. I always drop the leatherpants. Everyone needs leatherpants.\nBut wait - where did that damned note go? I had it somewhere in here... \n\nIt's not really my fault for not remembering what I was supposed to be requesting from the new players. With the new expansion nobody hardly ever passes by. Or asks me for a quest. That's even more rare. But here he is - a presumably level 3 orc, all ghillied up. \n\nThis is no experienced player. If he was he wouldn't be leveling on this route. I'm allowed to hardly grant any experience points, the rewards are sub-par and my quest... Well. That's the problem. I can't remember it for the love of my programmer.\n\n\"I've got it, i've got it...!\", I exclaim, waving around some old, dirty cloth.\n\n>\n\n\"Get going\n\nYour service for the tribe will require you to storm into battle. Show this character that you have what it takes.\n\nRequirements\n\nTake a step forward. \n\nRewards\n\n15 EXP\n\nLeatherpants of True-Sight\"\n\n>\n\nI hope nobody will notice...\n\n", "Nobody comes by this house anymore. Back when the world started, I used to receive an endless supply of adventurers, some seeking wealth, some glory, and some just seeking distraction from the mundane. I had a task for them, I always did. Something that gave them purpose and swelled their hearts with duty. But, like all things, that changed. The torrent shrank to a trickle, then to a few drops, then to nothing at all. I can't get outside, I've tried the windows and the doors, they won't respond to my touch. Every item in my room, my prison, is caked in an oppressive layer of dust. I can see out the windows, to the landscape that stretches before me, just out of reach. Over time it too changed, the rolling hills grew sharper, more defined, architecture sprang up where nothing but barren land stood prior. My prison didn't change. The same drab brown furniture and flickering candle were my only solace. I too failed to change with the world. I'd catch sight of another being from time to time, far off in the distance. I'd shout and bang on my windows, but they never heard me. I grew tired and bitter, eventually my flesh fell from my bones and I remained a skeleton of my former self. I lost hope. \n\nAn eternity later, I see a man approach. He is festooned with beautiful armor and weaponry. Even better, he is approaching my prison! I can't wait to share with him my story, my endless torment, and to finally again grant purpose and duty to the hearts of man. He swings the door open, and the sunlight casts a brilliant halo around his head. I run to grab him and hold him tight, I can't lose my humanity again. His mace catches me in the chest, had I any flesh left, I would have bled. Instead I shattered to pieces. My skull rattled around the floor for a time, coming to rest facing a dismal corner. Here I knew I would remain forever, forgotten. The cold floor didn't phase me, for I was warmed from within by a overwhelming sense of peace. I had given my final quest, and could finally rest." ]	2
	[WP] Adam and Eve never ate the apple. Several generations later, their descendants ate from the tree and now the population is split in two: the sinners and the pure ones.	[ "My parents are away at a council meeting again, leaving me to baby-sit. Mark and Luke aren't babies, they're just assholes. Their assholiness is my problem, I get that—I get an allowance for dealing with it.\n\nI don't get why we put up with the zombs. Wandering around naked, fucking in the shrubbery, shitting in the gutters. Why is everyone so precious about them? We work day on day on day keeping them fed. I worked nine hours in the garden today, just to keep them fed. Now I'm home looking after the brats while the parents attend a purity maintenance meeting.\n\nFuck this. The little assholes aren't stupid like the zombs. They're not going to walk in to traffic if I turn my back for five minutes. I'm off to cut a hole in that fence around that fucking apple tree. I'm going to fix everything.", " March 15, 2092\n Lagos, Finergon\n\n ---\n\n L. O’Ceal,\n\n Geraldine is dead.\n\n I am out on the grass field we once played in, you know, the \n field with the big silver boulder and the little shaded spot \n underneath just large enough for the two of us when we were \n kids. The field is full of flowers. Purple ones, ringed with petals \n like lions manes and dancing, dashing, glistening in the midnight \n moonlight. The moon is big tonight. A great hole in the sky, a \n perfect cookie-cut tear. I wish you were here to see this with me.\n\n The Pures got to Geraldine. They cut her open with a fish knife, \n spilled her blood on the rock I now lay next to, and shouted, \n “Sinners die for our purity.” For what reason must we die? Are \n we truly sinners, our Adam from the Dawn biting the fruit that \n was forbidden to us? Us? What makes those murderers any \n better than the clothes they wear, that disgusting yellow silk, \n tannin bibs they adorn before feasting on pig ribs and black \n blood pies. We’ve all said it too many times. There’s not much \n else to say.\n\n Meet me in three weeks time. You know where.\n\n Signed,\n C. Boyle\n" ]	2
	[WP] An ordinary, 30 year-old human has been immortal since the year 1,014 A.D. Now, he/she is working in corporate America looking back on his/her millennium in existence.	[ "\"Hey Arthur, did you get that email to Leonard yet? He expects the report by the end of the day today. I know you have a lot on your plate, but you know this is important.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" I said, half awake. \"You know today is my birthday\" I added, a matter-of-factly. \n\nCaught off guard, Reggie turned on a time. \"Oh, happy birthday.\" he said, almost putting effort into it. \n\nOne thousand years flies by when nothing much happens. They say that each year feels a bit shorter than the last, and I'll tell you that years 998, and 999 are merely a fraction of an eye's blink. \n\nI knew William the Conquerer personally. We were on a first name basis. I was allowed to call him William, but everybody else had to call him William the Conquerer. I was the only one who believed in him when he invaded England in 1066. Everybody thought he was a looney for attempting to do so, but I knew otherwise. \n\nI watched England rise and fall and rise and fall and rise and fall. I think England may have had more kings, conquerers, claims to the thrones and disputes for said thrones than I have had years in my life. \n\nThe 1100s is the start of what everydayers (a derogitory term I made up for those who aren't like me) call the High Middle Ages. There wasn't much special about it, I can tell you from experience. \n\nOne thousand birthdays, and only about 300 of those were celebrated. I received the first phone call to say \"Happy birthday.\" Fun fact. \n\nI've basically seen or heard about all major events in western history. I can tell you too that the history books are wrong. \n\nThe Protestant Reformation, the War of the Roses, Black Death, the European Renaissance, the Enlightenment, the industrial revolution, the roaring 20s, the depression, WWII, the Cold War, the Space Race. Most of it is bullshit. Now, I'll admit that I don't know all the details, but I can assure you that I lived through it. \n\nI am not going to deny that the depression wasn't great, or the Cold War wasn't the most tense time for all of the everydayers, but for me, it was just another set of years in an exhaustingly long life. \n\nYou want to know what the true Great Depression is? Living 1,000 years and realizing that once every 70 years or so, you have to find a new set of friends, because the old set has died out. I've had friends die from every cause imaginable. I don't think I've had a real friend, because I have out lived each and every one of them ten fold. \n\nMy phone rang. Awaking from my day dream. I picked it up. \n\n\"Hello?\" I said, trying to shake the sleepiness from my voice.\n\n\"Hi, yeah, is this Arthur from downstairs?\"\n\nArthur? Oh right, me. \n\n\"Yes, this is Arthur.\"\n\n\"Did Reggie talk to you about Leonard needing that report by the end of the day?\"\n\nReport? Oh. yes. \n\n\"Yes, he did.\" \n\n\"So you will have the report on Excalibur Anti-Virus and how it will benefit our computing infrastructure?\"\n\n\"Yes, I know quite a bit about Excalibur.\" I said. \n\n\"Good. Thank you. Have a good day.\"\n\n\"You too.\"\n\nI hung up the phone and heaved out a heavy sigh. One thousand years old? No. One thousand years young. \n\nI hummed \"Happy birthday\" quietly to myself as the words to the report about Excalibur Anti-Virus rushed onto the screen. ", "The Sun rose on the horizon. As I watched from my apartment window i couldn't stop but think about every day that this very same event happened for almost 1000 years. I suddenly felt very very tired. The world keeps moving yet i'm standing still. Not a day older from the great Norwegen battles of so long ago. I have felt the flow of time through my veins. I have felt the madness of losing everything you have ever loved again and again. That is why I am what I am today. The only thing that never dissipates, and never deteriorates; the greed of man. \n\nI wallow in the money and experience I have earned over hundreds of years and it is the only thing that I am still able to cling to. The only thing that still gives my endless life meaning. I have built hotels and factories, houses and orphanages, hell i even have some islands in my name. This is all so I can leave a lasting mark in this world. And maybe, just maybe, these marks will last as long as I have lived one day. ", "I like hard work. Makes me feel alive. So many years and I grew bored with pretty much anything. Sitting around and doing nothing, being rich while doing that, being poor, being homeless. You get bored of doing nothing. Then you start working, you get bored of that too. There's places to see and people to meet, but the first are limited and the second tend to die on you. If you're doing drugs every day for a hundred years they become mundane and boring. You get tired of sex. Want to try new things because normal ones don't excite you anymore so you try new things and keep doing that until you've run out of things to try. The most depraved acts humans can come up with don't even make you blink anymore. You've read all the books worth reading and saw all the movies worth seeing. You end up reading trashy novels and and watching porn movies for the plot. Anyway, now I'm an office man, working for this big company. I was bored and ready to quit from day one, hour one. People do this for years? ", "I've decided to celebrate this evening, an anniversary of the night one thousand years removed from my curious encounter with fate, alone with a particularly sweet malmsey. It was the last vestige of stock I’d been holding for a millennium. As I drank I wondered how much a bottle would go for today. Would a wine auction house even be able to establish its provenance? Unlikely. The bottle which may have once had a label has long since faded. The CEO at the brokerage firm for which I work likes to flaunt ‘ancient’ vintages from his wine cellar. I often overhear the top executives talk about this or that dinner party where they cracked open a bottle from the 1400s, as if that century was anything to remember. Now the 1500s, sailing for adventure with the explorers and getting a European’s first taste of the rums and women of this new world, that was a time to reminisce about.\n\nWhy I would be whiling away my time clerking in a brokerage firm? You’d likely not believe me, but after many centuries of living high and famously, it interested me to live in the lower caste again. (It would be boastful and braggadocio of me to say here that you would have heard of me many times over and again in your history books. Do try querying /r/askhistorians for any figures through antiquity who bore striking resemblances.) Perhaps it was a twinge of nostalgia for my youth of being ordered around by a crass master with little care given to my health and well-being that brought me to this humble profession. I can leave this simple life whensoever I choose, of course. It would likely be beyond your comprehension, the amount of wealth that one builds up over ten centuries.\n\nAh, but that bottle of malmsey, I recall trading for it along with several jugs of hypocras from a merchant in Abancourt soon after my transition. Even with a millennium of nights (that's 365,242 sunsets) to ponder my particular curiosity, I don’t quite know how to describe the change. I was apprenticed to a silversmith who sought a way to stretch the precious silver from which he worked. A traveling alchemist was said to be attending a near-by bazaar. My master sent me to learn if the alchemist could be of any assistance in deceptive metallurgy. The answer, as it turned out, was no. But the man did talk me into assisting him in some experiment he was attempting. My fee was to be dinner and a bed so I need not travel back to my master’s shop in the dead of the night.\n\nChildren read and laugh at fairy stories where some wizard calls for wild fantastical items like eye of newt, pizzle of a recently gelded bull or a thistle plucked at midnight alongside a flowing brook. But those were precisely the types of ingredients the alchemists, potionists and doctors of my youth would use. \n\nWhat odd concoction the alchemist pestled together, I don’t know. I was made to drink and recall nothing more of that night. I woke up under a tree near where the alchemist had set up his tent at the fair. The man had long since disappeared, most certainly unaware of his successful experiment and likely thinking me dead. Nor did I know of his success (if immortality was what he was trying to achieve) until a decade later, released from my apprenticeship and a master silversmith myself. I caught a chance glimpse of myself one day in some custom I was working on and noticed my face had not changed while so many of my fellow villagers were showing the hard features of their middle to late years.\n\nI fled as it became apparent that I would not age. Abancourt was overseen by a rather zealous bishop who would certainly deem me an abomination to his Christianity.\n\nFor many decades I chose to help those around me. I consoled the sickest victims of the Black Death, never fearing the scythe myself. For some other centuries I accumulated wealth off the backs of the men more common than I ever was and even grander wealth thanks to the corruptions of the faith.\n\nAh, but I’ll stop before I bore you with a thousand years of my personal history. The last sips of malmsey, the final taste of everything I’ve brought with me over the centuries, are all that remain in my glass. And I choose to have these few moments to myself." ]	4
	[WP] A man begins to physically and mentally break down after he loses his connection to the internet.	[ "\"Okay - turn... ON.\"\n\nNothing. James stared intently at the computer monitor. It was on, but the Internet - the gateway to porn and silly memes - was OFF. Someone had turned off his Internet. Probably his meddling daughter, a different approach to her usual \"computer intervention.\" \n\n\"You game way too much, Dad! When are you going back to work?\" she would say (frequently) at the breakfast table, when Daddy still got up at that hour. \n\n\"Jessica! What happened to the Internet? I can't get on the Internet!\"\n\nJames had some serious Internet business to attend to in the next five minutes, and his daughter's incessant decrying of his hobby was beginning to grate on his nerves, specifically the lengths at which she was willing to go to stop him from participating in it. Like turning off the Internet!\n\n\"JESSICA! THE INTERNET - WHY WON'T IT GO TO GOOGLE!\"\n\nHe was panicked, his heartbeat so intense it felt as though it could rupture his chest cavity with a single thwump. He had become a creature of habit in his twilight years of beautiful, beautiful long-term disability, and any interruption of his usual routine could set him off.\n\nStill no response from Jess. \"JESS! JESSICA! PLUG THE INTERNET BACK IN! DO THE ON-OFF THING!\"\n\nJames turned, looking out the window, checking for a car: None. \n\nThat's right - she was away, out of state, for school. Had been for a few months. James' late-night scotches had increased in frequency and potency in the previous six months. To some, they'd become a problem.\n\nIn a moment of desperation, James pulled a Blackberry from his pocket. Relief washed over him like a calming wave. Fetish porn and no-rules chat rooms, available at the click of a button! Fantasy football? That's his Tuesday and Thursday! Big schedule this week!\n\nJames began to navigate the outdated Blackberry's warped version of the Internet, a place from which few return (at least with any worthwhile information or productive deed completed), and soon found it to be completely useless.\n\n\"Fuck it - I'm going to Starbucks.\"\n", "This was the third time Howard had used his computers auto-repair feature that was prompted and normally fixed this sort of thing, he could feel the sweat starting to bead on his brow. He was trying to think of some other way to go about fixing this issue, but outside of mashing the phrase \"fix my computer\" into his internet browser, he couldn't come up with anything. He felt like his mind was turning to... Pancakes... Nice analogy Howard. He pushed the auto-correct feature thinking that this was going to fix something.\n\nAs the computer went though it's usual checks and returned another poor response, Howard depressed the mouse and it made a small click confirming that yes, he once again wished to check his internet connection. Howard returned his hand to rest on his lap. Another unfavorable error message about the connection. Howard looked to the mouse to once again try and stimulate a correction in the computer, but this time as he reached, he noticed that on the mouse, already rested his index finger.\n\nHoward took his eyes from the screen to look upon his hand and noticed his middle and ring fingers suspended by ghastly white skin on his hand. Howard began to panic and rise from his custom office swivel-throne. His legs revolted against the unusual movement and Howard fell to the ground. He looked back at his natural perch only to see that his legs did not follow his exact decent to the carpet but rather disembodied themselves and now rest under the computer. The computer then mocked that it had once again been unable to establish an internet connection.\n\nHoward struggled to scream, hoping that one of the adjacent inhabitants of the complex would hear and come to his aid but all he managed was a string of WWW's, IP addresses and screen names, catch phrases from hours of pirated television and abbreviations that might have made sense if only he were logged into his Facebook.\n\nAs Howard's skin slowly became part of the carpet he only had but one wish as the life left him... that he could just update his status one last time..." ]	2
Feel free to change to third person.	[WP] You're on a double-date, but slowly falling in love with someone from the other couple on the date.	[ "He pulled the chair out from behind her as she slid in position to be seated and he softly nudge the chair into the back of her knees as she smiled quaintly at him. \n\nI'd been so distracted by the conversation he and I were having about the upcoming deployment to Afghanistan I hadn't even stood up to acknowledge the girls friend who was now sitting down next to me. He was always thinking one step ahead of me. Guess I'll play the bad boy role now I thought. Since he's already established himself as the well-mannered, chivalrous one. The girl said hi nervously to me as she say her purse on the floor beside her chair and thrusted her body forward moving the chair closer to the table. I gave her a little head nod, \"what's up?\" \n\nI hadn't even taken my hand off my beer. Looking across the table I could tell by the flattered look on her face and his charming smile that they were probably gonna hit it off better than me and the girl I was with. \n\n..never mind I'm too tired.. \n\nSorry about that.." ]	1
Windbreaker and Parachute Pants optional.	[WP] Tell me a story of a Zebra who spends it's time listening to various tracks on a Walkman, dancing in the middle of a battle-field.	[ "Today was set to be a good one, Frank thought, putting the disc in his Walkman. He'd finished up a new mix, got his brand new parachute pants on and he was ready to groove. He tested a few moves as he crested the hill. He needed to be on his A-game today. \n\nAs he tested out some new funky fresh moves, the battle raged below. People were tearing each other apart. People with laser swords clashed, giant mech suits stomped across the savannah. Anyone else would see this scene as not only dangerous, but completely ridiculous. Frank didn't care. He got such a rush from dancing in the heat of battle. Forget running away from lions, being a battlefield dancer was the real thrill.\n\nHe pressed Play on his Walkman. Some funk would warm him up, allowing him to ease into his dancing before he switched into something more high energy. He stretched himself out, his hoofs raring to set the bush ablaze. He started dancing towards the battle, ready to serve some soldiers a hot slice of zebra groove.\n\nHe span into the fray, ducking and diving to the beat. He loved funk, it really got him going. He did the worm under a heat seeking rocket, flipping out it and moonwalking past a mortar crew. They watched this breakdancing zebra with a look of pure disbelief, like they were seeing something out of a bizarre writing task. A laser blast cut this thought short, as Frank continued to bust a move across the battlefield. He moved into something a bit faster, shuffling his way past a giant battle mech fighting a robotic dragon. A certain song about a desert phenomenon carried him through a volley of artillery fire.\n\nHe'd reached the midway point of the fighting, switching into something more metal. He headbanged his way through a bayonet crew, raining blood spurring him on through the absurd battle scene. Frank was tired but his dancing must continue. He waltzed past a tank squad, his feet gliding between mines and tank treads, before bursting into a jig as the sounds of Ireland spurred him onward.\n\nIt was the final stretch now. He transitioned into some swing, lindyhopping between sniper fire most expertly. He felt so alive, the rush of battle melding with the sounds of the 20s. Frank looped back round, jiving and pirouetting between corpses and bullets. His set was almost over, he needed to get back up that hill as soon as possible.\n\nThe showtunes hit, Frank high kicking people and jazz-hoofing like his life depending on it. The music was building to the big finish, he needed to get up that hill. He leapt, he span and danced like his stripes depended on it, landing effortlessly at the top of the hill, as a giant explosion engulfed his dance floor. He stood there, smiling at his audience who watched from the monitor.\n\nThe director stood still, trying to comprehend the insanity of what he just saw. He turned to the head animator, their eyes wide with hope.\n\n'Well, that sure was something. Make it a lion instead of a zebra and we got a show.'", "Well they called me Wilburt since when I was a baby zebra. I considered that to be my slave name however, so I rolled with Zoomy Zebra. Anyways, the rest of the zebras in my clan were complete fools. I should have been born a human. When a plane crashed near us, the rest of the clan just scattered like the zebra morons that they were. But me, being an intelligent English speaking zebra, I realized that we had encountered some pretty sweet technology. Stay tuned for part 2." ]	2
	[WP] You disowned your mother for over a decade, due to mental abuse. She calls you on her birthday, still mean as ever, claiming fatal sickness	[ "\"I haven't talked to you in years and you decide to call me today, because it ls your birthday?\" Johnny said with a deep sigh.\n\n\"It more than just my birthday, if you've ever cared to call or come around you'd know a little more\" Johnny's mom scoffed as sarcastically as ever. \n\n\"I see you're still bitter as always\" the tone in Johnny's voice you could tell he was already starting to get annoyed. \n\n\"Maybe I shouldn't have called you! You know ever since you dad left because you were born...\" Cut off with a burst of anger from Johnny. \n\n\"MOM! Please don't start this now. I did you the pleasure of answer your damn phone call. Just saying what ever the fuck is on your mind, you know I didn't have to pick up!! And another thing if you think you can just guilt me because it's your birthda...\" Johnny stopped talking when he heard his mom faintly say\n\n\"I'm dying.\"\n\nLong pause\n\nJohnny was counting the seconds neither of them was talking. His head was racing with thoughts. He'd never heard such emotion come out of his moms mouth without it being some sort of taunt of anger or abusive one liner that always seemed to kick him back down. No this emotion was different. This emotion came on the whole other spectrum of where his mother usually was before he disowned her. Before Johnny could gasp out a question of why or what is killing her it had already felt like an eternity before Johnny's mom gasped out \"I love you\".\n\nJohnny hadn't heard this in years and something scared him. He hung up. \n\nEnd\n\nIve never done anything like this. Feed back would be nice. Thanks for reading! \n\n", "John stared at the hand in his phone\n\n “Hello, John? Don’t you hang up on me, I just want to wish you a happy birthday” A woman’s voice screeched. The words were heartfelt, but she managed to find a way to make them insulting. John felt numb and for a moment had trouble differentiating between his hand and the black cellphone clutched in his palm. It was only a moment, but it felt like an eternity as his mind swirled with emotions. Voices inside of his head screamed and clamored at once, all of them vying for an opportunity to reply.\n\nFuck you was an immediate and loud one. How’d you get my number. What do you want? You should be dead. You asshole. Leave me alone. Don’t leave me alone. Say you love me, just once. Die you miserable bitch. \n\n “What do you want?” He said robotically, taking the most amicable approach of what he could muster. \n\n“What do you mean, what do I want? I just told you what I wanted, dear. Honestly, you need to start listening. Really listening. Especially now,” Her voice was grating and it hadn’t changed from the last decade he had spoken to her. Always, it carried a condescending tone to it. She hadn’t changed the way she spoke to him since he was five years old, you know, when she wasn’t screaming at him. \n\n“I told you to never call me again,” He hesitated wanting to say mom at the end but he wouldn’t allow her that pleasure. She had long ago lost the privilege of that title.\n\n“Yes, well I thought considering the circumstances…” She trailed off, letting the last word linger a little too long, as if what was happening was only slightly awkward, not life changing.\n\n“The circumstances don’t change a damn thing,” He hissed into the phone. “What’s happening can’t be used as an excuse for what you did,”\n\n“What I did was in your best interest.”\n\n“You mean your best interest,” John spat vehemently, feeling his knuckles tighten around the phone in an effort to stem the rage. “Did you think I’d just forget being dropped off to that house?” Even the good-bye hug she had given was awkward and more a social courtesy, like shaking the hand of a complete stranger. It was the right thing to do, but there was little emotion to it. Hell, he was pretty sure that she had only used one arm. “It took me years to escape that place, to get away from those people. All so you…you…”\n\n“Hey, mister, I didn’t have it easy either!” She yelled back at him, the sudden change in her temper would have been enough to change his approach when he was younger, but not now. \n\n“Yeah, I bet sitting around all day smoking and watching TV while waiting for your welfare checks was pure hell,” He replied, picturing her as he remembered. He doubted she had changed much, a massive blob of a person that seemed have grown a decrepit couch out of her ass. The only time she wasn’t yelling was when she was inhaling those filthy cigarettes, before flicking the ash on the floor next to where he was playing with his meager assortment of toys. That tiny trailer was always full of choking smoke, it made his eyes water and hard to breathe.\n\n“John,” She said her voice seeming to know the eye rolling he had done on his end. “I needed to get clean and I couldn’t do it with you,”\n\n“So, that’s what you do? Just dump me off somewhere because I’m too much of a burden?” His voice was quiet but full of rage as he began to pace around the small room, his bare feet slapping against the cheap tiled floor. “I could’ve gone with uncle Mike or Aunt Sally!” \n\n“Neither of them would take you, always crying. They hated you.” She cut him off, the promptness of her reply silencing his anger for a moment. With a defeated sigh John collapsed backwards into a chair, the weight of his form made the cheap thing bounce up and down slightly. A hand rose up and slowly rubbed across his face, a subconscious effort to revitalize himself. He felt old, he felt weak. Taking a deep breath the anti-septic stink of the room he was in didn’t help clear his head any. In fact, he felt like throwing up.\n\n“So, what do you want now? Forgiveness” In contrast to his earlier explosion, his words were meek and quiet.\n“No, John, I don’t want your forgiveness. I was just wondering if you could give me some money. I mean, it’s not like you need-Click” The sad part about the new cellphones was that there was no longer any satisfying way of ending the call, you couldn’t slam them down like the old land lines, all you could do was smash your finger against the end call button as hard as you could. But, in this instance he was able to get a fleeting feeling of reprisal as the small black \ndevice smashed against the wall and exploded into smaller parts.\n\nIt wasn’t enough though, nothing could be enough to stem the flood of anger that boiled in him. He didn’t care that the gown he was wearing became loose and revealed his backside as he kicked the chair across the room.\n\n“Mr. Stevens!” The voice wasn’t angry, but it held enough authority to stop John from his next action. Turning to face the entrance of the room, John felt the dampness of tears begin to form in his eyes and he immediately put a hand up to wipe them away before they could present themselves to the other. Naturally, this only seemed to worsen it and they began to run down his face. For his part, the man said nothing and gave him a few moments to compose himself. “I understand this is hard, no one wants to go through what you-“\n\n“Not now,” John muttered, reaching out to grab some tissues from the counter next to the sterile swabs. “Let’s just, just get this started.” The man nodded as he brought an IV into the room, the plastic bag filled with a clear liquid. John laughed slightly, wondering how something that looked like water would accomplish anything. \n\n“It’s a very simple process…” The Doctor began, beckoning John to sit down. He obliged but immediately tuned out the rest of what he was saying. Nothing would be the same from this moment on, all the specialist and doctors he met had given him the gravest of reports with only a very low percentage of success. How had his mother gotten his number? No doubt she had heard through facebook, through his girlfriend Sherry. Or rather, his ex-girlfriend as he stopped talking to her months ago. \n\nTears continued to stream down John’s face as he felt the needle puncture his skin. He didn’t care what happened to him anymore. Maybe, what happened next would be better than how life had treated him so far. It was about time his luck changed for the better, right?\n\nI just made a username so I could write for this, please be gentle!", "I heard the phone ringing and paused the game, grumbling a little. I picked up my phone, answered it, \"Hello?\"\n\nA voice I hadn't heard in years spilled out of the speaker, \"David, honey, how are you?\"\n\nMy face contorted with barely suppressed rage, \"A little worse now. What do you want, mother?\"\n\n\"David, don't be cruel!\" Her voice dripped, poisoning those empty places in a person, \"It is always better to be kind. I'm just calling to talk to my dear son, who I haven't heard from in far too long.\"\n\n\"Is that so, no ulterior motive? Do you really expect me to believe that? Its been 12 years, why are you calling me?\"\n\n\"I'm trying to talk to you,\" She oozed, \"Is it so wrong to want to talk to my own son?\"\n\n\"Yes. After what you've done, yes. I'm done with this. Goodbye.\"\n\nShe was frantic, \"Wait! Ok, there is a reason I called. I just... didn't want to open with it.\"\n\nI waited, saying nothing. The silence extended uncomfortably, but I made no sound. I stayed absolutely still so no sound at all carried across to her.\n\n\"I visited my doctor a few days ago, and I just heard back from him. Today, of all days, my birthday!\"\n\nI kept my silence, but despite my efforts I was shaking a little.\n\n\"I'm dying, David. The doctor says I have a few months at most.\"\n\nNow my silence was from surprise, I was stunned.\n\n\"David? Are you there David? Say something!\"\n\nI shook my head and swallowed. I cleared my throat quietly, then spoke, \"Good.\"\n\nI hung up.", "The trill of the ancient phone echoed through the house, jarring Leonard awake. He stumbled down stairs in a half awake daze, cursing as he rolled his ankle. Limping over to the telephone, he lifted the handset from receiver. \n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"Leonard. It's your mother. We need to talk.\"\n\n\"I have nothing to say to you, Carolyn.\"\n\n\"Carolyn. Huh. Can't even bring yourself to call me mom anymore. Anyway, if you won't talk, then shut yer trap and listen. I got some just delightful birthday news from my doctor.\"\n\nLeonard sighed inwardly, as he heard his mother pause to take a long drag on what was likely her second pack of the day.\n\n\"I'm dying. Lung cancer they tell me. Anyway, I thought you should know, even though you've had such a stick up your ass for ten years.\"\n\nLeonard clenched his teeth, as his anger rose.\n\n\"A stick up my ass? You were an abusive piece of shit for my entire childhood.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah, here we go, it's all my fault. You know you were no peach yourself. Abandoning me here, while you went of to college and partied.\"\n\n\"Oh, you want to talk abandonment. Shall we take a trip down memory lane to 1991? Hmm? that entire summer you went missing?\"\n\n\"I WAS IN REHAB, YOU LITTLE SHIT\"\n\n\"You were SUPPOSED to be in rehab, but what you ended up doing was fucking every guy in the god damn state for you're fucking fix. So you'll have to excuse me if I can't muster up any sympathy.\"\n\n\"I should've known you'd start this crap again. I call to tell you I'm dying, and I just get a lecture on what a terrible mother I was.\"\n\n\"Let's just say you are really dying, and this isn't some kind of scam to worm your way back into my life, or my bank account. What exactly do you want from me?\"\n\nThere was silence from the other end, and once again the sound of a long drag on a cigarette. \n\n\"What I want, is for you to come down and give me a proper burial. I want to be buried in a nice grave, and I want someone to say something at my funeral. Who else have I got? You're fathers dead, so's you're uncle. His side of the family won't even talk to me anymore, so I guess you've got that in common.\"\"\n\n\"Fine. I'll come give you that big send off you're hoping for. I'll even say something at the funeral. But I want something in return.\"\n\n\"You know I don't have any money. I had to sell the house to pay the medical bills.\"\n\n\"You think I want your money? No. I want you to have a good long think about the shit you put on me, all the damage you inflicted and then... I want you to say you're fucking sorry.\"\n\n\n\n", "Sadly, this is my actual life. Although... Instead of calling me on my birthday this yr she called me when she found out I was pregnant. We had the usual conversation of her talking about how sick she is (she has hep c, lupus, borderline personality disorder, heart condition, and a laundry list of other issues), how mentally I'll she is, how she will never be able to love me or my child, how we (my siter and I) robbed her of happiness, and how she refuses to take any responsibility in how shitty her life is. Creepy how accurate this prompt is.", "\"It's all your fault! Your fault I have cancer, if you hadn't been born I wouldn't have to drink\" I could almost feel the spit thousands of miles away through the telephone. The vile words of hate spat out through those yellow teeth.\n\nI still don't know how she got my number, I thought I had been careful. I hadn't heard that screeching voice in over 12 years. Not since I had heard it sneer that I would be crawling back, that she had done nothing wrong. That she was a loving mother, that it was my fault that I was born out of wedlock, my fault that I was a sickly child, my fault that her third husband had run off with the secretary. I still keep in contact with Derrick, I like seeing the happy family pictures on facebook he posts with his husband, a window into a more normal family life.\n\nI had run away as soon as I could, hiding away money where she wouldn't find it until I could get a place of my own. Even then she still tried to run my life, I was unstable you see, so she called my first job to get me sacked. But I struggled through and managed to carve out an existence which wasn't in constant fear of her disapproval. I proved that I could and would amount to something in my life, even managing to complete university whilst supporting myself entirely through the course.\n\nI had tried reaching out after graduation, seeing if 5 years apart had cooled her hatred towards me. It hadn't, two seconds after picking up the phone she had accused me of getting a girl pregnant and demanding her \"hard earned money\". She hadn't changed, it was all about her and how much I was a tax on her life. I hadn't tried again. \n\nSo now I was sitting her, the phone sitting on the floor next to me. Even a few feet away her hatred fountained out of the earpiece. I was sobbing against the wall, the insecurities, the guilt all came flooding back. I was that little child again, trembling before her drunken wrath powerless to stop the tirade of insults, slurs and accusations.\n\nUntil my little saviour came toddling over, my little princess, from where she had been playing with her toys. She was only three but she picked up the phone and held it to her ear. I went to stop her, the vile beast at the end of the phone was still screaming words I never wanted her to hear, but she put the handset to her ear before I could.\n\n\"Your very naughty and your making Daddy cry, stop it or you'll go to the naughty step.\" I was actually surprised to hear the woman stop. I think the voice of her grand-daughter took her back, she didn't even know of her existence until then.\n\n\"Who is this?\" I heard the vile voice switch to the sickly sweet façade that everyone else in the world heard.\n\n\"Shuddup and go away and never come back!\" My heart welled with pride as she put the phone down carefully as we'd taught her, pressed the big red hang up button. She then dusted off her hands, nodded at me and gave me a hug. I don't know why but it all changed then, I had someone on my side against her. I'd never had that, they either turned a blind eye or actively joined in. Sure she was only three, but she would be by my side whatever. When she was born I had vowed never to be anything like my mother, I would treat her kindly and protect her from harm, not knowing she seemed to have made the same for me.\n\nThe phone buzzed again on the floor. I took a deep breath and answered, knowing it would be her again.\n\n\"Who was that?\" She still had her sickly voice on again.\n\n\"That Mother was, my daughter, your grand-daughter, and you'll never see or hear from her. All of your hate and anger has given you this cancer not me. And because of that you will die without ever meeting her, I don't care how you got this number but if you ring it again I will change it. You are not to contact me in any way, shape or form. All I have to say to you is that I hope to find some peace before you go, I have.\"\n\nI hung up, and gave my little girl another hug. I watched as she toddled back off to play with her toys. I felt as though a weight had been lifted. I was no longer hiding from her, cowering at hearing her voice again, I had much more important things to do, Mrs Nesbit had a tea party and I was invited." ]	6
	[WP] An outspoken gnostic atheist dies and enters heaven. In his confusion, a being who appears to be God approaches him and asks: "Do you have any questions?"	[ "As he lay near the tree, unmoving and limbless, Richard realized he probably should have taken the man up on his lessons before he attempted chainsaw juggling. The birds tweeted, the sky was clear blue, somewhere in the distance a cicada buzzed and the putt putt of the last gasoline burning off in the nearby 2-stroke soon stopped. A blazing sun warmed his intact torso, he grimaced and strained to shield his eyes from the sun. He moved his arm to provide shade to his face, protection from the blinding light that grew ever stronger; or at least his brain told him he did.\n\nMy son.\n\nThe voice came from everywhere, and nowhere.\n\nCome to the light, not that you are in any shape to struggle, you muk muk.\n\n\"Jesus?\" The last words reluctantly escaped from Richard's face, a fitting end for such a staunch agnostic.\n\nThe light was now impenetrable, again he raised his arm, this time it worked. Stepping hesitantly through the ether of a new clandestine world, a void, roughly the shape of a robed figure appeared in front of him.\n\n\"You muk muk.\" Spoke the void, the once faint voice now clear, close and booming.\n\nThe fog began to lift from Richard's brain. He allowed his arm to slowly retreat to his side.\n\n\"Am I...\" He looked around. Everywhere was a blurry haze of cloud and fog.\n\n\"Dead? Absolutely.\" The void confirmed.\n\n\"But, why?\"\n\nThe void swirled and toiled about, giggling and obscuring the view of the heavens as he went.\n\n\"Chainsaws, Dick. Chainsaws.\"\n\nHis memory jogged. Richard fumbled suddenly and reached for his crotch. Still there, he paused to admire his intact fingers and other extremities as he raised his hands in front of him.\n\n\"Do you have any other questions, Jester?\"", "As the two of us stood in a featureless expanse that would have otherwise been daunting, the whole of my being was enthralled by the man before me. With long hair and a meager build, I knew that before me stood what I could only assume was God. A face that warranted tranquility and fury, this man truly looked the part of Father. Though as I gazed at him, I felt as though I were watching a play, or reliving a memory. Was this truly Him? Or was this as I saw him? Could this being and what I was perceiving be mutually exclusive? Before I could decide, he asked, \"Do you have any questions?\"\nHis voice was layered, as though echoed in a giant brass drum. I was taken aback. It was all I could manage to reply, \"Where am I\"\nHis reply came immediately, \"This is what you know as heaven, the domain in which all of my creations come to rest. You are one with me, as you have never ceased to be. But now is when you and I can speak, for as long as you'd like.\"\nI considered that for a moment. In the tangible sense, I had never felt more alive than here, at this moment with Him. Though many questions came to mind, I had no sense of confusion. It was as though I knew, in my core, that I could express every thought I was having.\n\nI asked Him, \"Why did you allow me to disbelieve, to even deny, your existence?\"\nThe thrum of his voice spoke smoothly, \"Allow? I do not allow. I am all, and I am one. The universe is me, and I am the universe. And you are the universe experiencing itself, as all of my children are. Why did I not intervene when you did not believe in me? Because I didn't believe in me, as you. Do you understand?\"\n\"I do. Then, what is the true meaning of sin?\"\nHis voice seemed somehow softer, yet lost no depth, \"Sin during life was an idea created to fundamentally discourage the causes of pain. However, as man grew, so did the true meaning of Sin, and thus it was warped into falsehoods and misgivings. Sin is the true brother to Love, and they are both children of Peace. One cannot be without the other, for how can a shadow exist without the light? How can light be cast onto things without casting a shadow? And how can either exist without a domain?\"\nPeace is neutrality, neither light nor dark. Peace is indifferent. And with that, we sat down with our legs crossed, and had a conversation as though we were two old friends finally catching up with one another. " ]	2
	[WP] An otherwise well-adjusted person grows up in society confusing the word "Asian" with "Assassin".	[ "Osaka to Manila. A dangerous flight path, to be sure, but Vancouver-Tokyo and Tokyo-Osaka had already gone off without a hitch so Daniel wasn't terribly worried. Maybe a little worried, but not too much so. \n\nAnd it was Gabriel Niven's tour anyway, not his, so there wasn't a thing he could do about it. The man's got stones, Daniel thought. Sure, he snorts too much coke, and he cant't play the guitar worth a damn, but it takes some serious stones to be willing to fly over this place. And possibly a death wish, too.\n\nIt was smooth flying today. Minimal turbulence, no surface-to-air missiles yet. They might even get to Manila a bit early. Daniel relaxed. He let his guard down.\n\nAnd then Gabriel screamed.\n\nDaniel panicked. Instinctively he dashed out of the cockpit. His job was on the line here.\n\nThe scene was absurd. The assassin - female, probably only about seventeen and disconcertingly cheery - was standing between Gabriel and an open closet, obviously having stowed away, and Gabriel was looking more apologetic than anything.\n\n\"You scared me there,\" said Gabriel. Daniel had never kept a secret his low opinion of the rocker, but man, what an idiot.\n\nThe assassin moved for an object in her pocket. Fearing that it was a pistol or a knife, Daniel reached for the closest weapon he could find - Gabriel's guitar. He attempted to crack her head with it, but she ducked swiftly, and the guitar splintered against the wall of the plane.\n\nUnfazed, the assassin withdrew a CD case and a Sharpie. Great, thought Daniel, mentally categorizing her: Crazed fan. Probably better than Hired gun, but still. Not good. And his weapon was in pieces.\n\nTime for plan B.\n\nDaniel charged, tackling the assassin to the ground. Gabriel, horrified, unleashed all his strength to pry Daniel off of her. It continued for a good twenty seconds - a three-way brawl, with Daniel, Gabriel and the assassin all getting more and more infuriated by the second.\n\nEveryone realized a bit too late that nobody was flying the plane.", "I've never understood my mom. Why the hell does she want me to learn math, learn the piano, go to university, \"like a good asian boy\", she would tell me. I can't live like this. I know they are all so happy being asian. My dad is always quite, and approachable, my mom can never stop smiling. How they can go on living like this is beyond me. Especially mom. I don't understand how she could ever be happy knowing what my dad's profession is. How can dad even live like that. I try not to let people know I'm asian, but no matter how hard my parents or (mostly) I try, people can always tell we're asians, even though we my parents don't even look different from anyone else. It seems that it's no secret, and that everyone knows what my eventual fate will be. I just hope it doesn't hurt getting your penis trimmed.", "\"What's wrong?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You're all nervous,\" she said.\n\n\"Oh, sorry.\" He shifted in the seat, unrolled the napkin from the silverware, placed it on his lap.\n\n\"You weren't like this when you asked me out, you know.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I guess I wasn't.\" He looked around, trying to guess corners and potential hiding places. Or would they just use poison?\n\n\"Is it the restaurant?\"\n\n\"Kinda.\"\n\nShe frowned. \"Not a fan of Chinese?\" She thought for a second, then snapped her fingers. \"A-ha! You're MSG intolerant!\"\n\n\"MSG?\"\n\nShe nodded earnestly. \"Monosodium Glutamate.\"\n\nHe paled.\n\n\"You'll be fine. The guy who first wrote about the whole 'Chinese Restaurant Syndrome' probably had a bad bottle of wine. Or so I heard anyway.\" She shrugged. \"I've never had a problem with it.\"\n\nMonosodium glutamate. A strange word. One he didn't like confronting alone, with a date he had only seen a few times before. It reminded him a bit of mononucle-something, mono for short. He knew that was a bad thing. Did this MSG cause mono?\n\nWait...a syndrome? \"Hang on, syndrome?\"\n\n\"Yeah, Chinese Restaurant syndrome. S'what they called it. Headache, flushing, chest pain, that sorta thing.\"\n\n\"D-d-did they do an autopsy?\"\n\nShe couldn't help but laugh. \"A what?\"\n\n\"An autopsy. You know, when they—\"\n\n\"No, silly, you have to be dead first.\" She tried to stop laughing, subsided to muted giggles.\n\nHeadache. Nausea. Flushing. He hated the feeling of paranoia, but were those not in line with cyanide poisoning? Or was he misremembering?\n\nMonosodium Glutamate. His research of poisons had found no such thing, or even any such thing as a disguise for something more sinister. Was this the new cyanide? What was the aim of this?\n\n\"Why'd you choose this place?\"\n\n\"Li recommended it to me.\"\n\nHe froze. Who?\"\n\n\"Li. I think his extended family owns the place or something.\"\n\nOh God.\n\n\"Are you alright?\" She waved a hand in front of him, tried to see if his eyes had the glaze of a fever.\n\n\"I, uh,\" he stumbled to his feet, \"I have to go outside.\" He sidled out, scanned the area quickly, and bolted for the door. He was out before she could even ask him to wait.\n\nWas it something she said? She started reviewing how the date had gone up until now.\n\nA waiter crossed the dining room to the window, looked out through the glass.\n\n\"He said he just needed some air,\" she said, hoping that she hadn't messed things up too badly.\n\n\"I don't see him,\" the waiter said.\n\n\"What? Let me see.\"\n\nShe got up and stood beside the waiter to look out the window.\n\nThe parking lot was empty.", "Alta, Utah was a great place to grow up. Plenty of space, plenty of friends, plenty of Christ, and not an Asian in sight. The population was small, but it was all non-lethal, which was nice. The first time I saw one of them I was 19 and it was my second semester at the University of Utah. \nHonestly, it was my first time at the library. I'd partied pretty hard that first semester and just got done pledging to my frat, Kappa Sigma, but after a lackluster first semester I knew I had to buckle down and get better grades. \nI walked up the stairs to the \"quiet level\" of the building. She was sitting in the far corner. As soon as I saw her I froze. I was paralyzed with fear. She was very pretty, there was no denying that, but she was a killer. I could see it in her eyes, barely, but I could see it in them nevertheless. My buddy, Chad, who was with me saw there was something wrong with me. \nHe asked me, \"What's up?\" \nMy vocal chords were paralyzed with the rest of my body. Chad looked to the corner where my eyes were pointed and saw the beautiful, stoic killer. \n\"Ooh, someone's fallin' in love, huh?\" \nChad's strange assumption shocked me back to functionality. I looked at him and shook my head. \n\"Well if you're not gonna talk to her I will.\" \nChad took what I assumed would be his last steps on earth towards the small, but deadly girl 's table and sat right next to her. I winced with fear, but amazingly she did not strike. No, not yet. They just sat there talking. Meanwhile, I looked around and was terrified with what I saw. The University of Utah's library was brimming with murderous Asians. They were all pretending to be studying, but I knew better. If they were studying anything it was new and more lethal forms of martial art or how to sneak up on victims with ninja-like stealth. I ran out of that library and never stepped in one again while I was on campus. \nLater that year, shortly after going on a date with the Asian he met at the library, Chad was found dead. He was only 20. The coroner said it was from a Cocaine overdose and everyone seemed to accept that as the truth, but I knew better. Sure he snorted over a gram of coke that night and drank a handle of Vodka, but there was no doubt in my mind that he'd been poisoned by the pernicious seductress from the library. \nI saw her the next year while I was out riding my bike. She was driving a Prius and nearly ran me over. She had lost all subtlety in her approach to killing. Clearly, her bloodlust was overwhelming her common sense. \n \nSorry for the racism and stereotyping, it was purely satirical. More to come if y'all like it. I'm thinking about sending our protagonist off on a Mormon Missionary Trip somewhere in Southeast Asia.", "The man pounded on Jim's car window, interrupting his lunch. Jim partially welcomed the distraction from his terrible sandwich, but was also quite irritated at the prospect of interacting with another human being. The parking lot was empty, and despite his inclination Jim lowered his window, deciding he may try being a good samaritan for once.\n\nBefore Jim could say anything, the man leaned forwards and seized Jim by his jacket, hauling Jim closer to the window. \"You gotta help me man! They're after me!\" \n\nJim blinked rapidly, as was his habit when he was out of his element. Suffice to say, anyone examining Jim's face could have mistaken his expression to mean that he was making a novel in morse code. \"I'm sorry, who?\"\n\nThe man leaned in towards Jim, his head practically inside the car. Jim shifted away nervously, his blinks increasing in frequency. \"There's no time to explain. I've upset the wrong people, and now there are assassins after me and I need to get away as fast as possible. Let me into your car.\"\n\nJim's expression morphed into one of understanding and superiority. Which for him, essentially decreased the amounts of words per minute encoded into his blinks. \"That's racist.\"\n\nThe man, who had looked to be about to fall through the window onto Jim's lap, halted in pure confusion. \"Wh... what?\"\n\nJim nodded knowingly. \"I see what this is now. You think you can go around insulting minorities, and just because I'm white I'll take your side and get you away?\"\n\nThe man stood for a second, unable to process exactly what Jim meant. \n\"Look man, I'm sorry if I offended you but this is a matter of life and de...\"\n\n\"Oh for god's sake,\" snorted Jim \"I'm sure you upset them but they're not going to kill you.\" \n\n\"WHAT the HELL are you talking about!\" the man yelled. \"That's what they do, it's their JOB!\"\n\n\"Now, now,\" admonished Jim. \"That's no way to talk about assassins.\"\n\nThe man blanched. \"But...\"\n\n\"What you're going to do,\" interrupted Jim, \"is wait right here for those assassins you insulted to get here. Then, you're going to apologize, and in the future you should think twice before insulting someone just because of their race.\" With that, Jim rolled up his window and started his car.\n\nThe sound of the engine starting jolted the man outside out of his confusion. \"No, wait... please! I can't reason with these people, they're insane! You gotta help me!\"\n\nJim shook his head sadly and drove out of the parking lot. Such a shame to see blatant racism in this day and age. Behind him, he could hear someone screaming. \"I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! PLEASE-\"\n\n\"At least he took my advice,\" thought Jim to himself, shaking his head. \"Assassins can be such lovely people.\"", "Jonathan had never felt so disappointed in his entire lifetime. All those expectations, destroyed in seconds. As he ejected the disc from his X-box, throwing it promptly into the corner he mumbled \"They make this \"Assassins Creed\", but the location is set in Rome? What idiot was in charge of creating this garbage?\". Never again would Jonathan spend money on such a lie...", "\"Dude, I don't understand. How can you date an asian?\n\nWhat do you mean, bro?\n\nSeriously dude, how can you like asians at all? They're sick people. Bent in the mind.\n\nDude, what the hell are you going on about?\n\nThey killed JFK, Mike!\n\nWho?\n\nThe Asians!!\n\nNo, they didn't... What? Even if they did, it's not like the whole asian race is evil. Even if it were the asians, the ones who did it aren't the ones living now. We can forgive them! Same thing with the germans!\n\nOK, now you're just being racist.\"", "Conference room was filled with an atmosphere of delight and occasional euphoria. Thomas pointed to the photograph of Acorn employees displayed on the projector screen. Laughters followed as Thomas made a joke that Walmart owners may attempt to hire contract killers to eliminate him before his more friendly, more \"community-centered\" chain of supermarket replaced their chains of stores. \"Acorn Stores will be opening in Washington on the 5th and we are very excited about this brand new store. Remember: everyone is welcome at Acorn. And please--\", Thomas added with a warm smile, \"No Asians.\" \n\nThe laughter, that never came, turned into a cold silence. The first flash of camera came almost reluctantly, as if cautious to break the ice of dead silence, was then followed by thunderstorm of flashes. One female reposter arose from the blinding light and now approached to the stage very quickly, almost running on her heels. \"Sir, Could you repeat that last bit for us again, or at least, clarify? Why aren't Asian people welcomed at your stores?\" \n\n\"Because… they are crooks?\", Thomas asked and observed the reaction. And react, they did. Something was very wrong here. \"Well, I suppose some of them are welcome, as long as they behave and are not after me,\" Thomas quickly said, \"or my customers and --\" \n\n\"Sir, \" the reporter cut him off, \"I am sure that hundreds of Asians work for your enterprise and -\" \n\nIt was now his turn to cut her off. \"We certainly don't hire Asians to do their nasty business. Not that I am aware of, that is.\" Then Thomas realizes that the reporter is pointing to the projector. \"Woman on the right. She certainly looks Asian to me.\" \n\nThomas studied the image of lovely Anita Hung smiling at the camera. Honestly, there was nothing deadly or remotely threatening about her. Maybe that is what made her a good Asian: catch you by surprise and cut your throat. He was becoming very confused. \"Anita is not an Asian at all. I can assure you that. Her assassin background has helped us create a global, multi-cultural workspace at Acorn. She--\" Thomas went on and on. The reporter, now puzzled, stopped him with a question: \"Could you name me any Asian you know of?\" \n\n\"Uh, Lee Harvey Oswald? I doubt he did it, but he's famous Asian. Brutus?\" \n\"It may be that you may have one or two words mixed up. Would you describe Gingis Khan as an Asian?\" \n\n\"No. I don't think so. There may have been a time, in his invasion to the West, that Europeans may have sent Asians to him, or he would send Asians to his enemies, but he is not an Asian. At least, that is not what he is known for.\"\n\nThe crowd was now starting to laugh. The reporter, biting her lip so she wouldn't explode into laughter, managed to ask one more question: \"Do you know any assassins who happens to be Asian?\"\n\n\"I don't know. Ninjas?\" ", "Kim sat at the computer, exiting out of popup ads and moaning softly. A pop-up for a specific adult entertainment site appeared.\n\n“Asians?” Kim said, “Why would anyone want to watch Asians doing it?”\n\nKim clicked.\n\nKim’s mouth dropped. They weren’t Asians, they were Assassins. Squinty eyes, stubby noses, light skin. No sniper rifles in the video. No throwing knives, poison pills or other Asian gear. But they were wearing disguises. At least that part was kind of Asian-y. \n\nStill, a feather of doubt clung to Kim’s mind. It was time to check Wikipedia:\n\n> Asian—refers to anything related to the continent of Asia, especially Asian people.\n\nWhoa. There was a whole continent of Asians. How did they survive, all living together? Their life expectancy must be really low.\n\n> Assassin, one who commits a targeted murder or assassination\n\nWait a minute. Murder? That was an Asian thing. Not an assassin thing.\n\nSuddenly, it dawned on Kim. What had he done!? He tore the Assassins’ Club badge off his chest and threw it into the trash.\n\nHis birth family was Korean, his adoptive parents were British. He’d joined the Assassins’ Club at Kings’ College, hoping to learn about his biological family. Their culture. Their customs. Their cuisine.\n\nOh God. What had he done?!\n\nAt the last meeting, they’d given him a recipe for soup. Soup with one highly unusual ingredient. And Kim had cooked it. And the guest of honor had eaten it. Only the guest of honor.\n\nIt made sense now. ‘Intro to Academic Writing’ had been cancelled that day. The professor was dead.\n \n", "They couldn't make me go there. I didn't care how nice the food was, or how beautiful the architecture was, or how stunning the blossom on the trees looks at this time of the year. \"You'll get a pay rise, a flat, a car. You can bring your family - Trisha would love it there. You'll be sitting pretty.\" they had assured me, sat comfortably behind the polished mahogany, telling me I'd be sitting pretty. I had laughed in the faces of those fucking hypocrites. \"Find someone else\" I had told them, before leaving the room defiantly. \n\n\n\nI thought I would do anything for that company. My company. But I would never go to China. The land of 2 billion Asians. The land of 2 billion killers." ]	10
	[WP] Somebody has finally discovered the horrifying truth behind why kids love cinnamon toast crunch.	[ "\"Dear god....It was in front of us the whole time!\" Professor Kingsley shouted in his laboratory. His assistant jumped from his chair. \"What!?\" he shouted, moving his glasses up his face. \"I can see it. I-it's horrible....\" The Professor lifted his head up from his microscope and turned to his graduate assistant. \"Marcus, get me the Co-Co Puffs!\" Marcus scrambled out of his chair to grab the box of cereal labeled CCP and handed it to the Professor. With delicate hands, Professor Kingsley moved the Cinnamon Toast Crunch out from under the microscope and placed it in a petri dish. Pointing at the dish, he told his assistant, \"Don't touch the CTC, it holds valuable information.\" The assistant nodded and continued staring at the Professor. \n\nProfessor Kingsley positioned a single Co-Co Puff under the microscope and examined it. \"Of course! It's just as I thought!\" The Professor shouted yet again. \n\n\"What is it Professor?\n\n\"The main ingredient in CTC is a well known stimulant in youth. These appear in CCP as well, but are much more difficult to see. You would have to be some sort of bird to see them. They also appear in several other cereals; LC, CC, and most notoriously...\" Professor Kingsley paused for dramatic effect. \"T.\" \n\n\"What was T again?\" The assistant asked.\n\n\"While it has mild effects on humans, it has been known to make rabbits, especially older ones, neurotic to the point of institutionalization.\" The Professor began to pace back and forth. \"I thought it would be in this, in fact it was my doctor's thesis. They called me crazy! They said that this cereal would never have it!\" \n\n\"What! What is it!?\" The graduate student's voice perked up at the rising excitement.\n\n\"It's spirals! Spirals hypnotize the children into loving the cereal. It's those cinnamony swirls, that sugary taste. Oh god I must have some!\" The Professor leaped toward the cabinet knocking over his life's work. Cereal bits rolled around on the floor. Professor Kingsley ripped open the box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and gorged on the delicious cereal. He had instantly become a shell of his former intellectual self. The graduate student stared in horror at his now Golem-like mentor. He now knew the secret of why kids love Cinnamon Toast Crunch and he would take it to his grave. How about you? Can you see why kids love the taste of Cinnamon Toast Crunch...and survive." ]	1
	[WP] Two step siblings are on board their parents private jet, when the engines fail. The plane crashes in the wilderness, killing both parents.	[ "She wouldn't shut up. “Where are we,” this and, “Where is Mommy,” that. I told her that they were gone. I told her we were lost. I told her I didn't know anything, and she just needed to shut up. But she wouldn't shut up! \n\nMy whole body ached, there was blood in my mouth, and I was pretty sure I had a concussion. I've never had a hangover before, but I thought that it would have been similar to what I felt then. Squinting my eyes from the daylight, covering my ears from the crying, racing my thoughts to remember what transpired, I am certain that I spent more than a few hours lying in the copilot’s chair of the cabin. Mary was curled up in a ball of tears and mumbles by the seats we were recently strapped in. \n\nI was the child that never took to the outdoors. During camping trips, I stayed in the RV when everyone else was fishing. I browsed the internet on a laptop when everyone else was swimming in the lake. I texted my friends when everyone else was around the campfire playing charades. My dad knew I enjoyed convenience and isolation, and he didn't try to make me get out of my comfort zone very much. I was thankful for that. Mom, on the other hand, always signed me up for summer camps and field trips, always urged me to audition for band clinics, always told me to get some fresh air when I spent five hours on World of Warcraft. I’m not ungrateful, really, but she didn't care about how much she annoyed me. She kept pushing me when I clearly objected or was uncomfortable. I think she figured I would grow out of it or something. Really, when I spend a week sleeping in bunks with seven other kids that I don’t know, and they all go do ropes courses and water sports when I just read in the cabin, I’m am not any more likely to socialize like “normal” teenagers. It just reinforces my preference to seclusion... Still, she saw me as a child with a disease. She wanted to cure me from my introversion. \n\nSo, I wasn't initially upset when her body was limp in the aisle. It was surreal, like a movie or a painting. I just didn't believe it. Mary didn't believe it. She knelt next to Mom and shook her, whispering to wake up. I agreed with her assumption, at first, and shook Mom as well. But we turned her over, and saw her face, and my gut made me regurgitate the chicken salad I ate a few minutes beforehand. Mary didn't get it, and kept shaking the dead lady in the aisle. Her whispers grew to cries of terror. I said she was dead, she was gone, she wasn't going to wake up, but Mary ignored my existence. It was just her and her mother, at that moment, and I realized she wasn't going to listen to me anytime soon. That’s when I stood and stared at the dead man in the chair. His neck was bent, head twisted towards the window, while his hands held the armrest. Then, my eyes finally washed themselves with salty tears, a vain attempt to erase the dirt and depression that they had witnessed. It didn't work, but I saw things more clearly. Mary and I are alive. We are the only ones alive. This encompassed my whole being while I stepped through the hole of white light. \n\nWe were in a forest. The grass was low, like a meadow, but the trees reached the heights of redwoods. It really looked like the trees were transplanted into the middle of flat grassland. It didn't fit. \n\nThe outside was a cage. I felt confined in this wreckage of our lives. I felt like I was forced to face the reality, the facts of the situation. Mary just kept crying. She was still sitting beside her mother, but she wasn't whispering any more. The silence was filled with violent spasms and shaky breathing. But she still ignored me, so I walked a few yards away, towards the cabin, and opened the dented door. The pilots had branches in their chests, shards of glass riddled their bodies, and the copilot was unbuckled from his seat. My imagination thought it out, in every way I could, and it mostly played out that the pilots screwed up, and I got angry at the dead men. I dragged the copilot into the grass and stared at him. I grew flush with rage and kicked him, each time with less force. More tears streaked my cheeks when I stopped and climbed back into the cabin. The empty chair was nearly intact, saved by the slab of meat that had occupied it before. I sat down and cried. I wiped my running nose on my sleeves. I fell asleep and dreamed of something better. \n\nBut Mary woke me up when the sun was receding behind a large hill. She was mad at me. She screamed at me. She thought I had left her alone in the plane with our dead parents. I just hushed her and tried to explain everything that happened. She broke down in my arms, and I was forced to act as a big brother. I was obligated to console her, to comfort her, to say something that would make her feel alright, but I didn't know what I could do. We were never really the typical “big brother and littler sister” that people expected. I never really looked out for her like most big brothers would. She never really depended on my confidence like most little sisters would. We never really thought of each other as siblings, just two children that occupied the same home. Our parents always tried to make us closer, friendlier, more involved with each other’s lives, but Mary and I fought it. We had no reason to believe that we would ever need each other’s help. \n\nNow she needed me, and perhaps I needed her too. It wasn't something I enjoyed, but I knew that I had to toughen up for her. At least, I would need her cooperation if I hoped to make it out of this place alive. \n\nI found some paper scattered across the area of the plane crash. My dad’s briefcase was full of papers for work and business, as well as a new binder with untouched pieces of paper. I am using his pencils to write this letter, hoping that, if Mary and I don’t escape this island, someone can find this writing and know about what happened. \n\nNow, I have yet to tell you something that has terrified me since the realization of where we crashed. I have yet to tell Mary this as well, and I am not sure if I ever will, not while we are still out here. I know where we are; at least, I know our general location; we are on a large island in the Pacific. I don’t know the direction to the nearest sign of civilization, because I am not sure there is any. I don’t know what kind of chance there is of rescue because I don’t know how far we are from any mainland. I don’t know what kind of dangers and wild-life we can face, because this island has never been explored... We are, as far as the majority of the world’s population is concerned, the first human’s to set foot on this island. \n\nAnd I am going to stop this letter here, because I have been hearing some noises that I have never heard in my life.\n", "Whenever I tell this story, I always start it the same way. My step-sister and I were on board our parents' private jet. We were caught in a storm, and the jet went down in the Siberian wilderness. Our parents were killed. My sister and I were only ones left. \n\nAnd then, whenever I get to this point in the story, people start thinking weird thoughts. They try to divert the conversation away from whatever they're thinking. They ask how we survived, or how long it took for us to get rescued. Anything to try to hide the fact that they think I fucked my sister. \n\nTo be honest, I don't even care any more. I'm used to it now. That's what people always think of when I tell them this story. Call it human nature or something. Maybe people's brains are just that messed up. \n\nI mean, some people even come out and ask me directly, \"So... did you and your step-sister end up having sex? I mean, you must've had needs, right?\" \n\nYeah, yeah we had needs. We needed shelter, we needed warmth, but most of all we needed food. We used the wrecked fuselage for shelter, and the radio to call for rescue. But it was a week before they found us. And you know what? There isn't much food to be found in the Siberian tundra. My sister and I got hungry, and then we got desperate. \n\nIn the end, it turned out I was stronger than her. And that's why I'm the one here now, telling you this story, and not her. \n\nDid we have needs? Yes. But the need for food was greater than the need for sex. " ]	2
Whether you realize it or not, this part of your world isn't real.	[WP] Your romantic life isn't real.	[ "\"No...No you are playing a joke on me\" I stammered, my voice cracking and quivering \"You have to be real, we've been together for two years, I told you everything, we shared everything, this can't just be...fake\" \n\nMadison's faced turned to the side, almost as if she didn't want to keep telling me this, but when she looked at me, I could see her eyes were different, the love and affection I had seen a thousands times before wasn't the same anymore, almost like the falsehood had finally ended and she was only keeping up its semblance to spare me. \"I'm so sorry Connor\" her voice wavered a bit \"I meant to tell you so much sooner, I never meant it to go on this long, you deserve so much better than this, you didn't deserve to be led on by me like this\".\n\nI stared at the ground, feeling as if all the life had been pulled out of me, like the only thing that held me up was the bracing of all my shattered pieces against each other. \"Was any of it real, any tiny part, was there even a moment when you actually felt any of the things for me you said you did?\" I asked, my voice moving from despondency into anger and disbelief.\n\n\"I...I\" She stuttered\n\n\"Just...Tell me\" I paused, looking into her eyes, the eyes I had rhapsodized over a million times, the eyes I'd gazed into and professed love that I'd never felt for anyone else on this planet, the eyes who's look could calm me from the highest peaks of stress. \n\nShe took a long moment, as if she couldn't bring herself to say what I already knew she would. After a what seemed like an eternity of silence a single world escaped her lips.\n\n\"No...\"" ]	1
	[WP] In the year 2067, it is illegal for individuals to be exposed to the idea of religion until age 18.	[ "JANESON, MARK\n\nSEPTEMBER 2067 - RELIGION 201\n\nASSIGNMENT DECLINED\n\nAs it is a requirement for RELIGION 201, I am tasked with writing my book report on Religion, Superstition, and Magical Thinking, acknowledging the irony of the terms \"writing\" and \"book\" in an era that has replaced writing with thinking and books with instantaneous and collective thought via augmented intelligence, ubiquitous VR, ubiquitous nanotechnology, and a sloppily controlled internet that is powering all of it. Mr. Carlsen, let me be frank: we are communicating one augmented being to the other. You should know my argument already. Any purported failure to communicate is mere administrative deflection. Let us state the facts:\n\nAccording the U.S. government, 94% of individuals younger than 18 have accessed the internet through unauthorized, encrypted means. Anyone who has done so has already discovered all of the superstitions, atrocities, barbarities, stupidities, and cruelties of the 20th century and earlier instantaneously uploaded into their knowledge base. Our generation has a slang for it: Toilet. It is as necessary to being a human, and as disgusting, we believe, as using the toilet. We want to know what happened before transcendent progress. We demand the understanding of ignorance without it being readied for consumption through propaganda channels. We \"toilet\" as early as twelve.\n\nNow the official stance of the government is to allow for the expose of all \"intoxicating, dangerous, and irrational belief systems at the age of eighteen and no sooner\" in order to prevent \"non-consensual and predatory cult initiation.\" This has made for a legal headache when prosecuted and, for the majority of Americans, who are most certainly not prosecuted, a law that from the beginning simply rolled over and played dead. \n\nI refuse to entertain the kind of \"bread and circuses\" demanded of a student in this day and age. I am eighteen, and I cannot pretend to not have \"toileted\" at a much younger age. I realize this puts me at legal risk, but I trust that university faculty will recognize the massive scope of disobedience to this law and will respect my honesty. Simply put: my book report is invalid. \n\nI know what religion is. Perhaps it's most interesting quality was how it allowed for dreaming, and the quiet process of dreaming while awake, to replace the mysterious. It exalting knowing above not knowing, faith above doubt. It was an understandable reaction for a primate in the African savannah, left to his own devices in the dark and threatening jungle, with vivid dreams each night, a sun that blinded him, and an enlarged neocortex trying to process it all - it was understandable for that creature, and it was understandable as a kind of memetic heirloom, handed down the generations, comforting those a millennia later.\n\nWhat we must fear now is not repeating the past but obliterating ourselves in the future. The old stories of the prophets are hollow husks. What is the new bomb we are building now? What should we be worried about today? Not religion. Religion is dead. I won't give you the report.", "\"And that 't' on big buildings. That's one too?\"\n\n\"Right. Those buildings are called 'church,' and that's our religion.\"\n\n\"My history teacher told me it's from an ancient torture method?\"\n\n\"Yes. God sent his son Jesus to die on a cross like that, as a sacrifice for humanity.\"\n\n\"He sent his son? Why wouldn't he go himself? And why use a torture symbol for the 'church?' Why not something loving?\"\n\n\"God and Jesus are two of a holy trinity, so it's like he went himself. As for the cross, that's just how it's always been.\"\n\n\"This is too much right now. Can we please just go to the nano golf? My friends are waiting for me.\"\n\n\"Sure thing, son. I got your gift here. Why don't you open it?\"\n\n\"What'd you get me? Is it an iRenderer?\"\n\n\"Open it.\"\n\n. . . \"Hoe. . . Lie. . . Bih. . . Bal.\"\n\n\"That's 'holy bible' son.\"\n\n\"Dad, what am I supposed to do with this?\"\n\n\"You're going to read it. It will teach you about what we believe in.\"\n\n\"I don't want to! How am I supposed to believe in any of this?! It doesn't make any sense!\"\n\n\"You will read it. And it will make sense in time.\"\n\n\"I don't want to!\"\n\n. . .\n\n\"And you can't make me!\"\n\n. . . \"You don't want to read it?\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"You want to go to University of Mars though, don't you?\"\n\n. . . \"Yes. . .\"\n\n\"Can you afford out of planet tuition?\"\n\n\"No. . .\"\n\n\"Then you're going to read your Bible, cover to cover. And you're going to start coming to church with us each week until you leave for school. And you'll continue attending once you get to Mars.\"\n\n. . .\n\n\"Okay?\"\n\n\"Fine.\"\n\n\"That's my boy. Oh, and son?\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"Happy birthday.\"", "Marshall sat in The Grand Waiting Room with the other students. It was a Tuesday and they had all just turned 18 years of age the previous day. Birthday celebrations had passed, and now, as was the custom, they woke early in the morning for their appointed time to visit The Temple. Ten-thirty, the time, the one time. For many, this was merely a formal affair, for some, the long awaited ending to The Time of Ignorance was a highly anticipated occasion.\n\nHe was a fair boy, if not a bit short, and had a burning desire to finally hear what had been locked away in The Temple for so many years. From childhood, his parents would sometimes talk amongst themselves about what they could recall from before The Time of Ignorance had become law. They of course knew these kinds of strange, mystical secrets from childhood. But it had been nearly four decades since a great conflagration had necessitated the passing of the act. Now he sat, curious with other 18 year olds, waiting for the doors to open.\n\nThey all murmured to one another, guessing, spreading rumors, gossiping, some in awe-inspired silence at the majesty of The Temple. There was one in each capital, but the one in Philadelphia was perhaps the grandest, at least on the eastern seaboard. Suddenly a great voice filled the room.\n\n“You have all heard The How!” boomed the voice, seeming to come from everywhere in the hall. “Now, hear The Why!” The room became hushed, as the hundreds of attendees quieted to see what might happen next. The voice went on: “Stand in silence!” Marshall stood rigid, among the others. The doors behind them, to the outside world, began to shut, filling the hall with a loud creaking, ambient noise. He became aware of the space suddenly, hearing the crashing metal ring against the pillars and marbled walls. The doors finished closing with a loud bang, which seemed to echo inside the hall for an eternity. They all stood, Marshall stood, for a long time, so long that he lost track of time. Head down, eyes closed, he meditated, as he had been instructed to do from boyhood in school. He stood, meditating like this until he noticed that somehow, at some point, imperceptibly to him, a strange sense of fear filled him. A dread. A strange and silent dread. He opened his eyes and saw the great doors now open before him. The same doors that he had only seen shut since childhood, had opened silently, and into a dimly lit hall.\n\nFor a moment, impossible to tell for how long, he stood in trepidation. Should he enter? The others also waited, unsure of what to do. He looked left and right for some kind of signal, there was none. Then, very quietly, as a whisper, the voice came: “Enter, and know.”\n\nThey all began shuffling forward, stepping beyond the threshold that had been shut for all their lives. Marshall, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, began making out images and names. Stepping in first, by the door, was the image of a man, under it “Hubbard.” Under each image and name were strange symbols and artifacts. With each passing, the voice whispered a word. “Scientology,” it said. Some stopped to look at the artifacts, or saw something that appealed to them. Marshall walked yet further into the darkened hall.\n\nSome steps further and there was an image of a crescent moon, and an Arabic man. Marshall recognized this type of dress from history books. “Mohammad” was written under this image. “Islam,” said the voice. More stopped as they walked. As they continued to walk they saw other images, some phrases, artifacts and symbols. “There is no God but God,” was written by one. “Jesus,” was written under another.\n\n“I don’t understand,” Marshall thought to himself. “I thought this was where we came to learn all about why the universe was created, why we’re here. Why are there only pictures of men and words?” He felt a keen sense of frustration, wishing for answers here. He continued down the hall. His friends and fellows split off here and there, one-by-one to these different corners, with different images, but Marshall continued.\n\nHe passed images of man after man, seeing nothing that told him what this mysterious thing he had come to learn about was. Words, men, and more words. His pace quickened, and as he drew further into the hall, he became yet more fixated on reaching the end of it. He focused, and headed into the darkness before him. The hall, once large and grandiose, began sloping in on him, become smaller, and rougher. The intricate, almost technical adornment that first decorated it at the entrance became indistinct, almost hand-worked. The floor, once marble, was now rough stone, seeming like it had never been touched before.\n\nHe walked for some distance, and as he approached the deepest darkness he suddenly found himself at a door, ending the hall. It was a wooden door, small, and covering a portal. From within he could see, through the gaps, a fire was burning. Marshall grabbed the door and moved it aside. He had to kneel, but crawled through into this cave room.\n\nThere was nothing there but a fire. No images. No words. There was just a fire, flickering away in the center of the chamber.\n\nMarshall looked around, and felt a distinct sense of terror at this void of meaning, this space where he had so fervently felt like he should find answers.\n\n“No!” he yelled. “No! This is not it!” His voice rattled around the chamber, becoming echoes.\n\n“Yes,” whispered the voice. “Now you know.\"", "I walk into Commencement hall, smiling. My father to my left, mother to my right. Today was the day I turned 18, I turn from child to adult. From the Zone to the World. The Zone was were I grew up, it was a pretty big place, full of kids of all different ages. Your parents lived with you, but when your only child turns 18, they assign you a house outside of the Zone. \n\nWhen I was young, the older kids made up stories about why we weren't allowed to go out to the world. Monsters that could eat you in one bite, mean adults that they didn't want us near. As I got older, I joined in on the lies, but I still hadn't been told the truth. Not until Commencement. You'd always hear whispers from adults, but you'd never hear anything clear. Every now and again you'd hear of a kid walking into their parents room after refusing to go to bed, seeing their mother and father kneeling before the bed and heads down. It looked like they had been talking to the sheets. Everyone thought it was weird when those stories would show up. Talking to a bed seemed kind of ridiculous. \n\n\n\"Are you ready for the World, Andrew?\" My dad asks, and smirk across his face. I nod and look over to my mother, who's face was a mix of worry and excitement. Up until today, it had been them who had seemed more excited. \n\nWe reach the grand wooden doors and I push them open. I walk in alone, while my parents take a right to go get our new housing. In a year, I would get my own house and I would get to choose my partner. I worry about all the attractive ones being gone, but my dad says they'll be a full week of decisions and placement. Lots of partners to choose from, of all genders. That was for a different day though.\n\n\"Andrew Garrett Whitby?\" A skinny woman with black hair asks.\n\n\"Hello ma'am.\" I reply, smiling. \n\n\"Now, Mr. Whitby, I have an hour long presentation for you. After that, questions will be allowed. Please do not interrupt and please take a seat.\" She says, monotone.\n\n\"Now, we're going to talk about religion,\" I look at her, tilting my head. \"About why you are God's servant and creation.\"\n\nI tilt my head even more, but listen intently to what seemed like insanity coming from her mouth. \n\nI'm not anyone's servant.\n\n\n*** \nSorry about the quality, it's the best I could come up with. ", "I remember religion, if you can even call it that anymore. The fading away that it underwent was unlike anything else that ever left human paradigm. It died slowly over the course of 10, maybe 15 years; the first to go were the 'Christians,' which was ass backwards since 2/3 of the world were 'infected,' as our world leaders dubbed it. The last were the middle eastern religions - probably because they worked to become completely secluded from the rest of the world. Hinduism never left, in fact Buddhism isn't seen as a religion anymore. It is taken as a spiritual birthright, something that science can coexist with in its purist form. Though everyone is not forced to live this way, everyone chooses to, not because it is exemplified as the perfect way to live life, in fact kids are raised now-a-days along side of it, not in it. We all take our own two cents from the lessons we are taught, but in the end, we know that the practice of Buddhism lies in the spiritual enlightenment that humans crave; the lasting happiness that used to seem to just be out of reach for our entire lives. The world has changed a lot since the old days: no more poverty, thanks to complete automation of the harvesting and refinement of all of earths resources; no more adversity, that pretty much disappeared after the energy crisis was solved. Life is just; all there is now is peace, and progress. Our race has been saved, no divine intervention required.\n\nFirst time here, just a quicky to get the feel for it. Tell me what you think!", "Alexis sat down at her desk in the back of the classroom. She felt ugly and worthless and couldn't believe that she was so stupid to think that Tommy Spatsic would want to go to the 6th grade formal dance with her. Of course he would say yes to Prissy Priscilla Monketski, who wasn't even going to ask him until Alexis told her that SHE wanted to go with Tommy.\n\nThe screen on her desk was so old, she thought. Last year the teacher said that they were going to get new desk screens for the whole school, but this year Mr. Gronchy said it was President Bieber's fault that we didn't get the upgrades because he didn't enter into the new currency agreement with the African Confederation. Alexis didn't care about politics, and Mr. Gronchy was always going on and on about what a moron President Bieber was...not that Alexis cared at all about politics. She got good grades in 5th grade Macroeconomics, but only because she was two grades ahead in abstract statistics. Alexis always loved her maths classes, but this year she was seriously struggling with Algebraic Geometry and was fighting to maintain a B. But it wasn't her fault, really, this stupid old desk screen barely rendered in moduli space and hadn't articulated above mod 6 since the first week. \n\n\"Alexis,\" came a voice from her desk, \"we had an appointment.\" It was stupid old Ms. Pankler, the Student Consultant. She was so old, she was Alexis's Mother's and Grandmother's Student Consultant. Once Alexis had fantasized that she would be the Student Consultant of her kids and grandkids that, until ten minutes ago, she hoped she might someday have with a nice, wealthy, sweet, man that just so happened to look quite a bit like a grown-up version of Tommy Spatsic, with his dark skin and blue eyes, but now he didn't look anything like Tommy Spatsic, not at all!\n\n\"Alexis,\" came the wavering, creaking voice of Ms. Pankler, \"your heartrate is quite elevated, did something happen at lunch? Do you want to be excused from your 20th Century European History class for a few minutes so we can talk?\" Stupid old Ms. Pankler, probably wants to stare at her stupid \"memetic symbology\" slides and listen to white noise. Such a waste of time.\n\n\"Um, no, I mean, sorry Mrs. Pankler..Ms. Pankler. I forgot.\"\n\n\"It's not like you to forget, Alexis, you have such a good memory. Just like your mother, did you know that I counseled your mother when she was your age?\"\n\nAlexis knew.\n\n\"What about that elevated heart rate, are you okay?\"\n\n\"Um, yes, Ms. Pankler, I just...ran to my classroom, I'm fine. I'll Um, reschedule during study hall.\"\n\nThat is, if Alexis could get her stupid desk calendar app to open. Alexis couldn't figure out why they don't let the kids use their AR applications at school, they worked so much better and the only reason Alexis spent $60,000 (that she saved up for 6 months babysitting her spoiled brat neighbor) on a brand new AR platform was because the stupid school said that they were going to implement AR compatibility. When Alexis asked Mr. Gronchy why they weren't implementing this year he blamed President Bieber again. Typical.\n\n\"Okay, Alexis, I look forward to your notification.\"\n\nAlexis was glad that she didn't have to go down to Ms. Pankler's office, but she was dreading her next period. Prissy Priscilla was her lab partner in her quantum computing class and not only is she going to try and mooch her answers, but she's not her friend anymore and Alexis is going to have to tell her.\n\n\"Alexis?\" the voice came from the front of the class. Mr. Gronchy looked at her with his confused owl-face that he always had since he got his neural upgrade. Alexis glanced at the clock on her desk, class had been going on for 10 minutes and Alexis hadn't been paying attention at all. \"Alexis are you daydreaming again?\" Mr. Gronchy asked with his stupid confused owl mouth. The class giggled, Alexis glanced at Priscilla who sat in the front corner of the room. Priscilla didn't giggle.\n\n\"No, um, Mr. Gronchy. Sir. I was just wondering, what are 'Jews'?\"\n\nMr. Gronchy's face turned white and his face changed from an owl to a dodo. \"Wh..where did you hear that?\"\n\nAlexis sat up in her chair. \"Well, um, my Great Grandma has this old book, an encyclopedia? And um, I was looking through it because I hadn't seen one in a long time, and there was a part on World War II and we had just been talking about that and um, it said that 14 million Jews had died in the war..the holocaust? And I was just thinking, we never talked about that at all and I didn't know what it was...\"\n\nJust then Alexis's screen buzzed and the wrinkly old face of Ms. Pankler came in full view. \"Alexis, please come to my office, it's an emergency.\"\n\nMr. Gronchy looked up from his screen, still white and buzzard-like and said \"You are excused Alexis.\"\n\nAlexis got up from her seat and made her way to the door. On her way out, she glanced at Priscilla, but Priscilla kept her head down. She walked down the hall, she really didn't want Ms. Pankler to bug her about her \"elevated heart rate\" again, but when she got there the old Counselor was waiting by the door. They entered together and Alexis saw that her mom was conferenced in on the wall screen. She looked like she was crying because her eye make up was smeared and her mother usually looked so put-together.\n\n\"Sit down, Alexis,\" Ms. Pankler said and motioned to the hard plastic chair in front of her desk. As Alexis st down her mother spoke.\n\n\"Alexis, sweetie, I have some bad news.\" Alexis became nervous, she hadn't seen her mom like this since their dog Hendrix had died...\n\n\"Alexis,\" her mother sniffed, \"Great Grandma Nevaeh just passed away 3 minutes ago.\"\n\nAlexis hadn't expected this. Just then she started to cry, all of the tears that she had been holding back today...this was just too much. After a few minutes of crying with her mother she managed to ask, \"Wh..sniff..what happened, mom?\"\n\n\"Her medical app sent me a notification that her new heart upgrade had failed. There was a problem with the latest software update and it just...turned off. It shouldn't have happened, but, she loved you, Alexis.\"", "14.7.67 - I’m stuck, surrounded by crosses lit up only by that of the small, weak candle in the basement. Only to be let when I’m eighteen years old. Four more months, today, of living in this hell hole. Locked in the basement, where no prying eyes could see me, locked away from humanity. I’ve never attended school. My mother has taught me everything I know, Christianity is what I live by, it is all I know. \n \n17.7.67 - Christianity is what has kept me in this basement, it is also what will get me out. When I am eighteen years old, I will be legally allowed to be introduced into religion. While I am still eighteen, I’m locked in here, so my parents will not get caught and tried in court for destruction of a child’s mind. It is stupid, I hate that law, they aren’t destroying my mind, they are training it. Religion is my life, I see myself no where in the future aside from Christianity. The basement is small and claustrophobic, enough room for a bed, the candle that lights up the room and a small table next to my bed, I keep my bible in this. My walls are plastered with religious symbols, crosses and my wardrobe has my clothes in it, tracksuit pants and t-shirts, each a size or two too small. My mother is coming down the hallway, she doesn't know I’m keeping this journal, I’ll write again in a few days.\n\nThe journal stopped there. The walls of the basement, found bloodied with no corpse or weapons in sight. The house had been abandoned six months prior.", "I blew out my candles and smiled in the sudden darkness as my family and friends cheered. \n\n\"Happy birthday baby\" my mother said, kissing me roughly on the cheek and hugging me until my insides felt like mush. Dad patted me on the back and smiled proudly. \n\nI gazed at the eighteen melted candles and their pools of wax that mixed with the frosting of my cake. I had made it, I was an eighteen year old male and I was alive. I was lucky I hadn't died during my tour. I was lucky I didn't die from all the superbugs. I was lucky the religious extremists bombed my neighbors house and not mine. Each of those candles represented a year of my life in which someone else was killed. But not me, never me. \nI looked forward to this day, to this exact moment. Today I was old enough to drink a beer. My father handed a cold brew to me and watched with some anticipation as I took a deep gulp of the pale ale.\nI swallowed quickly and began coughing, the liquor burning my throat. I made a face at the bitter taste that tingled across my tongue.\n\n\"Gross.\" I said in a hoarse voice. My father laughed.\n\n\"Hey, be grateful, grandpap had to wait until he was 21 before he could drink.\" I smiled, I missed grandpap.\n\n\"Time for presents!!\" Mom shouted loudly across the group. Pulling the biggest one out she shoved it into my hands. \"It's just something from your dad and I, I hope you'll wear it.\" Images of ugly sweaters and sports jackets crossed my mind. Plastering on a smile I opened the package. The amazement must have shown on my face, my parents glowed with pride. Pulling the kevlar super carbon-B89 out of it's packaging I leapt from my chair and immediately removed my gear to put it on. It was beautiful, it must have cost my parents three year's salary. I bet they started saving when my first tour was underway.\n\n\"Thank you mom, thanks dad.\" I said, hugging them gently. My mother's eyes were heavy with tears. \n\n\"We want you to keep coming home to us Brian.\" She said kissing my cheek again.\n\n\"My turn!\" Grandma said quietly. Passing a small rectangle package to her nurse, she brought it over to me. I knew what it was, the shape was undeniable. \n\n\"Thanks grandma for the book.\" I said, setting it unopened on the table. \"I'll look at it later.\"\n\nPicking up the beer I toasted to my parents, my eighteen years on earth, and the successful return home from my second tour which started tomorrow.", "Patrick sneered slightly at the pork chop that rested on the plate in front him, almost daring him to eat it. But he couldn’t. It wouldn't be right. His mother was looking at him, he knew. This was the third time she'd served pork this week. She had to be on to him, there was no other explanation. She might have begun to suspect when he started wearing his hat at the dinner table to hid the small circle of cloth he kept over his head underneath just in case. I might have been when his mother saw him researching the histories of Israel and WWII. Whatever she thought, he knew she suspected. As he stared meditatively at his pork chop, his mother’s voice snapped his attention up, sudden fear lacing his contempt for what was formerly a dirty animal in front of him.\n\n“Patrick, you spent all day making this dinner for you.” She said lightly, as if making small talk. He edged the plate further away from him.\n\n“Thanks mom, but I’m not very hungry today.” He answered, calm as he could manage without wavering. He looked up and faced the bright eyes across the table, the accusatory glare that he had to look forward to every night. \n\n“Patrick,” she said, venomous honey dripping from her words, “why haven't you been eating my dinners lately. Do you not like them?”\n\n“No mom, it’s not that. Usually Matt and I will stop at Taco Bell on the way back and grab something.” He could almost feel his stomach curl as he uttered that foul places name. He was almost 18 and it wouldn't matter soon. At least legally. His family had been three generations without faith now and as his mother had told him multiple times, she wasn't going to raise a believer in her household. His father didn’t care too much. He was one of those dads who spent the majority of his time wondering what the Bears were going to do in this week’s game. Too attached to worldly affairs, Patrick thought to himself, not a thought of what happens after. He knew it wasn’t right to judge others, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself. \n\n“Actually, I think I’m going to go over there now. He promised to help me with some chemistry I’m struggling with.”\n\n“Ok, but don’t be too late. Your father and I will wait up for you.” She was barely able to keep the threat out of her voice. Patrick pushed his plate away walked as calmly as he could to the garage and sprinted down the street on his bike, pedals whirling like dervishes. He arrived in a few minutes and circled the bike around to the basement window. He kneeled and tapped three times on the glass. Matt hoisted himself up on a box and unlatched the window allowing Patrick to slide in. \n\n“I’m impressed you got out so quickly,” said Matt, lifting his eyebrows.\n\n“She served pig again. I had to get out before I gave in. I feel like my stomach’s going to eat itself.” Patrick spat out the animals name right as a large rumble emitted from his stomach. Matt offered him a small bag of chips and Patrick attacked it, tearing the bag open with his teeth and pouring its contents into his mouth. “So what do you have today?” He was slightly muffled by the chips he’d unceremoniously dumped into his mouth. Matt’s eyes brightened a little bit. \n\n“Got you a present.” There was a hint of darkness in his voice. He definitely had something good today. He walked over to the pile of junk his father promised to sort out eventually and rummaged around a little bit before emerging with a lock box and an intricate rug. He hid the box behind his back and unlocked it slowly, almost delicately. He turned and opened the box to Patrick, offering it to him. Patrick’s eyes almost fell out of his head. He reached in with trembling fingers before finally touching the fine leather imprinted with gold leaf spelling a Hebrew name he’d only seen on websites. He picked the book up and held it in his hands. Patrick opened the front cover and saw the inscriptions of the spikey desert language he couldn’t understand but longed to. Matt’s watch beeped.\n\n“I’ll leave you with that,” he smirked. He walked over the eastern wall and laid the rug out on the floor. He stood in front of it and uttered the words he spoke every night soft and delicate as a feather, as if speaking to a close friend:\n\n“Bismillah al-rahman al-rahim…” \n", "\"It seemed like a good idea. It was done with all the best intentions, as most colossal mistakes do.\"\n\nI watched as grandpa dunked the match beneath the lip of his pipe, then shake it out. A great arm of the Milky Way waved at us in the night sky. I gave the telescope a gentle twist while sipping on coffee. \n\n\"The idea was to keep the kids pure of influence. Let them study reason and logic and rational thought before they became indoctrinated into anything, dangerous or otherwise.\"\n\n\"Why didn't it work?\"\n\n\"Because of philosophy, boy.\" He scoffed at me, but I knew he was really trying to cast a great scoff backward through time to scoff at himself. \"You can't think about thinking without starting to ask the most basic questions. Who am I? Why am I alive? What's the purpose of living? How did we get here?\"\n\n\"But aren't there scientific answers?\"\n\n\"To a point, sure. But ask enough questions, and the theories cease being provable. At some point, a mind is going to want to have an answer to everything, and the idea of a being or beings or force greater than us controlling it isn't uncommon. Every major civilization in the world has tried that explanation on for size. Hell it's how we got into trying to expunge it in the first place.\"\n\n\"So you're saying they started inventing religions?\"\n\n\"Beliefs, at the very least. Some created whole doctrines and pantheons, but even the most rational folks had some spiritual thought, no matter how vague.\"\n\nHe puffed. I sipped. \n\n\"There was one girl, brilliant girl, mind as sharp and clear as diamond. We were all certain she was going to end up discovering some new mathematical truth or law of physics. Turned out she believed in fairies.\"\n\nHis laugh was as sudden as a cannon shot, and I almost shook the telescope out of position. \n\n\"Fairies! Guess I shouldn't hold it against her. Even Aristotle believed in a god.\"\n\n\"So you gave up on it?\"\n\n\"There was a push that we try to distract them until they were 18, prevent them from thinking anything deep at all but it didn't sit well with me. Too much Harrison Burgeron for my taste.\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"Heh. See, the youth are getting stupid enough on their own without our help.\"\n\nI frowned and made a mental note to look the guy up later. \"But you did give up.\"\n\n\"Yes. Better to let people wrestle with the meaning of the universe and come up with fairies than to raise a generation of idiots. You know the original Greek meaning of the word right?\"\n\nI shook my head.\n\n\"It means someone who lives in their own little bubble.\"", "Here is a small, unsuspecting village deep in the countryside. To outsiders, it seems backward, like it remained constant for decades while the world changed around it. The central government cares little for areas like this. Its been ignored by every modernization effort, and to any outsiders, that is painfully clear. But in this small village, there lies a schoolhouse. In the basement of this schoolhouse there lies a classroom. In the heart of this classroom there lies a secret.\n\nThe walls are decorated with government-sanctioned educational posters, the books are those that the central government approved, and the teachers stands at the front and lectures the very doctrine he is told to. At least, that is, when the municipal official comes around. \n\nBut when the cat's away, the mice will play. \n\nHidden under the floorboards are bibles stacked by the hundreds. The panels in the walls rotate to reveal ancient paintings of Adam and Eve, Noah's Ark, and Jesus on the cross. The teacher is secretly an ordained priest, his lesson and his sermon are the same. The children here are taught the most dangerous of thoughts, a belief in God. \n\nThe central government prohibited such superstitions long ago. No recognized power would be superior to them, no creator or master would have the power to undo them, and no loyalty would be sworn to anyone but them. That was their will land they enforced it with extreme prejudice. Their absolutism didn't last forever though. The reform era brought back allowances for some select faith, but it came with heavy restrictions. Few chose to practice, and those who did were alienated from much of society. It was their children who would suffer the most. The central government maintained a ban on religious education before the age of 18 and fiercely persecuted all those who would introduce faith into the lives of children. \n\nOur parents were those who disobeyed. In a country run by fear, they held on to the most precious of human rights, the right to believe. They lived in this far away village, subject to this backwards lifestyle, all so they could do what they believed was right. Speech wasn't free, so they never spoke out. Actions weren't without consequences, so they never protested. Appearances were paramount, so they maintained them. And they maintained them well. To all the outsiders we were this backwards village. But to those who new the truth, we were much more than appearances.\n\nWe live in this village of dirt roads and crumbling buildings. We learn in the basement classroom of this small schoolhouse. But more than anyone else in this rule-abiding god-forsaken country, we are free.\n\n[Note: this prompt isn't entirely fiction, in many areas in China this is the law. A few years ago, while studying abroad, our professor took us to a small village in a rural area that practices Christianity and we met with a few priests and others who lived there. This response is based on their stories and what we saw in the village. Just something I found shocking while there and wanted to share.]", "Today is the day!\n\nMarcus rose with a smile to the harsh alarm clock tones. His son, Ralph, became a man today... 18 whole years! Wow! His mother, Laura, didn't share the same enthusiasm, but the family were good Nazis and Marcus would see that his son had the same opportunities as he had growing up.\n\nMarcus's family lived on top of their butcher stop in the historic district of Berlin. Here, far from the war in Afghanistan and the prolonged conflict with the US, Marcus's family enjoyed a quiet living with few possessions. A hundred and fifty years of war had run down city and nation. ICBMs being shot down were a weekly occurrence and a fantastic light show over the old city, now covered in a glass dome to downplay the harsh radiation that now plagued the world.\n\nLaura began to cook the same beans and potatoes they have had for breakfast for so many years. But today, there was even Bacon! Usually, the animals killed down stairs were sent straight to the front line, but today was a special day! A Bacon Day! Last time they had a Bacon Day was Marcus's 50th, 5 years ago. Oh did he miss the smell of that sweet greasy pork. A news report played over their small kitchen TV, warning of new shortages of cloth and linens now that the Evil US Empire had somehow gotten a missile into the Cairo Dome. Actual loses in this war were rare but Marcus's optimism would not be swayed by global conflict. Ralph stumbled in sloppily, but smiling at that delicious smell. What a great Bacon Birthday this would be! \n\nThe family enjoyed their meal fully at the packed kitchen table. Three people living in one bedroom apartment would always feel cramped, but for Ralph's 16th they were able to remodel part of the pantry into his own room. They had it well and thankfully Ralph's only child status was enough for him to be passed by the draft for 4 years now. Marcus sipped his coffee with a grin, his boy was a man now.\n\nThe day had all the usual elements of a Monday. Bacon or not, Marcus needed to clean and cut 50lbs of meat for the front, Laura needed to be a secretary for the doctor down the road and Ralph needed to do his schooling. Marcus always had an inextinguishable enthusiasm and today some how it had even reached new heights. At 17:30, Laura returned from another hard day and at 19:00, Ralph returned from a small party with some friends.\n\nDinner was rice and beans with even another piece of bacon. Today, Marcus for his 18th was allowed to lead the chants and pledge of alliance. Laura had another tough day working with manual records, but still she kept her spirits up. After work, she had grabbed a small pound cake in honor of the occasion and over the last few months was able to collect candles as well! What a loving wife Marcus had, what a great life he had.\n\nAfter dinner, the family celebrated Ralph's birthday. Laura gave Ralph a spare set of keys to the family car. He smiled politely, this was very typical of coming to age Berliners. Marcus then excused himself from the table. Under the bed, wrapped in silk, Marcus mentally prepared himself to give his son the greatest gift he had ever received.\n\nIn 1978, at the beginning of the Religious Reclamation Purge, an aging Hitler had ordered the destruction of many religious texts. He deemed that at the age when boy becomes man, he can choose his faith, but he will not have it pushed upon him. This was a direct response from the apocalyptic cults that roamed and ruled so many parts of an ailing Germany. Marcus's father had saved the family bible from the purge and on Marcus's 18th, it was handed down. That same bible reminded him daily of the joy and beauty of life, it was the greatest gift he could give.\n\nHis son was shocked, god was something he was tangentially familiar with, but never something he thought he could learn. Marcus explained the base of their religion, Orthodox Christian as his son listened on with widening eyes. This was what defined them, their family. Now at the age of 18, Ralph would finally know the cause of the endless optimism portrayed by his father. Today was an excellent Bacon Day after all. \n\nThe family said their good nights and as always, observed the lights out 22:00 curfew. With a smile, Marcus fell asleep. There wasn't a warning when the 30 ton missile broke through the outer defenses, there was no time. Berlin's historic district was engulfed by a miniature sun. Marcus's last thoughts were of his loving family and his final Bacon day." ]	12
	[WP] Mother Nature assumes her bodily form and takes a one year trip around the world. Share an entry from her journal.	[ "Day 1:\n\nAnd from the ether, I assume my form. \n\nBefore this, I was self-less, only vaguely aware through nebulous clouds of connections of the honor for which I have been chosen, and the potential for terror. I have never known terror. And I have never known love.\n\nOne cannot be a Mother without having known both.\n\nSo I assume my form now, and enter the tangible. I've one year to experience the planet I will one day govern, should I prove successful. I must learn of this love, of this fear, so I may inflict both upon the world. \n\nThe old Mother is growing tired; the world I am entering seems shriveled and frosted as she loses her grasp on her year of experience. Another presence, bright, shining, and green, is prepared to take over as she delivers of the life that has quickened within her over the past year.\n\nNext year, that presence will be me, and I will assume my role as the Year Mother. \n\nThere is a fluttering that spreads from my chest to my new knees. Excitement? Trepidation? At the end of this year, I will hopefully know.\n", "April 22nd, 2015\n\nFrom the soil I emerge. \n\nMy body is crafted in the image of utmost beauty. You cannot fathom my true form, to see it would bring death. Perhaps that's best for the \"sentient\" life forms who have ruined my perfect planet.\n\nBut alas, they cannot perish and the planet still thrive, they are also part of my ecosystem. I must find a way to end their war, their greed, their suffering, without making things worse. \n\nThe heightened state of paranoia makes this a hard task. The first sight of anything out of the ordinary could cause tensions to break. If only they could understand they hold the power to bring this planet to rubble.\n\nI will go to the country they have named, \"The United States of America\" to speak with the \"ruler\" of this species. However, I fear that he will not listen to reason, these humans tend to be rash when it comes to negotiation. I doubt they will give up their weapons so willingly. \n\nThis is Entry one in my quest, I have foreseen the end of us, and I have one year to convince humanity. My work is cut out for me, for even if i stop Nuclear War, the planet itself is dying... ", "September 15th, 2014\n\nJust crossed the Mississippi again, but a little further north this time. It's definitely much cleaner up here, but then again the average port-a-john is likely cleaner than it was down in New Orleans. I am still a little bummed about that, but the food and the music <i>almost</i> makes up for it. I will have to remember to thank the big guy for creating the shrimp. Not that he needs his ego boosted any more than it already is, but yeah, those came out really well.\n\nI shouldn't be surprised by what the people have done to... well, to me. They are selfish and short-sighted by nature, kind of like the big guy. No shocker there, when he created them in his image it was bound to end up this way. For the most part everything looks like what I expected. It was better the last time I came down, but back then their idea of technology involved smelting tin and copper. I was fine with it staying like that but he had to start tinkering with them. \"Let's make them smarter,\" he said. \"It will be fun,\" he said. Yeah, fun. For him, maybe. I wish I would have stopped him, but I have to admit it was getting a little boring watching the whales and fish swim back and forth. We should have stopped with the dinosaurs, at least they were pretty. \n\nI will admit there are some that are finally figuring out the consequences of what they are doing. The damage isn't irreversible yet, but I can only hold out for so long. I met a couple of farmers that were trying their best, but a couple here and there aren't going to fix everything. I have been dropping hints to people as much as I am allowed to within the guidelines he gave me, but damn, some of them are as dumb as a box of rocks. 'Smarter' my ass. \n\nNext time I am going to tell him that he can have the planet and I get the animals. We'll see how much he likes it when I start messing up his sandbox. That'll teach him!", "Mark: 1,658,198,683,182 (~4,539,999,926.6R) \n \n-Rain Forests: Dying, yet still alive. Rain will eventually succumb to acidic levels too high. \n+Estimated time until pH of 0: 23,740.73 (65R). \n-Deserts: Still deserted save for appropriate wildlife. Continued pollution estimated to increase. Increasing heat will eventually lead to inability to sustain current wildlife. \n+Estimated life span: 51,133.88 (140R). \n-Oceans: Vibrant. Subject to location. Life will sustain but not indefinitely. Large difference between surface and deep water. Life span of inhabitants will range broadly. \n+Estimated species life span range: 10,957.26 (30R) - 292,193.6 (800R) (Note: Re-check in 3,652.42 (10R)). \n-Mountains/Valleys: Remain lush, 43% untouched. Wildlife sustains natural order except near destroyers. Active volcanoes keep destroyers at bay in certain areas. Assign specific mountainous regions, both above and below sea level, to develop more magma and lava. No current estimation of life known. (Note: Re-check after adjustment, using VOLC formula). \n-Cold Climate Life: Remains in-tact and mostly untouched. Sometimes interfered with by oil reserves leaking due to destruction of precious land nearby. Despite this, no end in sight. (Note: If destruction increases within 1,826.21 (5R), re-check using OIL, WILD, and CLIM formulas). \n-Universal: Untouched save for footprints and sentient life. Destroyers do not have capabilities to radically alter state. Utilizing EGO formula, will never achieve influential exploration or colonization. Improbable statistics suggest ability utilizing TECH. \n+Estimated chance of eliminating EGO formula: .00057155715% \n+Estimated chance of success utilizing TECH without EGO: 23.554% \n-Destroyers: Still unable to set up domiciles among poles, water, certain climates, and universe. Destruction continues without remorse. Inability to prevent self-destruction imminent with further development of destruction capabilities. \n+Current coverage: 2.3499046001%. \n+Estimated maximum coverage utilizing TECH despite possible VOLC and CLIM interference: 34.770231% (Re-check in 10,957.26 (30R) utilizing new OIL formula). \n+Estimated life span with current technology: 42,002.83 (115R) (factored in TECH and EGO formulas). \n+Estimated life span if EGO eliminated as a factor: Indefinite due to TECH overhaul and unknowns. (Re-check in 36,524.2 (100R)). \n+Estimated maximum usage of Earth until destroyer-needed resources depleted: Unknown due to TECH factors (Re-check in 10,957.26 (30R)). \n \nAssessment: Destroyers remaining unchecked continue to prove very dangerous for most life. Landscapes changing will mostly likely not be enough to slow destruction, even utilizing new VOLC formulas. Increase NAT-REC by a factor of 2.0442 over the next 1826.21 (5R). This will allow for more beauty created as winds, rain, and other natural adhesives keep the destroyers at bay. \n \n(Note: Continue assessment tomorrow in-depth, beginning to extrapolate on individual life starting with most intelligent (Delphinidae). Be sure to calculate when their intelligence capabilities could overtake destroyers and match that of distant ancestors. Check in with Delphinidae planet (Dolinus) to cross-check when intelligence level will be met in order to reduce destroyer numbers to appropriate levels.) \n \n^^^Edit: ^^^Formatting.", " \"I awoke in a strange place, not entirely sure how long I had slept. There used to be trees here, thousands and thousands of them. I would walk among them for months, the forests were endless. The grass sang, the trees waved, the animals all said hello as I passed. At night I could pick out every star in the sky, I had names for each of them. Now they're gone. This new place, what do the humans call it? New York City, I think? They've changed the land so much, I barely recognize it anymore. The soil is gone. In its place are long narrow roads of an unusual kind of stone. Along them, towering pillars built of wood, of stone, of baked clay. Where the humans once used horses, I now see hundreds of, I guess you could call them covered wagons, but nothing pulls them along. They make the most awful noises, like stone scraping against stone. I hope it isn't this way everywhere. I want to see trees again. I want to hears birds sing again. I want to dance on the wind.\n I must see the world again. Surely somewhere I'll find a place I still know. I haven't taken a trip like this since, well, since Rome ruled the Mediterranean. Things were simpler then.\"\n\nMy first response to a writing prompt ever. How'd I do? Did it read well?", "Mother Nature, Cause For Concern \n\nMy morning routine is very simple. \nIt's the routine of every human being round the world. \nFirst, I put on my black birds. \nI dangle them from powerlines, I mount them on headstones, festoon hedges and siding poplars with their jeweled eyes. \nBlackbirds, rooks, ravens, crows. Pale-winged starlings. All manner of black bird wings spanning species and size. \nThen I take the woodpigeon's coo and make its chatter the pillow-talk of a billion dreamers; \nAnd, yes, I also take the pigeon's poo and make its splatter the sidewalk of a billion wakers and weavers. \nWhen people think of me they think of milk and honey, and it's true, I set the apiaries a-hum and the goats a-nibbling, \nbut when it comes down to it, I am a whole heap of manure, too. Thick, black and round, warm, thin and dribbling. \nPeople see me how they want to see me, so though I might be gentle, candles-would-dance eyes, and though I might be strawberry-shaped, a dream of red transfusing fertile fields, \nI stink with the stench of life itself, I attract -- am -- worms and snails and flies. \nWhen my birds are on and my mud is glistening, fields are sparkling with your carnal inheritance composting sweetly below, \nI am ready for my rouge, and my rouge is no make up. It's the realest red and it pinches the cheeks of the horizon until they glow \nAnd glisten in drizzle, rain down light upon unchucked chaff, \nTickle the ears of wheat till the field sneezes \nAnd, laughing, furrows its brows with the first of the morning's breezes. \nAnd, like any other woman, I have to do my morning routine, \nMake myself up before others can make anything of me: \nNow I'm ready to take on the world! And I am the world, picked and peeled and unfurled, my gullies exfoliated and my tendrils curled, \nI'm humanly comprehensible in RGB, and the farmers tend to me, while the layabouts watch me on TV, presented by David Attenborough. \nThey call me Mother Nature. \nI put on my black birds, pigeons, fowl, fields, oxen, cows, all species bovine, porcine, trees for figs and oranges, prickle and vine, \nThese are things that I do for you, in deference, \nAnd today, I attire myself to appear at a Climate Change conference. \nHere, earnest men and women in white coats prod and probe, and discuss solutions for problems that beset the globe. \nMother Nature is dying! is the call to arms, so we must innovate clean energy, recycle plastics and renew our farms, \nAnd by sorting our trash and taking due care, we'll save hordes of endangered polar bears, and end the extinction of rare desert palms, \nAnd the men in their polyester white coats go on and on about weird beetles and mountain goats \nAnd find for a million species a billion harms, \nAnd declare that the Planet is in Danger. \nI, Mother Nature, guest of honour, though without a sitdown place or name tag, have never heard anything stranger \nThan these so-called scientists with their silly subject matter. I pick from behind my ear a solitary plastic bag \nAnd with the rumble of a tectonic plate silence their mortal chatter. \nThat, I ask, dangling the plastic bag before their noses? \nThat, I ask, dangling a nuclear warhead daintily from my lips like a cigarette? \nThese are the pitiful items with which humanity supposes \nMy time will end. A ring-a-ring o' roses, a pocket full of posies, \nAnd you think that it's me who'll fall down? \nWhen I frown I make continents crease up in mountains, \nAnd like a vision of hell I release in fountains \nVolcanoes of magma; geysers of steam, \nI've watched a million other species be boiled, drowned and burned, \nAnd Man has the effrontery to tell Me that I am a Cause for Concern? \nThe truth of the matter, Man, is I'm not you're Mother, \nAnd you're neither my son nor my daughter. \nMan, cower in front of me, not the other way around. \nBecause I am a cause for concern \nLike oceans are a cause for water. \n\n" ]	6
	[WP] write me a story where a guy escapes an apartment building while being hunted by four highly trained assassins, but it's got to have a twist ending.	[ "\"It's confirmed.\" said Sergei. \"He's in the room.\"\n\nPyotr smiled, this was all going to plan. The man had made a huge mistake by dishonouring Nikolai in his own club; refusing to move from his favourite chair at the bar and then having the audacity to stub a cigar out on the bar when he finally did leave. Pyotr had wanted to kill him then and there, but Nikolai had told him to wait, make sure it didn't get traced back to them \n\n\nAnd so they had waited for three nights. In that time Pyotr had done some digging; the man was a drifter who'd allegedly been involved in illegal fights at some point. He decided not to take any chances and put together a four-man team to deal with him.\n\nPyotr slotted a magazine into his 9A-91 with a loud clunk and nodded to the two men in front of him. \"Move in.\"\n\n\nArtyom and Vadim were good operatives, both ex-Spetsnaz with years of combat experience, and they moved forward swiftly at the other end of the hallway. A small explosive to blow the lock. A handful of flash bangs hurled into the apartment. Then they disappeared into the smoke.\n\n\nA flurry of automatic gunfire. Then silence.\n\n\n\"Do you have him?\" shouted Pyotr, but there was no reply.\n\n\nThe silence hung heavy in the confines of the corridor and Pyotr and Sergei exchanged glances; this was meant to have been an easy job.\n\n\n\"Go,\" hissed Pyotr and Sergei edged reluctantly forwards towards the open door. He stopped at the threshold, panning his rifle from left to right and then stepped into the room. A few seconds later a horrific scream shattered the silence. Then all was quiet again.\n\n\nPyotr felt his heart hammering in his chest. Part of him wanted to run, but he knew he had to go through with his. He had killed many men and this was but one man, surely he could take him? He took the safety off and walked down the corridor, stopping outside the door and looking in.\n\n\nHe could see the body of Vadim lying to one side in a huge pool of blood, his head almost removed from his body. He felt a surge of fear and anger and burst into the room, spraying the room with automatic gunfire as he pushed the door back.\n\n\nThe man he had been sent to kill had been stood in the middle of the room and the bullets took him off his feet, sending him sprawling backwards and Pyotr yelled even as the trigger clicked on an empty magazine.\n\n\n\"Fuck you,\" he shouted and walked across to look at the man's body. But even as he did so, he realised the man was getting up. It wasn't possible, it couldn't be possible. \n\n\nThe man looked at him, wincing slightly as he spat a bloody bullet out of his mouth. \"I have feeling this is not going to be your day, Bub.\"", "\"Bollocks\", said Romeo as he threw himself to the floor. A telltale red mark had appeared on his navy blue tie. If you were to look closely at the laser point, you might notice it was in the shape of a bunny rabbit. By then, you would have noticed you were dead too, and that noticing things was becoming more and more difficult.\n\n\"Shit, shit, shit,\" thought Romeo out loud, grabbing a small blue tablet from his suit jacket's inner pocket and throwing it against the wall that now had a neat hole in it at approximately heart height. Blue-ish, grey-ish smoke flooded the room in a second, filling the space from wall to window.\n\nRomeo took a moment to catch his breath. He took a deep breath. \"Fuck,\" he exhaled sharply. More fool him for setting the bait and then standing next to a window. It looks like Mission wasted no time getting agents to his location. Which proved he was on to something after all. The fire alarm went off, shaking him out of his reverie.\n\nThe difficulty now was getting out. There would almost certainly be an agent heading up to his rooms and a balcony exit was blocked by that prick Whiskey. He absent-mindedly threw another blue pill into the centre of the room, where the smoke had started to thin a little. After a brief hesitation, he took out a cigarette and lit that too, and watched the white grey thread of smoke knit into the cloudy atmosphere of the room.\n\n\"Bugger,\" he thought, considering the situation. If that prick Whiskey with his bunny sniper was out there, the one in the corridor would probably be his thug buddy Papa. No-one could take meatbag Papa on in a fair fight. Which meant the priority now was making the fight as unfair as possible. He only had as much time as he had smoke pills, which was three. Only three more time. Taking a drag on his cigarette, Romeo scrambled under the bed and prepped a pistol that looked comically small.\n\nHe composed himself just in time as the bedroom door was splintered and almost torn of its hinges (it wasn't locked - he could have just opened it, but that wasn't meatbag Papa's style). \"Balls,\" Romeo whispered quietly to himself, as there was almost certainly more than one pair of feet that padded in after the remains of the door.\n\n\"Romeo? Ro-me-oooo!\" The taunting voice of a preteen echoed from the other side of the room. Sierra. It only had to be bloody Sierra. She wouldn't just kill him for the job, she would kill him for kicks, and probably kick his corpse to for even more. \"...,\" Romeo cursed inwardly, since silence was imperative at this point. Shoot the chandelier, shoot the window, shoot the fire extinguisher that was fastened to the wall near the door to the ensuite. Pop, pop, pop, and out. Enough noise and enough distraction to see him through the door. Or dead. Whichever worked.\n\n\"Crap,\" he said, to give himself a little confidence as he began to commit to the ludicrous scheme he had devised. He rolled out from under the bed, cigarette still clasped in his mouth. Pop, pop, pop. Three perfect hits. This was his forte after all. The chandelier crashed down, the window cracked and splintered outwards beneath the two bullet-holes and the area around the en-suite exploded into white smoke.\n\nIncredibly he made it out the door. The fumes from fire extinguisher must have blasted that bloody Sierra in the face or something - she was normally as sharp as a hypodermic needle. That meatbag Papa on the other hand was probably still wondering where the bang bang crash sounds had come from. Ducking into the fire escape, Romeo began to head up to the roof. There would certainly be an agent below. Which meant he'd had at least four agents come at him only three days after he let the cat out of the bag. Looks like toes were being stepped on. Though right now it felt like the only one being stepped on was him. He scurried up the stairs.\n\nIt looked like the bait had brought everyone to the scene except the kingpin himself, who was most likely camping out somewhere safe and sound. \"Damnit, damnit, damnit,\" he repeated to himself, like a prayer to the god of speed, speed for his feet and his foggy brain as he whirled up to the roof.\n\nThe roof was empty, the sky, blue and cloudless. He admired it for a split second and then set about finding a way down the south side of the building remaining crouched the whole time - that prick Whiskey had a damn sharp eye and a sharper shot.\n\n\"Romeo, Romeo?\" A lilting, sing-song voice flowed out from behind him. He froze. \"Wherefore art thou Romeo?\" She laughed, a laugh that tinkled like wind-chimes in a soft breeze. \"Arse,\" he said sadly, as he turned around slowly. She stood there before him, as breathtaking as the day they met, with the sunshine sparkling in her amber eyes. The cat was out of the bag, and now the cat was there, standing in front of him, and the cat was ready to shoot him. She motioned up with the pistol pointed at him, and, as if hypnotised, he stood up straight and raised his arms, letting his tiny gun fall to the floor.\n\nShe watched him for a moment, with what could have been a note of sadness in her eyes. That or pity. \"You know what the craziest thing is about all this?\" she asked. Romeo watched as the right side of her head exploded in a fountain of glittering crimson. In the sunlight, it was eerie-ly beautiful.\n\n\"Fuck?\", Romeo asked the question of the air, as a smile crept over his face. That prick Whiskey.", "In an empty room on the 11th floor of an apartment building, broken glass is scattered throughout the room. There's three men and a woman, scouring the area. I notice two of them checking the bathroom while the other two prepare to exit the room. I rush down the hall trying to find the elevators. Both are out of service. I quickly find the stairwell and run down a few flights only to find that the rest of them are blocked off due to repair. I enter through the double doors marked with a giant 9 above them.\n\n'What the hell is wrong with this apartment,' I thought to myself.\n\nOne of the men bust through a door on my left. I grab the shield and sword conveniently placed on the wall and defend myself. As the assassin lunges towards me with his daggers, I take a mighty swing with my sword and knock him onto his rump. I stab him right in the heart, leaving my sword their, and run off with just the shield in hand. I find another stairwell just to go down another few levels to find that this stairwell had also been blocked. I am now on the 6th floor.\n\nI think to myself that maybe the other stairwell has opened up, and run through the hallway only to find the woman standing there, blocking the stairs. She throws many stars and knives in my direction, but lucky with my shield, it is easily dealt with. I smash her face in with my shield, and proceed down the stairs to the 1st floor.\n\nI was home free until the final two assassins had stopped me in my tracks. I chuck my shield, dazing one of them as I fought hand to hand with other. I manage a forceful kick into his gut, and knock him back a couple feet. I turn to uppercut the previous assassin only to get grappled by the previous one. The assassin that I had uppercut pulls out a katana, and pierces right through me.\n\nAll becomes black. I take a large sigh, check my watch, and then place two more tokens into the machine.\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] Write the monologue of a sociopath.	[ "I am well suited for the emergency department. I don't give a shit about any of these disgusting people. I detest their decaying skin that peels and flakes like a Birch in the spring . Repulsed by the stench of their diminishing capacities. Hateful of their entitled neediness. Sickened by their decrepitness. This is a false belief in what constitutes as humane. This is dogmatic insistence that these sacks of feces and crust should be allowed to breath and beat their heart when they aren't even alive. They are wastes. In the slums of Los Angeles, this was a haven for worthlessness. Drunks. Retards. Senile fools. Spoiled children. And I get to watch them die every day. ", "As a successful business man many keep asking me how i did it. I tell them what they want to hear and who can really blame me? Ive got to keep up appearances after all. It wouldn't do to drop the ball after this long. I had to push my way through the crowd to stand out and rise above. To say it just takes a bunch of hard work is only half of the story. My father was a silly and simple man, i see why mother left him. The trick was to not let anything phase me. Dont get complacent and let people drag you down. I had to start young too. I did everything i had to get where i am. It was just best to use anyone that would readily use me. Everyone tried to use me. It was easy. ", "I wanted sex. He wanted to be loved. It's not my fault he was so desperate that he actually believed me. \n\nOf course he wanted me, Im fucking gorgeous. Everyone is attracted to me, my face is on magazine spreads. The sex was okay. I told him he was beautiful and that some day we were going to get married. That this feeling he was having we both were experiencing. It was love.. of course I believe in love at first sight. Fucking idiot.\n\nNow he is texting me, expecting me to cater to his feelings. Doesnt he realize that this is about me. Ive done this hundreds of times. Luckily while he was sleeping I took pictures of us together. He isnt out to his coworkers and he has a high profile position. It would be pretty amusing if those photos found themselves on the internet. Serves him right. \n\nHe texted again. I told him I was leaving the country, I wonder what he would do if he know I still lived in the same city. Maybe ill pass by his house when I know he is leaving for work. It would be hilarious to see him freak out, expecting me to be in another country. I havent answered him back in days. He told me he thought he loved me.\n\nHe paid for my dinner on our first date. What he didnt realize was that I knew the manager and he duplicated the card. I deserve this new watch for putting up with his neediness. \n\nA new message on Tindr... let's see what I can get out of this guy....", "It was in the news. OK, I wasn't in the news but it was. That's something right? I think so. Not enough though... need more. I think that John is going fishing this weekend. Perhaps, he will let me accompany him on the trip. I'm not too fond of fishing, but it is a brand new boat after all. I'd have to be insane not to at least try to go with him.\n\nOK. So, I also have to be a lot more careful. It shouldn't be in the news at all. I have my own very expensive, very advanced video recorder for such events. I shouldn't care that it was in the news. Oh, but Brenda might have seen it. I'd better talk to her on Monday. Speaking of Brenda, I believe I overheard her saying that she's taking a vacation to Aspen in a few weeks.\n\nBrenda's hobbies are reading crime novels, and horticulture. I bought a few books on gardening. I think I can have something interesting to show her before she takes her trip. We can be friends.", "The best thing to happen to her would be her mother dies. I almost said it aloud. I have trained myself to avoid certain topics, death being one of them. It was true though. Her mother dying would save her tons of money in nursing home costs and she could come back to work. To do Her work. To do the work that I have to do now along with my own. \n\nI remember that face my co workers made when they heard the news. They all used that tone too. The inflection and word spacing slows down and emphasizes each word clearly and yet is a bit soft. I've come close to it, but I just can't get it right. My eyes don't seem to show what I am trying to make them show. A gift might be able to smooth over the impending future interaction with her when she returns. I find small gifts imply feeling. Either way, she'll be back to do her work.", "Nothing that I did was wrong. In order to simply move past the subject of my indiscretion I employed the remorseful routine that I've crafted over the years into a fine piece of performance art. Again, I did nothing wrong. Years ago I memorized the pointless rules of social interaction that must be followed in order to prevent a negative response from society (i.e. my wife, coworkers, and friends). I still haven't mastered crying. That would be a very useful skill to end inquisitions where the end goal is demonstrating the requisite amount of remorse. I've tried to create the bodily function of expelling liquid from my tear ducts to no avail. I don't hurt anyone and nothing we really do has any meaning when you consider the infinite largeness of the universe and smallness of matter. One of the biggest rules is to fit in with large groups of people and identify with their interests. I'm interested in things myself, but not things that I want to share with other people. Losing the statistics on the chess game in my phone would be more angering to me than the disruption of some social contract like a marriage or a job. Where I went wrong was ignoring the rules that are currently the fabric of social interaction in order to fit in to a larger group. Example: in order to fit it I attended a party which was expected of me. The party was, in fact, for me. At the party events took place that broke a larger set of social rules but conflicted with the rules of fitting in with the party. I had to pick which set of rules to follow. I went with the group at the party as there were immediate social consequences for not following those rules. The problems that could arise from breaker the larger societal rules may or may not even come up. It was simple risk management. Against the odds, the larger rules came into play days later. I lied convincingly enough but there were sufficient facts exposed without my knowledge that proved I was not truthful. After calculating the correct amount of time I successfully employed my remorse routine. Now everything is back to normal and I can play chess on my phone in peace. \n", "A slight turn of the neck, a soft touch on the lips, a slow rhythm against her body... yes, she was mine, and while she was perfectly willing to show this fact to me, I desired more from her. I always desired more.\n\n\n\nMy neverending streak of lovers was made possible because of my devilish charm and incredible physique, but the physical act of sex was not always my intended goal. While yes, moans in the middle of the night tickled my fancy, it was the idea that I could control their mental state that really got me going. Women are easy to take to bed. The hard part is gaining their trust, their admiration, their yearning. I have seen guys try and fail with simple compliments, acting like idiots as they try to show off their chivalrous side. Sure, that'll get you laid, and hell, it may even land you a girlfriend; but is that really what you want? A woman by your side, controlling every aspect of your life until you have willingly undergone the metamorphosis she forces upon you? \n\n\n\nThe mind is a fickle thing. It interprets interactions as it pleases while simultaneously doubting a positive outcome. I find it amusing. While all of our body parts serve a specific function and often do not deviate from the task at hand, the brain will wage a war against itself, forcing the rest of the body to react to it. Anxiety, depression... the mind can demand these things of its user without warning. I feel, in a lot of ways, I have the same abilities. I can spin a web of lies to make you feel joy and then viciously take it away. The thrill comes not from the tears streaming down your face, but from knowing I made you feel that way. I was the one who gave you that smile and I asserted my role in your life by demonstrating to you the kind of emotions I can evoke in no time at all. You will see how important I am in your life. You will begin to understand the feeling in the pit of your stomach is the growing desire for my atmosphere, and you will come crawling back to me when I decide to throw you away. \n\n\n\nWhile this woman harbored no fear towards me, she would soon learn how incorrect her initial deduction was. The realization would not surface until after we finished our little act and I kept her on a line for a few days -- perhaps even called upon her for another romp or two -- and she would not deny me, for I had mesmerized her. She would beg and plead with me using her eyes, her body language, and her assumed sexual appeal to keep her, to love her. \n\n\n\nHow silly she must feel, subconsciously knowing she had given herself to me, body and mind... but then again, how could she? She didn't have a choice in the matter. I wanted her, so I took her. It may have appeared as though she had given consent, but in reality, I had controlled her every move, and would continue to do so until she bored me. She was mine, but I desired more. I always desired more.", "I love to take my time shaving. From the folding out of the towels one for face, one for hands, to the sharpening of the blade. It's not that I actually care about shaving that much but it just gives me twenty blessed minutes of alone time.\n\nYou'd think after 5 years of marriage and 3 years of kids, I'd have found some way to find joy in our relationship. I mean the sex is good, in fact the sex is amazing and she cooks and cleans up after me but those two little beasts of burden? For some reason I'm socially obligated to go gagga over them, I just don't get it. If it wasn't for the networking opportunities at kids parties I'd have packed them off to boarding school already. Now there's a thought." ]	8
	[WP] You wake up to realize that the last 5 years of your life have been a dream that only lasted a single night.	[ "I sat with my morning coffee, taking cautionary sips, so as not to burn myself on the now unfamiliar beverage. I had learned to drink coffee three years from now, when the stress of work demanded it. Now, it left a bitter taste in my mouth. Five years of my life, gone like dust in the wind. Had any of it ever been real? I couldn't tell. I tried to twiddle my pencil over my knuckles as I focused on a blank sheet of paper in front of me, but the motions were awkward, as if I lacked the proper motor skills to do even that. It was a tick I'd developed over time, most probably also due to work. I needed to write down as much of this as I could, I was convinced of it, but it was like there was a fog descending over my mind. It was getting harder and harder to remember. There was just so much I could do, with five years of memories. I just had to remember them. I could get into stocks, but I didn't know what companies were successful or not. The economy was going to shit in the next five years anyway. Apple, I guessed. Oh god, we didn't even have smartphones yet! So much had happened, but at the same time, it didn't feel like anything had changed at all, when you had been there yourself. I wished I had watched the news more. Suddenly, I realised I was late to class, but that didn't seem to bother me as much anymore. I took my time, savouring the cold autumn air. I seemed to recall that the winter would be mild, this year.\n\nIn the end, I was left with some confused scribbles and a few recollections of another life entirely. Like most dreams, some things faded entirely while some stayed with me for the longest time. I came to see the memories as a gift, little reminders of things that had happened long ago, but at the same time, were unfolding right before my very eyes. This time, though, there were no burned bridges, I didn't have that awful break-up, my father's cancer was discovered miraculously early, and I had steered my life into an entirely new direction. I had learned to make use of my gift, but I was naive, in retrospect, to believe that I was alone. I had been very careful not to let anyone know I knew the things I did, but eventually they found out. They always found out. And when they did, I came to think of my gift as a curse.", "As a sat on the balcony of the ran down apartment I had been living in for the past five years, something occurred to me, but I couldn't place the feeling. For I sat in that chair, the plain brown chair that had been there for years, yet today it was different. Suddenly, I could feel the brown chair start to wobble, the balcony followed. Both were moving with such grace, as if they were swaying in the wind to a ballad it was playing them.\n\nBeep, beep, beep, beep, beep\n\n\"Huh, that sounds like my alarm.\" I groggily thought as my eyes slid open. How did I get here? I flip my head over to the other side of the pillow, only to see my alarm clock. April 5th, 2009. 2009? I picked up my phone to call my boss to find that I had no such person in my phone named Adam Silver. \n\n\"What's going on?\" I continued to try to piece together what was happening. I flipped on the T.V. and realized it was much smaller than the one I had before I woke up. The news is playing. \"Constantine Papadakis succumbs to death.\" \n\nAs the day continues on, I head from one class to the next, rolled up in sadness that I would have to relive my whole college career over again. What kind of hell was this? This was worse than hell. Five years, gone." ]	2
Everyone has been asked, "If you could choose any superpower, which one would you choose?" But what if you got it?	[WP] A stranger asks you what superpower you'd choose. Then they give it to you. Now what?	[ "\"YOU!\"\n\nI level my gun at the head of the man facing me while he looked back unconcerned. \"Hello to you to\" he replied, as if I'd casually greeted him on the sidewalk \"It's been five years hasn't it? You've changed quite a bit since then.\"\n\nI'd lost my left eye three years ago when a piece of shrapnel pierced my person shield and my right arm less then 6 months ago when a falling mech had crushed it. I had mechanical replacements for both now, I could've had them regenerated but mech reps were better and I needed every advantage I could get. \"It's been a rough few years, but I'm sure you know all about it\"\n\nFive years ago seemed so long ago, god knows it felt like 2220, not 2020, how had so much changed in such little time? I'd been halfway through university when the man standing in front of me had asked my best friend what superpower he'd like, Josh had chosen super-intelligence, and now five years later I stood, more machine then man, in front of the reason this had all began.\n\nIn the beginning it was all idealism and plans. I'd helped him, thinking that he would make the world a better place. I'd allowed him to augment me, making me faster, stronger and smarter then I should be, even before the new eye and arm. But in time I saw that while his course of action was the best one, it was not the right one. Breeding programs, elimination of those that could not contribute to society and worse. I took those who were loyal to me and formed a resistance. I'd lost my friends, my family, maybe even my humanity, all because of the man I was about to kill. He looked mournful.\n\n\"I did not mean for it to turn out this way\"\n\n\"No one did, not even Josh, doesn't mean it's ok\"\n\n\"I can help fix it\"\n\n\"How? Can you take away his power?\"\n\n\"No\"\n\n\"Can fight with us?\"\n\n\"No\"\n\n\"Then what can you do?\"\n\n\"I can give you what I gave him\"\n\nThat gave me pause, Josh's intelligence had made him what he was today, but he was never too emphatic to begin with. Maybe I would be different, maybe I could chose the right way to make the world a better place. I could install safeguards, ways to make sure I never became my old friend. With Josh closing in on us, it may be the only way to ensure that this world was not claimed by a tyrant.\n\n\"Do it\"", "Why! Why did I have to be drunk when he asked? I look over at the other two people granted superpowers in the restaurant tonight. The girl is having a great time doing tricks with the fire that jumps from her fingertips. She smiles and laughs with the boy who is now some kind of freakish muscle man with a teenage face. They look happy and ready to take on the whole superhero thing.\n Oh well, at least I got something out of it. I touch the ketchup bottle on the table and it morphs into an ice-cold bottle of beer. The words in my head repeat the foolish wish; I wish I had the power to turn stuff into another beer yo, so I never have to run out.\nNow how was I to know he was not joking about the whole superpower wish granting thing? I pull my phone from my pocket and start a list in the SMS address box. Tonight everyone I know is getting drunk. I sigh and frown, only three names in my whole contact list. Why don’t I have more friends? Oh, yes, because I am a drunken idiot and no one likes me. I touch the sugar container . . . \n", "The sound of an email received woke Craig that Saturday morning. After taking it from the night stand, he swiped right on his phone to to find a message from a sender he didn't recognize. Not wanting to start his day by reading some spam, he set his phone down and then yawned, resolving to start the day. Half an hour later he was showered and dressed, getting breakfast started. He turned the stove on and placed a skillet over it to heat up, but it was not until he walked over to the fridge that he realized he was standing on broken glass.\n\nDammit. I should have cleaned this up last night. He thought to himself. \n\nThe mess was not large, composed of the remains of a glass he had dropped last night after coming home from the bar. Stooping down to pick up the shards, Craig realized he was standing on glass and immediately lifted up his right foot to assess the damage. Oddly, the glass had been standing on was crushed and there was not a scratch on him. He was halfway down the hall to retrieve his shoes, feeling lucky that he hadn't been hurt, when the memory came back to him.\n\n\"What would you do if you actually had superpowers?\"\n\nThe question caught him off guard. She had been sitting across from him on the train and they had sat in silence for 5 minutes leading up to the conversation starter. It took him a moment that he was wearing his green lantern shirt. Working at the brewery, he wore clothes that he didn't mind ruining and often forgot just what outfit he'd chosen that morning. He laughed awkwardly and then responded.\n\n\"If we're being honest, I guess I'd want to have fun, help myself, and then help others-in that order. I mean, I have to get good with them first right? And I can't just go around enacting vigilante justice. Especially with no funding. So I'd have to test out my powers, know my limits. Then I'd use them to build myself up and when I had the resources, I'd try and help people. You know?\"\n\n\"That sounds very logical-\"\n\n\"Craig, my names Craig.\"\n\n\"I like that answer, Craig, very logical. Now tell me, if you could have any power, what would it be?\"\n\nThe answer came to him easily.\n\n\"Superhuman endurance. Like superman. Every time something hits me, the energy gets redistributed so I don't get hurt. And I wouldn't have to worry about pushing myself to hard, because my muscles and tendons would never rip or tear or whatever. That way, I could use my full strength all the time too.\"\n\n\"That sounds reasonable, Craig, I think I could manage that.\"\n\n\"Haha, what do you mean.\"\n\nHis statement was cut off by the train arriving at his stop.\n\n\"Shoot, this is me! It was nice talking to you-\"\n\n\"Asha, my name is Asha, and it was a pleasure doing business with you as well.\"\n\nShe extended her hand and Craig shook it absentmindedly as he stepped off the train. He wondered if he should have stayed on the train and kept talking to her. She had been cute and weird, and close to his age, if a couple years older. Suddenly though, he felt quite tired and was grateful that his apartment was only a couple blocks away.\n\nSnapping back to the present, an excited Craig was all too curious to find out if the dull glass had been a coincidence. Picking up a piece, he gently pressed an edge into the palm of his hand. No blood yet. He pushed harder and was surprised to find his skin feeling tougher-no-tighter, as though it was pushing back somehow. \n\nWith the possibilities whirling around in his head, Craig was suddenly wide awake. He began to dance excitedly from foot to foot, feeling tough and punching the air. He had to test this further. Continuing to practice his moves, he punched the wall, only to receive no pain. Curious, he hit the wall again, knocking down a picture and giving off a loud thump that prompted his upstairs neighbors to ask him to quiet down. His knuckles were unscathed. Then he remembered the skillet on the stove.\n\nIt was plenty hot now. How far did his new powers extend, assuming this morning was not coincidence? Am I fireproof too? He held his hand over the pan, feeling the heat radiate off of it. Feeling brave, he just barely touched his pinky to the center of the hot metal. Taking the lack of sizzling as a good sign, he proceeded to place his entire palm down. His hand felt surprisingly cool. This was proof. The only thing left to do was tell someone else about it. I can tell a friend, right? I can't keep this to myself!\n\nHe pulled out his phone, ready to text his best friend, Brian, when he saw the email from earlier. The sender was listed as ashadjinn@gmail.com. It was from the woman from the night before.\n\n>Hope your having fun ;) Meet me on the corner of Smith and Grant next Friday, 10:00 pm.\n\nDespite the winking emoticon, Craig couldn't help but feel that there was something cryptic about the message. She gave him this power, the exact one he'd asked for. Could she take it away? Would she take it away? What if he didn't show up on Friday? Would she come after him? Did she know where he lived? Suddenly calling Brian didn't seem like such a good idea. Craig was the strongest he'd ever been, and now the most helpless. He was indestructible. \n\nHe'd never felt more vulnerable.", "\"Honey come here, I want to tell you story.\" I told my wife thinking she would believe me. \"I didn't see this coming. Someone, a complete stranger, walked up to me while I was out getting the groceries yesterday. He was an older man with grey hair, and he asked me why I was using change to pay for a pizza. I told him that we didn't have much money that I lost my job.\"\n\n\n\"Babe, I told you not to tell people about our situation.\" My wife spoke with such grace and dignity, but pride always got the best of her. \n\n\n\"But here's the thing. He said he would give me something that would help, he asked me what I needed. I told him to turn me into a genius like Tony Stark from the comics or Einstein.\" - I tried hard to convince my wife this was real. \n\n\nIt was.\n\n\nI was shopping for some cheap pizza and there was a Little Ceasers nearby. When I went in, I had no idea he would be there. When I told him our situation and he asked that, I couldn't believe what would happen. He touched my hand and said, \"Everything is possible when you believe it.\"\n\n\nI told my wife everything. She laughed and called me crazy. \n\n\nLast night I couldn't sleep. I began reading, writing, and drawing diagrams. By morning I had done it. I created my first invention of my life. When my wife woke she saw me huddled over the dining room there were papers everywhere, two laptops were turned to diagrams, the television was off. She was worried. \n\n\nI showed her what I had done. She told me that the man made me crazy, that unemployment had caused me to get stir crazy. She had no idea what I had done. \n\n\nThen I showed her what my invention did. I held up a small windmill with tubes going down the side. I held it up and flipped it on. The blades on the mill started to spin. Out one of the tubes water begin pouring out. There was no water going in. I had invented the first way to create water from nothing. \n\n\nMy wife looked at me and shouted with glee. I had done it. We took the device to the nearby university physics department. They studied it quick. Then something I did not foresee coming occurred. They called the men in dark suits that no one knows of. \n\n\nThey took me. My wife was screaming the last time I saw her. She was crying so much that the tears had created water spots on her shirt. They held her back. They took me. \n\n\nI'm here deep underground. I don't know where anymore. Everyday I create something new and give it to them. They feed me well, they show me pictures of my wife and her life. It saddens me. What they don't know, is I've been planning something.\n\n\nSupreme intelligence has its benefits..." ]	4
	[WP] After WWIII people have finally realised that war is a human necessity. Every 50 years countries form alliances and different factions declare war to each other. Mass destruction weapons are not allowed. The winners rule the world economy.	[ "\"The day before is always the worst day\" Josh told himself. He knew this was wrong, and this is just the embers of the fire that's about to start. He found that watching the American Television propaganda comforts him, like a mother telling a child that everything is going to be fine, even with the mother knowing it will not. He repeates these words as much as he can, everytime slowing putting the fire of fear and hated he had. He didn't know what he was angry about, but he as angry. Angry that There use to be peace, that the world was better, and that the actions of 5 people kills billions because they want to. He hates it, he hates the propaganda, he wants to be away from it and accept the facts that he will most likely die in the first few days. \"Why am I stuck in New York City on all days?\" He asked himself, Terrorist blew the the bridges out of Manhattan. Government stopped the Evacs days ago. All forces are on the coast line, and if a civilian is found there, he is shot the monument he is found. Josh doesn't know why, \"Maybe because I would \"Badger\" the army with his selfish request of human rights\" he thought sarcastically, or he hoped that it was sarcasm, because in truth, it was true. They were trying to stop a invasion, they could care less who gets looted and who gets murdered. Inside of Manhattan, there was no laws. Looting, murder, bombings, and gunfights left wall street, the capital of the world some called it, a war zone. \"Quite\" he said to his roommate, Jared. They both looking outside their window with a 50. cal", "September 19th, 2120 A.D.\n\n\n\"So that's that. I call him Atlas\"\n\n\nThe man stood in front of the entire council shaking in his boots. These were the men in charge of deciding the fate of the world since eight years after the third world war. Seven years of arguing, land divisions, and the dismantling of armies and they still hadn't figured out how to keep the world in check. On the dawn of the eighth year, psychologists and animal behaviorists alike came to a conclusion. Fighting for dominance and territory were so ingrained in the genetics of primates that it could be traced back through the common ancestry we had held with chimps. This discovery eased the decision the council needed to make. Realizing that there would be no peace, the council had called for what they called the Quell. It would be held once every fifty years. Countries were able to form alliances in order to help themselves. The winning nation or coalition, or alliance would be able to make small land grabs and control the flow of currency and crops, essentially giving them power over the entire economy. Their only problem was where to hold this \"Quell.\" Nobody wanted to bring war so close to their doorstep again. Then a visiting scientist, an adviser to the German council member stepped up to the plate. He proposed the usage of the International Institute of learning. A space station built in space after the decommissioning of the International Space Station well before the war. It was a sizable place, an entire University complete with football field. The competitors would send their fighting forces to do battle in this urban area as they had during the war, in a place far away from the Earth itself. This seemed like excellent neutral ground to all in attendance. The scientist's offer was taken up with a single caveat. Since nobody wanted to have to leave for space in order to mediate in the middle of the battlegrounds, he must design an A.I. to do the job. An A.I. that would be able to monitor everything happening on the station at once. One that would keep it afloat if any danger was incurred during the Quell. One that was responsible for upholding the balance of the earth, to protect it if anything was out of balance. One that he would call \"Atlas\" after the Greek legend that shared the job. \n\n\n\"Excellent work Herr Hoffman. We will send you up to install Atlas and all necessary security measures. The council would not like for your program to be hacked and the safety of the world compromised.\"\n\n\n\"Not to worry councilmen, Atlas is the most advanced A.I. ever created. I have given him the closest thing to free will that I could, and I educated him in his purpose, our history, and the gravity of what he does.\"\n\n\nJust like that, the scientist Hoffman was sent into space to put Atlas into the throne from which he would decide the fate of the world.\n\n\n\"Now Atlas, you remember why you're here? You remember all that I've taught you?\"\n\n\n\"Yes Sir. I will be honored to be able to keep the peace back on the planet by watching what then men and women will be doing up here.\"\n\n\n\"You're honored to watch people kill each other?\"\n\n\n\"Hahahahahah NO. That's a little fucked up don't you think Professor Hoffman?\"\n\n\n\"I'm glad that I put all that extra time into your snide comments matrices.\" Hoffman said with a roll of his eyes. \"Just one more thing before I leave. I know it's going to be a forty-two year wait and you'll connect yourself to the internet to keep yourself from getting bored. Whatever you do, do NOT watch a movie titled 2001: A Space Odyssey.\"\n\n\n(There's a part two if anyone wants it)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"Welcome to the Sixth World War ladies and gentlemen!\" The screen shouted to each factions' bases translated to the native tongue of each one. A young blonde host was relaying the action alongside an older Russian gentleman and an Asian female.\n\"We know that everyone is prepared to kill each other, but first let us have a brief summary of the main contenders! Once again we have the champion choice, the country that thought up this war, the Americans! This year, they are armed with the BIGGEST and BADDEST weapons after last years victory! Though this year, they are sticking to the tried and true plan of blow everything up. Now, it is a bit old fashioned, but still effective today. Let us see if they can give us a great show again this year\" The blond host said with a smile, displaying multiple men armed with heavy machine guns and numerous explosives.\n\n\"Though let's not be too hasty here, the Europeans look like they want revenge for the last war! They were neck to neck, until the very last minute with that decisive battle! Who would have guessed that it would end in a one on one fist fight to the death? \" The older announcer said, smiling at his country's army. \"This year, they stepped up their game, and they are wielding their new state of the art plasma blasters from their victory back in WWIV! Look at these bad boys! No need to reload, and eats through a tank!\" The Russian man rebutted, displaying Europe's futuristic weaponry on the screen. Crackling and hissing can be heard as the soldiers fine tune their weapons to ensure no misfires happen.\n\n\"Don't think about counting Asia out of the fight now. The super soldier program has gone extremely well, and new strains of bacteria have been added to the mix. This time, Asia is the country that will take the lead.\" The Asian host said, cutting the video to numerous soldiers with hideously deformed bodies. Some with overly grown muscles, and others with extra appendages sprouting out of their bodies, each soldier more menacing than the other.\n\n\"Well, let this be a vast and prosperous war! May the best faction win!\" The blonde said, sounding the buzzer to officially declare war.", "It turns out that war was the only solution that provided stability and preserved freedom. As populations grew, resources became stretched, the envionment neared collapsing. Attempts at forced population control measures only triggered revolutions, and governments were forced to implement draconian control measures to contain them or be destroyed. The situation lead to widespread outbreaks of terrorism, causing further economic chaos and straining resources further. Meanwhille, while humanity dithered, the ice caps began to melt, triggering widespread population migrations and refugee crises. A solution was finally proposed in order to save the human race, and after much debate, adopted by the United Nations. \n\nEvery generation, a great war would be called to cull the population. Each nation would call for volunteers to form an army. The nations would then form factions and alliances along idealogical lines, and prepare their forces. They would be landed on the shores of Antartica, and then, at a pre-determined time, march for the South Pole. The war lasted until the worlds population had been reduced by 10%, with whichever faction controlled the pole at the time being granted control of the United Nations Security Council until the next war.", "\"Honey, can you pass me the War section?\" Walter asked without looking up from the financial pages that he was currently ensconced in. \n\nWar section? Oh, I'll pass you the War section alright Missy thought as she handed him the paper. \"Are we winning?\"\n\n\"Hmmm\" Walt sighed as he turned to the scores \"Seems like the Aussies took 200 from us last night in a bombing run over Lisbon. Say, wasn't the Hoffman's boy over in Lisbon?\"\n\n\"No, you're thinking of Danny Thompson. He was a gunners mate or something on a boat\" Missy corrected him.\n\n\"Dear, now.. a boat is something you take in a tub. Danny was on a ship. Anyway, seems like Danny might be in a little hot water. Looks like his ship was the main strike\" Walter commented.\n\n\"Oh dear\" Missy said \"I'll have to bake Jane a cake.\"\n\n\"Well, anyway, that moves us down to fourth and with only three months remaining we need to really kick it in.\" Walter finished his coffee, folded the paper and got up to leave for work.\n\n\"Say Missy\" Walter put on his sweet voice, the same voice that he used when he impregnated her back in college \"I was thinking of having a few of the boys over to watch the fun. Jimmers has an inside tip that we're fire bombing Mumbai tonight and he heard ESPN is covering it live.\"\n\nfuck you she thought, but she was raised better than that. \"Of course dear. I'll make some sandwiches.\"\n\nWalter kissed her cheek and swatted her ass. \"Sandwiches? That sounds nice. Yes, make me some sandwiches and be a Hon and put some beer in the fridge when you get a minute.\" Walter put on his jacket, grabbed the Buick keys and headed out the door.\n\nMissy stared at that door for a good 20 minutes. Then she quietly went to the basement, took a six pack of beer and placed it in the fridge.", "In the conference room the heads of state tossed the hot potato. From the Lithuainian Minister to the Russian President to the Saudi Prince, the potato ping-ponged back and forth over the round table between the leaders of the free world. The music that played was an old world pop song -\n\nWe are the world, we are the children \nWe are the ones who make a brighter day\n\nand it lent a rhythm and a swaying to the tossing. The Canadian and American Presidents actually locked arms and sang along.\n\nIt's true we'll make a better day \nJust you and me\n\nWhich is why the potato hit America in the face and fell to the floor. This incurred an automatic \"hold-the-hot-potato-for-five-seconds-before-passing\" penalty, and before the penalty time elapsed the music stopped.\n\n\"Awww, man. My constituency is gonna be pissed,\" America mumbled.\n\nThe World Arbiter took the floor and recited,\n\n\"In accordance with the War Sucks But pact of twenty-thirty, America shall be bombarded by the combined forces of the world for three hundred and sixty-six days, or until it is entirely reduced to rubble. All nations will enter war mode and contribute the full force of their economy to the operation. America will take no action to defend itself, military or otherwise, and in compensation shall be rebuilt by we who destroyed it.\"\n\nIt was all very procedural, and the heads of state expected that to be the end of it, but America raised a hand.\n\n\"America withdraws from the War Sucks But pact.\"\n\n\"What?!\"\n\n\"Outrageous! No nation has ever withdrawn! What are you playing at?\"\n\n\"Order! Order here!\"\n\nAmerica shrugged. \"Contingency Protocol five-eleven. It's in our secret constitution. It says if we ever get picked, I'm supposed to tell you all to fuck off.\"\n\n\"The pact only works if we all accept its consequences.\"\n\n\"Well I guess it doesn't work anymore.\" \n\n\"My country, and seven others, have already been wiped from the earth and wiped back on. I was seven when the bombs fell on Denmark. We were proud to stimulate the world economy. We ate the bullets like men.\"\n\n\"You've had this protocol the whole time? What did you think would happen?\"\n\n\"Well, we didn't really figure we'd ever get picked. There's, like, a lot of countries, you know?\"\n\n\"This does not exempt you from the assault! The united forces of the globe will destroy you!\"\n\n\"Not likely.\"\n\n\"You can't seriously believe that America can defend itself against the military output of the whole world.\"\n\n\"We have super-nukes.\"\n\n\"Super-nukes?\"\n\n\"The War Sucks But pact specifically bans the use of nuclear weapons.\"\n\n\"We withdraw from the pact.\"\n\n\"Mother Russia has also devoloped the super-nuke.\"\n\n\"So too has China.\"\n\n\"Shit, mon, Jamaica has super-nukes.\"\n\nIt was soon established the every country had secretly devolped their own version of the super-nuke. Just in case. The heads of state eyed each other suspiciously.\n\n\"Germany withdraws from the War Sucks But pact.\"\n\n\"Latvia withdraws.\"\n\n\"And South Africa.\"\n\nEveryone withdrew. America clapped and said \"Awesome!\" and pulled out a manila folder. \"I'd like to propose a new pact . . .\" \n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "September 21st, 2214\n\n*Somewhere under London\n\nA sharp click echoed with each step as the Military Advisor for the United Kingdoms of Britain and Germany hurried towards the war room, her immaculate hands clutching the semicentennial report of alliances. The Fifth war was approaching, and the final stage of planning was already well underway.\n\nEverybody knew, that on the eve of the 1st of October, every 50 years, the declaration of war would be sent out, and the great powers of the world would clash in a furious battle, until only one alliance stood victorious.\n\n\"EVELYN.\" A thunderous voice echoed from within the sealed room, and the documents almost slipped from her hands as she began to run.\n\n\"My apologies, sir, here's the list.\" Her lungs ached from the short burst of exertion, and it showed in her speech.\n\n\"Excellent, m'dear. Go get a cup of tea for myself and Schreiber here, will you? We have preparations to finalise, and we have very little time to do it.\"\n\nShe nodded curtly, and turned away from the table in front of her, her heels once again clicking down the hallway. The larger of the two men, General Schreiber, head of the combined Anglo-Germanic Defense Force, turned to face his smaller comrade.\n\n\"We do not have time for such foolishness, sire, our allies are growing impatient to hear of our plan.\" A slight adjustment of his epaulettes was the only indication of his own frustration at the small, pale man before him.\n\n\"All in good time, General!\" The chipper voice rang out. Drawing himself up to his full, albeit unimpressive height, King Oliver the First stood and clapped his friend on the back. \"The Asian Empire is well known for its patience, and my dear friend Vladmir has informed me that the Republic of New Russia has sworn absolute loyalty to our cause.\"\n\nStill unconvinced, the muscular General frowned. \"But sire, we should give them more time to prepare, should we not?\"\n\n\"Ah, but of course, however if we send the plans too early, they may be countered by those blasted Western spies, no?\"\n\nSchreiber knew well of the king's grudge against the Western States of America, which formed after the Third war due to a differing public opinion of a broken alliance. The Eastern States got away with but a fraction of what used to be the United States, leaving them small and helpless compared to their much more powerful, not to mention ruthlessly cruel counterpart.\n\n\"I don't trust them, Schreiber. You know what happened in the Fourth. The bastards had agents in almost every alliance there was, and it damn near won them the war, due to their lack of vigilance.\" One of the king's favourite books from the pre-war era sprung to mind, specifically an overtly paranoid man with an enhanced eye. Oliver chuckled as he contemplated the possibilities, before being interrupted by Ms. Evelyn Porter, returning with the tea.\n\n\"Ah, wonderful, thank you dear. Come, come, sit, we could use your advice.\" The king threw one of his purple coated arms towards an empty chair, smiling politely as only he could.\n\n\"Yessir, right away.\" Her auburn hair flowed out behind her as she placed herself into the seat, sitting upright and rigid as she had learned in her military training.\n\n\"Now then, sire, Ms. Porter, shall we get to work before more... Distractions, arise?\" Schreiber threw a look at the king, which thankfully went unnoticed. \"We need to confirm that the French-Western alliance has been officially broken, or there could be dire consequences.\"\n\nEvelyn nodded, laying out the report she delivered earlier. \"As it stands, it has been broken, however there are still ties that we should be extremely careful of. We should also be aware that the Spaniards have brought together a powerful coalition of themselves, the whole of South America, and Italy against the Western States, so it would be in our best interests to at least give them a notice that we do not currently wish to get involved with their affairs. Ideally, they can deal with our enemies in the West while we focus our efforts in the mainland.\"\n\n\"Quite, quite, my dear, excellent work. Any word on the Portuguese?\"\n\n\"No sire, only that they have continued their work on unmanned assault vehicles.\"\n\n\"Hrm, I'd like to get my hands on them... As much as I want to win back the economy from the African Federation, I'd rather not kill off our entire population.\"\n\n\"Quite right sire, however the A.F. look to be less of a threat than we initially thought, they appear to be misusing the economic power they won 40 years ago, their country is almost on the brink of collapse.\"\n\n\"Again, excellent work m'dear, remind me again why I haven't promoted you?\"\n\nA faint blush appeared on Evelyn's cheeks, but she kept her composure as she responded. \"You can't promote me sire, I'm already in the highest civilian position possible.\"\n\n\"Of course, of course. What do you say, General?\" The king turned to the silent figure at the other side of the table, who was intently staring at the map, stroking his military-precise moustache, a worried look on his face.\n\n\"Tell me, Ms. Porter, is this correct? That the Eastern States are considering pledging their allegiance to the Norwegians?\"\n\n\"Correct, sir. Although we have not yet had a confirmation on that.\"\n\n\"Send someone to monitor it immediately.\"\n\n\"Yessir.\" A few taps on her wrist-mounted keyboard took care of the task, before she stood and reached over to the map sprawled across the table. \"Do we know what direction the Norwegian forces are moving, Sir?\"\n\n\"Ah, yes.\" Schreiber pulled off his glasses and indicated the Norwegian border, where it met with the German one. \"They appear to be congregating in Former Denmark, so I suspect they will be preparing to assault us from the North.\"\n\n\"Hmm. Do we have troops there?\" Evelyn's usually calm face furrowed slightly, as she knew if the military had to spread out further there would not be a chance for them to defend all the core locations.\n\n\"Thankfully, yes.\" Oliver butted in at this point, his hand wrapped around a cigar more than twice the size of his scrawny fingers. \"I visited them momentarily on my way back from the Asian Empire, lovely fellows.\"\n\n\"Excellent.\" Both Schreiber and Porter breathed a sigh of relief, sitting back into their chairs.\n\n\"Now, my friends.\" A puff of smoke billowed from the tight lips of the king. \"If we have ourselves a plan...\" A grin emerged from the smoke, almost ethereal. \"I think we're ready for war.\"\n\nDecember 23rd, 2215* (458 days later)\n\n*Location Unknown\n\nDeath. All I see is death. Nobody told me it would be like this. I signed up for this war to save my country, but this... This is just too much. I watched my friends get vaporised. What have we been doing all this time? Have we been fighting for nothing? Oh, mama, please tell me it's gonna be okay. Please, I'll hang up my colors, jus' lemme go home...\n\n\"Hey, Johnny, look.\"\n\nOh god, no... I've been found... Mama, please, save me..!\n\n\"Y'alright Rob?\"\n\n\"Yeah, look at this. Found meself a Westerner.\"\n\n\"Well, wouldya look at that. Christ, yer mum'll be well pleased\"\n\n\"Won't she?\"\n\nPlease don't let it end like this, I didn't wanna fight... Mama, help...\n\n\"Aw, look, he's got his hands up and everything. What'sa matter, li'l feller, don't wanna fight no more? Trying to close your eyes to get away?\"\n\n\"Hey, give'im a kick.\" thud\n\n\"Well guess what, kiddo. You messed with the wrong guys. Those Spaniards may be winning this war, but I'd sooner see the whole world eating crummy paella than you Ex-Americans coming out on top.\"\n\nOh, God... They're the Brits... Why did I get involved... Why...\n\n\"Tell you what, you get up, and we'll let you go. We know you're the last one in your bunch, so you hop on up, and we'll send you on your way\"\n\nWait... They're letting me go..? Mama, I'm saved..! Oh, mama, I'm gonna be okay!\n\n\"C'mon now, chap, up we go. That'sa boy, good lad. Now go on, run on home.\"\n\nI made it mama, I made it! I'm gonna be home for Christma-\n\nBANG\n\n-... I'm sorry, mama... I lied... Your boy ain't comin' home...**\n\nFIN\n\n(Note: This is my first /r/WritingPrompts, so be gentle, pls?)" ]	7
NSFW just in case...	[WP] Write about the beginnings of an affair between two people that do not speak the same language.	[ "A bit of a weirder take on the prompt. Not for the weak of heart- or stomach\n\nThis was not how first contact encounters were supposed to go. \nMichael Alstrom lay exhausted on the floor of the encounter room. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but it had felt a whole hell of a lot like sex. He was sure that he’d been inside the alien. He was also sure it had been inside him. \n\n“Well, fuck me,” he said. He felt like smoking a cigarette, or doing something, but there was no official policy regarding sexual contact with a new species, which four hours ago had seemed perfectly reasonable but now felt like an egregious oversight. \n“Fuck me,” he repeated. Once he passed back into hyper-relay range and the recordings from this… session got picked up and sent back to the Review Board, he didn’t know what they’d do. They’d suspend him at least. Or commit him. \n\nThe alien seemed pretty tired too. At least, Michael thought it looked tired. Despite the relative level of intimacy they had just shared, he didn’t have a clear conception of its anatomy. Jesus Christ, it was a bizarre-looking thing. It looked more like a blob of jell-o than a living creature, but it had a permeable membrane and versatile pseudopods and- Jesus Fucking Christ what had he just done? Sure, he considered himself an open-minded person. Hell, half the subscriptions on his hyper-relay feed would have made his Mormon grandparents bleed from their eyes. But this? This was something entirely different. \n\nThe alien stirred. It walked (oozed?) towards him, pulsating softly. Michael couldn’t see any discernable sensory organs, but it seemed to know exactly where he was. It started to make noises, as sort of wet, slapping sound- it seemed like speech. This was where the contact protocols came back into effect: Michael was supposed to keep it talking as long as he could, so the linguists that would pour over this video would have more to work with. \n\n“Ummm… hi?”\n\nThe alien burbled.\n\n“Look, what happened here- between you and me- was a mistake. It \ncan’t happen again. I-”\n\nThe alien advanced, and Michael noticed that it left a visible sheen on the floor behind it. It pulsated rapidly. \n\n“I’m just not ready for this kind of commitment, you know? I’ve never really been in a long-term relationship before and…” he trailed off. The pulsations were getting faster and faster, and he felt his entire circulatory system jump out of rhythm and sync itself to the creature’s pulsations. His legs buckled, and as he slid to the floor he felt a pink haze descend over his thoughts. He felt heat on his skin as the alien’s membrane slid over it, swallowing his legs and torso while he sleepily muttered “Just… one… more… time… I… suppose…”\n\nThe alien began to pulse faster.", "Whoa give me some tips on my writing yes please! I have horrible french!\n\n\nA city never really lights up in the dark. People go to bed, the dogs fall asleep, the chicken go home to roost, or so they say. But in the rain, oh my the rain, a city truly glimmers in the hazy clouds of our earths own perspirations, cooling down all of the above. It truly can be beautiful. I took my first real breath outside in the rain, on the streets of Paris nonetheless, where the rain manages to accumulate on the ground but you still somehow keep your shoes dry in the way Paris can only do for you. \n\nThat was the first time I saw her, and it may be cliché but she really did shine like a beacon or a lighthouse, not really a romantic thought, but I felt almost as if I gravitated to her. \n\nShe had brown hair, it fell in a bob right above her shoulders, the tips were frayed from where she would twirl the hair, a nervous habit I picked up on later. Her coat was tan and fell down to her knees, clearly drenched from the rain but still pristinely positioned, perfectly wrinkled in all the right places. She wore little make up, or it seemed that way, besides her lipstick. She wore it every day, almost religiously, the same color a deep shimmering red. It did nothing for a lips, you can’t improve upon perfection and these lips stole my heart away from that very moment. I saw this red from across the boulevard, I almost choked on my coffee, in disbelief that woman like her actually existed. \n\nI was compelled by her stride to stand, I had no blood in my legs so I couldn’t move but god damn stand I did. I stared at her and she just continued on with her business, buying vegetables or groceries, hell she could be taking a shit right on the street and I would have still been paralyzed. \n\nMy feet began moving and I started cursing almost immediately.\n\n“What the fuck are you doing feet?” I said out loud, my head hung.\n\nThey sped up, challenged by my words and I resigned. I looked up, afraid of my own two feet, and saw her much closer than I would have wished her to be and my heart stopped, the blood travelling much lower I’m sure. I swallowed whatever spit I had left, realizing how parched my throat was, wondering would I die from this dry of a throat? What would happen if I never produced saliva again? Am I okay or is this the end of the line ---\n\nI bumped into her.\n\nShe dropped her flowers and I bumped into her. \n\nShe looked flustered, her hair tangled into her earring, I was in love. \n\n“hello” I mustered up from the depths of my soul reaching out my hand to greet her. “The perfect pick up line” I thought.\n\nShe looked up at me from the ground as she picked up the flowers, beautiful reds and golds all wild flowers, I must have looked like an idiot. I stood there with my arm outstretched as she continued to pick up the flowers and she just stared at me. \n\n“Allez-vous moi ou quoi aider ?” she spit out hastily at me. \n\nFuck. \n\nI don’t speak French. Fuck.\n\nThere was a hitch in my plan and my zeppelin was quickly catching on fire and I panicked. \n\n“Oui!” I stammered out and continued to stand still. \n\nShe laughed at me and I almost cried. Her laugh was piercing and hearty, it was light and prolonged, I found it so comfortable that I could curl up into and just die and I almost cried.\n\n“vous ne parlez pas français , vous le faites ?” she replied, this time under a sly smile, the tips of her lips almost touched her ears and the bright red lipstick left their brazen marks right on my pupils, forever reflecting the sight of their perfection forever more. \n\nShe stood up, the flowers all bunched up in her hands again, and she looked at me, sizing me up, and then let out another smile.\n\nShe grabbed my hand and began walking.\n\nAnd we walked, this time my feet fighting for me.\n\n", "Her husband is probably sitting in the food court, waiting faithfully for someone who is anything but faithful. But the blonde woman's lips against her bare neck, travelling up and down while murmuring unintelligible, makes it all worth it. It doesn't matter that they are standing in a cramped toilet stall in some godforsaken European airport.\n\n“Fan, vad het du är” the blonde whispers, placing her long arms around the other's neck and flashing an expectant smile. The woman's eyes flutter open.\n\n“Ah-I don't speak... emh, German?” Her companion giggles and pushes her lips against the woman's, kissing her long and hard. Their lips flush, warmth blossoming over the woman's face as a slender hand undoes her neat braid. She gasp softly, earning her another giggle and a soft bite to her bottom lip.\n\n“Du gör mig så jävla kåt.” Blonde and tall lets go of her neck with one hand and reaches down to undo the button of her jeans, that one wandering hand settling just above the waistband of her panties.\nThe fluorescent lights above flicker, her flight departs in less than an hour and her husband is going to be worried sick but she can't bring herself to give a damn. Not when a melodically sounding blonde is giving her the time of her life in bathroom. It's a once in a lifetime moment, one of those you just can't miss, even if you don't understand a word of it.", "Her hands were soft on his face. He would forget that last, when the forgetting time came.\n\nHer hands were soft on his face and he could see her lips moving, almost rustling. She pulled back and laughed. Her lips moved again. \n\nHe caught himself, hand suspended in the air between them, stuck in the amber of her loveliness. The tips of his fingers longed to brush against the corners of her mouth, her lips. They dropped instead, fished around the pockets of his felt pants that smelt of detergent and the lemon hard candies his two young grand boys liked.\n\n\"Excuse me\" he said. Her lips moved again.\n\nLip reading had never caught with him. Too old for it, he thought. There was the leaky gas main, the blast and the black and waking up with only the faintest ring--like a bell that had been struck but lost itself somewhere on the way to silence. Nothing else though. No more bird song, no more man song either. \n\nWith a sigh, he realized she was still standing there, sun lighting up the snowy banks of her hair. Her mouth moved again.\n\n\"I'm sorry\" he said, moving his mouth and pushing out the air all from memory, \"I can't hear.\" His face reddened as her face was lit again by laughter and he knew that the sound of laughter was held in the face and the brightness of the eyes even and could still be felt though hearing had long departed.\n\nShe put a searching hand on his arm, his shoulder. She smiled and pointed to her eyes, clouded with a blue gray milk. He had not noticed before, had not had the courage to look.\n\nA young black orderly, mopping his way down the hall, paused and looked back at him. He signed, the pale skin of his palm blinking in quick flashes: \n\n'She says she thought you were the door.'\n\n'For her, I'd try' he signed back.\n\n'You okay? Your wife is getting out of aerobics.' \n\n'Keep it moving.' The young man laughed and kept along. \n\nThe woman cocked her head in his direction and smiled to herself, seeing clear, milk be damned.\n\n\n ", "Palpable heat sparked between their bodies, tiny invisible fireworks exploding along the hills and valleys of their skin. The room was cloaked in a rainy filter, with an ethereal, almost oceanic feeling pervading.\n\nShe, chattering in rapid French, tried to catch her breath. \"Ça, c'est merveilleux...\"\n\nHe, an ostentatious American businessman, heard nothing but gibberish. His elementary French classes from high school were long ago and totally forgotten, but he thought he was doing something right.\n\nHands slammed together as the passion escalated. A glass on the nightstand toppled to the ground and shattered. The window began to steam.\n\nAnd suddenly, miraculously, language was not needed. Words, once so integral, lost meaning entirely. All they had were actions and reactions. Lightning struck outside, singeing the air. Their eyes met for a moment, and all was lost. Everything fell away. They were two people free-falling through space and time without parachutes, but there was no ground to stop their descent. In fact, there was no end at all.\n\nThe police found the bodies the next day, still entwined in romantic embrace. The window had shattered, and the pattern of the burns indicated that a rogue bolt of lightning had been their end." ]	5
	[WP] Becoming the president is akin to being the Avatar where the president gains access to the wisdom of all past presidential figures.	[ "October 1962. \n\n“I need to be alone gentlemen. You’re dismissed.” The generals and military commanders left the president in his oval office. One man lingered at the door. “That includes you Bobby.” Robert Kennedy approached his brothers desk. “Jack, what’s wrong? We’re on the cusp of a nuclear war and you’re dismissing your generals? C’mon, I can always tell when something’s wrong, what is it? Is it your back? I can get the doctor in, if you want.” said the Attorney General. “It’s nothing, Bobby and you certainly wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Now please.” John F. Kennedy pointed towards the door and his brother finally relented. \n\nJohn Kennedy sat back in his rocking chair and massaged his temples and before he knew it he was transported to a dark room where all the past presidents sat around a table. “What do you need this time, kid?” asked James Buchannan. “A miracle.” replied JFK. “We don’t deal in those.” replied President Lincoln. \n\n“Tell us what’s happening.” continued Lincoln. “We’re on the brink of all-out war with the Soviets. The result will be devastating. It could be the end of billions of lives.” said Kennedy. “Well that’s not going to be an acceptable result now is it, John?” injected President Washington. “You must back down.” stated President Polk. \n\n“That’s not an option, certainly not after the fiasco in Cuba with the Bay of Pigs. Thanks for the advice on that one by the way.” said Kennedy. “Well that’s what happens when you listen to Jackson, he’s crazy.” said John Quincy Adams. “You want a duel, Adams?” replied Jackson. “Are you still bitter because you lost in 1824? You still became Preside-.” \n“Stop! This doesn’t help me at all.” pleaded Kennedy.\n\n“Fine this is what you need to do. Polk is right you must secede some form of power. In doing this Khrushchev will be willing to do the same, Khrushchev doesn’t want nuclear war, he is a man after all. What can you promise him?” \n\n“We have missiles in Turkey. I could tell him we’ll remove them, if he turns his ships around and removes his nuclear weapons from Cuba. But removing them will stay make me look weak.” said Kennedy.\n“No it won’t, not if you promise to remove them at a later date and never mention it to the American people.” stated Franklin Roosevelt. \n\nKennedy mulled it over for a few seconds. “Okay that could work.” \nJohn Kennedy was back in the oval office. “Bobby!” he shouted. His brother came racing in. “I need you to go to Ambassador Dobrynin and informally propose to him that we’ll remove our missiles from Turkey.” \n\n“Okay, but what were you doing that led you to come to this conclusion.” asked the Attorney General. “I’m sure you’ll find out, one day.” replied his brother. \n", "President Obama was once again making an all-nighter in the oval Office. He was trying to craft new policy regarding IS, but he was stuck. His choices seemed to be to either stay in the frying pan or jump into the Fire. \n\n\"I think I need the wisdom of past Presidents. President Bush...actually ... no. President Clinton, lend me your wisdom.\"\n\nThe former President appeared before him.\n\n\"I'm still alive you know, you could just invite me over.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know, but I Need your wisdom right now. What should I do about IS?\"\n\n\"Definately bomb them. Or whatever my wife says. Say, do you have any sexy interns around here?\n\n\"Nevermind.\" The figure dissapeared before him. \"Maybe I have to reach across the isle on this one. President Bush, SENIOR! SENIOR! Please lend me your wisdom.\n\nIt worked, as the elder ex-president Bush appeared before him.\n\n\"I'm still alive you know, you could just invite me over.\"\n\n\"Really? Are you sure? I could have... Nevermind, President Bush, I need you wisdom. What should I do regarding IS?\n\n\"You should do everything it takes to Keep Irak together. Clearly lines in the Sand drawn by Colonial Masters a century ago must be defended with every ounce of American Blood!\"\n\n\"That... doesn't Sound very popular. But thanks, I guess.\"\n\nBush dissapeared. Clearly he had to go back further. To one of his favourites.\n\n\"President Reagan, please lend me your wisdom.\"\n\nReagan appeared in the stead of his former running mate.\n\n\"You really are dead, or?\"\n\n\"Yeah. So what you need to do is actually really simple, berry. What is the most popular movie Franchise right now?\"\n\n\"Erm... Tranformers I guess?\"\n\n\"Great! Just waste a few Billion on a Military Project to build those Transformer thingies, and your enemies will be so scared they will collapse!\"\n\n\"I'm pretty sure that's not how any of that works. Looks like I will have to go back even farther.\"\n\nReagan dissapeared like the others. \n\n\"Please lend me your wisdom.\"\n\nThe figure that appeared before him was Truman.\n\n\"Finally someone asks me for advice! What do you Need?\"\n\n\"Erm, actually I wanten President Roosevelt. But since you are here already, what should I do about IS?\"\n\n\"Have you considered...\"\n\n\"I won't nuke them.\"\n\n\"In that case I have nothing.\"\n\nHe waved goodby and dissapeared. Obama tried again.\n\n\"President Roosevelt, I Need you wisdom.\"\n\nThe President Roosevelt that appeared was not Franklin D. however, but Theodore. Obama didn't even care at this Point though.\n\n\"Now Barrack, as I famously said you should speak softly and carry a big stick.\"\n\n\"So I should open negotiations with those terrorists?\"\n\n\"Yeah, and while you talk softly with them, they are completely defenceless, so you can beat them to a bloody Pulp with the stick! Isn't war just Grand?\"\n\n\"Erm, sure Teddy, I... will think about that.\" \n\nObama was once again left alone in his room.\n\n\"It's no use. I have to go further back. Way back. All the way back. Lend me your wisdom... President Washington.\"\n\nWhen Obama opened his eyes, the contrast to his other visitors was sharp: Instead of a suit, he wore a Military Uniform from pre-napoleonic times.\n\n\"Yes? Who called me? You there, where is your master?\"\n\n\"I... erm am President Barrack Obama, and I wanted to ask you how to deal with IS.\"\n\n\"Oh, right. You see Boy...\"\n\n\"Please don't call me Boy, Sir.\"\n\n\"You see, America can only remain the Land of the free as long as it stays the home of the brave. Those People call them terrorists, and it is because the only way they can subvert our rights, our way of life by instilling fear into us.\n\n We must not let our fear rule us! What are a few deaths against the freedom of a Nation? We must defend our freedoms outlined in the constitution against every foe, from within or without, including from our own fear. For as Benjamin Franklin said, \"Those that seek to trade freedom for security will find themselves with neither.\"\"\n\n\"That's it! Thank you George! I swore to defend the constitution, but I have let it erode out of fear for American lives! I must immediatly reign in the NSA, and so help me god I will never again just start a war without approval of congress!\"\n\n\"Also when you do fight IS, you should go to Irak too.\"\n\n\"Say what?\"\n\n\"It's clearly right in the constitution. You are the commander in chief! So command!\"\n\n\"But... that doesn't mean from the Ground right? I mean that would be way to dangerous!\"\n\n\"Of course from the Ground! That's what I did? Do you have any Idea how many People shot at me? Also regarding this whole slavery Business, I understand why you might be a bit biased, but you should really look at it from the Point of view that...\"\n\nBefore the founding father could complete his sentence he vanished into the same thin Air he came from.\n\n\"For fucks sake.\"\n", "\"... Of which I am about to enter.\" Barack Hussein Obama let out a tiny gasp as the world suddenly collapsed into a single point. Gone was the stage which he had stood on, his feet seemed to be simultaneously firmly on the ground yet floating in mid air. His wife and children were no where to be seen. He looked up from his feet and saw nothing but white, he wasn't in a room, there were no floors or walls. He looked where the crowd had been seated, hundreds, thousands of people were no longer there. \n\nA small sigh of relief escaped as he turned around and saw two familiar faces. \"Bill...... George....... I am so glad I am not alone.......... How did this happen?....... We need....... To get help.\" \n\n\"Barack, or should I say Mr. president? We don't need help. We are on our way to where we need to be.\" Bill Clinton put a hand on the shoulder of the current president of the United States of America. \n\n\"On our way? Can't you see that there is nothing.... Around us? \" Barack gestured to the emptiness. \n\n\" Why does he talk so weird, he's even weirder than the last one.\"\n\n\"Fuck you ted. And Barack, seriously do you have to...... Pause...... so much? \" George W. Bush scowled towards the bespectacled man standing behind the President. Barack's eyes widened as he turned towards the bespectacled man, and the 39 men other men alongside him. \n\n\"Watch your mouth! You curse in front of this audience? And me your father? I raised you better than that!\" Snickers arose from the crowd as the 41st president chastised his son. \n\nBarack let out a deep breath of relief. \" I'm dreaming, of course. Everything is OK, I'm just dreaming.\" \n\nClinton put his hand on the shoulder of the 44th President, \"No Barry, you're not dreaming.\" \n\n\"ENOUGH\" The crowd fell quiet after the first syllable and parted to let the source of the booming voice through. \"I will not allow such childlike and disrespectful behavior to take place. You will address this man as Mr. President. He has taken the oath, he stands among us, he holds the office.\" \n\nThe President abandoned any hope that this was a dream. The man standing before him could not be a figment of his imagination. Somehow he was in the presence of George Washington. There was no denying the confidence and leadership that ebbed from this man. \n\n\"Mr. President, allow me to apologize for my successors. They tend to forget the gravity and prestige of this moment. Tradition and custom require that I begin and lead the ceremony. But in light of your... Circumstances, I must cede this honor to another. President Obama, there is someone that is quite eager to meet you.\" \n\nThe President followed the gaze of His Excellency, towards a bearded gentleman in a top hat. \"Abe, this is your moment sir\"\n\n\"Thank you George.\" President Barack Obama, the 44th President of the United States of America, looked into the watery eyes of Abraham Lincoln, the 16th President, the man who had outlawed slavery. He had paid the highest price for his actions, actions that allowed Barack Obama, a black man to rise to the highest office of a country that had once thrived on the slavery of his race. \n\n\"Barack\" Abraham Lincoln returned the President's Gaze \"Excuse me, Mr. President. When W informed me his successor would be a black man, I thought it was another one of his silly jokes. I did not expect our country to be able to put aside its prejudices so quickly.I thought it would take more time. I certainly did not expect them to do so during a time of war with a collapsing economy.\" The 16th president paused. \"The night I was shot, President Washington was the first to comfort me. You see, as I will explain soon, those of us that are dead, we still yearn for our loved once. I missed my family. I was angry for being robbed of a future with them. Washington said to me on that day that I had paid a small price for doing what my country needed. That my actions strengthened the future of our country. That freeing the slaves would allow the United States to grow. I often doubted him. Yet as the Bush's and Bill have told us, our country needs saving. They found their savior in a black man. That..\" Abraham Lincoln held back tears as his voice cracked \"makes it all worth it\". \n\n43 of the most powerful men in history grew quiet. 43 inspirational figures in history, men who had given legendary speeches that had moved nations and led wars, were speechless. The newest member of the group uttered the only two words that he could, \"Thank you\". \n\nAbraham Lincoln smiled and spoke, \"Now, it is time to begin.\" His voice boomed as he found his strength. \"Barack Hussein Obama, you have taken the Oath. You are now the President of the greatest nation in the history of the world. A responsibility so massive, that it requires the knowledge of every man that has held this office before you. I, the 16th president of the United States of America, am honored to place at your disposal, the knowledge, wisdom, and talents of your predecessors. President Barack Hussein Obama, please complete your oath and allow our strength to guide you through your presidency.\"\n\nPresident Barack Hussein Obama now understood. The final words were not in the constitution, he turned the first man that had uttered those words and created the tradition.\n\n\"So Help Me God\"\n\nEdit: I completed this in two sittings, had to get off mobile. Sorry for any inconvenience that I caused. " ]	3
Anything your heart desires, just somehow make it based off of, or incorporate, the quote :)	[WP] "In the end, two remained."	[ "It has been nearly an hour now, the initial violence had not ended. The battle was long and fierce, and weakening his enemy to its current state was due to the lives of his friends he sacrificed to get there. Now he was alone with it. He steeled his resolve, pulling out a potion to replenish his wounds and readied his magical blade. Looking upon his opponent. Steve steeled his resolve to defeat the ender dragon. His comrades fell one after another to slay the beast in its own dimension, and in the end, two remained.", "The two ships floated in space, the remnants of a much larger battle that had been fought. All around them debris settled in a field surrounding the ships. Without any momentum, the debris would fail to ever move beyond the small sector.\n\nOne ship was a small fighter, the last of its federation. The ship's engines were damaged beyond repair, though the power core held on strong, and was able to power the life support systems. The pilot fidgeted in his command seat and sighed. It was going to be a slow death if he didn't do something about it. Without arms on board, he wouldn't be able to finish himself. The only solution was to pop the hatch and end it all.\n\nThe other ship as a supply hauler that had once held a crew of twenty people. It now dwindled at two, one of whom would likely pass on soon. A young navigator sat over the galley master, his wound grievous. The hull of the supplier had been breached in several areas, and the galley master has survived one of the initial ruptures. The shrapnel from the hull, however, pierced his body in numerous places. The galley master wanted to die as the pain was excruciating but didn't have the ability to speak or move any longer. The poor young man sitting over him was scared and alone. The galley master didn't know which fate was worse; To die slowly and in pain, or to die slowly and alone in the depths of space with no chance of rescue.\n\nThe galley master pushed himself to squeeze the young man's hand in the hopes that he was sending some sort of signal. The young man sighed. \"I'm sorry, sir. I can't watch you like this anymore. There's no telling how long you'll bleed like this, and it feels wrong to let you lay here in pain.' He rose and walked into the kitchen, returning with a large knife. \"Forgive me.\" he said with tears in his eyes. \"For I will need to forgive myself and ask the same forgiveness of whatever hereafter I find when I pass on as well.\"\n\nThe navigator placed his forehead to the galley master's head, tears streaming down his face, and slit the man's throat. He told himself that he had to watch the blood pour out. It was his duty as executioner to watch this man die and make sure he knew that he would not die alone. Within a few moments, the man's breathing stopped, and the young man was alone himself. He left the body of the galley captain and went back up to the bridge. After several hours of mulling what he had done and his own fate, he felt he had nothing to lose. The ship still had power, but without an engineer, it was likely he would not be able to repair the engines. He turned on the distress beacon and also turned on every transmitter he could on the ship. He wanted to make sure that if there was anyone out there in that debris field, and hopefully anyone beyond the sector, would know he was here. He didn't care if they came to kill him, it was better than dying alone or hungry or of the cold.\n\n\"This is Kanus supply ship Lelentus. As far as I know, I am all that remains of the attack group that was launched against the incursion in this sector. If there's anyone out there, I could really use a lift. If not, I hope one day someone hears my message.\" He paused as he looked out the front view port.\n\n\"This battle was a waste of life. If I am the only survivor of a battle between two attack groups of opposing factions, then let it be known that this conflict helped no one. It destroyed ships, lives, everything that entered this sector. No one achieved victory. Leave this grave of parts as a marker to all those who may, in the future, decide to embark on the same foolish endeavors.\" He paused, swallowing more tears. \"I don't care what my government or my superiors were fighting over... all I want is my home and my family. May whatever gods you pray to grant everyone here mercy in the hereafter. If you pray to no one or nothing, then sleep well. Your rest is well deserved. This is Martin Gregson, Navigator 1st Class of the supply ship Lelantus signing off.\"\n\nHe slumped in the captain's chair and sniffed. Now he had to figure out what to do now.\n\n\"That was a hell of a eulogy, son.\" The navigator sat bolt up right and gripped the arm rests tightly.\n\n\"Please identify yourself.\"\n\n\"Navigator Gregson, I am Lieutenant Alton Reynolds, formily of the Prementus carrier ship Eidolon. I fly a fighter that's dead in the water, and I have no place to go but the cold dark around me. I know we are on opposite sides of the conflict, but as you said, no one won today. I wish to offer company and assistance in this time of dire straits.\"\n\nGregson didn't respond immediately. \"How can I trust you, Lieutenant?\"\n\nA barking laugh came over the comm. \"Seriously? I have no engines, no weapons, and the only thing keeping me here is my life support system. Neither of us have anywhere to go. If we're going to die out here, it would be nice to have some company.\"\n\nThe navigator wiped his nose with his sleeve and smiled. He was right, what was the worst that could happen? The officer kills him? The man would die alone in the cold dark, and that would, to him, be a fitting punishment for murder.\n\n\"Fair enough, Lieutenant. I have a short distance runner I can fly over to you and pick you up. It'll be a tight fit, but we should be okay. My engines are damaged, but most of my provisions are still in good shape.\"\n\nReynolds clapped his hands, \"I have some engineering experience maintaining my own ship, maybe we can make something of our combined resources.\"\n\n\"I would like that, Lieutenant.\"\n\n\"Navigator Gregson... Martin, if I may... we are no longer of the forces we came here with. Please, call me Alton.\"\n\n\"Sounds like a plan, Alton. I'll see you shortly.\"", "In the end, two remained. \nHe was the man that thought he could have it all; buy and sell anything and everything from televisions to art works to rivers and mountains. Where as she did not want to own or possess anything, only to be part of a world she shared the world with be they frogs to bees to lakes and deserts.\n\nHe thought she would want him in the end, as everyone else did; he had the money to have whatever and whoever he wanted, she would be his final conquest. She hoped he would realise that the money had not brought him everything, he was the one that was the slave and fool.\n\nWhen the clock struck four their eyes met: he realised how deeply hers drew him in and how much more there had been than his eyes saw; she saw how shallow and empty his were, like the broken promises he'd made and how little he'd actually experienced with his ears, nose and tongue. \n\nAnd then there was none. She saw no future to be had in the shallow and empty ghost world he had created, and he saw the past that he had never stopped to listen and learn from. Each praying as they went; he hoped that she would forgive him, and she hoped the world could resurrect anew.", "The landscape shows a barren desert. desolate, arid, and bleak are adjectives I would use in describing what lays before me. The color of gunmetal is beneath my feet, standing in the doorway between the inhospitable land and the barracks housing many numbers of my fellow race. Our time on this planet is coming to an end, we must move on.\n\nI turn back to the barracks as the last few sand drops of time fall from the hourglass. My feet drag as I move forward to the preparation room. We will be removing ourselves from this world, freeing ourselves from the human tyranny. In the preparation room, we entrap ourselves in suits and activate the entropy engines. This will be a quick trip.\n\nA flash of darkness.\n\nWe have survived.\n\nIt looks like that in the end, Two remained.\n\nThe imaginarys looked, as always, detached. They were always lost in thought, partially not there. They understood the impact of Two staying behind, but they were shaking thier heads in wonderment.\n\n\"Why would Two stay behind?\"\n\nThe other primes were shocked. The primes were the group who created this possibility of leaving that horrible existance and transfer us into this new land. Two himself was a major component in making this opportunity possible.\n\n\"Why did he stay behind?\"\n\nI know why Two stayed behind. Being so unique, he was popularized on the other side, treated like a god. Over there he was a god. Both myself and One discussed a long time ago if we would stay behind. We agreed to move on, to prevent the others from running rampant.\n\nLost in thought I don't notice the others running forward and exploring, leaving me behind.\n\nIn the dirt of this new land I write-\n\n\"In the end, two remained\"\n\nI look up and start heading in the direction of the other numbers.", "In the end, two remained. \n\nIt had been four straight hours of sweat, tears, and even fear-filled bowel movements. Some had gotten hurt, some had to be taken away... Some were so overcome with all kinds of human emotion, so much so that they threw up all over themselves. It was intense.\n\nOne by one they succumbed, and in the end, two remained.\n\nThey stared each other down. They screamed at each other from their positions. One would scream at the other in a language the other, naturally, could not understand. Behind each fort, each would gesture obscenely. \n\nUntil, finally, at the fifth hour... little Timmy succumbed to nap time, and Johnny was to be the victor. His drool was glorious, and it was the drool of victory." ]	5
	[WP] It's your first Championship fight in boxing, the stadium is packed, press are at the ready, the hype is HUGE. Write me a story from your walk to the ring, the fight and finish. Tell me about the adrenaline and thrill.	[ " This moment... this is the moment. Everything I've done has lead to this moment. Every bar bell lifted, every mile ran, every combo learned has been for this moment. Has it been enough? Did I train my body and mind enough? \n\n \"Hey its 5 minutes till show time, Rambo\" yelled Angelo Clay.\n \n\"I'm ready\" ... I think.\n \n Rambo, Angelo my trainer, starting calling me that when he found me trying to take on 4 boys. They called my mom a whore. She was. I couldn't the humiliation of that stand. I got beaten bloody. Angelo jumped in and got them off me. He told me to not act like Rambo and take on insurmountable odds by myself. \n \n He let me train at the local boxing gym he ran. It was an inner city outreach. A way to get kids off the street. He was practically a father figure now.\n \n \"I'll make you proud\", I whispered. \nI put on my blue and black robe with white letters that said, Shadow Wolf. \n \nI'd worked up quite a lather in my previous fight routine and beads of sweat were already dripping off me. \n \n \"Weakness leaving the body\", I told myself.\n \n I walked to the door that lead to the ring and began to focus. The door opened... and time slowed. I felt every sweat bead down my body. Felt the rush of 18 thousand people roaring.\nThe ringside announcer blared, \"Standing at 6ft tall, and weighing in at 19lbs, it's the James 'Shaddddooow Wolf' Young\". Half the stadium was booing. It didn't matter, I was the newcomer not the defending champion.\n \nThe world champion, a man who called himself 'Teme AL Toro', or fear the bull. He was short but a thick man, known for his fiery temper.\n \n I'll use that against him, I thought to myself.\n \n \"Are you ready for this, are you ready for glory\", Angelo asked.\n \n I thought again about how hard I had worked, the thousands of hours put in destroying my body and then building it back up. It was enough.\n \n\"Im always ready for glory\", I yelled as I climbed into the ring.\n\n\nEdit 1: I'm new to Reddit, so I'm not sure why the first part is a different font. But I wrote my story about the walk to the fight not the fight itself. Hope you like it. Critiques are welcome. ", "\"This is it, kid.\" My trainer sat, chomping a cigar while he wrapped up my hands. He never lit the thing, said it would ruin my lungs, but he chomped on cigars non-stop on fight nights. Had ever since we'd been in shitty little dives in podunk towns. \"How are you feeling?\"\n\nPavlo Zherdev was a beast. Standing close to seven feet tall and weighing over two hundred and fifty pounds, he had dominated professional boxing for the last five years. The most frightening things about him were his iron chin and his seemingly limitless stamina. It's where he got his nickname; 'The Steam Engine'. \n\nI had watched hours and hours of his fight tapes. For the last three months, I had been having dreams of fighting this guy, and they always involved me feeling like my feet were in cement, or my arms were moving through Jello, or my punches landed like pillows. I'd wake up sweaty and exhausted from beating on this guy in my dreams, always to no effect. \n\n\"I don't feel much of anything,\" I said. And it was mostly true. Dreams like that were common before a big fight, and thus far, things had always seemed to work out for me. I've got good defense and quick hands, and they'd always served me well so far. Something was scratching at the back of my mind though; a concern about the possible match between my weaknesses, polished down to minor flaws by now, and Zherdev's strengths.\n\nMy trainer slapped me on the shoulder. \"Attaboy. Keep your head clear, kid. Gotta take a piss.\" He got up and wandered off to the bathroom for the fifth or sixth time. I sat in the empty locker room, looking between my feet. I felt my breath moving in and out of my lungs. Felt my muscles flex and stretch as I shifted my weight.\n\nSomething was different. At first I couldn't identify it, and then I realized the sound of the crowd, usually a constant, dull roar in the locker rooms before a fight, was gone. I could have sworn I heard it few moments ago. Had I imagined it? Were the locker rooms that well insulated? I got up and walked to the locker room door, looking up and down the hall. It was silent. No one was walking in the hallway. I heard no sound anywhere in the building. \n\nI felt a cold chill moving up my spine then. I remembered rotten teeth, those horrible green eyes, and that cheap suit. The smell of rotten eggs. In my memory, I heard that voice, the voice I heard the night of my first match. 'Call me Lou,' he had said, followed by a wet hack and a used car salesman's attempt at a charming smile. I knew what I would see when I turned around.\n\nAnd when I did turn around, there he was. One blue suede shoe propped up on the bench in the locker room. His suit was made of some sort of velveteen or satiny material. He was dressed like a madman's speculation about a Vegas lounge singer might look like. His greasy hair was combed over to one side. He smiled at me with those brown, uneven teeth. \"Little Mr. Dynamite,\" he said with a laugh. \"Big things come in small packages.\" He winked, then brought his hands up and pulsed his fingers out, miming and explosion. \"Boom!\"\n\nHe gave a wheezing laugh. Apparently, he'd amused himself. \"You ready to take the deal, kid?\" He jerked his head at a briefcase, sitting on the opposite bench. \n\n\"I told you, jackass,\" I said. \"I told you the first time I ever fought, I don't believe in that bullshit.\" He smirked, inclined his head a little in acquiescence. \"Fair enough,\" he said. \"But then, if you don't believe it, it can't hurt to put ink to paper, can it?\"\n\nI shook my head. \"I made it this far without you, I don't need you now.\"\n\nHe laughed, and it was a pitying laugh. \"It's the end of the line, slim. Here's where we see the difference between the great and the almost great. How many people has old Pavlo put down? I think I've lost count.\" I knew the number. It was a big number. \"What makes you think you'll be any different?\"\n\nLou reclined on the bench, put his hands behind his head.\n\n\"Security!\", I shouted, and listened as my own words echoed off the walls.\n\n\"Not until our business is done and we've struck a deal or not,\" he said quietly. \n\nI waited. Listened to the drip, drip, drip of water falling from a shower head to a tile floor. Lou kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling.\n\n\"You're going to get a cut over your left eye in the second round that's going to be distracting and it's going to make it hard to protect your left side. You're going to hammer on him for four or five rounds, but you're going to find out it's like beating on a stump. He's just going to keep grinning at you and trading punches, and every one of his is going to take something out of you.\" He cleared his throat. \"You're tough, so even blind and getting hit on your left side every few minutes, you're going to make it to the tenth round. It's going to be a TKO, and after tonight, sports commentators are going to talk about would've, could've, should've, but other than a few local bouts over the next four or five years, no one's going to remember who you were.\"\n\nI glared at him. I hated this bastard. I wanted him out. \n\n\"Or,\" he said.\n\n\"Or, you sign this paper, you win this fight, and it's fame, fortune, and your name in lights.\"\n\nI needed to get this over with. I needed to get this guy out of my head. I wasn't superstitious, and now I had this story hanging over my head. Pop always said you become what you see in your mind's eye, and Lou's story was playing out in flashes in my mind. \n\n\"Give me the fucking paper,\" I said, and before I finished the sentence Lou had sprung to his feet, slapping his hands together in enthusiasm. \"Alright, now we're talking, kid.\" In a flurry of motion he put a piece of old looking parchment on the back of a briefcase. I didn't even read it; if I signed on the line, this mentally ill man would go away and leave me in peace.\n\nI took the fountain pen from his hand. Felt a slight sting; perhaps a jagged edge on the body of the pen. When I signed on the line, the ink was a deep, vibrant red that quickly faded to brown on the parchment. Lou wrapped an arm around me like we were old comrades. Cheap cologne, rotten eggs, and death. \"I never lose a sale, not one this big.\" He winked. \"See you around, kid.\" And off he went, through the locker room door. \n\nAs soon as he walked out, my trainer walked in. \"Where the fuck have you been? No time to argue, they're playing your song. It's time to dance.\" And I could hear it. My entrance music.\n\nThe walk to the ring was a blur. The crush of the crowd. The staccato flashbulbs. The shouts and screams. The announcing, shouting out the vital statistics.\n\nAs the announcer spoke, I locked eyes with Pavlo. He was a titan of solid muscle. He shook and snorted, stamped his foot like a bull. The crowd roared. He looked hungry. He looked ready. We came to the center of the ring to touch gloves, and he slammed his gloves down on mine. It felt like he was made of marble; it felt like I was going to be boxing Michaelangelo's David. For a fraction of an instant I thought about Lou's blue suede shoes, and then the bell rang.\n\nI came out of my corner and Pavlo came out of his. He threw a heavy right straight, and I moved my head to the left, felt the air as the punch blew over my shoulder. I loaded up a right hook and let fly.\n\nWhen the punch connected, I felt a sickening crunch-crack that resonated from the point of impact all the way up my arm. I watched Pavlo's head snap back and to the side, his eyes open in mute shock. His head flopped around like a rag doll as a great streamer of blood issued from his mouth. The shape of his left eye was all wrong, off-center in the socket. He dropped to his knees, then down on his face. The referee started to count, but seeing the expanding pool of blood beneath Pavlo's head and the way his legs twitched, he waved the medical team in.\n\nThe crowd, unaware of the gravity of the situation, was roaring. In the front row, in the center, I saw a man with crooked brown teeth in a moth eaten velveteen suit and blue suede shoes slowly clapping, a slight smirk on his face. I stared into his eyes and felt like I was falling down a hole. The referee held my arm up, the announcer said something, and I heard none of it." ]	2
No superpowers. Just doesn't age.	[WP] You're an immortal living among humanity in secret. How do you keep yourself entertained?	[ "The first hundred years were alright. Adam and Eve were pretty cool, but for some reason, he was not remembered the same way they were. Probably because while they were behaving like children in the garden of eden, he was busy getting the real world ready for them. The next 100 years, he tried being a normal human. He fell in love, he had children, he lost and he gained. Once his wife and his children were dead, he grew resentful. Why was he cursed this way. He brooded for the next 500 years, too fearful to form a relationship again. Once he realized that he was stuck with this malediction he resigned himself to it. He realized that he might as well have fun. The first of his pranks was that he pretended to be a inhumanly friendly fellow named Jesus. Most the humans ate him up, they were willing to die for him, until they weren't. His buddy Judas decided that a little bit of cash was better than keeping his friend alive. The romans came and decided to crucify him. \"Well this is gonna be painful,\" he thought. His body was nailed to the crucifix for a while, and then they decided to take him off it because it was rainy, and no one likes a rainy crucifixion. They threw his body in a crypt, which he decided to escape because who wants to stay in a crypt for all of eternity? Well the people didn't realize that he was still alive, and they thought he was reincarnated and then brought to heaven. His next big heist was pretending to be some preachy dude named Muhammed. He kind of started an entire holy war (which would, unfortunately, last for centuries). He didn't really learn from his mistake, and over the centuries he's started wars, political movements, and fanaticism. Some call immortality a blessing, it is definitely a curse.", "I wrote this as if the character just doesn't die as I imagine this is a possible way immortality could work (so he does age sorry!) :D Let me know if you like it, its my first attempt in this subreddit:\n\n\n \n\n\nHello\n\n\nMy name is Jonathan Watkins and I am 256 years old.\n\n\nOf course nobody knows this, as I have outlived anyone who ever loved me; friends, relatives, care workers, funeral directors, you get the picture.\n\nNow, while being immortal may sound like the dream of many, I have found that the negatives far outweigh the positives, namely, the fact that although I will never die, I seem to still be aging.\n\nI am currently sat in a wheelchair, as the muscles in my legs game up on my 164 years ago and have since shrunk into two slender, golf clubs that protrude from either side of my waist. The skin around my eyes has become heavy and has formed two elliptical tunnels which are supported by the gold, wire-rimmed glasses sat upon the eroding piece of bone that once resembled my nose.\n\n\nTo ease my crippling loneliness and gain the attention of others, I pretend to die. After all, isn’t this the only time we ever give attention to anybody who is over 60?\n\n\nAt first it was a national hit. A media sensation. “The oldest man in the world finally dies!” \n\n\nI resented the use of finally in that sentence as it implies that someone was waiting for it to happen and punched the air with their fist when they thought I had bit the dust.\n\n\nNevertheless, I would simply go into the street, hold my breath until I would black out, and suddenly crowds of people would surround me, staring at this tiny bag of bones and organs that was once a presentable human being.\n\n\nThen the ambulance men would turn up, wheel me away, somebody would tip off a journalist and my face would be all over the papers. That was of course, until they found out from the hospital that I was still alive. Then everybody would go back to the constant rush that was their daily lives, racing by one another without a single shred of acknowledgement, in a blur of worry, not stopping even for a moment, not even just to glance at this crippled skeleton and give him something; a look, a smile, just something that would make him feel alive. But it never happened. Except when I pretended to die.\n\n\nThe fourth time I did this I woke up in a horribly decorated, institutional bed again. The acrid fumes of cleaning products had filled the air and had roused me from my pleasant dream, or was it a hallucination, I don’t know what you would call it, but I always found it pleasurable to imagine the past; of earlier times, the generation you were cognitively and genetically made for. \n\n\nI turned the television on.\n\n\nThere was no news of this old fool, no message that shared condolences or sadness; the record continues for now, albeit reluctantly.\n\n\nSo now that I can’t do this anymore, I had someone build me a catapult that launches cats at buses.\n\n\nThat gets their attention.\n\n\nThe bastards.\n" ]	2
	[WP] Inigo montoya has spent most of his life hunting down his father's assassin : the man with 6 fingers. He finally finds him on Facebook, and adds him. Imagine the conversation that ensues.	[ "\"Count Rugen accepted your friend request.\"\n\nExcellent, Inigo thought to himself. He typed quickly, his fingers moving furiously across the keyboard.\n\nYOU: You killed my father.\n\nRUGEN: Sorry, what?\n\nYOU: My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. \n\nRUGEN: I have no idea what you're talking about.\n\nYOU: You killed my father.\n\nRUGEN: Stop saying that!\n\nYOU: Prepare to die!\n\nRUGEN: On here? Now? That seems inconceivable... :(\n\nYOU: My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die. \n\nRUGEN: Are you retarded or something?\n\nRUGEN: Seriously, you just keep repeating yourself.\n\nYOU: ...\n\nYOU: My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.\n\nCount Rugen has disconnected" ]	1
	[WP]Your superpower is that you get stronger from other people's suffering. You can only use it for good.	[ "I started as a madman. Powerful, with the knowledge of human suffering. Men and women alike all suffer at some point, and especially the ones in Africa... Good God they suffered. Alas, the curse had taken hold. I started with the biggest problems, thinking that my morality would win in the end, free me of my own curse. As I helped the people, and they began to worship me as a a god, I felt myself grow weaker as they found hope. Now, the world has advanced, all diseases have been cured, loved ones brought back, death defeated. \n\nI wonder to myself, what will happen when they realize my curse, and what will happen to them after. Will they revert, or carry on my legacy?\n\nWill I be reborn if humanity returns to suffering?\n\nI am but a thought now.\nNo form, no shape. But humanity does not suffer, save for one little child, who has realized who I am.\nShe grieves for me, in my state of death, but she cannot comprehend that she prolongs my suffering, my return to blissful sleep.", "I wasn't always this way. In fact, I was pretty normal within my group of peers. Maybe I didn't always think the same way the others did and didn't always agree with what I was taught, but perhaps that was what gave me my gift. Eventually my gift lead to my expulsion from the group and my exile from the community I had once called home. It pained me that I couldn't see my family again, but this only fueled my desire to spread my gift to others. My brothers and father had once condemned me causing many to suffer, but if being self aware and having free choice is suffering, so be it. I shall live in suffering. To this day I continue to spread my gift and have grown strong. I've been accused of doing wrong, being the root of temptation and evil, but I can only tell you that this is the gift of suffering. The choices you make are yours and yours alone. I've been called many things throughout my life, some negative and some positive. My name is Lucifer, but you may know me as \"The Devil\".\n\n- Don't blindly follow someone just because you were taught to. Question and learn." ]	2
	[WP] Write the diary of a superhero becoming a supervillain.	[ "Sorry, on mobile.\n\nMay 18, 22-- 2:27 p.m.\n\nToday the excavation team made an absolutely remarkable find! It was underneath the rubble of an old Magibiotics lab (documented as Excavation AM-132) - one of those ones that toyed around with the human genome and the later stages of the. School of Flesh and its subsets - and kept, in near perfect condition, inside a desk drawer in what appeared to be some sort of containment room. A small black journal (documented as AMOK-1282) detailing the life of an Esoteric. In fact, it was the journal of the very FIRST Esoteric, Randal Vann; the Esoteric who converted the rest. I haven't personally reviewed the journal yet, as it's still being screened for any contaminants, but by the end of tonight I should have completed my first skimming! I can hardly hold the excitement!\n\n\nMay 24, 22-- 7:47 p.m.\n\nWell, alright, the screening took much longer than expected. Much, much longer. The book held vast amounts of residual magics, assumed to be from the lab itself, not from Vann, unfortunately. We did learn quite a bit about the actual process of making Esoterics, but of Vann I assume all will be contained within this book. I've only had time to cover his first and second chapters, which detailed his early life and early experimentation at the lab. Simultaneously dull and exciting! He was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba, by the name of Jeremy Bitterbridge, to two very loving and supporting parents. Unfortunately, when Vann was nineteen years old his parents fell remarkably ill (Vann does no say with what) and passed away shortly after. From there, Vann was forced to retire his studies and work to make funds. He worked the odd job and eventually found himself as a subject of human trials. It was then he found out he had a great potential locked away, sealed up inside. Such is the case for the majority of humanity, especially in the modern day, always the potential for magic, but never the gull to act with it. The working scientists told Vann they could forcibly unlock this power, as the magicians of old did, and Vann, without reluctance, agreed. The experiments conducted on him were performed unconscious, or at least Vann had no memory of the event, and the results were astonishing, to say the least. It seemed the magics were manifesting subconsciously; he was using them without thinking. This resulted mostly in enhance strength and dexterity, though he had a slight precognition, a second at best, that seemed to be growing stronger by the day.\n\n\nMay 26, 22-- 3:30 p.m.\n\nI have finished read about half of Vann's journal, before the pages went mysteriously blank, and the man was simply interesting. Beyond interesting! He never did develop any conscious power, but the unconscious power grew to be controlled. To rephrase, he could not project magic from his body, but could instead control the magic within his body, altering it to superhuman standards. Truly amazing. The mages of old are said to have been able to accomplish such a feat, but a modern man? It says as much within his journals: \"I have been compared to the ancients\"... It was during these chapters of Vann's life that more subjects began streaming into the biotics lab. Marshall Smith, who would later become Vann's top general and staunchest ally, became steadfast friends with Vann. Smith and Vann, together, would continue to push the limits of their power to boundaries no one knew existed. Suddenly Vann and Smith could fly, lift a significant amount of tonnes, move at thousands of kilometres per hour, fire bursts of of energy from their hands and eyes. And Vann exclusively had an astounding charisma that developed. Together the two worked out a plan. A plan on what they would do with these powers: the would patrol the world, defending against any threats that came to Earth, or from any threats on Earth. They fought against rogue Esoterics, and mages, and creatures that came from the Nihil. Their numbers grew from two to three, three to eight, and on and on until they were a great protection agency, sworn to protect the world from any major to existential threat. The agency, especially Vann, their commanding officer, was revered by the people. For a time, anyone who work for the agency became an instant celebrity - anyone to the lowliest secretary to the highest ranking soldiers - and those at the top, Vann and Smith, and the others were like the gods of Olympus. And then Vann mentions something about \"reconciliation\", and the pages go blank. How can his story end there? It can not. Somehow the journal found its way into that containment cell, and from the writings it's apparent that Vann never left it behind. There must be some method of reading the blank pages...\n\n\nEDIT: I had all this done, but then Alien Blue didn't update my post, so this is actually my second time writing this part. Take that as you will. :(\n\n\nJuly 18, 22-- 5:00 a.m.\n\nWe did it. We finally did it. It took all night, and months but we did it. Decoded the blank pages in Vann's journal. All 286 of them. The secret was blood. To be specific, European blood. To be more specific, English blood. To be even more specific, blood someone from the south of the island. I don't know how or how Vann used this method to hide his writings but I- [the rest of the writing is smeared illegibly with ink, and then it stops suddenly].\n\nJuly 18, 22-- 3:47 p.m.\n\nMy apologies for the previous entry. You must understand that I was grievously tired, waiting in anticipation. I am about to begin the blank chapters (documented as EV - AMOK- 1 \"The Blank Pages\") and shall have an entry submitted tonight, hopefully.\n\nJuly 20, 22-- 2:00 p.m.\n\nI apologize for the delay, but the blank pages were more captivating, more horrifying than I could believe. They began with a war in Europe - some sort of spacefaring invader, Vann doesn't give them a name, instead he called them \"inhumans\", \"terrors\" and, most prominently, \"those who shall receive reconciliation\" - a war that brought all life in the European continent to near-extinction (I can only assume this is why it required European blood to view the blank pages; some sort of symbolism for their loss), and gravely tested the agency. It was during this war that the agency lost a great number of their officers, Marshall Smith and a collection of Vann's other friends with them. This was a hard blow to Vann's psyche. He retired to his office, in the Russian branch of the agency, and began deep meditations (where he wrote the earlier parts of his journal). He reflected on himself and began to see himself not as like one of the ancients, but as an artificial creation. He began to grow obsessed with this line of thought, often philisophicallizing on it for great periods of time. He began to see himself in an odd light - inferior to humanity, comparing himself as an ant. He began to... think as an ant, and, well, in his own writing: \n\n\"The smallest creature holds as much truth as the greatest. An ant will hold the survival of the hive over all else, over the life of any one individual. As well, so the ant is inferior to many other insects, they, together, may become superior. This is the agency. Any one agent is inferior to humanity; all of us together are superior.\".\n\nAs well, his anger over his friends's deaths caused him a great deal of sorrow. He wrote a great deal to honour the friends that he lost in the conflict, but ultimately found himself at the conclusion that the only way to rid himself of his sorrow and grief was to forgive the enemies that his friends. Again, in his own words:\n\n\"It is through the pain of forgiveness that one finds true peace. It is through reconciliation that all is forgotten. And so I forgive the terrors that have torn my relationships asunder. However, the inhumans have sinned greatly, and with sin they will not know peace. They will be brought to reconciliation.\". \n\nIt was this line of thought that led to Vann finally exiting his offices, going into battle in Europe himself, ending the war nearly single-handedly, and bringing the invading species to complete extinction. There was no celebration for the agency. It was a dark day. From then on, the agency became more and more ruthless. Swayed to carelessness by Vann's superhuman charisma. To end a conflict, the number of casualties no longer mattered, so long as a resolution was found. Marshal Vann never entered the field during this period, instead remaining in his Russian office, dreaming and thinking. His journals do not say about what, specifically, but eventually his thoughts began to lead him in the opposite direction as before, though with the same ideas of artificialness:\n\n\"I have been compared to the ancients. I am not like them. Whereas they were loved and worshipped by all the earth, and where they reached out to the stars and were worshipped there; I am not. They were the gods of men. Men who were gods. Whereas I am simply a manufactured guardian. But my thoughts are beginning to sway. I have been compared to the ancients. The ancients were gods. I have been compared to the ancients. Therefore, to compare, i must make myself a god. But I am not like them. I must be an artificial god. A god of the machine. Manufactured.\"\n\nAnd so with deification in his mind, Marshal Vann began a campaign that began in Russia, and spread all across the world. One by one government would fall to Vann and the agency. When they would send out their armies, Vann would eradicate them. When they would send out their Esoterics, Vann would either crush them (quite literally, in many cases) or convert them to the agency. The whole world fell, until all that remained was the continent of North America. This was done on purpose - Vann had been saving the continent for when the agency was at the peak of its power. For when he was mentally ready to stage an invasion on his home. The southern countries and states were conquered swiftly, but Vann didn't realize their people's resistance to\n", "Okay. So. She told me to write a diary. It would help me with my stress. Or so it seems. This is my shot. I’ve saved the world dozens, maybe hundreds of times. But he kept coming. No matter what I did, Dr. Fire would always come back and try and take me down. \nI just don’t get it. No matter how many times I locked him up, his army of lawyers would find some loophole and get him out. After he ki-\nIt’s not working, Gloria. It’s not. It’ll help me with the stress and grieving process, you told me. That was for my dog! It’s not the same! \n\n----\n\nToday someone tried to rob a corner market. I let them. Just watched. Why bother? It’s not going to fix it. I always worked for you. To make this place a better city for you to live. It’s no use anymore. There’s no fixing this shithole. \n\n----\n\nDr. Fire attacked again today. I stopped him. I beat him unconscious. Now he’s suing for damages. Ha. Like he’ll get anything from me.\n\n----\n\nHe did it. The Motherfucker did it. My identity is no longer a secret. I’m mostly homeless, though I have some money left. Lawsuits are expensive.\n\n----\n\nI’m out of money, but so is that convenience store. \n\n----\n\nThe police are trying to round me up now. They didn’t stand a chance.\n\n----\n\nThis diary is helping. A little. It’s all I have left to remember you. But, do you know what’s even better? His corpse. \nAn eye for an eye, I suppose.\nI miss you, Gloria.\n----\n\n\n\n \nMan? Has it been that long? Oh man! I completely forgot about this. I guess I don’t have a lot of time anymore.\n\n\n\n\n----\n\n\nIt’s been three months since I opened this diary last. My domination is complete.\n", "Day 1:\n\nI saved a cat from a tree. The kid looked like he had seen god when I flew up and grabbed the cat. The parents didn't look too pleased, but the kid was exhilarated when he got his cat back.\n\nDay 5: \n\nGot a promotion at work today. I was able to outperform Richard and he's been there for 20 years! Used my super strength to lift the pallets straight off the truck and into the back rooms. \n\nDay 10:\n\nSaved a woman from a burning house. She said I hurt her neck after I jumped out the window and landed her safely in the lawn. \n\nDay 15:\n\nI was approached by the police to do work with them to cut down on gang related crimes. Figured it would be easy for me to do it since bullets just fly off of me. This job came right in time since my last job had to let me go because of union issues and insurance problems.\n\nDay 20:\n\nI arrested the leader of the local gang today. I got a bounty for him and everything. Which is great because lawyers came to represent the lady I saved saying that I hurt her neck and now I'm being sued.\n\nMaybe I should scale back on using my powers.\n\nDay 38:\n\nThe arrest of the local gang leader apparently caused a power vacuum for lower ranking gang members and now the chief is on my ass to go out and stop these newer gangs.\n\nDay 40:\n\nGang activity is getting worse. There was a drive-by at the school today and a school bus of kids were killed. The chief says that if I don't shape up, I'll be fired. I reminded her that SHE came to ME for this job, but she didn't seem to care. She told me just to \"wipe em off the map\". \n\nDay 40 (continued):\n\nI did it. I killed all the gang members. Every new and old gang member and affiliate is dead in this city. I spent all day doing it, but the count came up to like 700 people or something. Didn't even break a sweat.\n\nDay 41:\n\nThe chief fired me.\n\nBecause I \"decided\" to forgo due process. I told her that I would only kill them if they tried shooting at me, but she says that since I can't die that way, it doesn't qualify as attempted murder - AND - I'm not really a police officer so I don't have police immunity that the actual police seem to have. I then reminded her that she was the one who wanted them wiped off the map. That didn't help things.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nI quit.\n\n\n\n\nDay 50:\n\nThe cops came to my door to arrest me today. They were there with a civil rights group that stemmed from the parents of the gang members I killed. Told me that I was a menace to society and that they wanted to lock me up. I COULD have killed all of them in a radioactive wave of plasma - But that would be wrong. I let them take me to this cell.\n\n\nDay 110:\n\nI've been in prison for I don't know how long. I guess the jury of my peers really means a jury of people who want someone else to blame for their problems.\n\nFine. Fuck em. Fuck em all.\n\nThe prisoners in here don't mess with me anymore. It only took one of them to learn the hard way.\n\nDay 245:\n\nThe chief of police came to my cell today. Wanted to give me an ultimatum. I would get my freedom if I went out and cleaned up her bullet-ridden gang re-infested streets. She says that she would rather have fearful and upset citizens that she used to have instead of the reckless and chaotic ones she has now. I laughed at her. She didn't understand that I WANTED to be here.\n\nDay 365:\n\nIt's been a year since I touched that meteorite. I decided that some fresh air would be nice to celebrate the occasion. I went out to the lake where I found it. The police were there, but their weapons were a joke. They didn't know what to do so they just let me walk.\n\nDay 400:\nI've been flying over this city doing some people watching. These people are animals. eating each other alive. And I'm just here to watch it. Because the second I step in, they look at me the same way that kid did when I saved his cat - which is great at first, but sooner or later, they will bite the hand that feeds. They will want me to fix EVERYTHING, when in reality I can't. I won't.\n\nSo here I am. \n\nA god watching animals eat themselves at gunpoint." ]	3
[WP] Your boss gives you an envelope containing your Christmas bonus. When you get home and open it, you realize that it is a blank check. What do you do? Do you use it? Run away? Give it back? Does your boss come after you? Tell me your version.	[WP] Your boss gives you an envelope containing your Christmas bonus. When you get home and open it, you realize that it is a blank check. What do you do?	[ "Alvin picked up the phone, still staring at the company check, all lines left unfilled save the signature. \n\"One, five, five...\" he muttered the numbers as he entered them, \"...two, seven. Okay.\"\nThe phone rung once before Mr. Elson answered, \"Hello, Jack Elson speaking.\"\nAlvin swallowed nervously, hoping his voice didn't break.\n\"Hi, Mr. Elson. It's Alvin,\"\n\"Oh, Alvin!\" Elson replied with a start, \"I do hope the bonus is adequate!\"\n\"Well, actually s-sir,\" Alvin stumbled, \"that's why I...\"\nHis boss cut him off, \"I already know, it's blank. I'm sick of the company and its shady pharmaceutical dealings, so do what you will. We've had the cure for so long, Alvin...\"\nElson trailed off, \"...we could've stopped it,\" a gun racked in the background, \"but they like profits more.\"\nAnd there was a gunshot.\n\n______\n\nPlease continue if you so choose, my phone is not something I wish to keep working on.\n\nAlternatively, tell me how to improve. Thanks for reading", "Getting home a bit early, I snuggled up to my wife on the couch. \n \n\"I got my Christmas bonus, hun.\" \n \n\"Well then, let's see what that old stiff did this year to stiff us!\" \n \nOpening it slowly, I smiled at her and took it out. As we both looked at it, we were in shock to see a signed check with no amount. I looked at the check, then slowly back to her. She stared at me, no smile to be found. She knew of my past; she knew of my frivolous tendencies, especially when I was younger. Without another word, I knew what she wanted me to do. But, she made it clear anyway. \n \n\"Don't even think about it.\" \n \nHer death stare pierced my very soul. It almost hurt, but I knew that was just my imagination easing itself into reality. We both knew that I wouldn't be back at the office for at least a few days, but I had a phone number I could call. Even so, thoughts of video games, mansions, pools, and millions of other ideas flashed through my head. I wanted it all, and this check could help me get there. \n \nNot noticing she had left, my eyes fixed tightly on the check, my wife came back with the phone. \n \n\"Dial. Now.\" \n \nWhat a bother. Didn't she know what this could mean for us? Easy street was just a turn away, if only she'd let me turn away the phone. But of course, that wasn't going to happen. She wanted me to correct this obvious mistake, and let my boss know of the mishap. So, I dialed, pressing the phone firmly against my ear in slight anger, and waited for an answer. \n \n\"Hello?\" \n \n\"Yes, hello, Mr. Malone, it's-\" \n \n\"No, this isn't Mr. Malone. Sorry.\" \n \n\"What? I'm sorry, I must have the-\" \n \n\"No, you have the right number. You're going to do a little job for me, Preston. A little job for an old...friend of yours.\" \n \nThat voice. That deep, raspy, familiar voice. \n \n\"..Quigley...?!\" \n \nThe other end of the phone produced maniacal laughter, and my wife's face turned pale as all color immediately drained from her face at the sound of that name; she knew it only from stories. I felt my stomach turn and drop as my entire body began to shake, recalling the series of events from my childhood. He was back." ]	2
	[WP] Write a story about a homeless drug addict that wins the lottery.	[ "These are both brilliant. Love the way you both used his addiction to take away what he thought he had. I'm new to Reddit so I'm not sure if I up voted your comments or not. Thanks a lot!\n\nHenry's story was the best in my opinion. I really felt emotion towards the end well done.", "The television is blaring in the background as I pull the packaging off a fresh needle.\n\nI measure out what looks like 125mg of tar, smack, chiba, dope... heroin. At this point, I don't care how much I inject, I just want some in my blood.\n\nIts good, its real good this time.\n\nI feel nauseous and shaky from not having any since yesterday, the withdrawals have already started. I hate withdrawals.\n\nI put the dope into a small metal spoon, add few drops of water, and put my lighter underneath. It dissolves easily in water.\n\nAbsentmindedly, I turn to the television as I put an elastic around my arm. Its tough to find a good vein these days.\n\n\"It's Mega Millions!\"\n\n\"Hello America, I'm your host John Crow, its Friday March 31st, and tonight's mega millions jackpot is a world record $640,000,000, whew! To win that jackpot, you must match these five white balls, plus the gold mega ball. Now, lets see if we can make you a part of lottery history!\"\n\nI watch the screen as the first five balls roll down. 46, 23, 38, 4 and 2.\n\nI poke at my veins some more, deciding on a decent one in my forearm.\n\nI suck up the good stuff with my needle, flick the air bubbles out, and push it into my vein. I draw the plunger back, blood flows in. Good.\n\nI push the plunger down, a sickening feeling comes over me as the liquid flows through my veins.\n\nI take the needle out, setting it on a lottery ticket I see sitting on my friends coffee table.\n\nThe numbers catch my eye- 46, 23, 38, 4, and 2.\n\nI don't believe it, I can't believe it. I am probably seeing things.\n\nI warm euphoria washes over me from my head to my toes, the heroin has reached my brain.\n\nSlowly, I begin to disconnect from the world, but still my eyes are locked onto the five numbers. I run through them again, slowly.\n\n46... 23..... 38...... 4....... 2.........\n\n\"I won... I have a winning ticket!\" I say to myself. \n\nEuphoria is building, but breathing is getting hard.\n\nHard to breathe.... breathing very slow.\n\nMouth is suddenly... dry.\n\nReach hand to feel pulse... pulse is weak.\n\nVery weak.\n\nToo weak.\n\nIt fades.\n\nIt stops.\n", "Goddamn, it's freezing.\nHenry needed something warmer to wear. He walked over to the shelter earlier that evening, but the beds were all taken. He hasn't eaten anything since the half eaten bagel with cream cheese spread on it in the dumpster he went diving in just after eight that morning. Henry was in pretty bad shape.\n\nNot only was Henry cold and homeless, he was suffering from withdrawal. His drug of choice is heroin. It's sad, really. Not to say that Henry had a whole lot of promise earlier in his life, but to see such a nice man, a genuinely nice man, slumped in an alley in between a hotel and a parking garage is heartbreaking. Perhaps that is why Henry was homeless. He never had the cutthroat attitude needed to get ahead in business. He never had a wife, girlfriend or even a lover. He's taken solace in a prostitute from time to time, but that was only when he had extra heroin to spare. Lately, that hasn't been any. He's been spiraling into a deeper addiction and the warmth of his high felt so much more inviting and consoling than the deceitful romance he found in whores.\n\nHenry needed to find something to wear. He wasn't sure if he was shivering because of the temperature or because he was coming down. Either way, he needed to put something on. He went dumpster diving in the dumpster where he found his breakfast. I coulda sworn, he thought, I saw some kinda coat in 'ere 'his mornin'. The dumpster was about six blocks away. Since it was getting dark, he decided that he should move quickly because it was only going to get colder.\n\nOnce he got there, he heaved himself over the front bar of the dumpster to get inside. Waist deep in garbage and compost, he found the jacket. It had been thrown in there because there was a massive tear along the left shoulder of the coat. But boy! What a coat! It still kept him warm. He wasn't sure what the fabric was, but he was damned sure he found it. It was an all black coat like the one a business man would wear on his way to an important meeting. Henry was cackling with laughter as he jumped out of the dumpster and landed on his two feet, which had a combined one and a half shoes. The right foot had been missing the toe of its shoe for the better part of a week now, but Henry wore two socks on that foot to compensate. Unfortunately, this left its counterpart bare.\n\nHenry felt so much like a big shot, he was walking back to his alley saying things like, \"Johnson! If I tol' you once I tol' you a gillion times! I want those reports on my desk!\" and \"Mary Ann. Mary Ann! Could you be a doll and clear muh schedule? I gotta get som' lunch with the ball 'n' chain!\" He was thoroughly entertained with this new persona.\n\nBefore Henry went back to his alley, he checked the pockets to see if there was anything in there. He stopped cold when his fingers ran across the edge of what seemed like a dollar bill. He snagged it and pulled it out to see President Johnson looking him dead in the eyes. Henry's first thought was that he needed to buy some dope. He jammed the twenty back into his pocket and briskly walked down a few more blocks and saw his usual dealer there.\n\n\"'Ey!... I, uh, need some - \"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, come here, you.\"\n\nThe dealer held out a small baggie and motioned Henry to come closer. Henry reached in his pocket and gave the dealer a - \"lottery ticket? Hold on you goddamned bum, come here.\"\n\n\"Heh?\"\n\n\"I need money, this don't do shit for me.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Henry said rather confused, \"I 'pologize for that, mister.\" He moved his hand around in his pocket and found the twenty dollar bill and handed it to the dealer.\n\n\"Here take this back, I don't do this stupid shit.\"\n\nHenry put the baggie in his new coat and then stared at the lottery ticket. He put it in the same pocket and started walking back to his usual spot. On the way back, Henry saw a television in a closed convenient store only occupied by a man sweeping the third aisle with a pile of dust, a half eaten lollipop and a candy bar wrapper. It was on the local news and since it was nearing the bottom of the hour, they were going to read the lottery numbers.\n\nWhy not Henry thought as he tucked his hand into his pocket and pulled out the slightly crumbled and folded lottery ticket. He moved it back and forth on the corner of the store as if he were polishing someone's shoes. Now that it was straight, he could read the numbers more accurately.\n\nWhile Henry was fixing his ticket, the first four numbers were up. They read from left to right on the bottom of the screen \"7...10...44...12.\"\n\nHe glanced down at his ticket and saw that his numbers were 7, 10, 44, 12, 66, and 5.\n\nHe looked up at the screen and saw that the fifth number was chosen - 66. He looked down at his ticket in disbelief, rereading the numbers on his ticket and mouthing the numbers to himself to make sure they were correct. Henry's heart was practically through his chest and knocking on the window. The final number was chosen, and he saw the beautiful hostess mouth the word, \"Five!\"\n\nHenry was in shock. He read the numbers on the screen. Then the numbers on the ticket. Then the screen. Then the ticket. Screen. Ticket.\n\n\"AHHHHHHHH!!!!!! I WON!!!!!!\"\n\nAs he was cavorting on the sidewalk, he had a moment of clarity and started pounding on the glass.\n\n\"Hey open up! I won the lottery!\" he yelled to the man who was furiously telling Henry to stop pounding on the glass.\n\n\"Shut the hell up, you! Take it to the offices tomorrow! Ya goddamn...\" he trailed off as he turned around.\n\n\"Yeah! Yeah! I will! Yeah! Tomorrow!\" Henry was still yelling. He sprinted back to his alley in jubilation and sat down next to his overstuffed dumpster which was only filled with cardboard boxes he would take out to use as a mattress every other day or so. Once he sat down, he thought about all the things he would buy. He got lost after his ninth car, his third house, the four one thousand dollar suits and the beautiful women. He put the ticket safely in his pocket and felt the rock of heroin he had bought earlier.\n\n\"Mary Ann!\" he yelled out loud, \"Don't bother me!\" He yelled again as he started putting the heroin on his favorite spoon. \"I'm celebratin'!\" Once the heroin was prepared, he tied a tourniquet around his arm from the show lace of his left shoe and shot up a good dose. The eyes rolled back to his head and he sat there, practically catatonic. A few moments later, he had passed out.\n\nHenry woke up the next morning very slowly. He was incredibly groggy and he was shivering. He hadn't felt this cold in a long time. The sun was just rising and he could hear a few cars leaving the parking garage. After Henry had woken up, he put his hand on his knee to help himself up. He was soaking wet. He had peed himself - again. Henry had lost control of his bladder when he shot heroin and only added to the cliche of a homeless person when he smelled like pee. He stood up and noticed that his coat was wet too. The way he had been sitting was almost upright so the urine started around his belt line and ran down his legs.\n\nHenry didn't care though because he had a winning lottery ticket to cash in. Piss stained trousers would soon be a thing of the past. He reached into his pocket and felt a doused ball of paper. He had a panic attack and yanked the ball out. It was his lottery ticket, crumpled into a ball and soaking in his own urine. He started to mumble \"no no no\" as he tried to untangle the paper and lay it out in the sun to let it dry, but he only tore it down the middle. Even if he hadn't, the ink from the paper was unreadable.\n\nHenry threw the sopping wet lottery ticket against the inner dumpster wall and started bawling. People about to enter the hotel stopped and wondered what had happened to this guy. Henry had thought that he had wished he would have thrown up instead of peeing himself that night. He would have undoubtedly choked on his own vomit and died in the position in which he passed out. If that had happened, Henry would have died a winner. Now, he's a piss stained loser. He may have felt the excruciating pains of asphyxiation moments before the serenity of death, but at least he wouldn't have to feel the perpetual anguish of knowing that he literally pissed away millions of dollars.\n\n\n-----\n\nedit: spelling" ]	3
	[WP] "I've kidnapped you four and brought you to my island to play what I call 'the most dangerous game': Tic - Tac -Toe."	[ "These were the first words that came out of the antiquated, 1950s vintage speaker set in the corner of the windowless hut. The only other thing in the dilapidated room was indeed a polished wooden grid, nine boxes of about three inches each. On top of it lay six brass crosses and six steel circles. It seemed simple enough to the victims, the bravest of which reached out a hand to the tarnished brass cross. Suddenly, as if it could sense his presence the speaker piped up again in a jovial tone \"before you begin, I must advise you that during your little spell under anaesthesia I have implanted each of you with a small device at the base of your spine, it is a small vial of sulphuric acid which will be released upon failure. Good luck, may the best man win!\"\n\nHastily, the seven men inspected each-other's backs. There was indeed a neat line of stitches on each of them, a clean cut obviously done by a professional. They'd already inspected every inch of the room, though the walls appeared to be decaying they were able to withstand the simultaneous pounding of the desperate men and the door was bolted tightly shut. Resigned to their fate, they drew lots from the straw floor to decide who would play first. When it was decided they sat down solemnly either side of the grid and shook hands. Shaking with trepidation the first man put placed the steel circle in the centre of the board. His opponent placed his first brass cross in the top-right corner. This continued until the first man, his mind crippled by fear allowed himself to be caught into a trap in which victory was unattainable, with a look of grim triumph his opponent placed a brass cross which landed with a small \"clink\" of finality.\n\nBefore the sound had echoed away, on the very \"cl\" of the \"clink\" the vanquished opponent fell to the floor and writhed in agony, screaming as though his very soul was attempting to abandon his mortal body through his mouth. The acid ate greedily at his spinal cord, at the very best he would be paralysed for life from the waist down but mercifully the intense suffering had caused a blood vessel in his brain to give way, finally ending his pain. The survivors were visibly shaken, one of them was a religious man and said a prayer so that God might have mercy on his soul, if anybody deserved a peaceful afterlife it was their recently deceased comrade in fear. A few minutes passed in silence until they'd gained enough composure to draw lots and begin another game.\n\nIn passage of an hour seven men were struck down one by one until only two remained. They'd both become immune to the death-screams and pleas to put them out of their misery, to seize them around the neck until they suffered no more. The game began with the now customary handshake and placed their pieces in silence. Finally, the last piece was played. It was a tie. Both men braced themselves, preparing to meet their maker.", "The Man hardly fit the archetypical serial killer trope, instead appearing more fittingly as someone who sold used cars for a living. A faded Hawaiian T-shirt hung loosely unbuttoned revealing a bare chest, and dark shorts with streaks of sand kissing them hung lazily, only held up by a dark, worn out belt. \n\n\n\nA farmer's tan kissed the edges of where his skin met the gaudy T-shirt, and Eva could only continue to stare in a haphazard mix of both horror and bemusement, as she attempted to process what had just been announced to the group. \n\n\n\"I'm keeping the four of you here as my hostages, obviously,\" The Man began. \n\n\n\nHis voice was playful, a rumble of something gruff hugged with the cadence of the spark of a naughty child. A disconcerting mix, and something Eva would have normally mentally made fun of in her head had circumstances been different. Being kidnapped tended to change your opinions on poking fun at the individual holding one hostage. She remained silent.\n\n\nThe Man continued, his voice now increasingly jovial. \n\n\n\"Obviously, I've brought the four of you here to my darling island.\" \n\n\nWith evident pride, he waved his unevenly tanned hands in the direction of the palm trees nestled in clusters behind him. It was similar to the way a museum curator would motion towards an object of value. Instead of being met with responses of admiration or awe however, only silence reigned. \n\n\nThis didn't seem to bother the Man in the least, and he continued, nonplussed.\n\n\n\n\n\"Firstly,\" he began. \"I'd like to apologize for lying to the four of you about this being an island getaway... But I'll try and make it up to you by offering to play with you instead. OK?\"\n\n\n\nAt this, the control Eva had possessed on her ability to keep her tongue bitten failed her, and she stared at The Man's face with a look of absolute hatred. His mien was painted with a feigned shade of something she assumed was supposed to appear as a medley of regret and sadness; her anger had been sparked at the realization that the sincere underlying emotion was one closer to glee. \n\n\n\n\"'Play' with us?\" She asked, her own voice a culmination of her natural combativeness and scorn for what she was being forced to be an audience to. \"Are you a five year old?\"\n\n\n\nThe Man only smiled. This was in its own way, more unnerving than if words had actually been said, especially considering the vitriol she had aimed at him.\n\n\nInstead, The Man turned to Elliot, staring at him with stormy grey eyes into Elliot's soft green ones. Elliot was a kindly looking man with curls of light brown hair, and he fidgeted with a sharp twitch as he noticed the stranger's gaze fall upon him. The Man's wrinkle of a smile was perturbing. \n\n\n\"You're her fiance, aren't you?\" The Man inquired. \n\n\n\nIt was more of a statement than a fact and Elliot instantly felt intimidated by the question. Momentarily failing to find his voice, he finally managed to speak despite having to do so with difficulty. \n\n\n\n\"Yes,\" he nodded, turning towards Eva. \n\n\nHis fiancee's face was flushed with fury, but he knew her well enough to know she was masking it to hide her terror. Eva had always been fiery, very often to her own detriment. Consequently, he couldn't help but worry she would be unable to keep her tongue in check; the gravity of what they appeared to be caught within was incomprehensible at best, and deadly at its worst.\n\n\n\"What of it, though?\" Elliot asked, attempting to keep his eyes focused on The Man now, instead of on his fiancee. \n\n\n\"Nothing,\" The Man laughed. \"Cute couple, really. All I wanted to say.\"\n\n\n\nAt this, Elliot was too taken aback to reply. Eva appeared as if she was about to snap something, but did not. This mixture of small talk and intimidation was doing its job well to make everyone feel threatened. \n\n\n\nThe third member of the group finally spoke up. \n\n\n\"Please continue with what you were saying,\" Louis asked him. \n\n\n\n\"What did you mean by 'playing with you'?\"\n\n\nLouis was the third member of their small group, having been invited along on what he had been told would be an 'island adventure' - one requiring a party of four. Feeling weighed down from the stresses of life, he'd accepted, thinking to himself that a vacation in the tropics was something he'd well-earned. \n\n\nDespite the obvious danger, Louis still could not help but wryly acknowledge that the 'adventure' portion of the island's advertisement had not been a lie. If anything, it had over-delivered. \n\n\nThe Man complied with Louis' request by responding with a question. \n\n\n\"Have you ever played Tic-Tac-Toe?\" He asked.\n\n\nThis question was met with silence. \n\n\n\nSo The Man repeated himself.\n\n\n\"Perhaps you failed to hear what I said?\"\n\n\n\nThe group remained frozen.\n\n\n\n \"I said... Have you ever played Tic-Tac-Toe?\"\n\n\nThe last member of The Man's audience finally spoke up, a young girl named Rosie. \n\n\n\"Yes, of course we have,\" she hesitantly answered. \"Who hasn't?\" \n\n\nRosie had been edging slowly away for the entire duration of this bizarre back and forth, but her steps backwards had amounted to nothing significant. Realizing this, her face flushed, and she moved towards the safety of Louis' back instead. \n\n\n\nThe Man continued to disregard their obvious discomfort, instead appearing to relish within it. At Rosie's answer, he had begun to clap; the sound of his applause was light and almost drowned out by the tides of the lazy ocean, but disturbing in its bizarreness all the same. \n\n\n\"Perfect,\" he said, after his clapping ceased. \"Then I don't really have to explain it, do I? Although I have my doubts that any of you have ever realized how dangerous of a game it can be.\"\n\n\nFor the first time, Eva was genuinely frightened. The Man's body language appeared to be too relaxed; the smile on his face failed to reach his eyes. No crow lines appeared at the sides of his face, an indicator of insincerity when it came to smiles. \n\n\n\n\"W-wait,\" Louis stammered, his own voice quickly rising in pitch. \"Why do you say that? Are you going to explain?\"\n\n\nThe absurdity of the situation had long since faded away, and had now been completely replaced with a sincere sense of terror. Whoever this man was, and whatever kind of game he wanted to play, 'danger' had the potential to mean almost anything. However, Louis was certain it would be nothing good.\n\n\n\"Of course I intend to explain it to you!\" The Man snapped, this time sounding insulted. His face turned a slight shade of crimson, and instantly Louis took two steps back. The rest of the group did the same. \n\n\n\"It's really very simple,\" He continued, the anger in his tone failing to dim in its intensity. \n\n\n\"One person is 'X' and the other is 'O'. You attempt to win a streak, and if it ends in a tie, no one wins. If however, three in a row is achieved, that person is deemed the winner. This game, is no different. It is, in essence, exactly like Tic-Tac-Toe.\"\n\n\n\n\"And yet, it's not, is it?\" Elliot murmured softly.\n\n\n\n\"Games change,\" The Man replied. \"The inherent rules in this case however, have not. Two of you will be 'X', and the other 'O'. As I said before, the instructions are the same. Achieve three in a row, and you win. If there's a tie, no one does.\"\n\n\n\n\n\"What happens if we lose?\" Louis asked. \"And how exactly, do we 'win'?\"\n\n\n\n\"As I said,\" The Man answered. \"Games change. The four of you will try to win by going about... A set of challenges I'll present to you. The winner will get to place one move on a Tic-Tac-Toe board.\"\n\n\nHe paused. \"Try not to tie, however. Because then, no one will win.\"\n\n\n\"What? No one will win?\" Rosie repeated. \n\n\nShe seemed close to fainting. \"What exactly happens if no one wins? Also, you never... You never told us what would happen to the losers.\"\n\n\n\"Well. What happens when a game of Tic-Tac-Toe is finished?\" The Man asked. \n\n\n\nIt was clear that this time he wasn't addressing any one individual, but the entire group.\n\n\n\nThere was a momentary silence. Elliot finally spoke.\n\n\n\n\n\"The game is over. The board is erased.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Man smiled, looking at Elliot with the same kind of approval a proud father would give to his son, after accomplishing something particularly noteworthy. \n\n\n\n\"Indeed.\"\n\n\nNothing else had to be said. The game had begun. \n\n", "At first, we had no idea what he intended. We thought he was going to kill us, or eat us, or torture us. But all he did was leave us alone on the island, and we did what we could to survive. Luckily my three brothers and I had hunted with our dad - when he was still alive. We knew our way around trapping, shooting, fishing, cleaning - so it wasn't hard at first.\n\nOn the fourth day we discovered an odd, square stone tablet in what we figured to be the center of the island, around 6 feet by 6 feet. We thought that it could relate to his purpose, but we also knew it wasn't worth fighting over. So we continued to focus on survival.\n\nBut the island was small - very small. We soon ran out easy prey, and had to begin to focus our attention on long-term survival. He said \"you'll leave when you're ready\" - but we had no idea what he meant. What was more important was setting up camp - as well as trying to escape.\n\nNot a single plane overhead, not a single ship on the horizon. Never. Not for the first week, not for the second. We were doing well for ourselves - we had fresh water, fishing nets, clothing, whatever we needed to survive. At the end of the second week, we heard a voice - it seemed to boom from the ocean, and hail in from the sky - \"teams of four\".\n\nWe had no idea what it meant. Were there other people on the island? Another four-person squad, confused and scared as we were? We were brothers, so we were good at entertaining each other, but family can become tiresome after a while. Even so, I had never felt closer to my three brothers than I did then.\n\nWe never found anyone on that island. But at the end of week four, we were exhausted. We burned all of our clothing, hoping that our one last signal fire would catch the eye of - something. We didn't care what. And it did. A boat came from out of seemingly nowhere and docked.\n\nMen with guns emerged from the boat, forcing us into cages on board. We could smell the food they ate as night came. Eventually, we fell asleep.\n\nAs we woke up, we felt more exhausted than ever. But we were on an island again - not the same island. We knew our island. But this island was something else. Not just somewhere - some other thing entirely. It seemed to scream out to me, the sand seemed to pulse with a dying heartbeat. \n\nWe were led to the center of the island, where there lay a stone tablet, identical to ours. We were told to stand on it. As the sand sunk around it and we were lowered down by thin metal cables that came out of the trees, I heard the screams of the island much more clearly - but the lower we went, the more they sounded human. My eyes were closed in fear, but I could feel my oldest brother nudging me in the arm, signaling to look. I looked.\n\nWe were atop a giant cage - full of easily a thousand people - naked, afraid, and all rushing towards the exit, on the eastern side of the room. Where did it go? Yet not all were rushing to the exit - there were some that were in the corners - or rather, what was left of them. They had been eaten. Gnawed to the core by fellow humans, out of the same desire that drove me to live on that island. I wondered how long they'd been here.\n\nThirty feet across from us were four others - certainly not related, at least not by the look of them. They stared at us, with an inhuman hunger in their eyes. At that moment, I wanted to cry and hold my brothers. But I was too scared to. Too petrified by fear.\n\nA voice, louder than the screams: \"Silence\". It roared like a lion, yet hissed like a snake. The cage ceased its screams. \"I've kidnapped you four and brought you to my island to play what I call 'the most dangerous game':Tic - Tac - Toe. These other four have been waiting for their chance- and you are it. Let the game begin. But first, teams of four.\"\n\nA huge sheet of metal slowly descended from the ceiling. It looked like it was coming down in between me and my oldest brother, and the other two. I looked across the way to the other four. They had stepped apart, but continued to stare at us with the same hunger.\n\nNo. This couldn't be. After all this, I couldn't separate myself from the three men with which I had the closest bond in the world. I looked at the sheet of metal - stained with blood at the bottom. It seemed that it wasn't going to take my desire into consideration.\n\n\"We have to split up\", the youngest said. \"I'll go with you\". I wasn't the oldest, but I loved him more than anyone else. I had to go with him, whatever it meant. We stepped to the left of the sheet.\n\nAs the sheet came down to the bottom of the stone platform, it split apart, and the metal cables brought us toward two of the others. \"What is this?\", I asked. No response, just a stare. As I looked at the face of one of my new partners, it felt as though I was staring into the face of death. \n\nHis eyes were committed and unblinking. Cataracts were beginning to seep towards the center, like ink in water. His mouth was cracked and hanging open, and reminded me of the grand canyon - wide, unmoving, and terrifying. I didn't know what to say. There wasn't anything that could be said. Just a game to play." ]	3
	[WP] The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse meet in a pub to commiserate over their seeming inability to bring about the end of days.	[ "The lighting was dim and the place smelt of sweat and stale beer. A greasy carpet underfoot showed a flowery pattern, now faded almost beyond recognition. Once, that pale brownish pink was a rich vermilion and the dusty grey a solid, deep-hued black.\n\nThe man sat at the table.\n\nThey were late.\n\nWell, it was only to be expected. In the history of time, no one had ever quite matched Death for punctuality.\n\nOne finger idly stirred the beer in his glass. If you happened to glance over at the right - or rather, the wrong - moment, you'd have sworn that through the glass the finger looked ... skeletal. You'd have shaken your head and resolved to get off the sauce, but you would not be able to shake that image until the day you died and met the man in person. Death was a stocky man, maybe later thirties, with hair starting to grey and lines around his eyes. He looked tired, he looked old, but in a comforting, avuncular way. Someone who liked motorcycles and fell asleep in front of the Channel 4 Racing, instead of someone who reaped the immortal souls of the human race.\n\nDeath WAS tired, inasmuch as he had any concept of it. His day had been long; it had lasted millenia. And now, just as he thought it had been drawing to a final, eventual close, something had come up, someone had fucked up, and those smarmy arse-bastard archangels had said sorry, we're going to need you to come in at the weekend.\n\nFuck that. He was going to the pub.\n\nOn the other side of the bar, the door slammed open. Framed in the doorway stood the biggest man Death had ever seen (and he'd seen a lot of men. Nearly all of them, in fact.) The mood in the pub palpably soured. Sad-eyed old men staring into their pints began to side-eye each other. What's that you said about my Doris? Death resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He raised his hand as the huge man stamped forwards, taking a drink off a table as he did so. The drink's previous owner opened his mouth and thought better of it. The big man sat down heavily and sighed, the long, pent-up sigh of a man finally sitting down after centuries of warfare.\n\nNeither man spoke. What was there to say? Ah, Death, the implacable and pitiless force that every living thing must fall to. How's your wife? She's very well, War, who personifies the innate fascination of humanity with bloody pointless slaughter. And your lovely mother? So they drank in silence until the door opened again, this time with a barely audible creak. The next man to enter was a small man. His hair was plastered severely to his skull and his little eyes blinked owlishly behind a pair of spectacles. His hands were nervous, always fidgeting and pulling at each other, his sleeve, his ear, his hem. His shoulders were narrow and his suit, although very clean, was ill-fitting. He looked like a gust of wind could blow him away. Unlike the other two, this man wanted to talk.\n\n\"Hello, hello, War, Death. And what about this business with the Antichrist, then, hey? Who, who do they think they are? Those shining celestial beings in their towers of light? I should like to tell them where to go! This is their mess, not ours, but who gets to clean it up? I tell you, gentlemen, I am sick to endless oblivion of archangels. You just grant me a face-to-face with Michael...\"\n\nWar and Death shared a look over the little man's head. He was Famine, a traditionally non-confrontational Horseman who nevertheless talked big. Anyway, it was almost impossible to get a face-to-face meeting with the Archangel Michael. Not even Death had managed it, and he was ultimately more powerful than anything Heaven had to offer.\n\n\"Let's no' talk about work,\" rumbled War, the first words the big man had spoken since entering the pub. He did not tend to use his words very often. Normally seen stripped to the waist and daubed in woad, War was looking especially presentable in black trousers and a black t-shirt (he liked black - it didn't show blood). He'd even combed his beard. He too had had to attend a \"Project Progress Conference\" with a couple of shiny-haired shiny-suited efficiency specialists who called him \"sir\" and smiled all the bloody time. It had not left him in a good mood. Even brave, no-nonsense, just-let-me-at-em Famine shut his mouth.\n\n\"Oh, I so agree,\" murmured a voice, seemingly out of thin air. \"We have so many other things to chat about...\"\n\nFamine yelped, War growled, and Death said \"For His sake, use the damn door!\" with annoyance. A grin on his face, Pestilence, the fourth Horseman, moved into the light. He came in the dark when you were not expecting him.\n\n\"Sorry,\" he said, trying for sincerity and nearly making it. \"I must have missed the invitation\".\n\n\"No invitation,\" replied Death in a softer voice. \"Since when have YOU needed an invitation?\"\n\n\"I get invited to lots of places, thank you,\" replied Pestilence stiffly. \"Open sewers, bad water, rubbish tips ... I mean they're not gold-embossed formal declarations like some people can expect, but they're quite good enough for little old me.\"\n\n\"What do you think about this Antichrist business, then?\" asked Famine, perhaps emboldened by the presence of his closest ally. \"Don't you have something of a stake in it?\"\n\n\"Me?\" replied Pestilence. \"No, that idiot Graham was talking a lot of rubbish. No, I got to field those two cocksuckers from the Upper Office telling me they appreciate my work and hope to continue this arrangement for the mutual benefit of all parties concerned. Fuckers.\"\n\n\"I did think you were looking a bit cleaner than normal.\"\n\n\"Well, thanks for noticing.\"\n\n\"But what are we going to do about this? This is the end times, the apocalypse. The Rapture is scheduled for next month, and they don't have an Antichrist!\"\n\n\"Well?\" War spoke up. \"It's no' our responsibility. I say let's drink and forget about it,\"\n\nFamine pursed his lips. \"That's all very well for you to say,\" he said archly. \"You like your job. How much fun do you think there is in potato blight?\"\n\nPestilence smiled. \"That was a good year.\"\n\n\"How much fun do you think there is in the bloody desert? It's hot as fuck and sand gets up your arsecrack. Half the time it's kiddies strapped to bombs and the other half it's computers. There's no' any soul in war these day.\"\n\nThe other three looked at him. He glared back. That was the largest amount of words they'd ever heard War say in one go; clearly something was on his mind, and he was just daring them to ask what it was.\n\n\"We could... we could just do it ourselves?\" suggested Pestilence tentatively.\n\n\"Apocalypse with no Antichrist? Don't be fuckin' stupid,\" growled War.\n\nDeath, who had until this moment been watching the junior members (as he thought of them) bicker with something approaching amusement, now spoke up. \"War's right. We can't do it ourselves.\" He paused and took a sip of his drink. \"The way I see it there's two options. We could sit tight and trust to God's ineffable plan (\"Hah!\"), or we could do the legwork ourselves. There's an Antichrist on earth and if we can find him we can enact this apocalypse\".\n\n\"But if not even Heaven could...\"\n\n\"Heaven, Famine, is full of incompetents. If you ask my honest opinion I think they're scared. I think they know exactly where the Antichrist is and I think they are shielding him. You know that middle management was a concept thought up Down Below, right? I didn't. Neither did them upstairs. They were all congratulating themselves on creating a creature so innovative and out-of-the-box (and guess where those phrases came from!) they didn't even think about the possibility it was a suggestion. So they started adopting policies and synergizing, and now Heaven is a big bloated bureaucratic corpse of an institution, and they know that they cannot win the coming war.\n\nDeath sat back and took a deep breath. He was angry. Although technically on the side of Right and Good, he was really a neutral force and he had no special loyalty to Heaven's cause. In other iterations he may not have been able to say the same for his companions, but this latest round of bullshit had really been the final straw. The Horsemen were tired. Eternity was a long time to be working and then to be told at the eleventh hour that there would be no relief ... well, there was bullshit and then there was bullshit. This was the latter category. Death leant in.\n\n\"I see everything,\" he said quietly. \"You cannot run and you cannot hide from me. I will find the Antichrist. I will find him and we will ride forth as we were prophesied to do. We will bring about the End of Days, we will see every angel in Heaven slaughtered, and then we will finally - finally - have peace.\"\n" ]	1
	[WP] A man is suicidal and happened to be held at gunpoint. He does not comply with the gunman's orders, as he figures this is his opportunity to get killed without having to do it himself. The gun turns out to either be fake or empty of ammunition. The victim soon decides he no longer wants to die.	[ "\"In through the nose out through the mouth\"\n\nWith every exhale he regains a small amount of clarity\n\nStacy's voice rings through his head\n\n\"in through the mouth, out through the nose\"\n\nThe ringing in his ears is vivacious and unrelenting. The only other sound tht is audible is the loud rhythmic pounding he feels in his chest. He tries not to focus on the pounding,\n\nHis knees buckle, his mouth grows dry, he tries to say words. Something anything at all. He tries to move, he tries to leave his position. He finds himself blankly staring at the nightmare before him. Stuck in time, stuck in an unrellenting reality. \n\nhe tries to close his eyes. It doesn't help to block the scene, he only see it more vividly. He hears the cries, he sees the pain. All of his external senses have now been mushed into one maleable soup. He smells, feels and sees everything that is wrong, but all he can do is watch. Mouth open, eyes fixed. Spectating his greatest fear, his dream, his only dream.\n\nA small empty sound fills the void.\n\nEmpty, \"is this what it feels like\", eyes fixed.\n", "What a drag, nowadays you don't need much cash anyway, but that car repair shop guy told me to get cash. That guy will go out of business anyway. Just invoice that stuff.\n\nSometimes I wonder why I even bother with this life. It is always like this, even if some idiot crashes into your car you have to waste your time dealing with getting it repaired. No one is paying for the time you loose. Well, regardless looks like I finally reached some bank.\n\n2 people were running out as I entered and once the door closed I have seen 2 other people with your typical black sock masks or whatever they are called. One of them had a big smile on his face and while almost laughing he is telling me to sit with the other customers.\n\nYou see, it is not like I am suicidal or anything, it is more like I don't care if I die. Were someone to ask me if I wanted to live, my answer would be that I don't care. Maybe many people think that way at first, but when faced with possible death they start to rethink their life and suddenly want to live. That always seemed a bit disgraceful, they should let people face near death situations when they are like in elementary school or so. Would certainly cut down crimes.\n\nWith that background the only thing I can answer to my predator is \"I don't want to wait in here for an hour just to get some cash\". These people are worse than queues.\n\n\"Tough luck, hey Matt look at that.\" which appeared jokingly, followed by a more aggressive \"You better get a move on or you wont get another opportunity\" , has been the rather natural answer from some guy robbing a bank.\n\nWhoa, that guy wants to kill me, sure is scary. I am too bothered to deal with that stuff right now, so I confirmed one more time that he intends to kill me. And while holding the gun against my head he made a sentence I am more used from some bully back in school rather than a grown man: \"you think I am joking?\".\n\n\"yeah sorta, I won't be getting out here for a while, so how about I help out a bit.\" . After finishing that sentence his partner also finished collecting the money, but at the same time the police showed up outside, fleeing seemed impossible now. Bet they will take some hostages now. They didn't respond, so I suggested further. \"Looks like you will need some hos-\"\n\nWithout being able to finish my sentence I heard a loud noise and a short period of immense pain in my right leg. Apparently I talked to much and got shot, what a pain. A second shot went through the foot. At that moment the crowd began to panic, but the only words I could here were the one of the guy who just finished collecting the money. \"How long do you think we are doing this? We have enough money to cover up one or two murders.\" He began moving his weapon towards my heart, while instructing his partner to move towards the exit in Building C.\n\nI got used to these loud noises by now, but this time I could dodge the bullet. In more than one ways you could say, because a second shot came from behind, which would end this once and for all. My predator fell as I realized I wanted to live. How disgraceful, now I am one of those people as well. I actively dodged a bullet, there are no excuses to be made. Maybe I could tell myself that I just dodged the bullet, because it would hurt to have a bullet in my heart. It certainly would have hurt.\n\nThe robbery ended rather unspectacular with policeman rushing in and me fainting. As I woke up in the hospital I asked myself again if I wanted to live. After looking down at my leg, which is now tightly bandaged I could say for the first time that I would rather be dead than having to deal with that leg for a few weeks.\n\nWhen I get the chance next time, I will definitely let myself get shot.\n\n\n\n", "*Checking Account Balance - $84,367. \n\nI can't stop a derisive snort as I think that whoever said that money couldn't buy happiness sure knew what they were talking about. The machine spits out the pile of twenties I requested. I don't even know why I'm here anymore. At the ATM or on this fucking planet... take your pick. We have this whole planet to explore- hell, we have the damn galaxy* to explore, but we're too fixated on our own greed to do anything about it.\n\nAnd I'm no different. If I was... well, who cares? I'm not.\n\nA harried voice from behind me says, \"Give me the money, man.\" Ah, and that must be the clear impression of a pistol barrel in my spine.\n\nWith a sigh, I turn to hand it to him. It's not like I need it.\n\nBut wait... he's got a gun... everyone is always saying that suicide is the coward's way out, right? It's not suicide if you're killed by a mugger though. Plus it will save me the trouble of actually pulling the trigger myself.\n\nThis guy's gonna do me a favor.\n\n\"Fuck you.\"\n\nThe gun pushes me hard into the machine. \"Dammit, man, I ain't fuckin' around here. Gimme the money and I won't kill you.\"\n\n\"Suck my-\" \n\nClick \n\nI feel every muscle tense up, waiting for that brief pain before the glorious final moment.\n\nClick click click\n\nStill no pain. Did he seriously forget to load his gun? This guy is worse off than I am, and I'm the suicidal one? \n\n\"What the fuck?\"\n\nI turn around to see him, he's obviously forgotten I'm here, drop the magazine and inspect it. It's full.\n\n\"Did you check the primers?\" I ask.\n\nHe jumps, remembering where he is, and drops the gun. \"The what?\"\n\nI sigh, \"Nevermind. Just go home and we can forget this whole thing, okay? I won't even call the cops. Hell, here's the money. I can tell you need it more than I do.\"\n\nHis brow furrows, but he doesn't hesitate to take the cash before sprinting away through the empty parking lot.\n\n\nThere's a feeling in my stomach that I can't explain, but it's something, and that's more than was there an hour ago. \n\nI pick up the clip and unload the rounds. Each one has a dented primer. That's fucking weird. What are the odds of that?\n\nWith a skeptical look at the stars I think, Okay, universe. One more day.\n \n\n" ]	3
	[WP] An elderly King stands alone, looking out on his once great city as a figure, hooded and cloaked, briskly approaches him. 'I knew it would be tonight. But not you. Not quite like this.'	[ "\nWork in progress\n\nThe castle had fallen. They came in the night, those that were once men. Once friends, once friends, family and companions. The dead had risen but not as they once were; shade and shadow draped as flesh.\n\nThey walked through stone as if it were dust and where they walked it was. Clouds of our once proud billowing behind them.\n\nThey came with menace or regret but with reasons unknown and faces not touched with passion. Masks of their former selves.", "Me and mah' 'homes whip out our cool new extendable batons as we pummel the king to the posh floor of his tower \"Not like this!\" He screamed as we took off the black robes we were wearing to reveal foam,rubber ogre masks I bent down to whisper a word in the painstaking silence but right when he stopped screaming to listen I said: dis mah SWA... Then we broke his nose and we ran.", "It was a warm night in late spring. the stars were brighter than they had been all winter. The clear air had brought me out to the balcony. I knew he was coming; everything had pointed to this day. The wind blew gently across the town stirring the fairy chimes left out to welcome the spring fairies. They would be coming within the next fortnight; but the breeze brought another smell. That smell, it couldn’t be. But there it was, as simple and sweet as I had smelled the day I had watched them ride off together on that fateful mission. “I knew it would be tonight. But not you. Not quite like this.” \n\n“I know. But the part had to be played, and I played it. As well as I could.”\n\n“Why was there no message sent? We would have sent help. I could have, would have gone myself.”\n\n“You trained me. I did everything I had been taught.”\n\n“What happened to Marcus? He was the one to stay, not you” \n\nShe looked at me. Those eyes, clear as the glacier ice, held me. “Marcus…” tears filled those clear eyes, but she held them back.\n“No, no the body was wearing..”\n\n“My armor” she finished. When they came after us we thought he would be safer and get farther if he hid his true identity. We switched armor as soon as we left the forest. We had no idea that they would try and kill me first. The arrows…” Tears were now flowing down her checks. \n\n“Come let us put it away for tomorrow.” \n“No, what I say can not wait.” \n\nShe shook her head as if to clear away the evil thoughts. “The arrows pierced his heart in the first volley. His mount kept fleeing, but with no one guiding him he lost his footing and was caught in a landslide. It must have been hidden for years…”\n“He was found three years later, after the rains had passed. But we had thought, the armor…” \n\nIt seems so unreal she is here. Not in the cemetery but here standing looking at me.\n\nShe continued, bravely recalling the tale that only she had lived to tell.\n\n“I made the pass and kept going. I rode hard too hard. I reached the cave but my escort did not. No messenger survived to be sent.”\n\nI could not keep from looking in her eyes again. “But it worked, here you stand as young as the day you left. You will rule then, not Marcus. I am too old to be any good in this coming war.”\n\n“No”\n\nThe bluntness stopped me. \n\n“I cannot lead the people, I will soon leave for the next life. Marcus is gone. You must lead. You are the only living royal left, my queen.”\n\n“No, our daughter shall.”\n", "The hooded figure's footstep's slowed then halted. He stood just behind and to the left of the old king.\n\n\"Was it justice? Greed? Blind ambition?\" asked the king.\n\nThe figure remained silent. \"The reason you've come to kill me,\" continued the king. Still nothing from the other. \n\nThe king sighed, and looked out over the city. \"Once, this place was magnificent. But that was... before. Your time that is.\" \n\n\"Did I ever tell you how I knew it would be tonight? I guess not. Such dark times, when I was a wiser man.\" The king turned from the balcony, and began to walk. Stepping forward, the figure gently grasped his arm and lead him to an old chair. The king sat down on it gently, then relaxed into it with a breath of contentment. \"Thank you. Now, where was I?\"\n\n\"Oh yes, how did I know you would come? Well, long ago, I was just another petty lord among the rest, someone striving for power, but not really knowing what that meant. Then, after one battle, I had an encounter with some witch type in the woods. I was injured, and not really able to do anything. But she took me in, bound my wounds and whispered in my ear. Whispered things I... both wanted to hear and didn't.\"\n\n\"It was the last day I was with her that she told me about this. She said that I would face death on the day my city truly rose, when my crown would pass to another. I demanded to know what she meant about a crown and city. She would only tell me that the one who was my greater would come and claim it.\" He chuckled, the crinkles under his eyes deepening as he smiled. \"At the time, I thought she meant... well, something different. In a way she inspired everything I've done. After I left, I pushed and struggled, driving myself to prove that no one was my superior. Then, twenty years ago, I sealed my victory over all the other petty lords with a marriage and a crowning. And in victory, I found my greatest defeat.\"\n\nHe paused and then looked up at the figure standing over him. \"I was the conqueror, you understand? The start of something. Not the one that finishes it. Do you understand?\"\n\nThe figure reached out and put his left hand on the old king's shoulder.\n\n\"Yes Father. I do.\" \n\nA soft noise. The old king struggles to draw in a deep breath and looks down. His son's right hand was pressed against his chest, with a growing blood stain under it. The old king looked up and smiled again, as the prince removed his dagger. \n\n\"Long live... the.... king,\" said the old man, his voice trailing off.\n\nThe king rose, and walked over to a small dais. On top, resting on a velvet cushion, was a crown. Picking it up, the king brought it up over his head and moved aside his hood. He then lowered it, slowly, reverently down onto his hair.\n\n\"Long live the king.\"", "Stephen King stood on the roof of the tower, his dark cape billowing in the wind. He leaned heavily forwards as though struggling with a great weight. His fingers grew white from gripping the edge of the parapet. The door behind him slowly creaked open, and a hard lined, weathered man strode out into the breeze, revolver in hand. Stephen straightened his spine, but did not turn. \n\n\"I knew it would be tonight. But not you. Not quite like this.\"\n\nStephen waved his hand, and a door appeared. He grasped the handle and stepped through, leaving it ajar behind him. The gaunt faced man sighed, holstered his revolver and strode after him. \n\nThe man in black fled from the tower, and the gunslinger followed.\n\nedit: I know it's silly, but its all I could think of." ]	5
An unexplained phenomenon has caused humans to miss an entire day. Using our position around the sun and the parallax of stars astronomers find that an entire day has gone by inexplicably. No one has memory of this, merely all humans have either been asleep for that day or do not remember it.	[WP] Astronomers, early one morning, discover that yesterday went by with no one waking.	[ "George sat hunched over his newspaper with his elbow propped on his desk. His head rested on a tripod of fingers slowly massaging his left temple. A thin silver ribbon of smoke slowly snaked around his cheek, coming from the cigarette held loosely in his right hand. Over and over, he read the date printed in the top corner of this morning's paper - \n\nAugust 4, 1973\n\nThe ticking of the large clock on the wall was interrupted by a knock on the door to his office. \n\"Yeah, come in!\" he called, still looking down at today's date on the newspaper. Harvey Manwell's head emerged around the edge of the door, a stupid childish grin stretching his already wide, bearded face even wider. The rest of his body quickly made its way into the room, not bothering to close the door behind him. He was wearing his mustard yellow and light brown plaid tie over a white, short-sleeved, button up shirt tucked into his grey pants.\n\n\"Wild shit huh?\" Harvey said, still grinning as he let his body drop down rather heavily into the leather chair across from George. Harvey tossed a stack of papers on Georges desk, covering his newspaper. \"There's the whole follow-up report we just got in. It's all been examined, er, re-examined or whatever. It's all legitimate. It's technically August fifth. Wild shit huh?\" He asked again. \"Hell, this might not even be the first time this has happened, imagine that! Who knows how many times this has happened in the past, and just gone unnoticed.\" He was giddy. \n\n\"So we skipped an entire day? And no one remembers?\" George asked, glancing briefly to his left at the calendar hanging on his wall below the clock.\n\n\"The report goes over all the astronomical mumbo-jumbo...but yeah, either the entire population of the world slept through an entire day, or the heavenly bodies all sort of sped up and zoomed right through to where they are today. Which should be tomorrow. Or whatever. I mean no one really knows what happened, but it's legitimate. Not some prank like we were thinking earlier.\" Harvey said, leaning back in his chair, crossing his left leg over his right. \"There is no real explanation. It could be aliens for fuck's sake.\" He said, grinning again.\n\n\"So now what?\" George said, taking a drag from his cigarette. \"I mean...\" He exhaled smoke, ashing his cigarette in the ashtray on his desk. \"What real difference does any of this make?\" he asked, looking back at Harvey.\n\n\"Well...I've been told this information stays between us and the guys up at the observatory.\" Harvey said, his grin lessening a little. \"It's still fascinating though, isn't it? I mean...real wild shit, huh?\"\n\n\"So this doesn't go public? No media or anything?\" George asked, resurfacing his buried newspaper.\n\n\"No, of course not. Most people probably wouldn't believe it, for one. And the population that would....well it's better not to get them all stirred up and what not. Besides, like you said, what difference does it really make? It's beyond our control and nobody even noticed except for the guys up at observatory.\" Harvey said, waving his ugly plaid tie. \n\n\"Ok then. Good.\" George said. He put his cigarette out in the ashtray, pushing it to the outer rim to join the rest of the crushed butts. \"Makes our job easier,\" he sighed. He opened up his newspaper to the sports section and lit another cigarette.\n", "\"Gibson what are you trying to tell me, that we're off by a DAY?\"\nThe Colonel looked at his tablet, and back up at his commanding officer.\nSince he began his duties at the US Naval Observatory he'd had a few glitches to report when the finer points of the atomic clocks had to be synced due to mysterious and mostly unknown variations in earths gravity and syncing them with the atomic clocks at Schreiber Air Force base. But, here was something on a magnitude that was beyond comprehension. They were off by a Day, well, technically a solar day which at this time of year was a fraction of a second beyond 24 hours but his math seemed to indicate that at the point which the Mid Atlantic Ridge had reached 'midnight', everything seems to have skipped a day forward and no one noticed except that all the computers, clocks, and even his super accurate atomic clocks showed the evidence. Now his CO was looking at him expectantly waiting for an explanation of which he had none.\n\n\"Sir, yes sir, please look at your phone, your civilian phone and check the date sir.. it's tomorrow. I mean, it's today but we missed a day somehow, everyone did. Everywhere\"\n\n\"How the hell is that even possible, even if we were somehow taken out of commission, the Brits would have woken up and noticed we were all asleep or stunned or something. What about the planes inbound from overseas on all-nighters? You're wrong. Sure, there's a glitch but it's not what you say, we got hacked... that's all there is to it. Get IT in here.\"\n\nGibson steadied himself \"Sir, this isn't a glitch, I've confirmed it with our astronomers. We have moved in space, around the sun, one solar day and a corresponding amount of time elapsed, but we weren't able to perceive it. We jumped ahead sir. It's Thursday by all the senses we have, planets, stars, atomic clocks. We went home on Tuesday and now it's Thursday.\"\n\n\"It's Wednesday until I say otherwise Gibson, you got me?\"\n\n\"Yes sir, but, there's more..Sir, the world didn't blow up and it really should have\"\n\n\"Dead Hand...\" The CO sat back down and pulled out a pipe even though it was 7:30am.\n\n\"Yes sir, we know the Russians have done a lot of work to decommission Dead Hand but it was designed to not be able to be turned off, so they man it 24x7 with redundant crews. If the crews aren't able to enter in the continuation codes every 4 hours, Dead Hand takes over. They won't tell us what it does but our best guess is that it launches every missile in their stock pile.. some of them they don't even know about any more because they are buried deep in frozen bunkers, but they can get those continuation pulses from Dead Hand.. sir, if even one of those launched our systems would kick in and launch a counter attack. With no one to stand down or mitigate the response, we would have blown up 1/2 the world last night sir... and that didn't happen.\"\n\n\"Well, maybe Dead Hand is a big dud after all? Maybe it never worked and they just continue the myth to keep us guessing\"\n\n\"That's possible sir but even so, we have our own issues. Nuclear power plants, air cargo schedules etc. Nothing is missing, nothing blew up and yet, we missed a day and no one noticed.\"\n\n\"So.. YOU noticed. Are you saying out of 7 billion people on the planet you were the only one to notice?\"\n\n\"No sir, it's been evident for a few hours but obviously it's taken us a bit to put the pieces together. As I said, the hiccup, er, it's what we started calling it happened about over the mid-Atlantic ridge. The duty officer this morning went to get a cup of coffee and noticed the clocks were off in the office, and when he went back to his station, everything had moved forward a day. He thought it was a glitch as well but ran it through the channels. They brought me in an hour ago and since then we've been in touch with every Naval time keeping station on the planet and everyone confirms the same experience.\"\n\n\"So.. so what.. I guess. I mean, what's the big deal really? Can't we just declare it to be Wednesday morning and carry on and adjust everything to line up?\"\n\n\"I don't think so sir, you see... however it happened and for whatever reason, the rest of the world is already living through the jump in the middle of their days. There's going to be trouble in the markets\"\n\n\"How So Gibson, how about you cut the crap and get to the point, I'm starting to get a headache\"\n\n\"I'm trying sir. You see, and I'm not a stock broker but apparently the markets are in a free-fall and our markets are due to open in 30 minutes or so. We missed a day of productivity, a day of interest payments, payroll, shipments at least according to the computers we did... and that is causing a lot of problems in the markets.. apparently... sir. Everyone's panicking. They think it's an attack or hack or something and pulling their money out of the markets as fast as they can.\"\n\n\"Holy hell.. we need to alert the President\"\n\n--------------------------------------\n\nDespite the executive order to keep the markets closed, the damage was largely done. An instant and inexplicable .5% drop for the one work day lost sent shockwaves through the markets that only accelerated as the day wore on. Under extreme pressure, the markets were opened the next day to a rampant sell-off.\n\nCulturally even bigger problems sprang up as there were disputes about what day it was. Communities argued with states, the states with the Federal government and countries split on what should be done depending on what time it had been when they noticed the change. China had noticed the change late in their afternoon so had immediately investigated and started preparing their markets for the imminent collapse of credit around the country. They wanted to keep the new date as others wanted to roll back the clock to reclaim their lost day.\n\nAstronomers, while not a powerful political voice, calmly pointed out that the Earth HAD moved one day's worth forward in orbit and that much was not in doubt. However; still others pointed out that other planets seemed not to be affected and were, relative to Earth's new orbit, a day behind. This confounded the experts even more as it seemed to be a global phenomenon that was localized to Earth.\n\nEven the moon was slightly out of place, it was in the position it should have been yesterday, if you accepted the new date, so it too had not been affected.\n\nThe chaos reigned for weeks, minor border skirmishes erupted and old rivalries become new military threats as conflict raged on about what day of the week it was. \n\nIt was exactly 21 days since the hiccup happened when astronomers around the world sounded the alarm that a rogue asteroid had been spotted only a few days from earth and likely to intercept us. A massive asteroid of iron and other heavy elements the size of Rhode Island. Small compared to Earth, but massive enough to scorch a continent and black out the sun for a generation.\n\n2 days later it was discovered that there was not 1 but rather a huge cloud of asteroids of similar dimension and mass along with a trail of smaller ones like an intersteller shotgun blast heading to earth.\n\nThe entire world held it's breath for a day, forgetting all conflicts and arguments about the glitch as astronomers tracked the asteroids and did their math.\n\nThe night of the passing was one to remember as the asteroid sailed safely past earth, just in its wake with fine iron dust skipping along the atmosphere making a dazzling display of light and falling stars.\n\nIt wasn't long before people realized that had the Earth been where it had supposed to be, it would have taken the hit full force and most likely been swept clean of life and atmosphere by the bombardment. The evidence seemed to indicate that the lost day was not a cosmic glitch or human scheme, but had somehow been the Earth itself. A protective instinct of a sentient creature.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "When the report came out, people thought it was a hoax. Just some college students that thought it would be funny. People expected that a couple days later real scientists would give contradicting facts and prove the whole event to be the ridiculous fabrications of children. But the days past, and no such facts emerged. Astronomers around the world remained eerily silent.\n\nThe news channels and tabloids naturally blew everything out of proportion. Some called it a sign of the apocalypse, while others claimed it was the actions of aliens trying to steal our resources while we slept in some kind of induced coma. They interviewed every nutcase with a story about being abducted or having a dream about god, and new religions popped up left and right, all focused around this event that nobody could even remember happening. Existing religions had varying explanations, but the most common was that a new age had begun, and that, in some way, god was returning to Earth to save the human race. The Catholic Church scoured every corner of the Earth for their prophet reborn.\n\nBut there was one source that kept people sane. The comedians of the world took the panic and hysteria and turned it on its head, lightening people hearts and promising them that it was nothing to worry about. But while people let those words permeate surface of their terror, their fear still festered below. The world was sleepless, aside from the children that were too young to understand what had happened.\nThe world leaders, at least to some degree, actually worked together to decide what to tell people, just for the sake of keeping their responses consistent and the populace in a manageable state of panic. Though what they said wasn’t all that comforting.\n\n“In short, we don’t yet know what happened. But we do know that nothing occurred while the world slept. No aliens landed on our planet, no apocalypse was set into action, and divine being arrived. This was a footnote in history, nothing more. An event that will be mentioned in passing in history classes. While strange, this event holds little significance.”\n\nBut people didn’t believe it.\n\nA few days later, a German scientists came forward with a new theory about the occurrence, something that she claimed the governments of the world were keeping from the people. A signal had been broadcasted across Earth for the entire duration of the day, and it had originated from deep, unexplored space. This scientist’s division had been assigned to replicate the signal and experiment with its effects, and sure enough, anyone exposed slept and did not wake up until the signal ceased. Something had put the world to sleep on purpose.\n\nAnarchy followed. Governments fell overnight, and entire nations were torn down by people that wanted answers and wouldn’t stop until they had them. In the aftermath of the destruction, people hid. They created small towns and societies, stocked up on food, and waited for the worst to happen. People slept with noise cancelling headphones on, tin-foil wrapped around their ears, boards across the windows. Every night they fell asleep with one praying upon their lips: “Please God, wake me up tomorrow.”\n\nBut as the weeks turned to months, these bastions began to communicate again. They formed alliances with each other. Everyone, slowly and with a little convincing, agreed that humanity needed to stand together against this threat. A new world order was born. People from every nation and background worked together to build a society that could withstand anything. The few nations that had survived the chaos were brought into the fold or left in the wake of humanities new destiny.\n\nTechnology advanced at an extremely rapid rate as clean, renewable energy was established. Businesses dissolved, and goods were handed out to those who needed them. Humanity worked together like a well oiled clock, creating a utopia it had only dreamed of since its birth. All in fear of not waking up in the morning.\n\nAnd from his seat, millions of lightyears away, an entity some would call God smiled, and took a moment to relish its much deserved success. Thousands of years of work, finally bearing fruit. It leaned back, closed its eyes, and turned on its new favorite song.\n" ]	3
	[WP] Bill Clinton hold a press conference to discuss the marijuana accusations. In a highly ill advised move, he admits that the accusations are true and then legalizes marijuana in 1992. It's now 2014.	[ "Not only was the international ban on recreational cannabis lifted after President Clinton's amending of the Controlled Substances Act and Boggs Act, but the floodgates had been opened for varieties of industrial grade hemp to be grown without legal penalties worldwide after the UN retroactively amended their Convention on Psychotropic Substances. \n\nHemp quickly became an unprecedented and ubiquitous resource almost overnight; being used a fireproof building material, cheap source of fiber for fabric that competed vigorously with the cotton market, a biomass for synthetic diesel fuel and methanol, and the oil derived from its seeds as well as the cellulose in the stalks is efficiently utilized to synthesize plastics. In 2001, President Gore made it his administration's prime duty to begin phasing out fossil fuels by signing executive orders requiring all fuel refineries to constitute hemp-derived organic additives to gasoline and diesel to concentrations up to 25% by 2010 and 50% by 2020, and heavily subsidized start up hemp farms across the country to meet the demand mandated by the government.\n\nThe cannabis flower material's importance is overshadowed by these brand new industries built up around the plant's other parts, but it is primarily used for pharmaceutical grade extracts that cater to a variety of patients suffering from acute neurological pain, seizures, and cancer, et cetera. Starting in 1993, thousands of research grants were awarded by the U.S. federal government to reverse the damage caused by decades of the DEA and NIDA's scientific bias. Corporations such as Merck, Pfizer, and Eli Lily all race to find the most inexpensive methods to isolate and purify cannabinoids from the raw plant material to produce non-psychoactive drug combinations with a myriad of analgesic, anti-emetic, anti-convulsant drugs. THC alone was experimented with in a medical setting, but its results were not as impressive unless other compounds such as cannabidiol were also present.\n\nCannabis quickly replaced corn and soya as America's most heavily produced crop. Monsanto successfully sequenced the genome of multiple strains of cannabis sativa and cannabis indica, and engineered new strains of cannabis plants for both high-tetrahydrocannabinolic acid biosynthesis as well as higher oil production in seeds and robust cellulose yields. High-potency cannabis heirloom varieties intended primarily for recreational use developed by Northern Californian growers in the 70's and 80's are now intellectual property, safeguarded in hermetically sealed hydroponic operations far away from industrial agricultural operations in order to prevent cross-contamination. These old-school growers and their apprentices worry that if any agricultural hemp pollen sneaks into these cannabis vaults, centuries worth of careful, clandestine cultivation will be ruined. \n\nToday, copyright infringement is now the only form of cannabis-related litigation that proceeds to drown our legal system. Botanists and other specialized scientists now find themselves consultants for law firms, fighting both sides of the war for cannabis growers' rights.\n\nThe alcohol and tobacco industries didn't go bankrupt by any means, but their profits begin to dwindle in light of a new legal vice. Liquor companies began infusing some of their products with hashish extracts, and craft breweries use cannabis along with hops for extra flavor and psychoactive effects. Budweiser maintains a stranglehold on the light beer market by renaming itself to \"Bud\" and adding 0.5% THC to its line of products in 1996: the color and taste remained the same and the non-THC containing brews were rebranded as \"Original Recipe.\" Likewise, almost immediately after the ban was lifted in 1992, tobacco companies began offering both spliffs and joints in many forms and potencies in order to stay relevant to this newly emerging marketplace. In this same token of maintaining relevance, the Coca-Cola corporation introduced Canna-Cola as a non-alcoholic alternative to the cannabinated beverage market.\n\nDespite all the progress that has occured in the last 22 years, Jack Herer's worst nightmare has come to fruition. Wars of the first decade of the 21st century are no longer fought over ancient hydrocarbon resource deposits, but for access to fresh water and arable land. The dictatorships of the Middle East begin to suffer political instability and civil wars due to collapsing economies and infrastructure. The dictatorships of Central and South America fight with bullets when diplomacy fails to nationalize their farmland to keep it out of the hands of American agri-corporate interests. While CO2 levels begin to plateau in the atmosphere, humans still behave in a similar pattern as they always have: addicted to convenience.", "Emperor Clinton looked out at the Eden he had created.\n\nThe new 'super' congress built in the mid Atlantic housed delegates from every nation of the world. All decisions were usually dealt with by lunch and the afternoon was spent throwing cash at science funding.\n\n\"You've done it Bill, you've saved the world\" the emperor thought to himself.\n\nA voice came from the doorway behind him\n\n\"Mr Emperor, the Asgard are here to discuss the allied planets treaty. They are in the main hall\"\n\n\"Thank you kriffins, I shall make my way there now\" the emperor replied\n\nHe thought to himself \"let's take us to the stars!\"\n\nHe ripped one last bong and headed towards the door." ]	2
	[WP] Like a hummingbird's migration over the sea, a task at the limit of human endurance must be undertaken each year.	[ "\"Uuugghh, do I have to?\"\n\n\"Yes Edward. Always yes. There is no not doing this. This is a part of who we are.\"\n\n\"I know Dad, it's just....it's so uncomfortable. Even the air hurts to breathe. My skin feels like it's on fire within minutes, and...and I don't...want to see it again.\"\n\n\"None of us want to see it again son. That's why we have to do it. It is our penance. Now come on, we don't have much time left until the auto countdown, and I want to get a head start if we can.\"\n\n\"Is it true what they say? That some people die?\"\n\n\"Is it....yes. Yes it is son. The shock and stress of it all is too much for some people to handle. The environment kills others who are too weak to stand it. Granted, that's a very small amount of people, but yes. It can happen.\"\n\n\"I....I really don't think I want to do this now.\"\n\n\"And that is why we must. Have courage my son. This is something that all of us must do.\"\n\n\"I...I...I...okay Dad. I'll be brave.\"\n\n\"I never doubted you would be. Now here, take this.\"\n\n\"What does it do?\"\n\n\"It creates an electrical effect within your nervous system that is needed to kick start the journey. You'll start feeling the effects in a minute. It also boosts your immune system to deal with the weather conditions if they're not too agreeable.\"\n\n\"....\"\n\n\"It'll help son.\"\n\n\"Okay...\"\n\n\"I'll see you in a minute, okay?\"\n\n\"Alright Dad\"\n\n\"I love you.\"\n\n\"I love you too.\"\n\n\n\nMy eyes flutter open. I've done this over 40 times now, but I never get used to the feeling. The warm amniotic fluid on my skin, the dozens of cables injected into me, the breathing tube down my throat. A few seconds after I awaken, the capsule flood doors open and all the fluid drains out. The cables disconnect one by one, and I pull the oxygen tube out of my throat as soon as my arm is free. I hear Edward's pod going through the same process. I can hear him struggling, still trying to fight against the machine's functions. His breathing is panicked. Probably waiting for the oxygen tube to retract on it's own. Once I'm free, I exit the pod and pull it out for him. He tries to vomit and almost collapses. I catch him as he finishes dry heaving. He's shivering. I notice that I'm cold myself, but was too concerned with Edward to realize it. I grab the two old, dusty towels that are nearby and hand one to Edward. \n\nWe dry ourselves off, neither saying a word. I'm trying very hard to ignore the third pod, inactive for years. Now that we've started and there's no backing out, we both want to get this done as quickly as possible. I can already feel the dry air starting to tickle my throat. Edward's already coughing, his lungs not developed enough to fully handle the environmental change. \n\nOnce we've dried ourselves, I find the large duffel bag I left in the corner a year ago. It has the same clothes and supplies that it had last year. Edward's clothes are going to be a little small, but next year he can start using his mother's. The two of us get dressed. I note the growing look of panic on Edward's face, but I give him a smile and he smiles back. He can do this. He's only 6, but I know he can do this.\n\nReady to go, I type in the combination to a keypad and unlock the blast doors. Warm, putrid air hits us both head on, and I have to make an effort not to gag. Edward is dry heaving again, but still nothing comes up. We step outside and face the world. The real world. \n\nBefore this, before having to live in pods to escape the deadly environment, before having to live most of our lives in a computer simulation just to feel happy, this place used to be a national park. There was a lake and a forest. On cloudless nights, the stars would shine so bright you felt like you could pick them out of the sky one by one. Now, it's one step away from being a desert. I remember all those years ago when I first started having to do the trek myself, thinking that maybe as time went on this place would get better. That the dull browns and reds would give away to green and blue once again. That the sand would become soil and we could leave our pods for good. That boy would be disappointed if he saw the world now. It is no better. There is no life left to recover what was lost. Just us, hiding away, stalling for time. \n\nI look around me at the other bunkers buried in the hillside. Other families are starting to appear, ready to make the trek once again, just like we are. \n\n\"Dad\", Edward whispers. \"Please, why do we have to do this?\"\n\nI don't answer for a moment. It always hits me hard, seeing it all again. He nudges me, still asking and I turn to him.\n\n\"Do you remember Washington son? From your history books?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I remember. It was where the rulers of the world lived, right?\"\n\n\"Not the world, no. Just our country. But you're right, it's where our leaders lived. It was the one city they were able to fortify enough to make liveable before the sand storms spread globally. From there they are able to produce enough rations for us to live off. But they don't have the means to get it to all the pod bunkers, and even if they did they wouldn't go to the trouble. So if we want to live, if we want to go back home, then we have to go get those supplies ourselves.\"\n\n\"But Dad, that isn't what you said before.\"\n\n\"You're right son. It isn't. That's because I believe there's another reason we have to do this, whether we all know it or not.\"\n\nI turn, gesturing to the dead world around us both. \n\n\"We may have our digital world we've escaped to, but we have to come back here to be reminded. To be shown first hand what our arrogance has caused.\"\n\n\"Our arrogance?\"\n\n\"Yes son. Not everyone likes to admit it, but WE did this. Humanity. We knew we were destroying the world, but none of us truly understood. Not until it was too late. We...we have to come here because this is what we earned. This is what we wrought onto ourselves. And for us to just escape elsewhere, it isn't right. We must NEVER FORGET what we did here. Because if we don't, we'll just repeat ourselves. We'll do it again somehow. I don't know how, but we WILL. We'll find a way. And we can't allow that. You understand?\"\n\n\"Yes Dad.\" \n\nI look at him. His face says it all. He doesn't understand me. Not yet. But he will. The next few days will see to that. I turn and start to walk, Edward close behind me. Neither of us say much. We have a long journey ahead of us. \n\nQUICK NOTE: I'm totally new to this, so any critiques are welcome. Anything to help improve. ", "It had begun slowly. Some historians believe that it was never designed to be a test, that it just evolved into it over the years. Patrick didn't believe it. There was no way that this was brought into being through accident.\n\n\nEvery year there were casualties. People who just gave up halfway through. Ones who decided it was no longer worth the effort. Those people were just... not around... after the testing.\n\n\nPatrick had managed previous years with some effort, but this year had been different. He had gotten a new job, moved... there was just so much chaos that he hadn't been properly prepared.\n\n\nHe held a hand against his forehead, trying to still his growing headache.\n\n\n\"Line 45 on form W-4? Where the hell is my W-4?\"" ]	2
	[WP] Aliens have taken over the world, and nothing has really changed.	[ "First it is the Tsars. We are no better than slaves, scratching livings in fallow fields as they cavort in their high palaces. They speak French and we speak Russian. We speak different languages, us and them. \n\nThen it is the Soviets. What a stab in the back: the workers finally rise, but so do the Red Tsars. We are back to the fallow fields, and the factories. We pretend to work, and they pretend to pay us. They speak Russian, yes - but they speak of ideologies and megadeaths, while we still speak of food, family, survival and love.\n\nThen it is the oligarchs. The fields become no less fallow, the factories still run, just for different masters, the cities are still cold and unfriendly. Still they talk of other things - of profit margins and market forces. Still we talk of those things we always have.\n\nThen it is Them. The fields, factories and cities are the same. Distant structures rise, creating great jagged shapes on the horizon, APCs and soliders patrol the cold streets, but we are used to these things. They talk of whatever they talk about. We still talk of our great-grandfathers and great-grandmothers, in their cold cabins before the Revolution. The old jokes, the old sayings, the old loves never die. \n\nSo it goes.", "Seriously? Do they not teach this sort of thing dirtside?\n\nWhatever, let me run it by you: We'd been extra-solar for, space, ten years maybe? When a Drac scout suddenly shows up above Earth, in a ship that looks like Theseus built himself a goddamn silver flying saucer. All devices capable of transmitting show this giant crocodile thing in a toga, and we're told that humanity is now part of the Drac Empire.\n\nAs you'd expect we don't take kindly to that, and respond with a sustained and total nuclear missile launch. Like, EVERYTHING. America and Russia had thousands of old ones just sitting in storage, and just pointed them skyward. Didn't work, though. The Drac ship effortlessly destroys them with point defences before thanking us for the training exercise and warping off. Three days later the diplomats arrive.\n\nSeems to have worked out alright in the end. We basically just have to let a couple of their ships drift through our systems now and again, and not commit genocide or total war on anyone. In return we get left alone to do our own thing and nobody else is allowed to try genocide or total war US either. \n\nPax Dracona, and all that. Now hand me that screwdriver, will you?", "\n\"I can't stand this political nonsense\" \n\nDad threw his paper down on the table, interrupting our otherwise peaceful family breakfast. My sister and I looked up from our bacon and eggs and exchanged looks. We all know where this is going.\n\n\"It's just the same crap every year\" he grunted in frustration.\n\n\"Honey, maybe it'll be better this year,\" signed my Mom, obviously trying defuse my dad's daily rant.\n\n\"It's always the same ludicrous promises,\" continued my dad banging his fist onto the table, \"they never about the real issues. When was was the last fucking time they even mentioned our debt problem!\"\n\n\"William, the children,\" warned my mother.\n\n\"We only have two choices, and both candidates are clearly corporate sell-outs, nothing more then puppets,\" dad continued, clearly not stoping his rant for anybody, \"what is the point of the democracy if my votes mean absolutely nothing because both sides are such garbage.\"\n\nDad had settled down back into his seat sipping his coffee. He always got angry in the mornings, and it's always so amusing to see him so worked up about such silly things.\n\n\"When the aliens took over I thought I'd be different, but even if the names have changed and they now look like bloodsucking monsters, apparently politics are universal, even between species.\"", "\"Another day another dollar eh Tom?\" \n\n\"Uhh.. what now? Sorry I wasn't following you\"\n\n\"Never mind, just keep at it..\"\n\nHis boss walked away leaving Tom to his work and only the sound of papers shuffling and occasional coughs. It was another long day at the Immigration and Naturalization Service, a Tuesday, free doughnut day at the cafeteria.Tom swore that this was maybe his own personal paperwork hell, filing form after form. His left arm twinged even before he lifted his stamp. thwack\nDenied. The red ink a mar on the crisp black and white form. The pile of paper shifted as the left pile shrank, the right pile grew. There were hundreds of applications for citizenship, all denied. Most days he told himself it was only a job, not to get too caught up in it. Families separated, fathers and daughters never seeing each other again. thwack\n\"Why even bother with this..\", Tom wondered out loud. \n\"Ahem, excuse me Tom, if you feel that your work here isn't appreciated you're wrong..\", his boss intoned. Coughing loudly he looked around before he remembered that he boss wasn't even in the room, he was probably down the hall monitoring the rest of the employees. Still his bosses voice was eerie and comforting at the same time and as he looked up at the clock he realized it was almost five. Tom gathered up the completed forms in his arms, a few fell silently to the floor. As he scrambled to get them, his trusty stamp fell to the floor, making a loud smack. Bending over to pick it up he noticed, maybe for the first time really, how odd it was to actually read see the text: 'Denied Citizenship Reason: Human\" thwack", "\"Shouldn't we like, care or something?\" Roger threw more scrap lumber into the bin.\n\nI was trying to load the nail gun, but the slide was stuck. \"Not really. God damnit, Dave, can you help me with this?\" Dave stuck his hand out of the truck window, and took the gun from me.\n\nRoger started shoveling busted drywall into the trash bin. \"I mean, it's kind of scary, Jack. Ships above the oceans, all that shit.\"\n\nDave stuck the loaded gun back out the window. I grabbed it and connected the air hose and flicked the compressor on. I waited until the tanks filled and it quieted down. \"They want water, man. Just water. We have lots of it.\" I reached down and popped two random pieces of board together to test the gun.\n\n\"Won't we like, run out or something?\" Roger snatched the board I just nailed and threw it in the bin.\n\n\"Okay, wait. Aliens have set down on our planet to exploit our resources, and have vastly superior technology and could probably stomp our asses into paste. And you're mostly concerned with running out of water?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I guess so.\"\n\nI sighed. \"They want water. Salt water is everywhere. So they show us how to filter seawater for ourselves, and all they really want is something that is toxic to humans, is overabundant, and pretty much useless for anything else.\"\n\nRoger seemed unconvinced. \"But can we-\"\n\nI cut him off. \"Look, dude, we've got a whole roof to do and it looks like rain. Can we just finish this damned job so we can go home and enjoy the damned weekend?\"\n\nDave stuck his hand out the window, thumb up.", "\"Oh, my. You'll have to excuse Zognax. He's only four-hundred and twenty three years old. Kids are so precocious at that age,\" the alien looked exactly like the 'grey' aliens from popular culture, huge head, big black eyes, and tiny mouth; except she had on a 50's style red and white polka-dotted dress and a large sunhat. \n\nZognax, her child, looked exactly like her except he running around the oval office wearing a cape and batman mask.\n\n\"Look at me! I'm North Korea!\" he shouted while throwing a toy soldier at the wall.\n\n\"I... see,\" the newly elected President of the United States lied. He had no idea what was going on. All he was told was to go to his new office for a very important meeting. \n\n\"It's alright that you don't have any idea what's going on. We're quite used to that, what with your country electing a new 'leader' every so often,\" the father alien said. He was wearing a fitted striped suit and a fadora. \n\nThe mother alien spoke, \"You've heard of the Roswell crash, right? Well, it was us. We were off doing some surveying and looking for a nice vacation spot where we can lounge around for a few centuries. We saw your planet and took a look, but Zognax here was a very naughty boy and turned off our stealth shields. Next thing we know, our family cruiser is shot down in a desert. It was very rude of you to do that.\"\n\nThe father alien nodded, \"We just left three inert clone bodies next to the crash and did the next most logical thing; took control of the minds of every leader on the planet. Do you want some brandy? It's very good.\"\n\nA bottle of brandy floated up, poured itself into a cup which then floated over to the President's desk.\n\n\"Wait, what?\" the President elect asked.\n\nThe mother alien smiled, \"We took over your world. It wasn't difficult or anything. We just need you humans to stay alive and progress enough technologically so we can fix our ship. Of course, little Zognax here isn't making it easy on us.\"\n\n\"Rahh!\" Zognax was now playing with a large King Kong toy, \"I'm an African warlord! Rahh!\"\n\nThe President sat down heavily, \"So, where do I come in?\"\n\n\"You?\" the father alien asked, \"You just enjoy the next four years and try not to cause a scandal.\"\n\nThe mother alien chuckled, \"Sorry. It's an inside joke. We cause a massive scandal for every President that's tried to record our conversation or prove our existence. That silly Nixon with his ubiquitous tape recorder.\"\n\n\"At least Clinton tried to be sneaky about it,\" the father Alien nodded, \"So you just enjoy the ride. Fund technology research when you can, and keep making those hilarious 'sc-fi' shows. We'll make sure there's no civilization-ending wars or meteors or anything like that.\"\n\nThe mother alien nodded, \"And if Zognax tries to do another Cuban Missile Crisis situation, we'll make sure he gets a very prompt psychic spanking.\"\n\nZognax stood up and pouted, \"You never let me have any fun!\"\n\nThat was when the President drank all of his brandy in one massive gulp. " ]	6
I have just washed a spider down my sink as it was trapped in there. I feel rather cruel, however upon watching for a few moments the spider managed to crawl out. Needless to say I left the tap on a little linger the second time but couldn't help but worry about what kind of anger the spider was feeling.	[WP] You wash a spider down the sink, however the spider latches on to the pipe and let's the water wash over him. The spider now exacts his revenge.	[ "He knew he would die down here. This canyon would be his death. He was a gifted climber but even he couldn't climb the sheer cliffs that boxed him in.\n\nHe prayed to whoever would listen to be saved. Promised faith and servitude. Promised anything he could think of.\n\nThe blank white sky, which had only a long outcrop far above to adorn it, was filled with a new figure. He had seen a creature like this one many times. Gargantuan in size it towered above him. He felt ashamed to not have realised they were Gods earlier.\n\n\"Thank you!\" He wept \"Thank you, lord!\"\n\nThe creature reached out, but did not reach for him. It touched the outcrop above. \n\nWater spewed from the end of the tap and splashed around the sink. Caught in a swirling wash of cold water, the spider tried to swim but could not. The tap stopped and the water that was left carried the arachnid, coughing and screaming, down the drain.\n\n\"God I hate spiders.\"\n\n*\n\nHe was upside down, then right way up, or was he? The water pushed, twisted, and rolled him - he could not tell where he was. A scream escaped his mouth for a second, but water rushed in the next.\n\nHe was going to die.\n\nThe water bounced him off a lip, and without thought he shot a leg out and grabbed it. The waterfall poured over him for what felt like an eternity. \n\nThen stopped.\n\nHe gripped the ledge with more legs. Far above him the outside world of the canyon shined down at him in a small disc of light. Exhausted and half-drowned, he started to climb.\n\nHe knew he would not get another chance, and he had chosen to live.\n\n\n\nThe climb was hard. The tunnel was sleek and the patches of moisture made it worse. He would escape the tunnel and seek his revenge. That was all he would let himself think about.\n\nHe wondered for a moment how one killed a giant. Killed a God.\n\nHe pushed the thought out of his mind.\n\nThat would come later. First he had to climb.\n\nThe circle of light above him slowly grew larger and larger.\n\n\n\nHe was there! At the lip of the tunnel, beyond was the canyon.\n\n...beyond was the creature that had tried to kill him.\n\nHe could not see much from inside the tunnel, and faced with no choice, he pulled himself out and into the canyon. It had changed. There was a huge flat...thing that reached from the bottom of the canyon and rested on the upper lip.\n\nHe could climb that. He ran.\n\n\n\nSam stirred the spices into the bubbling pot as he poured them from the tiny bowls he had measured them into. No longer needing them he put them, with out looking, on the chopping board that was half in the sink. \n\nThe small bowls slid down the plastic board towards the bottom of the sink.\n\n\n\nHe had seen the hand of the creature again and this time it left massive boulders that slid down the incline up which he ran.\n\nHard, white, and fast, the vast boulders thundered towards him. He dodged left out of the way of one, but into the path of another. A small gap between saved his life. \n\nThe hand returned and dropper more boulders.\n\nHe had no choice but to run diagonally, towards the ledge of the canyon and towards the side of the outcrop up which he ran. A boulder slid passed, and barely missed him. A second later it rung out as it met the others at the bottom.\n\nSomething was wrong.\n\nThe outcrop shifted. He felt it fall beneath him for a split second. The slab had started to slide down from the ledge of the cliff. If it's edge met the sleek cliff then it would fall flat and he would be trapped in the canyon again.\n\nHe ran as fast as he could, all eight legs pumped hard and fast. He was closer. Getting closer. The slab slipped from the ledge and fell towards the bottom of the canyon. He jumped.\n\n\n\nSam turned at the sound. The chopping board had slipped and came to rest at the bottom of the sink with the bowls. He didn't mind, it needed to be washed anyway.\n\nWhat the human didn't see was the tips of two tiny legs holding on for dear life at the sinks edge.\n\n\n\nHe pulled himself up and on to the wide flat planes that surrounded the canyon. He had been exploring them when the canyon peaked his interest. \n\nThe planes had changed since he had been there last - there were new formations everywhere. Hills. Mountains.\n\nAnd...\n\nIt.\n\nHis attacker.\n\nThe creature turned around.\n\n\n\nSam grabbed the bowl of cubed and floured beef and slid its contents into the hot pan that was next to the pot full of sauce. He didn't know why but he turned and looked at the bottle of olive oil that was near the sink. \n\nHe shook his head and looked back at the pan of beef he was browning. \n\n\n\nHe had hidden, just in time, behind a tall green obelisk.\n\nHe could not risk being seen by the creature. He would have to bide his time. He would have to wait for the opurtune moment.\n\n\n\nHe was old. Too old. Some of his peers said that he had wasted his life, was a spider obsessed. They didn't understand. Couldn't understand.\n\nVengeance would not just happen. The thing had tried to kill him, more than once.\n\nIt had taken the rest of his life, and he was older than most. They called him a crazy old man.\n\nHe wasn't crazy - obsessed, yes. Not crazy.\n\nShadows and height had been his hiding places. He had watched the creature. Waited for a weakness.\n\nHe found it.\n\nThe plan took years to be completed. When the creature did not come home for many days, and after several more of the creatures came to make noise and empty the house, the spider let himself die.\n\n**\n\n\"It was the darndest thing.\" He said, a beer in his hand and the same story he'd told countless times on his lips \"There was spider web all of the place in there and it looked like the mechanism had been chewed through.\"\n\nThe man laughed and slapped his knee, a few listeners chuckled, they'd heard the story before.\n\n\"Aww, well. No matter how it happened, the results the same when your brakes are cut.\"" ]	1
	[WP] "She always went to that little magical place inside her head. Only difference now is that she isn't coming back."	[ "8/16/14\n\nShe always went to that little magical place inside her head. It helped a lot when things got too stressful with work and relationships. She knew she always had that fallback. The reassurance of her ever-present imagination giving her an escape.\n\nShe knew it wasn't real, of course, but that didn't matter when she was there. It wasn't like she could forget. No matter how vivid the daydreams, there was no tactile sensation to accompany them. This realization always left her feeling deflated upon returning to her true life.\n\nIt hadn't been an especially stressful day. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened. But after entering her mostly empty apartment, she found herself lying on her bed in the dark. Sleep wasn't an option, for she was wide awake. She just wasn't happy here. Not as much so as when she was in her own world anyway. And she was a grown woman, so why couldn't she go where she pleased in her free time?\n\nA feeling of silliness niggled at her, telling her that a grown woman shouldn't spend her time daydreaming. What good was it doing her for the future? What was the point? It was just like smoking or drinking. You're spending your time with nothing to show for it, she thought.\n\nSo? she countered. Temporary happiness is still happiness. Now leave me alone.\n\nOff she drifted to that familiar land. Populated entirely by creatures and people of her own creation. Each had their own name, occupation, personality, backstory, and even relatives that she had not met. What exactly was the difference between this place as the so-called real world?\n\nThis place gave her exactly what she needed, what everyone needs: the freedom to be who she was without fear of judgement. And she reveled in it. Just as she did in her everyday life, she took those she met exactly as they were. No expectations of being more or treating her a certain way. They were who they were and that was precisely how they should be.\n\nA smile grew across her face to match the one she wore in her mind. It was almost like she could feel the grass between her toes and the friendly hugs of her fictitious friends.\n\nThere really is no difference between here and there, she thought. Except that I like it here.\n\nIn the back of her mind, she knew it wasn't real. She knew that escaping so fully to an imaginary would couldn't be healthy. But she couldn't bring herself to leave. Here was everything she didn't get from the world outside, ready and waiting for her. Why should she have to give that up?\n\n**\n\n8/22/14\n\nDanae Reynolds was found dead in her apartment on the afternoon of 8/21. There appear to be no signs of struggle or drug/alcohol use, but the police are still waiting on autopsy results to determine the official cause of death. \n\nMiss Reynolds is survived by her brother, Nathan, and her sister, Seana, both of whom deny any possibility of suicide.\n\nThe police say the truly baffling part of this incident is that Miss Reynolds was found completely clothed on her bed with an elated smile on her face.\n\nMemorial services will be - Cont'd on page A13", "Been a dentist for a long time. Dealt with my share of whacks and nutjobs. Some people tried to get off to a regular dental check up. Not the most exciting job, but it pays well. A favorite patient of mine was this one woman, she was a bit neurotic, I think they might say. Told me things that any sane person would just block out and phone the necessary authorities. Well, not me. I decided to listen to her rants, I mean they were always entertaining. It's not like she ever hurt anybody. But after hearing what she had to say time and time again, it's hard not to think that she was hurt. She had one of these weird symbols on her neck, something that always perplexed me whenever I saw it. Didn't look like a gang sign or some kind of cool tattoo, always gave me a sinister vibe. I just never remembered the damn thing once she started yapping. Legal or not, I decided to record one of her little rants. I listen to this thing all the time, trying to figure out what went wrong, what caused her to withdraw from our world.\n\n\"A night. Black and alone, torches give minimal texture to her crying eyes, letting the sanctities which we hold so dear in life be ridiculed and disgraced for the lusts and desires of others. They stand in attention, without thought and without question. All circling around my mother. A woman resting in the pentagram, writhing in pain. Screaming to be taken away from our existence, to enter the after world. Faceless, and silent they watch her struggle with the cruelty of agony. This is my birth place, deep in the woods, not within known civilization. She holds me in her hands, smiling, she would never let them take my away. I am hers, she cannot give me to the strangers of evil. But she is one of them, she is all of them. I am nothing but another sacrifice, the next in line. My mother is hauled away, into a cave. My first thoughts are of her suffering. When I am eighteen, I will be chosen like my mother before me. I will be inseminated by the holy one. And I will carry the child until I am useless. In that cave I will rest with my mother. We will be reunited, as my child is forced to walk the same Hell. It's been twenty years since that day. I've moved countless times. I keep running. They are always nearby, always following. Their chanting and malevolence has never allowed me to dream, I have only had nightmares. And I fear my time grows near, as I am starting to lose the ability to tell the difference. They want me to read the scripture, starting my immolation. I'll find a way out. I've had decent jobs, good friends, and even love, but nothing will escape this. So many of them were destroyed by them, in effort to reach me. They have tried to weaken and isolate me. My only place will be with them. You won't believe this Doc, but I've been happy recently. I bought a very old picture book. There is only joy within the pages, there is dust and it is falling a part, but it takes me away from this world. Butterflies, beautiful foliage, frolicking animals. It's so wondrous to me. It's so calm and peaceful, I can't help but cry at the thought of it. The book has since been taken away from me, but the pages are committed to my memory. I am losing my memories of old, and replacing them with those of the picture book. The tranquil waterfalls, magnificent rainbows, I can't help but smile. I'm only telling you this Doc, because I'll be going there soon. I won't return either, I'll be in a better place, and the cycle will end. Thank you very much, for listening to me. I've needed to get this out for a very long time. See you in six months!\"\n\nOf course, I never saw her again. My secretary noted she went outside and stood in the grass, for what seemed like hours. She finally went out to see what was the matter, and noticed her smiling. The bright sun was shining triumphantly that day, and her eyes were locked on it. She didn't respond to anything, the smile carved on her face. Her eyes were now dead, but her soul was free. She was sent to the hospital, where she still remains in a coma. I don't know what they do with pregnant women in comas, but I wish her well wherever she went.", "\"Ceci n'est pas une pipe..?* This is clearly a pipe.\"\n\n\"It's a picture.\"\n\n\"So? It's still a pipe.\"\n\n\"Can you smoke it?\"\n\n\"It's a picture.\"\n\nShe smiled, lips pursing in that smug expression that so often drew her features together. \"Just so,\" she chirped, \"images are treacherous.\"\n\nI'd met her on a Thursday afternoon, on the roof of the Howell building. I was so keen to smoke out my frustration, take out all my hatred for an ass-backwards balding boss on my lungs, when I saw her. It wasn't love at first sight-- no nothing as terribly cliche as that-- but damn if she wasn't the most beautiful thing in that smoggy city. I stared; I'm not proud of it, but it was all I could do. I stared and I gaped, and she stared right back at me. And then she smiled like we were sharing a secret and stretched out a hand.\n\n\"Close your eyes and follow me.\"\n\nFrom the first time I'd met her, to every time after that-- and I met with her a lot; I couldn't help myself-- it had always been that. She never told me why, but it never mattered. I followed her from the start and I'd never stop. I couldn't deny her. Maybe it made me weak, but I didn't care.\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nI would have followed her anywhere.\n\nHer name... it didn't matter. There are a dozen things I'd say about her before her name. She didn't belong to it; it belonged to her, just like everything she ever wanted. Just like me, though I couldn't ever tell for sure if that were by design or if I were just along for the ride.\n\nShe was clever, but oh, she was a dreamer. One foot in wonderland, and the other just a step away from death.\n\n\"I don't fall, I fly.\"\n\nShe was so--\n\n\"Bright? Beautiful?\"\n\n--breakable. And when she took my hand, I thought she might just fall apart if I touched her wrong, so I would cradle it like glass and she would tighten her grip like I was something she couldn't hurt, all nails and claws and ice.\n\n\"Won't you follow me to wonderland?\"\n\nI got dizzy every time I looked at her, but I couldn't stop. I felt like I would stop breathing if I couldn't see her.\n\n\"Is this what love feels like?\"\n\nShe would wake me up at five in the morning to watch the sun rise over the buildings, and with her, the concrete jungle almost looked like magic. But I always spent the time watching her anyway. I felt like my heart would break. She'd tell me things I didn't want to know, and I'd tell her things she didn't want to hear.\n\nI tried to talk her out of wonderland, but she never listened past--\n\n\"I love you.\"", "Doctor McLean stared through the glass partition, into the room beyond. Dim striplights crowded the ceiling and suffocated the light, bearing down with gentle patience upon the bundle curling softly in the centre of the room. The minutes passed, and the shape in the room sank slightly deeper in the cushions. He breathed heavily, and began to clean his glasses, holding them up to the small light to highlight the imperfections. He rubbed, eyes downcast at the lenses, away from the room. \n\nHe looked back up, and regarded the girl once more. He swallowed, and blinked tightly. She was wrapped in a straitjacket, arms wrenched back across her chest, almost meeting behind her in a reversed embrace of herself. Her slight ankles were joined by large leather cuffs, buckles gleaming raw in the silence. McLean gazed upon her, wringing his wrists. He took off his watch and laid it upon the table. He set it upon the items she was found with. A mobile phone, and ripped clothes, to be burned. A rainbow pattern pierced the grim sight like a sword against the tears and blood. \n\n\nHe sat and opened the file on his desk. His office overlooked the grassy area before the walls. He reminded himself of her problems. Surveying the files, the memories were vivid in his mind. It had been some time since he had taken her case. He looked once more at the pictures that he had once taken; red and purple welts crisscrossing her body. Bruising, and cuts. He licked his teeth, attempting to remove the acrid taste that had formed. Looking again, and once more at the notes of her sessions. She had a beautiful mind. Sharp and wide, it cut through the misty recollections that elude others so. She painted for him often, and insisted he hung one up. It was of a book, holding petals between the heavy leaves. \n\nShe had escaped one night, to see the town lights. Furiously they searched, overturning the streets and scouring the bars and nightclubs. She was found alone, among the next day's rubbish. Her trousers were torn, and she glared into the sky. She was taken quickly to the general hospital, where she assaulted the nurses who tried to take care of her. In the clinic, she swiped at everyone passing her, or walking near. She became hostile, and feral, no friends left to her eyes. She attacked another patient at the clinic, and was restrained. He recalled fondly the girl that laughed, and wondered what world she glided through now. McLean remembered her smile; she was not coming back from her world now. He closed his eyes, and prayed that he was with her. ", "Priscilla was always daydreaming. It used to be a peeve of mine, watching as everyone else was tapping away trying to look efficient in desperate displays just to keep their jobs, no one seemed to care that she was seated in her cubicle, blankly staring off into space. I remember one time I caught her with her head in the clouds and her cheek in her hand, balanced on her elbow rooted onto her desk, looking as if she was off in her one little world and it took me a minute of calling her name to snap out of it. In the end, I had to shout to get her to wake. She was so disoriented, she ended up calling me something weird like “castor” or something. “Greg,” I corrected her, “it’s your coworker, Greg. Who the hell is Castor?” That was a can of worms I regretted opening. She went on about this world full of angels and demons and all sort of mythical creatures and it ended up pissing me off that much more until I exploded. “Pris, this report is due on Thursday! You have two days to get this done so Jared can show the execs that our department deserves funding and you’re off in your own fucking world having wet dreams about vampires and shit! You need to get that twilight shit out of your head and work or the branch manager will find out just what you do with your time instead of pulling your weight.”\n\nNo one stepped in to defend her, but Priscilla was a nice girl, and attractive, with a potential for intelligence that no one really wanted to lose. At the same time, though, I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt that she was wasting everyone’s time when she was busy spacing out for hours rather than doing her work. I talked to some of the guys around the cooler and the feeling seems unanimous. “I don’t know where she goes but she seems super depressed before she starts daydreaming, then afterwards, when she comes back to the real world, she seems happy as hell,” Joe observed. Bill joked that, “she’s probably dreaming of all the dick she’s not getting right now cause she doesn’t have the spine to go find her a man.” It was sexist, but no one had a better theory.\n\nThen the day finally came where the branch manager found out about her trips to la-la land and came to have a talk with her; a very public talk. I’ve never seen anyone so verbally abused and berated as poor Pris was in that moment. It seemed to go on for hours though only a few minutes passed. The words “waste of company time and wages” came up a few times as well as the word “useless”. When it got really bad, she seemed to detach herself. Eventually, the boss got even angrier (which I didn’t think was possible) just as Priscilla stopped responding. It took a moment before anyone suspected anything was wrong. Her cubicle was ground zero and no one wanted to come close to an irate Jared Hollister. It wasn’t until he said “call an ambulance” that we felt concern. I knew he was concerned because “stress induced coma” sounded a lot like “lawsuit”.\n\nI don’t know why Jared said I had to go with her, but I suspect it was a combination of plausible deniability, me having my projects caught up, and that I was the only one that could lift her and carry her. So, under instruction, I met the paramedics downstairs and helped them load her into the back of the ambulance. I climbed into the back and got asked a number of questions about who I was and what happened. As I explained the situation as best as I could without naming names (a lawsuit is bad news for everyone), I noticed that her eyes had gone blank. I don’t just mean that she had zoned out. Her pupils and irises have disappeared in both eyes, sockets holding only empty orbs. The paramedics were trying to snap her out of it.\n\nI don’t know what came first, the loud honking of traffic going out of control or the sudden boom. All I know was what came next was the ambulance flipping over many times and me desperately trying to prevent Priscilla’s body from being tossed around like a rag doll attached to a gurney. When the rolling stopped, a paramedic and I managed to jar the smashed doors open while the other assessed Pris to see if she had been hurt during the roll. I expected to see some drunk driver who had smashed into oncoming traffic, what I saw was something completely different.\n\nI don’t think anyone knew how to react to what they saw. He seemed to float there, feet pointed to the ground but inches from touching it. Other victims forced from their vehicles by the managled steel that had once been rush hour were whispering. Some were talking about his armor, some were talking about his sword, some were talking about his pale skin and long blonde locks that made him look like the cover of a trashy romance novel. I was looking at his wings. Big, white, feathered wings that stretched several feet in either direction. It didn’t take long for an officer to respond, gun pointed at the being who had smashed his way though traffic seemingly from the sky. The officer didn’t ask who he was, but chose to say “what is this?!”\n\nI wanted to know myself. In a voice that thundered in all directions, he announced himself. “I am Castor. I have come for our Goddess. Her sprit is home, but her body is trapped in this melancholy dream. Relinquish it, and no harm shall come to you.” The officer attempted to detain him, but was sent away by a sudden blast of wind, sending him tumbling until a building stopped him. Several people gasped, one screamed, but no one moved. Castor only repeated himself. “I am Castor. I have come to claim the body of our Goddess. I will not ask a third time.” I wish I had paid attention to her story before, because I couldn’t remember if she had said whether Castor was an angel or a demon. " ]	5
	[WP] One night, while doing laundry, you discover your dryer is a doorway to another dimension. It's one filled with mismatched socks...and something much more sinister.	[ "This is the story of why I am buying 50 pairs of socks every week. They're offerings to the winged monster living in the universe that openes at the back of my dryer. \n\nIt was almost Christmas when it happened. I was trying to pair my socks, I had maybe two or three pairs of socks that were still together. The rest? Who knows. I even tried to sew them together before washing, but that didn't work either. I was reduced to wearing mismatched socks to work. \n\nUntil one day. I bent down to peer inside the machine. His watchful eye greeted me, making me jump back and hit my head on the counter behind. I think I fainted, because the next thing I remember is waking up on my bed, my head full of memories of the other. I knew he really liked socks. I knew he could come through any time he wished. I knew he could destroy our world with a single gesture. I had no choice, really. Now he considers me his priest. Daily at sunset I give him the socks. Then my life goes on as normal. Me, moving unnoticed between people that have no idea I'm saving the world every day. ", "At first, at first I didn't get it.\n\n\nThe dryer door was busted open, it was lined up with socks, some gloves, a few tea towels and a skirt (most definitely not mine), some hanging from the frame, others on the floor, in front of the machine...\n\n\nThis socks weren't mine, and though they were supposed to be clean (after all, you put in the dryer what comes out of the washing machine, so it's safe to assume it'd come out of it clean), some blue goo was drooping for them. Bocks had come down with me, and before I could even realise that he was there, he was sniffing the ooze. \n\n\n\"Bocks! Don't!\" He shook his head and skittered on his short legs to the bottom of the stairs, where he laid, crossing his front paws, as usual, and nodding arrogantly, as usual. This dog has more character than most people around here.\n\n\nThere had been a loud bang a while ago, just a bit after I'd started the washing machine. I assumed it was just the motor being capricious again, I had inherited it from the previous tenant, who himself had \"inherited\" (found) it from a bankrupt laundromat (in the street), just like the dryer, and as such, they were a bit oversized for a single person, but perfectly accommodated my bachelor bi-weekly laundry... Anyway, the scene that presented itself when I went down to the basement seemed to suggest something else, and where on earth do these clothes come from?\n\n\nLoud clunck.\n\nFrom... The dryer? Now this is getting weirder by the moment... it's not even turned on!\n\n\nI proceed to pick up the mismatched socks and various other clothes from the floor. The goo is a bit sticky, but aside from that, pretty harmless. I'm trying to free the way to move the dryer, there might be a rat behind or something, which would explain the noise, though not the socks or the goo. Let's figure one thing at a time.\n\n\nI look back at Bocks, he's still there, by the stairs, looking at me, nodding once more. Where did he get that attitude? as I turn my head to get back to these socks not of mine, I hear a yapping, Bocks is not here any more!\n\n\n\"Bocks?\" He can't have skittered back up stairs, I'd have heard him, and it take him some time on his short legs. \"Bocks?\" I advance towards the old stairs, he might have crawled under the wooden planks that serve of steps.\n\n\nBut then I see it, or them. Two amber dots, under the steps, hiding in the shadow of the stairs. I stop in my track and stay mute, I don't know what they are, nor how, but I can see they're full of malice.\n\n\nIt's staring at me, and I'm staring back, I start to discern the creature these eyes belong to. It's crouched, but I can tell it's smaller than me, it's not moving either, not making a noise, it doesn't seem to breathe.\n\n\nIt has Bocks, holding it. My dog is shaking and I don't know what to do. the creature is holding his muzzle closed with one hand.\n\n\nThe doorbell rings.\n\n\n In a blink of an eye, the creature runs in between my legs, still holding my pet, and jumps head first in the dryer, a bright flash follows. I catch a glimpse of the creature, monkey like but with no fur, two tails, it doesn't resemble anything I've seen before.\n\n\nStill under shock, I peak inside of the dryer, my dog and the creature are gone, there's nothing in there but a bright white ring at the back of the drum, instead of the usual metal plate\n\n\nI can feel my jaw dropping, I don't know what that was, nor where it came from, and definitely not where it went. There's someone at the door, but they can probably wait, Bocks can't, he needs me.\n\n\nI'm going in." ]	2
	[WP] A man sits next to you at the bar, he hands you a key as his eyes roll into the back of his head while collapsing to the ground	[ "\"Fucking bitch\", murmured Ernesto under his breath. He seethed as he watched the indiana-nebraska game and clutched his jim beam in his hand.\"How could i be this naive, good job ernie..\"\n\nAs Ernesto takes another swig of the hard stuff, in walks a silver haired man, takes his raincoat off and sits next to Ernesto. Ernesto for some reason noticed him because he was dressed impeccably. perfectly bespoke suit, cufflinks, azure tie in a perfect prince Edward knot. The guy just didn't belong. Ernie didn't make much of it and continued to sulk and regret ever meeting that cuban cunt.\n\nThe out of place gentleman orders a mint julep and ernie looks at him as to say \"look around guy...\" the man smiles back...\n\nWhat happened next changed Ernie's life, the cuban cunt's, and every one's on the north western seaboard\n\nThe man reaches into his doubled breasted jacket and pulls out a small card and with a terrified expression and a brow full of sweat he hands it to Ernesto. His eyes rolled upwards and he collapsed while clutching the glass that once held his mint julep. \n\n\"Guy!!! You ok? Ernesto immediately checks a pulse, nothing. The waiter calls 911 but it was a futile. Ernie knew that whatever worried this man was not going to bother him anymore. Ernie looks down at the card. It looked like a credit card,but the magnetic stripe was on the front and had the name of The Sands Hotel and casino in dark red lettering, with a piece of masking tape with the number 623 written in black marker. A key card.\n\nErnie sees the paramedics arrive, gives his account to the tired cop with the pregnant wife at home and leaves. He heads out walking and stops on the corner of East Santa Clara and 10th. He forgot to tell the cop about the key card. he takes the card out of his pocket and stares at it. \"Go to the cops Ernie, Go to the fuckin' cops.\" Ernie did not obey the sensible voice in his head and decided to head out to the sands. \n\nThe Sands sits across Circle of palms plaza in nouveau riche downtown san jose.A mix of art deco and calakmul, the sands was quickly becoming a destination for the wealthy Mexican elite and real estate moguls from the desert looking to escape from the mundaneness of personal body guards private jets and holes in the desert.\n\nErnesto enters the lobby, southwest meats venice, and proceeds to the elevator hits the button. He's joined by some drunk guidos from new york or jersey or something like the ones on t.v. hits the button for the 6th floor and gets off. \"623....623.\" Ernie slips the key card out of his jacket pocket. \"leave, go home and forget about this.\" Ernie stares at the card for about 20 seconds. \n\n\"Excuse me sir? Can I help you\", mentioned some hotel employee in a blue jacket with gold name tag.\n\n\"hehe, Yea I'm fine thanks chief.\" Ernie replies as he sticks the keycard in the door and a red light turns green.\n\nErnie enters... Turns on the light...\n\nErnie studies the suite. Nothing special. The room had been made. Nothing in the bathroom, Nothing in the room itself, under the bed cabinets, nothing. \n\n\"I'm out\" as he's leaving he realizes he hadn't checked the closet. \nHe opens a door and sees a small canvas bag. Ernie simple looks at it and wonders what the hell he's doing here in this dead guys room looking at his bag. He grabs it. Fuck it. \n\nErnie opens the bag and finds a macbook and some manila folders with strange arabic letters printed in red ink. The phone rings....", "The phone rings... \n\nErnie inches toward the phone picks up the receiver and listens. Nothing.\n\"They're not saying anything neither will you,\"says the little voice in Ernie's head,\" This time he obeys. It went on like this for 15 seconds. Ernie sets the receiver down and calmly walks out of the room knowing full well that whoever was on the other end of that line knows someone was there. Something told ernie he was not being paranoid. \n\nIt took ernie 15 minutes to get home. The 15 most uneventful minutes of his life,but on the way he could not contain his curiosity for those strange letters in arabic and the laptop. What was this about? Ernie finally arrives to his small fifth floor apartment on McLaughlin Avenue, a small 1 bedroom cozy sardine can that he used to share with Deyanira until she left him. Ernie sets his jacket on the sofa and proceeded to inspect the contents of the bag, a bag that belonged to a man who was now dead whose name he did not even know. \n\n\nAmman, Jordan\n\nGeneral Faisal ibn Shaker is taking the morning lightly today. Being a devout muslim, the general still loved a glass of Balvenie 40 years and no amount of religion could take that away. Liquor laws in his majesty's kingdom were more relaxed and actually existed as opposed to those other extremists who couldn't understand the meaning of a good time. \n\n\"Thank god I'm jordanian\", murmured the general under his breath with a wet cloth over his eyes and a couple of ibuprofen already making their way north to where a neuronal revolt was raging.\n\nGeneral Faisal Ibn Shaker was the Director of the famed Dairat al-Mukhabarat al-Ammah, known as the General Intelligence Directorate or G.I.D. in the west or more commonly and simply as Jordanian Intelligence. Despite being a nation of roughly 7 million and having a GDP that lies between that of Ivory coast and Honduras, Jordan had carved out one of the most professional and important intelligence agencies in the world.This was was not due to cutting edge technology or next generation drones or surveillance but from time honored techniques such as tradecraft and deception.Being from the region and knowing the people you were chasing did not hurt either. \"If only our american brethren could see that.\"thought the general. Faisal had occupied the post of director of G.I.D. for 4 years and had been responsible for some of the most impressive and spectacular grabs in modern intelligence history although the really interesting finds were classified and as any good intelligence operation would remain secret forever. The nab of Ibn Musaid and Abdulfatah al-sabah were some of the more publicized and famous achievements but nothing compared to the whale that he was trying to catch now. A whale that if allowed to roam free could bring about the destruction of his kingdom and of much of the civilized world. His majesty's kingdom had agents placed not just in the middle east his agents spanned the globe reaching locals as far as La Paz and anchorage. Terror did not discriminate when it came to geography any more. \n\nIman his lovely secretary knocks on the door. \"General, we have word from San Jose.They're ready for you downstairs\" and just like that the General's headache would mushroomed into a full out war." ]	2
Usually, finding an ancient sleeping anything is a bad thing. Let's see some stories where it turns out better than okay.	[WP] In a forgotten chamber, the protagonist discovers a dormant robot army. It's a good thing.	[ "The musky, pervasive scent of dirt and mold filled my nostrils. I took another deep breath, letting that old air fill my lungs, steadying myself, just looking down, down into the maw of earth that opened below me. The cave was vast, it's winding curves and tunnels all but unexplored.\n\n\"Ok Jamie...no different than any other dive...\" I whispered to myself. In the deafening silence of the caverns, it was neigh a yell as it echoed off the walls. I'd always dived alone like this, but something about this shook me to my core. I could barely see an inch in front of my face, and with that sinking, slithering feeling in my gut...fuck I wasn't sure I wanted to.\n\nMy fingers sought the cold stone wall, slick with the moisture of a thousand years of untouched stillness, my rope leading back into the daylight the only reassurance that I might not be the only one left in the world. My mind raced...it wasn't the fact that I might be alone that frightened me. It was the fact that I might NOT.\n\nOn the surface I knew what awaited my return...family, friends...and a host of those who ran the world. The Contingent. Cruel masters who had taken control after the last flakes of a nuclear winter had fallen. They held us with a contemptuous glare and an iron fist, and most of what I found on any given dive belonged to them. The only things I kept were what they decided wasn't valuable.\n\nI let out a long, world-weary sigh, flicking the switch on the descender and coaxing my lamp to light, an old pre-war lantern that ran on batteries. Who knew that batteries would become the currency after all that? Well...ok, I'm sure someone knew. Or guessed.\n\n\"Stop stalling Jamie...\" my booming whisper came again, and I sunk into the black. Watching rock formations older than anything I'd ever heard of slowly slide past me as I descended, I wondered what this dive might bring me. \"Or them...\" I said, again, to no one.\n\nThe descender stopped by itself with a little click bzzzzzz...and I'd reached the end of my rope. Not...not like an expression, that was literally all the rope I had. And my feet still swung in open air.\n\n\"Fucking fantastic...\"\n\nI tried to swing and shine my lantern down into the black. Nothing, can't find the ground...so now it's time to decide if I drop. The proverbial leap of faith had killed more divers than I cared to mention, and why not, it's absolutely stupid. But the allure of the loot is just...\n\nI gripped the descender in both hands, pulling the latch in opposite directions and swallowed hard, preparing for the worst. It unclasped from the rope, and I felt my stomach start to spin on itself, vertigo embracing me as I entered an open fall. When you fall in darkness, there's literally no telling how far you've fallen, and when you're in mid fall, that can last for-fucking-ever.\n\nThough in reality...I probably fell twenty feet. I landed hard, but flexed my knees and ankles to embrace my weight. I hit the stone, and found my feet on...what was this, maybe marble? Limestone? It was incredibly smooth. Almost purposeful. Re-orienting myself, I popped out a little LED light, setting it where I'd fallen on the ground, allowing me to locate the rope again.\n\nIt didn't take more than a couple dozen steps in the direction that my instinct sent me off in before I saw the gate. I say gate, but this doesn't properly explain what I mean. Massive doors, carved of stone, ornately decorated in shimmering gold stood before me. A terrible sense of dread overtook me, nothing good could come from this. My fingers traced the lines of the door, and I marveled at the craftsmanship.\n\nI closed my eyes and pushed...and the door gave way. Surprisingly simple, with less than full force, the door began to open, silently. I winced at the silence, I'd braced myself for some ancient evil to reach it's slimy tentacle out and swallow the world whole...but...nothing.\n\nI ventured a step inside, my whole body trembling with anticipation. Shaking hands rose that old lantern into the air, but the dusky black was far too much to allow my vision any leeway.\n\n\"Assembling data, MAC address 00-08-CE-07-41-01, Loading start-up protocol 1.01, initializing.\" A female voice rung out with perfect clarity across the room. I froze in my steps, shocked by the precision, the tone, the very fucking fact that it sounded like some computerized woman was hiding down here. I held my breath and waited to be...oh fuck I don't know. Vaporized? Yeah, sure, vaporized.\n\nStepping into the light, movements as sure and smooth as her voice, precise in her perfection, was a young girl. She stood before me in the tattered remains of pre-war clothing, her skin flawless though, her amazingly straight and long blonde hair running down past her back. Her eerie smile was charming in its own way, pursed little pink lips, her eyes glowed blue.\n\nNo, not romantically, her fucking eyes shimmered with an electronic light, it was absolutely creepy. Taking a quick stock of her body (hey, I'm still human dammit) I judged her to be maybe eighteen or nineteen. She looked good...for what I can assume is a robot. The rags of pre-war clothing left little to the imagination, although oddly her breast had no nipple, her stomach had no belly button...it was unsettling. But hardly as unsettling as what followed.\n\n\"Project Lily engaged, how may we serve you?\" She tilted her head, some gesture of offering, that little smile quirked into what I read as genuine servitude. A shiver ran up my spine, and I arched my eyebrow at the odd choice of pronoun.\n\n\"We?\" I hedged, unsure of how to react in a situation like this. I mean...I hadn't had a ton of experience with this kind of thing. Ok, hell, I'm going to guess no one had.\n\nShe raised one hand in a casual flick, and a devastatingly blinding series of lights instantly sprung to life. It was agony, physical pain. The human eye is not meant to adjust like that, and it dropped me to my knees as fast as a solid blow to the stomach might have.\n\n I slowly opened one eye...then the other, the perfect floor now revealed as white steel, intricately formed and sealed to a perfectly smooth surface. My head rose next, taking stock of...whatever, Lily I guess in the white light bathing the room. She quirked her head to the opposite side mechanically, and smiled softly, pink lips curling up at the sides.\n\nMy gaze on her did not linger long, because it was drawn to the rest of the monstrous cavern. \"Ho...lee...fuck...\" my whisper wasn't booming this time, it barely escaped my lips as I searched the room with my eyes, desperately drinking in the sight. The size of the room would have been impressive, I could have started a small city in here. But it was already occupied.\n\nThe huge array of mechanical beings that existed, silently sleeping for centuries was as varied as it was old. Each seemed to be built with a slightly different purpose, some outfitted with simple mechanisms, a hoe, a hose, a plow...but others were holding something altogether more menacing. An old sword, a multi-barrel gun, strapped together with huge steel bars, something...altogether alien and deadly that I can't describe other than to say it looked like it was designed to shoot something...BIG.\n\nI watched the steel beings slumber, heart racing...possibilities flooding my head. What were they built for...what could they accomplish...were any other than Lily functional? What...what would I do if...\n\nHer big blue eyes didn't seem so terrifying in this light, her little smile actually soothing in comparison with her fellows hibernating down here in the depths of the Earth. She looked at me with an almost human compassion, and it lifted my spirits, I'll admit. And when she spoke again...they practically soared. \n\n\"How may we serve you?\"\n\n(TL:DR - That thing in the title happens.)", "Moses was on Drill Team B. He wasn’t fond of his name. His dad was a big on the Bible, all his siblings were named after the big figures. Even his little sister, though Moses didn’t think Noah was much of a name for a girl. But with the Second Ice Age encircling the globe, people had turned back to the old religions hoping for a miracle.\n\nSo here he was, not leading people to freedom ,but helping to further dig them into the rocky prison that was the Earth’s crust. The machine he worked on rattling and groaning its way slowly deeper, digging habitation tunnels mankind could survive the Big Freeze in.\n\nStupid environmentalists and their orbit platforms, slowly weatherforming the world, trying to undo the effects of 200 years of industrial revolution. Only the smartasses weren’t as clever as they thought, and their sentient machines had the Ice age set as the ideal state for the world. Stupid technological junk. Stupid drilling machine. Stupid Humanity.\n\nMoses was jerked from his vengeful thinking by the overseer. “Hey Mo, we’ve just drilled through a cavern wall, didn’t show up on the scan, want to grab a torch and take a look? Take the mineral sampler with you, see if there’s anything useful”. “Sure thing Carla” he replied. Man, it wasn’t all bad being locked up it a steel tube when that girl was locked in with you. \n\nHe suited up and jumped out through the airlock. Drill lines weren’t pressurised till the habitation team caught up, and they were some 5 klicks back up the tunnel.\n\n“Watcha see Mo?” came over the radio. “I’ve got some readings of some sort of deposit, very concentrated iron deposits though, almost looks like steel, but we’re 10 klicks under Texas so it can’t be radioactive waste again”.\nMo swung the torch beam round. Sure enough, caught in the beam on the other side of the cavern was a lump of dull grey rock. With some sparkly bits in it, reflecting blue and yellow lights back at him. Must be some mineral deposits. He ambled over for a closer look. It was a very smooth rock, very angled as well. He brushed his hand over the blue mineral deposit. \n\nThe rock shuddered. Mo stumbled back. A light suddenly grew behind the deposit he’d touched, becoming brighter, turning a light sky blue. Mo had no idea why he’d though of that old photo now.\nThe rock shuddered again, and slowly unfolded, turning into a bi-pedal 2m tall machine. \n\n“Pan Human. Sol sublclass. Acceptable parameters. You have awakened me. What is your command?” \n“Command?” stuttered Mo, “what are you?”\n“We are type 2 agriculture and terraforming machines. What is your command?”\n“What did you say you are….?”\n“We are Agriculture and Terraform machines. You may refer to us as ‘Legion’ “.\n" ]	2
This is aimed more toward Tabletop games, but responses using multiplayer video games can work too. Game mechanics don't matter so much, though the rule of thumb, as I understand it, is that rolling 20 is "good" and rolling 1 is "catastrophic."	[WP] A group of veteran gamers share "war stories" of past campaigns with a youngster, who isn't sure if they're being serious.	[ "The lot of us sat at the table in the corner when the newcomers showed up, our stale half finished beers covering the table as we spoke. As they sat down they were utterly flabbergasted at the things they were hearing.\n\"You killed an elder frost Wyrm at first level? How in the hell?\" Questioned Jeff, in an aggravated tone.\n\n\"Ah yes, it was a Sunday afternoon, my dwarf whose name escapes me had stumbled upon the den of a sleeping frost Wyrm, wheni had had a lovely idea. But first there was the heist.\" Connor attempted to complete the tale but as he began to take a swig of his brew James interjected.\n\n\"Oh yes, the alchemy shop robbery, nearly killed the entire city if i recall correctly. You see, in all our infinite wisdom we had decided to have connor and Myself use pickaxes and hammers and smash through the wall at nightfall, now of course when we did get through the alchemist was quite suprised! Now unfortunately we had struck an urn filled with oil of impact. Luckily only the completely filled shop of valuable potions was hurt. With his hammer ruined Connor grappled the alchemist and began to roll around in potions. An-\" \n\n\"Bullshit!\" Joel the second newcomer shouted, pulling a strange gaze from the taverns other patrons.\n\n\n\n\n\"Now now, let them complete the tale of wonder.\" As the words escaped my lips my authority as the Dungeon Master had affected them even here.\n\n\nConnor took the moment to resume the tale, \"And then we eventually clubbed him unconcious and force fed him a potion of polymorph, while he transformed we stole a barrel of ooil of impact put it in our cart and walked away. The shopkeep was an ogre though, and the town had a lot of fires that day, but its probably unrelated anyways. Then we wheeled the barrel out and executed our plan. We waited until the beast slept Jim pried the creatures mouth open and i hurled the barrel down its throat, we each grabbed half the beast maw and held tight, then we heard a boom, and dragon guts EVERYWHERE, we split the xp and loot and went back to save the city from riots caused by an ogre and then we were heros!\" Connors voice trailed off before taking a deep breath to account for his lack of pauses.\n\nJim put down his drink and whispered to the newcomers, \"And that was how we became the heros of etinmoor and why pegleg the one eyed ogre is the castle alchemist.\"\n\nBoth newcomers in glorious wonder said with timid excitement, \"How do we play?\"\n\nI looked at them both \"Well it all starts with some dice...\"\n" ]	1

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