Split (1)

train · 199k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
	[WP] You're a bellhop carrying a guests bags. You see part of their case is undone and inside you see a small child.	[ "I try to hold back a gasp as I look at the young baby. She looks right back at me with her shimmering black eyes.\n\n\"Googoo, gaga?\" the girl squeals to me.\n\n\"Lady Gaga?\" I ask, confused. \n\n\"Nwo nwo, meh mommyo?\" \n\n\"Nonsense,\" I reply. I wave it off. \n\nBut what is a little kid doing inside of a bag? This wasn't making any sense. Then, I notice something in the child's hand. I grab it quickly, wondering what it is. It is a note. It reads Her parents' phone number is 403-892-3956. Call them and ask for $1 million. -K \n\nThis is kidnapping, I realize, they're using this kid to get 1 million dollars!\n\n\"Alistair!\" my annoyed boss calls to me from the front counter, \"get to work already! Room number for that luggage is 204.\"\n\n\"Alright, Mrs. Kohl!\" I yell back. \n\nQuickly, I push the luggage cart to the elevator and get in. I press the button to go to floor 2. As I wait to reach the level, I think about what to do. Should I give the baby to the guest? That would be ruining this kid's life! I shake my head at the thought. I can't do that. Finally, I think of an idea. It seems stupid but it can work. I'll take the baby out of the bag, put her in the elevator, and give the kidnapper an empty bag. I'll try to cover my face a bit when I get to the room so the kidnapper doesn't remember my face and then, take the kid somewhere safe when I get into the elevator again. Hopefully, the man won't notice that the bag is empty until I leave the room to escape. Great plan, Alistair, I think to myself, hopefully it won't backfire...\n\nI take the child out of the bag and place her onto the elevator ground. Surely, she can survive this even if I sacrifice. I pull my bellhop hat lower to cover of my face. Before I can say goodbye, the elevator doors creak open. I race out and pull the luggage cart with me, watching the doors close again. I wave farewell and run to room 204. Knocking on the door, I feel a tingle up my spine. The door opens. Nervous, I walk inside. The door shuts behind me. \n\n\"H-huh?\" I stutter, shocked. \n\nI look around the room. It is dark and shady, with the blinds closed. I search the surroundings for the guest. My eyes land upon a tall slender male, a hat casting a shadow on his face. \n\n\"Uh, sir?\" I ask. Maybe he is sleeping.\n\n\"Have you brought the luggage?\" the man asks in a deep voice, \"it contains some important contents.\"\n\n\"Y-yes, sir,\" I answer, gesturing to the luggage cart.\n\n\"Great, thank you.\" \n\nMy hands shaking, I remove the luggage from the cart and place it on the ground.\n\n\"Is there anything else I can do for you?\" I ask, my voice cracking. \n\n\"No,\" the man replies, \"thank you for bringing my luggage.\"\n\nI bow down a bit and notice him slowly unzip the bag which had contained the child. Shuffling my feet, I reach for the door. I twist the knob and stroll out, closing the door behind me. \n\n\"Hey! I'm missing something in my luggage!\" the man's voice echoes through the hall. \n\nI make a dash for it, sprinting to the elevator. I spam the key to go down. Then, I turn around, meeting the face of the kidnapper. In his hand, he holds a gun. \n\n\"Ahh!\" my voice squeaks, scared to death. \n\nA smirk spreads across his face. \"Imma blast you to hell, little boy!\" he shouts.\n\n\"No!\" I try to protest. At least the girl is still safe...\n\n\"Too late,\" the man yells at me, grinning.\n\nThe last thing I see is the man pulling the gun trigger.\n", "The woman draped in mink and fox stares at Eric with the same look a maid gives to a mildew crusted toilet bowl; simply something to be dealt with. \"You there, boy!\" He wanted to make a quip, but \"The Customer isn't always right, they just fucking own you,\" was the managers motto, and Eric had already lost three jobs this year. She graciously extended a $5 bill, \"Oh Joy,\" he thought to himself.\n\nFive measly dollars, for a stack of luggage, including a massive trunk. \"I'll get right on that, madame.\" He drew out the end of the word, treating the bitch like a duchess would get her out of his hair faster. \"Will a gentleman be joining you soon Madame?\" With a huff and a sling of the fox, she glared daggers at Eric \"There IS NO Gentlemen. All of those have been dead for many a year!\" and stomped off in heels worth more than his apartment. \n\n\"Who the fuck talks like that nowadays?\" Eric thought as he began loading the luggage onto the trolley, to head up to the room. \"This woman must be an International Brick Smuggler,\" he laughed to himself, her cases, especially the trunk, were just too heavy to be believed. \"Who could use all this shit for a simple overnight stay?\" \n\nThe elevator was ancient, older than Eric's Great Great Grandmother, and that's saying something. This hotel was a staple for foreign dignitaries, nobility, hell, even movie stars... 50 years ago. It fell out of vogue a long time before Eric was even born. The velvet draping the walls still had the stale smell of cigarette and cigar smoke the Roaring 20's seemed to leave everywhere, the paintings, tacky and dated, starting to peel. The soft yellow lights they chose did nothing for the decor to say the least, but it paid for his food, apartment, and hobbies, so Eric didn't care; He had everything he needed. Each night, he would leave the shell of former grandeur to his dark little hovel (What he thought was at least comfortable and warm when he wore a blanket over his shoulders) without a care in the world, until 9:15 the next day.\n\nThe trolley had been Eric's best friend, it had never let him down before. When that French dame wanted the fountain carted up to her room for her poodles (Spoiled bastards), there was no issue. When that body builder decided to stay there for a month while he was in town for the competition (He made fun of Eric's weedy stature daily) he tossed all of his crap on it without a single weight coming off.\n\nThat was until the front left wheel snapped off and the luggage went tumbling. Children's clothes flew out everywhere; Lace, frilly dresses, velvet, blacks, reds, purples, greens, pearls and rubies everywhere, was strewn about the not quite molding carpet. Eric panicked. He started thrusting anything he could back into boxes and trunks as fast as he could. That's when he noticed... A corner of the large locked trunk was rent open. A little girl stared at him, with violence in her eyes and hatred in her heart. Eric panicked. He was even more afraid when she reached her little hands out of the fissure, and tore the container asunder. With fantastic speed, she rushed within inches of his face, ember eyes burning like smoldering coals, looking to extinguish the very humanity within him, and quell any desire he had at surviving. He knew this creature could snuff the life out of him in a breath. He started hyperventilating, and the world went black.\n\nWhen he woke up, he was cold, and Eric missed his terrible little home dearly. \n\nThe girl paced around the foot of the bed, the aged mahogany poorly taken care of, \"Well poo,\" she swore aloud, making the cute little phrase that much more terrifying, like telling a chicken you have to eat him for dinner. \"I was really hoping you'd be adept enough at your profession to convey me to my lodgings, but alas, it seems you're a fool.\" The pale little girl, no older than 10, looked down upon him in judgement, her position unmistakable. She was contemplating a verdict. \n\nHer deliberations were interrupted by the haughty duchess slamming the door, her furs ruffled, and her hair flying this way and that. \"Those morons! They simply cannot do anything right!\" she howled to the heavens, the girl was on her in the blink of an eye, hand round her throat, and forcing her to the ground. The other tiny hand, holding up a single fragile digit to her lips, \"Shhh.\" she hissed at the woman, the sound like a million furious librarians suddenly running out of breath. \"I am trying to decide. Now go to your home.\" The woman's eyes went blank, she stood up and disrobed. Eric averted his gaze, being bashful was always a pain in the ass, as the naked woman strode with purpose to the closet and locked herself inside.\n\n\"So,\" the girl turned back to the unlucky bellhop, \"I'm sure you have a few guesses what's going on here... You can either regale me with tales of this new age... I've been asleep for quite a while, since 1946 in fact. Or...\" She gave him a darling smile that would haunt his dreams for the rest of what little life he had left: \"You could join me for dinner.\"", "“Let me carry you bags up for you ma'am.”\n\n“Thanks”\n\nI lift the bag up and it feels awkward. What does she have in here? I take the elevator up to the lady’s floor. She follows behind me as I guide her to her room. As i go to position the bag in my arm to open the door. I notice the zipper is cracked open. Looking past the zipper I see the a small eye peering back at me. Startled I drop the bag.\n\n“Oww!” a small boys voice rings out.\n\nThe lady jumps back with a start.”Johnny is that you? Get out of that bag this instance.”\n\nThe boy reluctantly unzips the bag and jumps out. “I wanted to go on vacation with you mom.”\n\n“I told you this is not a vacation I’m here for work.” She looks in the bag. “What did you do with my clothes?”\n\n\"I took them out so i could fit.” the boy replies.\n\nAt this point the lady goes off. I’m standing there listening to her berate what I can only assume is her son in the hallway. I wanted to leave but didn’t get a tip yet, so I try to wait it out. The boy begins to argue back with his mom. “Just buy more clothes.” They continue on and on. It gets to the point that people are beginning to peer into the hallway. Way to embarrassed for them I decided to forego the tip on this one and bounce.\n\nWhy are people crazy.", "She has big, blue, mischievous eyes and dark, short cut hair. I see her peering from the inside of a leather garment bag hanging from the luggage cart. \n\nWhat's she doing in there, I wonder? The man I'm helping seems oblivious. Is she a stowaway? Is he trying to save on his room? Is this some kind of sick fantasy they're. Playing out? \n\nShe couldn't be more than 7 or 8. I should keep an eye out on this guy's room. My shift ends in ten minutes, so that shouldn't be hard. Betty at the front desk owes me a giant favor. I may or may not have taken the rap for her in regards to a half-smoked joint found by the manager, Mr Tuttle. Maybe I can get her to give me a key card for the adjoining room. \n\nLuck was with me. Betty came through. With my ear pressed against the glass against the adjoining door I can hear the man singing what sounds like opera music. It sounds strangely uplifting. I need to know more. \n\nI brought over an old hand drill from maintenance. Luckily it has a small enough bit that I think I can get away with this. Slowly I'll drill into the wall high enough that I can see the entire room. \n\nOh Fuck!! There's an eye staring back from the hole!! \n\nHe must have hung the bag on the wall hook. There's no way that little girl is tall enough to be up here. I know it's her because she says hello. \n\n\"Are you OK?,\" I ask. \n\n\"Want to play a game?\", is the response I receive. She's whispering. What an odd thing to say when you're a little girl hanging from a hook. ", "You wouldn't think that the crummiest hotel in the worst part of town would be booming, but we do, in no small part due to crime. The hotel I work at, the old Breezy Hotel, has millions pass from one another in shady deals every week. Now, probably only a few thousands actually passed through our doors; mostly we gave neutral ground for negotiations. Hotter stuff got sent off to shadier places.\n\nNow, imagine my surprise when my boss hands me 2k just to handle a deal going down in our nice, decrepit conference room. We never get personally involved, but I'm pretty suspicious that the silver briefcase may have changed my boss' mind. As for me, money was money and I was running low on beer. I gave my manager a hundred to keep off my back til' night. Going into a hot situation while sleep deprived was a bad idea, tho I also just wanted to kick back.\n\nI woke almost exactly half an hour before showtime; you learn to have precise naps very quickly when there's always trouble around. I check my dusty uniform, years old, then my grungy face, ugly as ever, then head to the front.\n\nI keep an impassive face as large, buff men stroll past me, but inside I'm screaming at myself. At a glance, they look like the regular local muscle, but the efficient, quick pace and impeccable uniforms are a far cry from the usual lumbering muscle-brains that usual visit our fine establishment. Two thousand to mess with these guys? What an idiot.\n\nA few minutes later, a large bag is handed to me. Not thrown, like the usual bags, but handed gently to me. A quiet command is given for me not to move my hands. I have an urge to twist my hair, my usual stress reliever, but instead I stay stock still. The men talk with each other and perhaps a few of them leave and return, but I'm too out of it to hear anything.\n\nAfter what feels like hours, I'm given another set of commands. Go to the room, place the bag, then wait. My arms are aching, so I gladly comply.\n\nI quicken my pace when I'm out of view of the men. No way was I going to be near them longer than necessary. I rest the bag on the desk then wait. And wait. And wait.\n\nI check the clock; it had actually been two hours. I glance over at the bag and... did it always look like that? I look around, but nothing else had changed. I look back at the bag. The zipper was definitely closed when he had received it.\n\nCarefully, I stood up. Just zip it up, I told myself, just zip it. I reached out and grabbed the zipper.\n\nHelp me.\n\nI zipped the bag shut. I never looked inside. I hadn't seen anything. I could say that truthfully. 2k, I thought, 2k for this.\n\nI don't remember what came after.\n\nWhen I came to, I was standing outside my home. I had just short of two thousand and a memory of a bag.\n\nA normal day, I decided. Today was a normal day.", "The child looks back, dark eyes flashing no sign of anything amiss, though you know better.\n'They tip you for anything around here, don't they?'\nYou look up to the exceedingly tall stranger, an outstretched fist with some scraggly $1 notes pushed almost into your nose, and you are reminded of a puppy being fed by the cruel master, so hopeful of food, yet so hating of the hand that gave it. \n\nThat was the turning point that made you decide to go back up to the room, to burst into the room with an ill practised room service ruse. The boss was far too narrow minded to do her own detective work, so he would have to do it. \nHe put his mind to the future task of fooling the rooms' inhabitants, but before he knew it, he was facing room 206. He steeled himself.\nknock knock, door swings open\n'Hi, room service, how can I help?'\nIn the silence that followed his rhetorical opening, he scans the room, resisting the urge to cringe at what he just said, looking for the child. No sign.\n'Uhh, we didn't order room service? And you're the bellhop?' \n'Right right. Well... we try and divide the jobs so no-one gets too jealous... I see that you do not require room service and I will be on my way now, thankyou very much!'\n\nNo kid.\n\nBut as the door swings shut, you hear that unmistakeable squeal of a child. You glance a small object hurtling through the air through the last crack of door, it looks like they wrapped the object in clothes.\n\nThat is when you decide to get out of there. Tell the manager, just to get safe from 206. As you reach the stairs, the door opens again, and he comes out. Turns his nose up at you and calls the lift. You know he is going to the manager as well to conceal his lies and get you out of the picture, you've seen his type before, \nYou know how fast the lift is, so as soon as the fire door shuts behind you it's four steps at a time. \n\nSimultaneous would have been an understatement. If him and you were bullets, you would have sounded like one single shot. He sees you, and we're off! High slot machines cut off most of the view. He had the longer legs, but you know where everything is. \nThat advantage doesn't help when this guy has speed that would put Kenyans to shame. He has spotted you from down the hallway after 5 furious hide and seek minutes, and you can see it in his eyes now. The time to kill has come. No more games, just man, kill, girl.\nThe girl\nThe room\nYou need that manager just as he appears. \nYou sprint off one last time, as the chase is initiated one last time. This is it, once you reach the manager, then so does he, and then all the hell of shitstorms is going to break loose times two.\n\n'THEY WERE GONNA KILL ME'\n'YOUR FAMILY ROOMS ARE TOO EXPENSIVE OK!.. WHAT?'\n\nHis mad eyes are on you again, incredulous. 'Kill you?!'\n\nHindsight is always 20/20.\n\nYou laugh to yourself as you look through the blinds, they are pretty blinds, your urge to play with things like that is restrained behind the heavy jacket they always make you wear. It isn't very pretty.\n\n" ]	6
	[WP] After helping to put out a house fire that killed a family of 4, you see the lone survivor. An elderly man with scorched clothes stares at the charred remains of the home, clutching a small box tightly and close to his chest.	[ "For as long as I can remember I dreamed of being a firefighter. But then again, doesn’t every little boy at some point? “Why a firefighter?” My parents would ask, and my answers varied depending on age. “They are strong. Brave. Heroic. Helping people.” While the reasons may have changed, the end goal did not. I wanted to become a firefighter and so I did.\n\n\nAfter high school most of my friends went to the traditional 4 year university, I stayed at home and went to the local fire academy. I won’t say it was easy, because it wasn’t, but the blood sweat and tears definitely paid off. After a few years of studying I had achieved my dream, I was a firefighter.\n\n\nI grew up in a large city, and while fires did happen they were rare. On my first few days of the job one of the older paramedics looked at me and laughed. “Son” he told me. “If fighting fires was your dream you’re better off going to a dry place like California. We don’t’ see too many fires here. No, son, we mostly respond to emergent calls and accidents.” I hate to admit, he wasn’t wrong. \n\n\n\nSeveral years passed and the job had become routine, I hadn’t seen any fires as the old man had predicted, but nothing lasts forever. It happened in the dead of night, like most terrible things do. The alarm came out a little past 3. House fire, uncontrolled. The neighbors had called it in, dispatch mentioned a family lived inside. \n\n\nThe engine crew raced to get into our turnouts, our captain giving orders as we tore down the empty city streets. At the scene our adrenaline had kicked in and none of us had time to think. We had trained for this, and our instincts kicked in. The house or what was left of it was all in flames. I couldn’t help think to myself that there was no way anybody could still be inside. \n\n\nWe battled the flames for hours, and eventually the flames flickered out. What was once a house, now a charred shell of its former self. The engine crew was exhausted, and we all sat down, defeated. For all our heroic efforts the family of four inside had perished. I was staring at the blackened patch when I saw him, a survivor . “Guys! Guys! We have a survivor!” I shouted as I stood up and started to run to him. “Sir!” I yelled trying to get his attention.\n\n\nHe was an elderly man, his skin and hair singed by the flames. His clothes were in tatters, but for all my shouting her ignored me. “Sir, are you alright?” I asked, worried because he was clutching at his chest. The old man turned to me and he smiled\n\n\n“Sir, are you alright?” I asked with less enthusiasm than before. The hairs on the back of my neck started to crawl. I had the sudden urge to vomit. The old man turned and looked at me with eyes like molten silver. He spoke not a single word, but unlatched the box that he had held to his chest. As I watched him do this, I felt like I had walked into an ice cold freezer.\n\n\nThe man clasped the box shut and turned to wink at me, “I am quite alright, son. Just here to collect these souls for hell.” \n\n\n\n", "He stood there stoically. I looked at him, and his gaze slowly locked onto me. I cautiously approached him; his mumbling was unnerving.\n\nHis clothing, though scorched, had once been of great stature. Even through the burn marks and shreds, the Giorgio Armani suit was distinctive. His golden tie with the red stripes loosened, but otherwise unharmed.\n\n\"I'm sorry for your loss,\" I begin, unsure what exactly I can tell this man to reassure him that all is not lost. \"This...this is a tragedy, and I really don't know what to say. What happened?\"\n\nThe strange man stared at me for eternity. His lips parted and his countenance became menacing. I noticed the yellow cardboard box clutched tightly within his arms. He showed it to me.\n\n\"I warned them. I warned them every day, but in the end they would not listen. They would not leggo my Eggo!\"" ]	2
	[WP] Only musicians are born with emotions, and can distribute them temporarily for the duration of the song they play.	[ "The Great Day, video recording:\n\nThe recording buzzes in on a newscaster.\n\n\"Hello, people of Greensboro. Millions clamor today to squeeze a spot into the Grand Musical Distribution Center. A world-renowned composer will be playing. He will be starting soon.\n\n\"I will not attend today, and if you are watching this broadcast, neither shall you. I lacked the necessary funds, and by rule of likelihood, you did as well. Perhaps in the future we will all acquire a glimpse of feeling.\n\n\"The performance shall be starting right... now. This news report is now finished. Goodbye, citizens of Greens...\n\n\"Citizens of Greensboro. Y-Yes, goodbye. Perhaps in the future we will all acquire a glimpse of feeling--cough. What? What?\n\n\"Citizens of Greensboro, please, do not turn off your televisions. I... Holy shit, I can feel. People, do not turn-- Claire, Claire, can you, too? I don't hear any music. Do you? No?\n\n\"We aren't hearing any music over here at Channel XXI. But we can feel. Citizens, if you are feeling any sort of emotion at all, please, call our news station number: (NUMBER OMITTED). Call it if you feel anything.\n\nRing. Ring. Ring.\n\n\"Oh, the phones are flying off the hook! Can-- can everyone feel? Everybody?\n\n\"What? Josh, what did you say? I can't hear you over the ringing. God, I can't even see you. I think I'm crying. Is this what crying is like? Wait, wait, Josh, tell me, what did you say?\n\n\"... The musician is no longer performing. Yet, I can feel. E-Everyone here at the news station can feel... Can we get somebody live at the Musical Center? My God...\"\n\nThe video fades to static for a moment. It returns to a reporter standing outside the Musical Distribution Center.\n\n\"Y-Yes, thank you, Matt. We all still have emotions over here. None of us have a clue what is happening. The musician-- the musician just disappeared after his performance. He went offstage, and now nobody can find him.\n\n\"Matt, Matt. I-I think this is the greatest thing to ever happen. We can all feel. Everybody in Greensboro can, I know it. People are outside their houses, cheering, crying, screaming, what-have-you. God.\n\n\"Run a check, somebody look up another town's news station number and call them... Something has happened... I can't believe...\"\n\nThe recording cuts to black.", "The world was abuzz with the news: Gypsy Rose was going to be doing her final gig and then retire from music forever. Or so the rumors went.\n\nPeople were not excited. No, they couldn't be excited. Or sad. Or happy. It was through music that emotions were delivered these days. At some point, emotions were ruled something only specialized groups needed, and they mostly had faded away, choosing to have children with people who had no emotions. That was their choice.\n\nThe woman known as Gypsy Rose was an enigma. She appeared on the musical scene as part of a band, the Gypsy Bouquet. They were a group of five stunningly beautiful men and women, each able to sing and play an instrument. The other Gypsy Flowers had, to the best of common knowledge, left the music scene. And nobody particularly cared. Caring would require emotions that they had been so lucky to be freed from.\n\nThere had been questions arising on the internet as to the exclusivity of the event. It was free, but when registering, if you were a known musician you were not allowed to attend. Again, the lack of emotion made few care save the musicians who were refused access, to which the Gypsy Rose answered simply, \"I want the attention on me on my last show, and I don't want any musicians trying to sing along.\"\n\nGypsy Rose was known for her theatrics, her dancing, her fiddle-playing, and her voice. Her voice was best known, though when she would take out her fiddle and start to play, the crowd couldn't help but dance along.\n\nCameras rolling.\n\nThe stadium's lights were out.\n\nA loud BOOM, followed by a red rose appearing in the sky; a firework. The crowd looked up, the background music playing allowing them to gasp in awe. Their attention returned to the stage, and there was Gypsy Rose, the light focused on her.\n\nShe went through each of her hit songs, belting them out with such loudness and intensity that the effects were felt for several moments afterward. Tears of joy and laughter filled the stadium, two hundred fifty thousand people enjoying themselves.\n\nA smile curved her lips as she announced, \"I have a special surprise for everyone tonight, the last song of the evening!\" The crowd cheered in anticipation, basically bouncing. The stage next to her rose, revealing her violin, Thorn. As she began to play, the crowd silenced, listening, enraptured by the new melody. A cage began to be lowered down onto her. Suddenly, she began to sing along with the violin.\n\nYou took us,\n\nThe cage lowered down to the ground with a soft clink.\n\nYou enslaved us,\n\nThe crowd murmured, feeling anger they had never felt rise up within them coming forth.\n\nYou *bred* us...\n\nSomeone in the crowd cried out, \"WHO!\" Echoes came forth of \"NAME THEM!\" \"WHO DID IT!\"\n\nAnd now... it's time... for...\n\nThe lights all went out, the violin playing stopped, and Gypsy Rose's voice wailed a single word:\n\n*Revenge!\n\nRough, unfamiliar music began to play in the background. The crowd got pumped at the sound of the heavy drums and guitar, throwing their heads. As it creeped in, people asked each other if that might have been Gypsy Crocus playing. Their initial excitement and confusion was tuned by the music to anger and hatred none had ever felt in their lives. The lights turned on.\n\nIn the cage was no longer Gypsy Rose, but a rotund man, in chains. A middle-aged man, balding, with a bionic eye. \"Please,\" he begged. \"Please don't do this to me.\" He shifted around, barefoot, in his torn, dirtied clothing: a business suit that had seen far better days.\n\nAttention was quickly drawn away from the man as a holo appeared of the four other members of the Gypsy Bouquet, with Gypsy Crocus on the guitar, the other three Gypsy Flowers clapping, in their festive getups.\n\nPeople cheered. Gypsy Rose grinned and simply responded, \"I'd hate to deny a crowd what it so clearly wants, Vadim.\" With that, Gypsy Rose resumed playing her violin once more. Hatred the crowd couldn't place fueled them to cheer on Gypsy Rose as she played her tune, facing the man known as Vadim. He struggled in his chains, trying to move away, but he began to move his feet. \"Come on, Vadim, dance! You wouldn't want to disappoint all these good people!\"\n\nThe cage lifted, and the man known as Vadim began to dance. His chains clink-clanked with each movement, and he danced after Gypsy Rose, who began to dance around the stage, facing him as she played her violin. The clapping got louder, and the crowd joined in. The man began to sob as he danced, feet turning pink, and then red. He begged, \"Gypsy Rose! Please! Gypsy Rose, I'm sorry! I'm sorry for what I did to you and to your family!\"\n\nShe spoke, though it did not interrupt the furious rage the crowd was in nor the violin she played, \"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you bred my people for generations like dogs to make the perfect musicians. Before you took my son from me when I was just a child, you filth.\"\n\nFor hours, she played. For hours, the crowd continued in their reverie, drunk on the madness of her music. The man began to slow, unable to keep up. His feet were bleeding, and his blood had tracked across the stage in a circle. He finally came to a stop and fell, dead. She played a sharp note on her violin, and the holo responded and the music along with it to give a final few slams of the drum, before the crowd cheered wildly, screaming in joy.\n\nIt wasn't until the next day that the criminal cloning and eugenics program run by the late Vadim Vorobyov hit the news, the cyborg who was just human enough to dance himself to death. Children were found en masse, all looking nearly identical, of varying ages. Not all those uncovered were found. Music played during the videos for this news, telling people they should be disgusted. Similar music played during the video explaining that Gypsy Rose had compelled a man to dance to his death, that they should be disgusted.\n\nAnd for a time, people were disgusted. But then they returned to the monotony of life. Gypsy Rose?... it's impossible to say where she went after that. The world outside of the big cities was nearly uninhabitable, and chances were she died. Despite this, to this very day, whispers on the wind speak of a chance that the Gypsy Bouquet had survived and squirreled off to parts unknown, and with them, Gypsy Rose's son.", "You want to feel what is real. \nYou want to feel what I feel. \nPlease, take them away from me. \nI don't need them anymore. \n\nI've always hated Ferris wheel rides. \nThe pain they make me feel inside, \nmy stomach turns, I cry at night. \nI'd rather be dull then this alive. \n\nCan you believe you asked for this! \nCan you feel your world spin? \nIs this the freedom you were looking for? \nAre you sure you're ready for some more? \n\nI can tell you it's not always this scary. \nDays will be dreary, they will make you weary. \nBut through the navy pillows you will see yellow. \nThe sun will bring you to a bellow. \n\nA day will come, you'll meet someone. \nYou'll get sweaty palms even though it's December. \nShe'll make you feel the thing that's real. \nThe feeling you've read about but could never feel. \nThis is why I continue playing. \n\nMary loves you and you love her. \nMarry her, your heart belongs to her. \nThis is what we're fighting for. \n\nGood, now that's an F chord. \n\n \n edit:format", "When only musicians have emotions, we all became musicians.\n\nIt was late, and I clapped out a beat and sang along with the group I'd just met.\n\n\"Hey Jude\" we sang.\n\n\"Mama, just killed a man...\"\n\n\"I live for the night.\"\n\nWe hit the high notes, and the low. We had few instruments, we made it work.\n\nAs one group finished the next group took over. And finally, it was my group's turn to center on the dilapidated block at 2am and pound out a song and dance on the worn street, in clothes that no way matched the song.\n\nAnd I finished. I had a small group, me, and Jakes, and Sal. But we harmonized beautifully.\n\nI slid to the side as the next group took over.\n\nI cried a little as it approached 4am, and looked up at the billboard advertising my next show.\n\nI snuck down here often. I had no idea if any of the other young people noticed or even cared that I was one of the chart-topping masses that churned out mindless pop music that was the emotional equivalent of fast food. Two songs and you're hungry again in an hour. \n\nSal noticed my tears and took my hand in his.\n\n\"I only wish this night could last forever.\" He half-sung, half said, much like Carmen. It was how we had adapted to speak to each other, so emotions could be felt in the words we spoke. Beat poetry also kept us going in places where this new speech was frowned upon.\n\n\"I live for it, you keep me going.\" I said back. We kissed, and the others were spiralling down for the night.\n\nDon't make me say goodbye.\n\nIt's never goodbye, it's hello forever.\n\nI walked back to my apartment, both singing and crying, and I live for the Night that we feast upon our true selves in song.", "Melissa took a shuddering breath and began to play. \nI braced my self to the inevitable panic I was about to experience through her playing.\n\nBut no, this time was different. I felt confidence flow through my veins. Emotionless started falling away from the audience. They leapt up, jumped, clapped, stamped their feet, sweeping others up in the joy. Some surely hadn't felt this in years.\n\nThe music flowed on and on, joy and happiness spilling from Melissa's aged violin. I felt my love for Melissa once again. Bittersweet, I could only feel love when she was playing.\n\nI became startled at the edge of pain I was experiencing. Poor Melissa. I signalled to her, showing that she was ready to stop. As the notes dwindled away, I tried my hardest to show her I cared. As the music drew to an end, I couldn't see any reason to try.\n\nMelissa hurried off stage and wrapped me in hug, which would probably have been welcome a few minutes ago. I took her blistered hand, uncomprehending as to why she would hurt herself trying to hurt others.", "\"This one is a Musician.\" The placid observation clipped through the air like gentle shears, amongst the noise of shuffled papers and the clicking of the background computer. The Musician's mother blinked, not startled; neither joyed or dismayed by the otherwise startling news. \n\nWhen the Catharsis - the fall of humanity? The resolution for world peace?* - had begun, the Musician would have been hailed as a savior. But with the Catharsis having overtaken nearly the entire world, there was no reason to be emotionally moved - nor emotional at all. Humans were sustained no longer by the autonomous duties of their amygdala and endocrine responses. Or more poetically, no longer slaves to the whim of their emotions; tempestuous rage, heart-aching sorrow, and buoyant joy were muted; expressions of surprise and disgust and fear were smoothed from all facial muscles. Without impulse there was calm. The catalyst of the Catharsis had been, after all, just another neurotoxin engineered to placate the irritated and ever-needy masses. But it had gone all so wrongly, or perhaps rightly (For who could judge?); mass-distribution rendered humanity as emotionless as the earth. There were \"moods,\" yes, enduring states of placid calm, placid content, placid dissatisfaction; unchanging and without need or impetus to change. And for the rare, chemical imbalance in which a mood slid from dissatisfaction to sorrow, there was a quick fix. Ah, necessity had become the goal and basis for all interaction, and there was always an unsaid uncertainty about the necessity of Music. For Music held the key for unleashing emotion exuberantly for the duration of resonance. \n\nAnd so the Musicians were certainly a rare statistic, anomalies born with an inexplicable immunity to the neurotoxin; born to grace the otherwise-silent world with their presence: loud or soft, raucous or melodious, carried by their own voice or the spine of an instrument they were guaranteed to discover. Their lives would often be anachronistically short (another anomaly to a human race blessed by engineering for longevity), but long enough to bring about waves of color and sound to the barren world. What they could offer was a reprieve to the Catharsis, and no one could logically explain why.\n\nInexplicably too, the rest of humanity would uncuriously but predictably come to listen, as if the often-haphazardly put-together, and impromptu concerts, were scheduled in their organized work lives. As natural as making time to eat or sleep, but with the urgency of any reason for hospitalization - if a local Musician (boldly or shyly) proclaimed that they would play, the crowds would come. Inordinately, their steps picking up with a little, inexplicable speed as they gathered to hear; their breaths resounding and their chests rising and falling more quickly. Pupils dilated and color gathering to cheeks. But no one would notice or vocalize these extraordinary signs in one another, for the music - the sounds of emotion - would soon come forth, and there should be silence and rapt attention to honor it. \n \nThe experience - transformative, ephemeral, beautiful, riveting, raw - would yield an outburst of vitality in the listeners. Tears would pour, laughter would ring out, disgust and anger would jostle momentarily with the surrounding festivities; applause and dancing would move otherwise-languid limbs. Intense moments of human bonding would occur in this outpour of hormones and neurotransmiters - adrenaline, dopamine, serotonin, and even more complex - oxytocin - would glitter behind wild and wet eyes, expressed in the flash of teeth and arch of eyebrows, raised hands and irrepressible feet. \n\nHours pass from the concert's beginning until the Musician is exhausted of their talent, physically and emotionally, for they have given (no listener could deny) their all. But moments later, no one in the crowd would be able to empathize or even guess at the emotional thoughts of that lone, statistical anomaly standing on the battered stage. Mild confusion would be quickly eliminated by the return of the Calm, just as expected, just as normal. Tears would be gingerly wiped away, hair arranged, dirt brushed off of clothing. They would applaud, to be polite, for they supposed that the Musician had performed a public service. And so they would return home, to their ordinary and ordered lives - to silence and serenity.\n\nBut many Musicians would often illogically remain on stage after the crowds had dispersed, knees threatening to give out. Who could say what emotions warred behind their bleary eyes, what desires stirred in their tired fingers, what hoarse but meaningful whispers could be said from their dry throats? They alone could testify to the enormity of what had just occurred, but their words would instill nothing that their talent could not better explain. How did they ascribe their own experiences? Some Musicians, after hesitance and renewed conviction, wrote peaceful, \"worth it,\" beautiful - to have given humanity what they could of a \"gift.\" Others scrawled, bittersweet, and a few scratched out, lonely or \"I want to die.\" But many, many accounts finished with this: \"I hope they come again.\"\n\nSo when the doctor imparted the phenomenal news and left, the unperturbed mother continued to digest the news and conceive what she could of her newborn daughter's life. Music was something that the mother had unknowingly rendered a necessity, despite not knowing quite why. Perhaps a Musician as a child would not be so bad. She listened to the heartbeat monitor and watched the nutrition feed, calmly registering the reports of good health as good news. \n\nShe sighed; she was tired, as to be expected from the long pregnancy and fruits childbirth, but feeling a little... \"odd.\" Delivery might have contributed though; a quick chemical check-up would fix this unorthodox mood. She closed her heavy eyes and thought forward to meeting her daughter, this Musician. She began to doze. Her fingers began to casually tap to the beat of her daughter's heart. The corners of her lips lifted, just a little.", "I am the oldest man on Earth. This is a recent development, as my close friend Clyde passed away just a few months ago, who was a few years older than me. Now I am the last person on the planet who is not a member of the Dead Generation.\n\nThe Dead kids started being born when I was only 19. I was a musician then as I am now - I have been drumming my entire life. I went to college to study computers, but about halfway through my education, the realization that music was the only way to access the Dead Kids became public knowledge - and not just recorded music, it had to be live. It was the perfect excuse for me to abandon my studies - musicians with skill were now an incredible demand and were even well paid! \n\nIn the beginning, it was incredible. Parents, all members of the Live population, swarmed out to concerts with their children - babies, toddlers, teenagers, and eventually, their fully adult kids. It was the only way to reach them. It was the only way to see their kids smile and cry, the only way they could hear their children say \"I love you\" and know that they meant it.\n\nAnd people did smile and cry. The outpouring of emotions at the shows was overwhelming - hell, I cried at every show, too. It became quickly obvious to me that I needed to expand my performance format to reach more people, larger crowds.\n\nDJing came naturally to me as a drummer. It allowed me to travel more easily, too, without the hassle drumkit. It allowed me to perform to thousands of people simultaneously. \n\nThose few decades were the best part of our lives, we remaining musicians. The flux of emotions at those shows was powerful enough to reduce me to a mess of tears every single time. Imagine ten thousand children feeling happiness and sorrow and excitement - feeling the desire to dance - for the first (or second, or third) time. Imagine their parents beside them, meeting their children for the first time. The demand was insatiable - I played every night of every week, across the globe. I think that is why I have been able to live so long.\n\nOf course, it had to come to an end. The parents all began to die. The Dead kids obviously had no desire of their own to come to shows - without their parents to bring them, they just stayed home. \n\nI suppose maybe new musicians could have been born if any of the Dead kids had been capable of sexual desire. But none of them had the will to procreate - they didn't even have the will to meet others or be romantic. So the population began to dwindle through the years, and the huge, fantastic shows of my youth slowly grew smaller and smaller until only a few elderly Live people would arrive. \n\nIn my late age, I've moved to the piano. It's not because I'm old - its just too heartbreaking for me to hear dance music anymore. The streets are all but empty and quiet. Running into somebody is rare, and when it does happen, it is uneventful, since I am the only man left who can feel emotion. The world is an empty and quiet place now. \n\nI still travel. I'm 124, but I make it happen. I've got an electric piano and a small amp. I travel from city to city, searching for somebody - anybody to play for. It's hard to find people these days - sometimes I'll go weeks without running into anyone. But when I do, it makes everything worth it. I cry more than they do. I cry until my whole body is heaving and I can't continue to play. \n\nIt's sad, but I can't stop. If I stop playing I am sure that my age will finally claim me. I'll die if I stop playing. ", "On Earth people used music to express all manner of things. Little girls sang songs to express their collective glee for anything and everything they saw. Teenagers struggling with new found emotions often found camaraderie in shared experience with the angst ridden thirty year old's who moaned at them on the radio. The stern commanders of Earth’s armies used music, or rather the rhythm of collective drumming, to order their men into rows, to shut down their minds. \n\nOn Earth this was common practice. On Earth one couldn't walk down the street without hearing a beat or a bass-line or a melody.\n\nOn the clear crystalline world of Traxxix, however, there were no melodious beat driven streets to saunter down. There were no playground rhymes. There were no angsty waves for someone to ride out their tough teenage years on. The army had a hell of a time keeping order at all, each Traxxian soldier moved at his own rhythm and gait which lead to fumbled marches and utterly disastrous parades. \n\nTraxxix did have music however but it was a precious thing and only a few privileged Traxxians were able to hear it. Incidentally the music sounded like the tinkling rattling of chandeliers. Upon hearing a few notes of the wondrous music the grey crystal of a Traxxians body would emote with beautiful colours. This was the only time emotion could be observed in the cold Traxxian form. \n\nEvery Traxxian was told at birth that music was an innate talent that couldn’t be learnt. That this emotive power was something that God gave to his chosen, and chosen they were; to lead, to conquer, to rule. \n\nAt rallies the leader of the musicians would stand before his people, beaming in proud purple, and speak and corral his crowd into a frenzy of red bodies glinting before Traxxix’s twin Suns. What he said didn't matter; all that mattered was the harsh crashing music which accompanied him. He directed them; screaming and seething at his opponent, some upstart tone-deaf stone-skin who only wished to represent his fellow musically challenged brothers. \n\nAnd so it went on. For generations of Traxxians, generations of musical elites and tone-deaf upstarts until one day. \n\nOne day something crashed down onto the shining surface of Traxxix. When it was found it was little more than a small capsule surrounded by scraps of broken wire and antennae. Curious to see if there was a pilot to be helped, or gawped at, the Traxxians pried open the capsule. They found no pilot, no body either, only a solid gold plague inscribed with a message they couldn’t read. \n\nIn Earthling it read:\n\t\n“Greetings from Earth”\n\nAs they reached down to touch it the circular rimmed plague began to spin and the soft overtures of Mozart’s concerto began to play. The Traxxians closest to the speakers began to glow in the soft light of the overture and each one became incredibly engrossed in not just their own bodies but the shifting beauty the music was causing in their fellow Traxxians. \n\nEach Traxxian’s body resonated differently to the music and soon those who found the colourful cascades of each other’s bodies particularly engrossing began to pair off. Not in a purely reproductive way, although they did still reproduce, but in a way none of them had a name for yet. \n\nSoon the group surrounding the crashed probe became a crowd, which became a movement which became, as many do, a religion. The gold record and its player were removed from its capsule and placed upon a podium surrounded by speakers so that all could hear and light up and love. \n\nWhen the musicians came to face down these upstart heathens coursing in deep violent red, with backing music to match they were struck dumb by what they witnessed. Each and every Traxxian was simply lying on the ground, eyes shut, allowing the music to pass over and through them. Some lay alone, some hand in hand, some had little baby Traxxian’s lying sleeping on their chests. Each one a different vibrant mix of colours forming a rainbow blanket across the crystal earth. \n\nOne by one the red began to drain out of each musician and one by one they lay down, closed their eyes, and wept crystalline tears of joy. No one knew what was going to happen next. No one really cared. All anyone on Traxxix cared about now was what the next melody would be.\n", "'I think she's ready for you,' the teacher beams, as he leads the mother into the piano room. 'Sonata in C, Mozart. And for such a wonderful piece, she's done it justice, I hope you'll find. \n\nThese days, emotional communication in music was pretty much the point of playing music - technical prowess impressed no one anymore. Nothing impressed anyone, except for emotionally charged music. Little Abby was taking her first steps into this world, now the most successful industry on the planet.\n\nBut for now, the futility of the present human condition mattered not to her mother. For about 3 minutes, she would at least be relieved of her typical depression. Musicianship was on a spectrum, and as a result of her tonedeafness, Abby's mum was always afflicted by more suicidal thoughts than other people who at least tried to help themselves by spending time improvising on the triangle.\n\nThe last notes from the Mozart piece were sustained and dwindling away. The mother feels tears on her cheeks, but she doesn't get why anymore. 'That was really cool, Abby. I mean look, I'm crying and all that.' She even puts on a fake smile. \n\nAbby fake-smiles back. But at least she knows why she's crying. When the whole world is depending on you to keep them afloat, things are gonna get messy." ]	9
	[WP] You have been elected US President in 2016, but have secret plans to turn the country that has been a democracy for 300 years into a dictatorship. You have a 5 minute speech to convince everyone.	[ "Good people of America, today will be a day that will go down in history. I promised you an America without fear.\n\nBy the end of my presidency, no longer will we fear war. No longer will we fear terrorists. No longer will we fear poverty.\n\nOur nation boasts the greatest military the world has ever seen. Despite this, we have been in a constant stalemate with the middle east for decades. I say it is time to break this stalemate and finally declare \"checkmate!\"\n\nWe will unleash our military might upon our enemies! Once we have routed all opposition, we must take steps to ensure none shall rise against us. The United States will control the countries in question with an iron fist. To keep our freedom, we must deprive them of theirs.\n\nOnce we have eliminated all threats, I plan to begin a new era of peace. I will declare the Monroe Doctrine null and void to all countries in the western hemisphere who choose not to assimilate into the United States. My main objective in this is to take control of Mexico. Millions of illegal aliens flood into our country each year. If we declare absorb all the citizens of Mexico and provide them with jobs, just think at all the tax money we will receive!\n\nThese are just a few of my plans to elevate this country to new heights. Eventually, we must venture on to new planets. How can we do this if the human race is not unified? \n\nHowever, I realize that some of you disagree with me. Some of you, blinded by your pride, will try to disrupt my plan. Which is why I now declare Congress permanently disbanded. USA does not need a house full of bickering men! USA needs a nation full of men who dare do to what is necessary to ensure liberty and justice for all! Anyone who seeks to prevent the destruction of Congress will be arrested! \n\nTo make room in the jails for those who wish to deprive us our freedom, I have declared all drugs legal! The government will now regulate them, tax them, and make sure they are as free as possible from all the toxic chemicals placed into them by the underground manufacturers. \n\nThat is all for today.\n\n \n\n\n", "Good evening, America.\n\nFor too long, crime and corruption has muddied our governmental process. Incompetence, hypocrisy and greed have run rampant. We elect our representatives in good faith, only to have them turn around and sell us out to corporate interests, spend taxpayer dollars on personal pursuits, engage in money laundering, cover-ups, theft, drug use, child-exploitation, MURDER...\n\nIt is with both trepidation and resolve that I must announce the following: I have obtained evidence of criminal acts perpetrated by EVERY sitting member of Congress and the Senate. This evidence has been passed down to the proper authorities, and arrests are currently being made.\n\nThis puts our great nation in a fragile state. With no representatives, the Executive branch, my office, is powerless and incapable of making law or declaring war. And believe me, with the world in the state it's in, that is an ability we call ill afford to lose. After much consideration, as well as the... blessing of the Supreme Court, I must now announce that I have taken on the responsibilities of the Legislative branch, and absorbed it into that of the Executive.\n\nI will not pretend that this does not sound frightening. Heck, I'm a bit scared myself. But with your help, America, we can get through this. Together. And we can get back on track to being exceptional again!\n\nGood night, and God bless the United States of America!", "Hello Everyone. I'd like you all to consider some simple concepts. \nA home that is yours, not the banks. \nA guaranteed income. No worrying about food and essentials, even if you are between jobs or disabled. \nA powerful military to ensure that complications of the world, never reach home, without breaking the bank. \nTrue equality for all, not just worthless words on paper for political motives. \n \n100 years from now, our grandchildren will learn we didn't have these basics and be appalled. \n100 years from now, our grandchildren won't have grown up in a society obsessed with greed. Our grandchildren won't have grown up with government officials who only care about the future two, four, or six years ahead. \n \nIt's time for you all to take a stand, rid the world of greed and excess. We will never accomplish this as long as the country is run by pockets hungry for money. You can make the world be about you, the individual, not corporations. When we cut out the middle man the savings go back into your life. \nWe see commercials claiming capitalism is the only way a country can advance. But do you think those commercials were made and paid for by a textile worker who can't put his children through college? Or by the CEO who has a $290,000,000 retirement package waiting for him and wants to keep it that way. Capitalism is simply greed. Unfortunately this greed leaks into every aspect of your life. Slowly poisoning it, but assuring you it's okay. \nWe must act now, As your leader, I can carry the torch, but you, the people must be my light. Follow where I point and you'll find yourself in a world everyone can be proud of.", "It is with great honor that I stand before you today, to take my turn to lead this great nation. I stand on the shoulders of giants and without your support, I could not have made it this far.\n\n\nLeaders have the unique responsibility of leading the people through the dangers that have become the world. My view of the world, among the great leaders of old, is pure. The nations around us are not.\n\n\nWe will be the instrument, God willing that will cleanse this world of the unpure. We will form a unity stronger than before. Our 50 states once stood separated. I stand before you to say that we are divided once more. By politics, by culture, by people. We will be no longer. We will be united for all of mankind to see.\n\n\nThis is the precise reason why starting immediately, the United States of America will be placed under martial law. Effective immediately do we take Canada and Mexico into our borders, as Protectorates, the first of many to join our great nation. \n\n\nOur allies don't know our full potential. Ready your hearts people, the eagle will soar far.", "My fellow Americans. \n\nMy dear brothers and sisters. \n\nLate last year, you elected me the Commander in Chief of your great United States. You voted for me, out of all the other potential candidates, as the leader of this nation. Of this beautiful, wonderful, ancient, and cherished experiment which ascended as the world's leader in democracy, freedom, and independence.\n\nHowever, your noble duty to this nation has proven a humiliating and ironic disaster for a myriad of years. You cast your votes as the year dies into the heart of winter in the hopes of finding the perfect leader to lead you. You pray to your Gods that this next one will be different. That this one will be strong. That this one will grip the horns of tyranny and bring his people to freedom and justice. Yet, the instant your leader makes a strong decision, you criticize his judgement. You call him a fool and jeer at his \"poor leadership\". Your fickle minds switch and twist and turn and churn in your approval of his counsel. You want to be lead by a powerful, yet noble figure. But, you fail to let him do his own job. \n\nTHe people are not smart nor stupid. They only fail to come together and make a solid decision. And for these reasons, you experiment has failed.\n\nBy the time the sun sets tonight, your Congress wiil dissolve voluntarily. Your opponents will suffer the cruelest of ends. Your allies will submit to your supreme authority. Your citizens will support and love their leader as he were Christ himself. \n\nDo not weep, for freedom still stands. And soon all of her enemies, foreign or domestic, will die unholy deaths.", "Now I know you all wonder how I can cary out many of the plans laid out in my campaign promises, Such as \"Restore order and morality to America\" can really be accomplished with having to go through a congress that is thoroughly made up of the other party and mostly against me. \n\nI understand and share your concerns. Which is why right now. In front of all of you fine people I am going to demo a new age of law enforcement. I present the fruits of several years of personal research. The Fusion reactor and Particle Dispersion harness.\n\nAnd to show you how they work, My congressional opposition has been volunteered. " ]	6
	[WP] After having grown up in outer space, you come back to your original home planet.	[ "\"Remind me why we're going down to the surface again?\"\n\n\"You think I know? It's better than sitting through another History of the Earth lecture,\" scoffed Adam, twisting his ring around his middle finger. He was nervous. I was too, it was our first time on Earth. We've learned so much about it - not that anyone cared - but still. I was interested at least, but I couldn't express it. I already got shit from the rest of my class for listening to 'Dirt Music' as it was called. Adam tried to explain it to me at one point, \"They live down there, we live up here. Get that straight, will you? They live in that decrepit shitstain, we live up here, in space. Their family decided to stay on Earth, ours chose to leave before shit hit the fan. Leave them alone and they'll leave us alone, got it?\n\n'Shit hit the fan' a couple years after my great-great-grandmother packed up and left Earth. Mass eruptions, tsunamis, earthquakes, the works. All that's left is a shell of what was Earth. All those pretty landscapes our virtual reality simulators most likely don't exist anymore. And so, society devolved on Earth while it progressed in the space sectors. This trip was just another waste of time, as my friends saw it. But not me, landing couldn't come soon enough.\n\n---\n\nWithin the next half hour, our ship landed squarely on a landing platform in District 47. A two hour tour of the facility was all we had scheduled, we weren't allowed to go down to the living quarters, it was too dangerous. We filed out one by one, stepping out on the solid concrete. A couple whistles and some wide-eyes students were scattered across the class, looking at Earth. There were no rolling hills, no beautiful flowers sprouting, and the only green was the paint on the wall indicating the entrance.\n\nOur tour guide led us into the facility. As our teacher counted us, I stared up at the behemoth machine in front of us. Long talons reached out from a massive bulk of metal, where the generator must have been located. They reached down, zagged and rough into the depths of the crater. You could see the lava boiling, but it just sizzled against the material. Most of us had our faces pressed against the viewing glass. You could see the molten fluid get sucked into the legs of the machine, making their way up to the generator. It was all so fascinating.\n\n\"Students! We will begin our tour now.\" We all promptly turned. Now it was the I'm-too-good-for-Earth clique that were the minority. \n\n\"Welcome to District 47! I need all of you students to stay close to me and do not wander off. Prior to the mass of natural disasters here on Earth due to the consumption of natural resources by the human race, two factions were created over the decision of the future of humanity. It was either to survive down on Earth, or travel to space and establish colonies there. Obviously, District 47 decided to stay. After the event, our society found a volcano that had not been too active and began to establish life here. Our citizens live at the edge of the volcano, while this facility harvests lava and turns it into energy to provide.\" Anticipating our reaction, the tour guide included, \"But not to worry, we have very advanced tools to deal with this volcano as well as very precise readings. Nothing will happen to put anyone in harms way.\"\n\nThe tour guide droned on about District 47. How safe it was, how well they were doing, how amazing it is that humans have conquered nature. It all felt very surreal to me. Generations after we left Earth, our society up in space has developed all forms of different cures, new discoveries in sciences, working on terraforming new planets, whilst these humans back on Earth are harvesting dangerous elements. The Earth was barren. It was broken, beaten, and tattered from years of disasters. Life down here was not walk in the park. It must have been a nightmare. \n\n\"Over here is where we convert the lava into energy,\" the tour guide pointed to a giant room with massive cylindrical tanks. Steam poured out of them, fogging up the glass we all peered through. \"We have state-of-the-art equipment, and our staff is well trained. Nothing can possibly go wrong.\"\n\nPerhaps our guide saw something different than I did, but nothing in their looked 'state-of-the-art.' Rusted, grimy, and unattended. \n\n\"This volcano has gone years without an incident, and after our last one, we've learned from our mistakes!\"\n\nWhy does he keep talking about safety?\n\n\"Civilians of District 47 are immensely satisfied with the work being done here.\"\n\nAlarms sounded. Red lights flashed while the clamor of bells penetrated our skulls. Looking out at the crevice, lava boiled and spurted upwards, sloshing against the spidery machine as it rose. Our group began to panic while the guide and our teacher ushered us back to the landing platform.\n\n\"We hope you have enjoyed your tour of our facility! Be sure to remember that life down here is safe for all that come! This is just a little snafu that our engineers will solve in a matter of hours. My apologies for the fright, but rest assured, it will all be okay, no one will get hurt!\"\n\nBeads of sweat, worried lines, a frantic look. We boarded our ship and prepared for launch\n\n\"Remember to come back and visit!\"\n\n----", "I was finally returning, the first baby born in space, raised by parents coming and going, astronauts staying for mere months at a time, to avoid \"muscular dystrophy\" so they've told me. Apparently I was an accident. Two rowdy and irresponsible astronauts got together in the ISS. I got by 3 forms of birth control, astronomically low odds, they laugh, but I know I am a freak. They couldn't send a pregnant woman down in a shuttle, I had to stay until I was strong enough to come on my own. Because of being raised in a 0g environment my muscles wouldn't be strong enough to withstand re-entry until I turned 16, and that's today. I finally would get to communicate with people my own age, apart from skype of course. I'm excited and terrified. Nobody knows how my organs and muscles will work on the earth, heck, I don't even know if I will be able to walk, but stir crazy doesn't begin to describe how I feel in here. I'll get to earth even if it kills me.", "I unsteadily stepped off the ramp leading down from the lander and, prompting open the visor that shielded my face, breathed in deeply. \n\n\"So,\" I said to no one in particular. \"This is what Earth smells like.\"\n\nIt was just like Jarrod had told me: all the sample nature smells from the registry onboard the station filled my nostrils, but all with an explicable added dimension. The soft waft of wildflowers, the sharp scent of pine; even the warmth of the sun seemed to be stimulating my olfactory receptors.\n\n\"Ridiculous,\" I said aloud. \"Don't pretend to be poet.\" But I smiled despite myself.\n\nI consulted the Nav-unit on my wrist to confirm coordinates with homebase: somewhere in the vicinity of a large forest range, located in a land once called Germany. I briefly wondered if that was pronounced with a hard or soft G sound. Hearing a shout, I turned around. The visor quickly shut over face and numbers flashed across my HUD.\n\nA man stood in the same meadow, followed by several strange animals that looked vaguely like clouds. He held out a rod or staff, shaking it in my direction, but my attention was riveted by the waist-length mass of grey hair that sprouted from his wizened face. Amazing! They never let people grow facial hair so long back at the station; there were strict laws against it. His leg was also interesting; as the miniature MRI did a flash-scan, I realized that the tibia was improperly healed from some past fracture, leading to the slight limp I could see. If I could get a nanobot booster shot to his leg, I could help him...suddenly, it dawned on me that he was speaking. And that I had no idea what he was saying.\n\nI let him prattle on for a bit longer, and then lifted a hand to my temple. A small click registered the capacitance signature between the tiny maze of wires within the gloved fingertip and the receiver-relay machinery in my helmet casing. \"Come in, Marco.\"\n\n\"We hear you, Polo. What's the situation?\"\n\nI turned on the video feed. \"This guy seems to be a native - no idea what he's saying, though.\" The man was still spouting gibberish at me. His animals, identified in my vision as \"SHEEP\", milled about him, blissfully chewing grass.\n\nA pause as the other line consulted with someone. \"Confirmed: he is speaking a derived form of German. Perhaps attempt communication?\"\n\nI shook my head, despite the fact that they couldn't see me doing that. \"Don't think that would help; it would be like speaking ancient Anglo-Saxon with you. His Post-German is too different, I think, from the original.\"\n\n\"Sit tight, Polo, we'll work on a solution. Over.\"\n\nI decided that, despite my own words, to try talking to him anyway. After lifting my arms slowly to indicate my lack of weapons, I lifted my helmet off and brought my cowl down. A lovely, warm wind blew over my shaved head and I closed my eyes for a second, enjoying it. Then, I smiled and addressed the man in a form of German that probably has not been spoken outside of the station in hundreds of years: \"Hello, I mean no harm. Do you understand me, sir?\" I kept the formal tone, just in case. Manners cost nothing, as the old adage kept.\n\nHe looked at me suspiciously and answered me with something I didn't understand. But then, a small realization hit me; i spoke again, this time muddling some of my words with French roots and conjugations: \"How about now, is this better? Do you understand me now? I bet you don't, but it should be a little more familiar now, I hope.\"\n\nHis eyes widened and he said something again. I still didn't comprehend, but I could hear the French basis to some of his words.\n\n\"Come in, Polo.\" The faint voice came from the helmet and I hastily put it back on.\n\n\"Go on, Marco.\"\n\n\"According to the linguistics department , his language seems to be not only derived from German, but also--\"\n\n\"French?\"\n\nA pause. \"Indeed. How did you know?\"\n\nI grinned. \"Never mind, Marco. My apologies for interrupting. Go on.\"\n\n\"A linguist is going to come on-line and assist you with language acquisition. Additionally, we've been monitoring the conditions reported from your suit. Things look good down there.\"\n\n\"Yeah!\" I said enthusiastically. Quickly amending my voice to be more professional, I said: \"I mean, yes. Radiation levels are impressively low, and the land seems to be fertile again - here, anyway. Just like what Jarrod reported from, uh, Venezuela, right?\"\n\n\"Correct. We are creating orders to send Rangers down to other parts of Earth soon, to do increased assessment. Anyway, recommended course of action for you: attempt communication again, find out more about how he and his presumed community lives - tech, health, ecosystem, the works.\"\n\n\"Will do, Marco.\"\n\n\"Linguist Kala will be on shortly. Good luck, Ranger. Over.\"\n\n\"Thanks. Over.\"\n\nI freed my head once more and smiled broadly at the man. He looked at me, puzzled for a moment, and then slowly spread his lips into a toothy grin. \n\n\"I think it's finally time to come back home,\" I said, beaming. \n\n\n", "All traces of happiness\n\nVanish from my face.\n\nStaring blankly through the glass,\n\nMillions of feet down,\n\nI wonder.\n\nWhat happened to this Earth?\n\nThose rolling green hills,\n\nThe dazzling turquoise seas.\n\nNow replaced by\n\nThe waste of 10 billion.\n\nMountains of rust and crinkled plastic,\n\nOceans of blackened water.\n\nWe did not stop this,\n\nWe merely\n\nPacked out bags\n\nAnd flew into space." ]	4
Best response will have their piece made into a screenplay and if all goes well, made into a short film which will be submitted into the Busan International Film Festival amongsts others. Full credit will be given to the OP.	[WP] Your beloved girlfriend is flying in to visit you and you plan to propose to her the moment she walks out of the arrivals gate, however after an unusual delay, you hear from a nearby television broadcast in an airport cafe that her plane is missing and never landed.	[ "The mid-afternoon Sun pushed temperatures into the upper 70's as Matthew powered his SUV through airport terminal parking, sweaty nervous hands on the leather steering wheel. That nervousness, normally reserved for reckless airport drivers, was far in the back of his mind. Front and center, instead, was the question weighing on his mind. Will she or won't she? Does she or doesn't she? There was no other thought in his mind as Matt parked his car and entered the airport. While he was certain of the question, he was far less certain of the answer. Distracted, he fingered the blue green box in his side pocket, resisting the urge to look at the turquoise ring centered inside of it. Maggie loved turquoise, and she loved the ring her grandmother wore even more. So when asking the family for Maggie's hand in marriage Grandma Jones, with a knowing smile on her face, gave Matt the ring. God, he loved Maggie's family, and he couldn't wait to part of it. \n\nMatt strode into the arriving flights terminal over an hour early. This was habit for him: he simply couldn't help it. Whenever he was nervous he liked to arrive early. It was like a biological imperative; he simply had to see the lay of land before the most important moment of his life. \"4 O'Clock\", he thought, terrified at the thought of a negative reply. Why? Because, simply put, Maggie was way out of his league. Not only was she beautiful, with porcelain ivory features and vivid blue eyes, but her intelligence had always been the talk of the small town Matt & Maggie had grown up in. And while advanced classes, skipped grades and academic contests were all something she excelled at, Maggie had a down to earth intelligence that made her easy to talk to. Everyone around her magically, felt special. \n\n\"Way out of my league\", Matt reflected. \nBut he steeled himself. They had been dating for a year now, and they had had conversations about marriage before she went to Ireland. And while she hadn't ...objected to the idea, she hadn't embraced it either. He was walking on a razor thin edge; but that's what love is. It was all about the chances we take, and the ones we leave behind. Well he wasn’t going to leave this stone unturned. \nWith 45 minutes before her flight landed, Matt reviewed how he wanted this proposal to go. Like an Army General planning a battle by considering each outcome, he thought about what he would do if she said \"yes\", and his heart would break. He also thought about what to do if she said \"no\", and how his heart would break. Either way this afternoon would be a real roller-coaster. \n\nWith so much time before the arriving flight Matt took a seat at \"The Pirates Cove\" aircraft bar, with TV's overhead. The bar had wood paneling with brass railings, and waitresses with striped shirts and suspenders, like they stepped out of some 16th century Austrian play. Matt reflected on the incongruity of German Pirates, while he ordered an Iced Tea. When the bartender brought the drink, he asked what the best way to track arriving flights was. The last time Matt had been to an airport was several years ago, and with the speed that technology was changing he fully expected to hear some new methods to track inbound flights. \n\"Well, right across the hall on the wall is the Arriving / Departing flights board\", replied the bartender. \"But it's not as up to date as this phone app I have\". \nHe pulled out an iPhone and turned the screen towards Matt. \n\"What flight number are you waiting for\", he prompted. \n\"689, in from Dublin. It's supposed to arrive in 40 minutes\". \nHe punched in the numbers on his phone and immediately flight information popped up, including a tiny world map showing the longitude and latitude of the plane. \nSurprisingly, the plane as in the west Atlantic Ocean, somewhere east of Bermuda. Nowhere near New York, which is where it was supposed to be. \n\"Why is the plane so far south?\" Matt asked. \"Isn't a plane from Ireland supposed to be much further north?\"\n\"Sure, but they have the plane arriving in 40 minutes, just as you expected\". \nMatt scratched his head and thanked the bartender, who went to help a tall blonde woman that sat at the bar. \nWith only 40 minutes to formulate a plan to propose, Matt started thinking about the various contingencies. \nOne, if the mood didn't feel right, he could simply not ask the question. The ring would remain in his pocket until he felt the time was right. \nTwo, If she didn't say yes right away, then something was wrong. \nThree, if she said she needed to think about it, that meant no. No, he thought. That's over-thinking it. Crap, this is never going to go well. He was just going to have to wing it. \nWith only 30 minutes to the flight landing, Matt pulled out his iPhone. Searching the apple store, Matt found the app the bartender had used, and downloaded it. \nJust like before Matt started the app, punched in the flight information, and waited for the flight information. The flight was just east of Miami, but still showed a 30 minute arrival. \nThat was impossible, Matt thought. There was something wrong with this app, so Matt took a look at the arrival / departure board just outside of the bar. 30 minutes, it agreed. \n\nMatt went back into the bar and paid his bill. He was going to have to find a flight information stand to help understand what was happening. The information he'd seen just didn't make any sense, so he started searching through terminal's long halls for a help desk. \nAfter a few minutes he arrived at the main terminal and found an airport attendee to help him. \n\"Flight 689, from Dublin\", Matt asked the older woman manning the desk. \"Can you tell me if it's going to be on time? My phone app says that the plane is somewhere in the Caribbean\"\n\"Those phones are always having some problem or another\", the woman responded, while quickly typing into her computer. \"It appears that plane is…just east of Miami\". She frowned, and called over her Supervisor. \n\"Jezel, can you take a look at this incoming Ireland flight?\"\nA tall African-American woman strode over and played with the keyboard. She too frowned, and dialed a number on her cell phone. \n\"Control, we have a plane that is scheduled to land in 10 minutes that showing a current position of just east of Miami. It's flight 689 out of Dublin. Can you tell me what's going on?\"\n\nSuddenly both airport workers froze, a scared and confused look on both faces. \n\n\"What's the matter?\", Matt asked. \"What's happened?\". \n\"The plane has … disappeared from our radar\", said the older woman. \"It's like it never existed.\"\n\"Control, are you reading this?\", asked Jezel. \"Where did that flight go?\"\nShe listened intently and started scribbling some information on a pad. \"And are you sure about that?\"\nAs she hung up the phone, her eyes looked up at me from the pad, dispassionately and without emotion. \n\"It's just disappeared off the radar, they're telling me. The plane wasn't supposed to be that far south, but it appeared just off the coast of Florida\". \nShe could hardly believe she was saying the words, but she consulted her pad to make sure. \n\"The plane is missing\", the supervisor said. \"It's last known position was over the Bermuda Triangle\". \n\nAcross the terminal, a news report blares out that a plane is missing and presumed downed west of Bermuda. Flight 689, they trumpet. The newscasters knew nothing about the flight other than where it took it off and where it was scheduled to land. And yet they could talk about that alone for hours. \n\nMatt sat down, dazed, in one of the airport seats. Maggie's plane was missing.", "Jennifer is set to take off in about 10 minutes so I pull out my phone and call her. I can just imagine her sat in the departures lounge waiting for the announcement for her row to take their seats on the plane. It’ll be crowded and she will have been alone for some hours now, I have to talk to her.\n\n“Hey Jen, I can’t wait for you to get back. I’ve missed you.”\n“Aww, Jason! I can’t wait to be back. It has been tiring but I’m glad you got me out here, it was a wonderful idea. You wouldn’t believe how much I have missed you.”\n\nIn the background of the call I hear a call for the passengers to start boarding.\n“I have to go, you might have heard that but I need to get on. I’ll talk to you later. I’ll grab a taxi home and then I can give you your ‘surprise’! Love you! Bye!”\n“I love you too! See you soon” but the call has already ended. She will be at the airport in a couple of hours so I start getting ready to go. It’s only a half an hour drive but I am going to get there early just to make sure that I don’t miss her coming out from the gate.\n\nI’ve been planning for this day for months now. Weeks of shopping around to get the perfect ring for her, I decided to go for a silver ring with 3 large aquamarine crystals in it. It might sound plain, almost boring but I added one detail that I know she is going to love. On the inside of the ring, written in elvish script are the words “Jennifer, you don’t need a ring of power to rule my world, love Jason”. She is a huge The Lord of the Rings fan, you see.\n\nHaving bought the ring had I just needed to think of the right time. She is visiting her grandmother in Canada at the moment, possibly for the last time. At the age of 97 Claire had become frail and weak after living a full and exciting life, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when she contracted influenza. Her health deteriorated rapidly and I knew that Jen had to go and see her one last time, she would never forgive herself if she didn’t go. We scraped together the funds, borrowing from a few friends to accumulate enough to get her there and back. We didn’t have to worry about accommodation, the hospital her grandmother is in has some accommodation for visitors that have travelled great distances to see loved ones, potentially for the last time.\n\nAfter a couple of hours I go out to my car and set off for the airport, I should get there with about 20 minutes spare before she gets out. I park my car in the visitor parking area and head into the arrivals area. Inside I can see the display showing when all the flights will arrive. Checking down the rows I spot Jennifers flight, CA465. It’s been delayed. With a sigh I head over to a café so I can grab a hot drink and sit down for a bit. There isn’t much point in standing around when there is at least 20 minutes left to wait.\n\nSipping my coffee, I look around at the people with me in the café. There is an elderly couple sat in the corner. They aren’t talking but they seem to be content to just sit there with each other. Thinking about the couple brings my thoughts back to Jen. I can imagine the look on her face when I get down on one knee and pull out the ring, It’s going to be priceless. The rest of the people in the café aren’t as interesting. There is a girl in her 20s working on a laptop and two guys with suitcases that probably just got off of a flight. With nothing better to do I start watching the television that is suspended above the tills. It’s on a news channel that is currently discussing a recent story about a fire that broke out yesterday on an industrial estate, no one was injured but a few buildings were severely damaged.\n\nAbout 40 minutes have gone by now, I’m on my third coffee now and expecting Jen to be coming in at any moment. I get up and pick my coat up off of the back of the chair so I can go and stand in the arrivals area. As I’m leaving I hear “BREAKING NEWS!” from the television that is now behind me. Out of interest I turn back around and watch the story. The words “missing flight” make me uneasy but I’m not worried, Jen has probably landed and is picking up her bag now. I feel sorry for the poor souls on the missing plane though. It must be terrible to lose someone like that. The missing flight hasn’t been identified yet by the news and after a couple of minutes I’m starting to get a bit worried. Jen still hasn’t appeared and her flight doesn’t seem to have come in yet. A couple of people nearby are looking worried and starting to panic.\n\nIt’s while I’m briefly looking at the other occupants of the arrivals area that I hear “NO! OH GOD, PLEASE! NO!”. I whirl round to look at the television where the flight number has been displayed. CA465. Jennifers flight. Missing. Everything goes quiet while I stare at the screen in shock. I have the ring in its box in my hand as I continue to stare. I’m still expecting Jennifer to walk through the gate and call my name; to have somehow arrived while the others did not. I feel hollow. Empty. Cold. A tear streaks down my face as reality sinks in. She’s gone. Forever. Everything we had, everything we were going to have, erased. Destroyed. Missing. I don’t feel the box fall out of my hand and hit the floor. By this point I don’t care about it; about anything. My vision is going and I’m unsteady on my feet, but I don’t try and grip anything. I let myself fall. My vision quickly fades to black as the ground approaches.\n\n“Love you! Bye!”\nHer last words to me, a hurried expression of her feelings that I was unable to reciprocate. \n“I’ve missed you.”\nMy last words to her. I missed her. Now I always will.\n\nProbably not that great and I don't know what kind of word count your looking for :P This is around 1000 :) I hope you like it and that there is enough story for you there :P" ]	2
	[WP] Unfortunately, the commandment of "thou shall not kill" also includes video games...	[ "This really hammered the proverbial last nail in the religion coffin home, I thought to myself as I burned in hell. I mean here I am immolating for all eternity but not being consumed by the flames, which is really just a big fuck-you to physics. Hell's level designer really should have asked Valve for pointers. I mean, this shit is so obviously fake I can't get to an immersion point for the suspension of disbelief. One thing they did get right however, was the heat. I am sweating my balls off over here. I mean, I guess I earned being here by standing in front of a cave for hours committing genocide on the fallen for digital loot, stomping on goombas heads, blasting metroids for fun, and all other manner of \"killing\" enacted against various pixel creations. But how was I to know that pixels were \"God\"'s chosen people/things?\n\nAt least my buddy /u/bradfordcp managed to get here too, although how he managed it with a 0/KD is beyond me...", "St. Peter opened the book and stared at the man in front of him. The Pearly Gates stood behind him awaiting the hero before them. \n\"I do have to say,\" the saint began, \"that your reputation does proceed you.\" The man smiled and tipped his hat. \"You've saved numerous kingdoms, rescued abducted damsels, made friends with your enemies and created the greatest legend of heroism the world has ever known.\" With that he removed his hat, humbly nodded his head and stepped forward. \n\"But,\" Peter held up his hand, holding the hero at bay without touching him, \"there is the matter of your other history. Larceny, a long rich history of drug abuse, cruelty to animals, reckless endangerment, and of course, mass murder.\" The last words elicited a gasp. \n\"What? Did you honestly believe that stomping heads in, throwing their bodies into incredibly deep pits, and burning them alive is irreprehensible? I'm not sure if that is as bad as roping your brother into the same depraved lifestyle! And what about the relationship with your greatest enemy? One day you're playing tennis with him and the next day you're drowning him, and subsequently his children, in lava! Did you think you could atone for these sins? The lives you have taken weigh more than your merits could ever lift you.\" St. Peter sighed and bowed his head. \n\"I cast you into the depths of Hell itself!\" He raised his hands as the man was pulled backwards and away from salvation. The last words the man uttered before disappearing into the abyss were \"But it's-a me! Mariooooooooooo......\"", "\"So wait, you can't kill people in video games?\" Jimmy asked the teacher.\n\n\"Depends.\" The teacher responded.\n\n\"On what?\" Jimmy asked.\n\n\"Well, why don't you give me an example and we will walk through it together okay?\" Jimmy thought this might be dodging the question, but he went along with it.\n\n\"Halo, you mow through hundreds of people in that game. Well aliens actually, but they're still sentient. Surely that one's out right?\" The teacher shook his head.\n\n\"But those people are trying to blow up the universe right? So in stopping a few hundred violent individuals you're saving trillions of others.\" Jimmy nodded at this.\n\n\"Well yeah, but what about games like call of duty? Those aren't about saving the world, and surely the multiplayer isn't.\"\n\n\"That would depend on the game. As I understand it, the first game finishes by preventing a nuclear war, and most of the others are geared towards either preventing a war, or ending it quickly. They may have controversial missions, but those are always skippable, or at the very least, you're not forced into amoral action.\" The teacher surmised his limited knowledge of the series.\n\n\"You didn't mention multiplayer.\" Jimmy pointed out.\n\n\"Are not multiplayer matches merely a part of the overarching story? So the same rules would apply. Even if you're on the 'bad guys' so to speak. As I understand it, those 'bad guys', still believe they're protecting their homes against invaders, in which case it basically counts as self defense. Besides, as I understand it some of them are even alluded to be training simulations. Isn't the new Halo multiplayer mode called war games? I saw the trailer and it sure looked like they were making it out to be a training simulator.\"\n\n\"But one last thing.\" Jimmy said. \"You've described a bunch of games where you're fighting as the hero, but that's not always the case. What about games where you're the villain?\" The teacher considered this remark from Jimmy.\n\n\"Depends on the game and your disposition to it. For example, I played a flash game where you're spreading a zombie virus across the world. This is clearly evil, but my intent wasn't to kill everyone in the world. My intent was to beat the game. You could've changed the game to say that I was spreading immortality, and it wouldn't have affected me in the slightest. It was about solving a puzzle, not killing people. However, if it had been about killing people, then that would have been wrong. If by playing this game I fueled a need to commit violence, then my playing of the game would have been wrong. So it is not just the game, but our disposition towards the game. Some games are more likely to direct our dispositions towards good, some are more likely to turn them away. It's all relative, and it's about putting things in your life that directs you towards good ends.\n\nJimmy nodded at all this, his questions resolved.\n\nI know this was meant as a silly prompt, but it actually does. Source: I've been teaching this for eight years, and used to play video games with a priest." ]	3
	[WP] Due to the rise of violence, poverty and less resources, the government has secretly issued a valid "lisence to kill" to a select group of people for population control. You are one of the select few.	[ "I woke up that morning like every other morning before.\n\nAfter the second alarm went off at 6;45, I made my way to the shower in a desperate attempt to wash off the drowsiness from the pills I swallowed last night. They call my mind and allow me even the tiniest bit of sleep at night as my wandering mind considers reevaluating my life.\n\nFrom her I do the regular daddy things: kiss my wife, drink my coffee, tease the sleepy kids about their stupid math homework from their devil of a teacher, and so on and so forth. After my breakfast, however, I take my pills again. These morning ones help to stop my pained mind from going through with the suicide. But, that thought fades quickly and I carry on with my wonderful life. \n\nUpstairs, I enter my office and grab the briefcase they gave me on my training graduation at the Control Agency. As an executioner, my duty is to trail various targets within the city which do not deserve to breath. With the help of the Public Surveillance department, I trail these unworthy individuals and locate the perfect time to eliminate them. After I've planned the final operation, I contact my Head Executioner and he gives the go-ahead to proceed. I then assassinate the target, usually with a silenced bullet or a quick knife jab to the jugular, and watch as they slowly bleed to death at my feet. After the Disposal Teams remove the body, I head back to the city HeadQuarters and repeat the cycle. \n\nIn my home office, in the Agency briefcase, I make sure my silenced M9 has a full clip along with three others just in case, and finally I make sure there are no bloodstains on my deathly black blade. I head downstairs and wish my kids a great day at school, kiss my wonderful wife goodbye, and begin the tracking and trailing process on my daily targets. \n\nThey say this job is not for everyone, but those who do get the position of executioner are blessed with the pills. We are told they help keep our minds calm during killing and help us contain the emotional toll we supposedly take on each kill. Sometimes I wonder if they really do work. But, then I think, they have to work. They're the only thing keeping me away from hearing their worthless screams.", "In the style of a corporate PA film\n\nHello and welcome to Megacorp(tm). Here useful people are used to produce and consume useful items and services.\n\nAre you useful? We have our dedicated team of evaluators ready and waiting for this weeks humanity crop. If you do well, we'll find a place for you at Megacorp(tm).\n\n^^^Selection ^^^grants ^^^utility. ^^^Utility ^^^grants ^^^survival.\n\n------\n\nThe interview was over. No skills, no schooling, resistance to authority, and high calorific requirements.\n\nCandidate 203 was not Useful to Megacorp(tm).\n\nThat was ok. I, your narrator am Useful. I am a level 3 Utility Enhancement Supervisor. I am a clinically certified sociopath with low empathetic connection to other humans. I was deemed useful when during my utility selection I was presented with a rabbit and I set it on fire.\n\nMy role in this story involves me, a Useful Machine, a Useful Product, and a USELESS candidate 203. Candidate 203 failed all indicators of utility, being resistant to skilled work, being resistant to mental work, being resistant to the authorities involved in unskilled work and having a biological calorific requirement higher than sustainable for their class.\n\nHowever, it was not all bleak. Although we could not teach, order, or control candidate 203, we could make them Useful.\n\nI looked at candidate 203 and started my speech.\n\n\"Candidate 203. You have failed us in all but one manner: You are still human. You are a meat based lifeform, which can be rendered suitable for consumption. By this, you will become Useful, and a fair payment will be made to any person you designate to receive it.\"\n\n\"However, failing to choose to increase your utility is a corporate regulations violation, and as a level 3 UES, I am granted the power to forcefully increase a persons utility without recompense. Do you wish to become more useful?\"\n\nA snarling string of curses came from the restrained person infront of me.\n\n\"Your resistance is witnessed.\" I then pressed the big red button on my console and dropped Candidate 203 into the protein extractor. They were now a Useful Product.\n\nI had just killed a person. A living breathing person I had known for all of 2 minutes. Do you know what I thought? I thought my knee itched. The conveyor rattled along.\n\n\"Candidate 207. You have failed us in all but one manner: You are still human.\"\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] In an attempt to ease tensions, Zeus decides to host a Family Game Night.	[ "First attempt at this… Feel free to leave thoughts and comments: \n\nZeus rubbed his forehead. His throbbing headache wouldn’t go away. He had even let Apollo’s good for nothing son look at it. \n\n“Of course he didn’t do anything,” Zeus grumbled to himself. One of these days he’s going to have to smite that fool.\n\nPerhaps he was being unfair. After all, Zeus knew the true cause of his misfortune. It was his family with their constant fighting and drama. His wife is the worst of them all. \n\nHe remembers when he first laid eyes on her. She was beautiful, a diamond in the rough, standing out amongst the vomit and pile of brothers. He hadn’t had a second thought about marrying his sister then. Zeus groaned, if only he had known.\n\nHera was an overprotective, over controlling, vengeful woman. She never let go of anything and she never seemed to forget absolutely everything. Zeus looked behind his shoulder. He better make his escape now before he had to listen to her moan one more time about that one girl from an eon ago.\n\n“Sneaking off to another one of your Harlots, again?”\n\nZeus froze, breathed inward, and prepared himself.\n\n“Is it the nymphs again? –No, it’s Ió again isn’t it? It’s _always_ you and her. Why don’t you run off and live with her for the rest of your life? Be happy together. Become intertwined trees for all I care.” \n\nIt was one time.\n\n“You just don’t care about anyone but yourself, do you? How can you live with yourself after all the damage you done to everyone around you?”\n\nYou turned her into a bull and chased her for a damn eternity. \n\n“Have you ever once thought about the family?? Th—The damage you’ve inflicted on them. The suffering you leave behind every time you—“\n\n“Go to play a board game with the family?” Zeus’ eyes widened at his own words. What did he just sign himself up for?\n\nHera looked stunned, ”You _what_ !?” It was priceless. \n\n“Family. Board. Game. Night.” Zeus said smugly. “I was just about to call everyone out so that we could spend some time together.” The very thought sounded like hell, “I thought it would be a fun idea”\n\nZeus summoned everyone over and sat back. He could let them choose the game and he would be able to sit back, relax, and get this painful event over with with minimal effort. At the very least he wouldn’t have to listen to Hera yell again.\n\n\nIt had been three full hours and they hadn’t narrowed the pile down at all. It’s been nonstop bickering. Zeus let out a thunderous sigh, of course it had been. Why did he expect any different? Ares was arguing with Hermes against Risk, the irony clearly lost on him, Hephaestus was arguing in favor of Jenga, and Dionysus was—where was Dionysus?? Zeus surveyed the room. The drunken fool was in the corner fondling a Nymph. \n\nZeus narrowed his eyes in jealousy. \n\nAfter some time taking in the sight, Zeus stepped forward. Clearly, he needed to decide the game. There was no way they were doing Monopoly. He needed to have this done with before Hades freezes over. Zeus drew close to Cards Against Humanity. This just may be—he felt a pair of eyes burn into him—also not an option. Hera’s face returned to her normal sneer.\n\nZeus gave up. He grabbed Life out of the pile. Why not? He had nothing to lose at this point. \n\nAs Zeus lifted Life there was a moment of silence. Some admitted smiles of satisfaction. Others bore grudgeful stares. It all fell apart, though, when it was time to choose colors. Ares fought with everyone making it clear that he was getting red and that no one should even consider claiming Aphrodite’s pink lest they want to face him. \n\nNo one even wanted pink.\n\nAt the very least, Hestia was as genial as always. She gave up her piece so that Dionysus could have a spot. With everything finally sorted out it was time start.\n\nZeus went first. He rolled his dice and move forward accordingly. He missed the payday tile but at least he didn’t land on any of the life events either. Next went Hera. She picked up the dice with a limp hand as if it has been defiled by the previous user. She rolled and quickly overtook Zeus, allowing herself the briefest of smiles.\n\nAphrodite giggled, clearly she thought it was her turn even though they already established they were going counter-clockwise. Hephaestus gave her the pink piece. Aphrodite pursed her lips and gave it a soft kiss. Her eyes were just barely closed, her hair framed her angelic face, and the good luck kiss seemed like it would melt the plastic piece. Everyone’s breath was caught in their throat as they focused intently on her, it was almost as if they were enthralled—Damn it, Aphrodite. Zeus shook himself free of the entrapment but continued to cautiously watch the scene unfold. Aphrodite gave her piece back to Hephaestus. Still in a daze, he cast her dice and moved her pieces. Done with his tasks, he slumped into a stupor. You’d think her own husband would be more resilient to her ploys. \n\nAphrodite leaned back and kissed Ares, “Good luck baby.”\n\nAres grinned revealing a wolfish smile. He cast his die and rolled a 1. Zeus clutched his throbbing head as Ares left the room screaming.\n\nA few of the other gods went until there was only the purple piece left unmoved. Everyone unanimously decided to skip Dionysus and toss his piece to the side. After all, Dionysus was still “busy.”\n\nZeus went again and landed on a life event. He drew a card. He looked at Hera and gave a timid smile. \n\n“Looks like I got a son.”\n\nShe wasn’t pleased. \n\nHermes landed a position as a trade consultant, a pretty big move in his career especially so early on.\n\nOn his next turn, Zeus got a daughter and his headache only worsened.\n\nHephaestus continued to move for Aphrodite since she had gotten bored and left. Hera got a husband on her third turn. \n\nZeus clutched his forehead with an iron grip, he had gotten another son.\n\nHermes became a millionaire. Everyone looked at each other and began muttering. Everyone was wondering how that was even possible this early on. Zeus eyed Hermes looking for a sign of foul play. Hermes gave a youthful, but devious grin, and spread out his empty hands. \n\nZeus got a third son.\n\nArtemis landed on a life card and got a fiancé.\n\n “Congratulations,” Hera was practically beaming at the thought, seemingly forgetting that they were just playing a board game.\n\n“I killed him”\n\n“You can’t do that sis,” Apollo looked at Artemis sternly.\n\n“Yes I can and yes I will.” Artemis spat vehemently, “I’m not getting married to some filthy man.”\n\nAs Artemis and Apollo gained volume Zeus began to hear the blood in his head. His headache was getting worse by the minute. \n\n “Thanks to this family no doubt,” He snarled as he started his turn, praying for a near ending to his misery. \n\nHe landed on a life event tile again.\n\nZeus drew the card. He turned the card with baited breath. He got another daughter.\n\nAt the eighth kid Hera began to yell. In all her might Zeus could hardly hear her over the deafening sound of the rushing blood in his head. Everything seemed mild and dull compared to the repeating _woosh_ and the intolerable pain each one brought. Zeus slowly forced his creaking neck to face Hephaestus. \n\n“Hephaestus, crack my skull open”\n\nHephaestus blinked. \n\n“Do it. Hit me with one of your hammers. End me. I just want this to be over with. All of this” \n\nZeus realized he was lying outstretched on the floor. Hephaestus clearly hadn’t hesitated for a moment. Zeus groaned and looked up at the female figure standing above him.\n\n“What the hell?”\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are an ordinary citizen NPC in a video game. Describe your life.	[ "People in hell don’t want ice water. People in hell want agency. I know. I’m in hell.\n\nEvery day at dawn I find myself in the square. There’s no point wondering how I got there, how long I’ve been there or what I may have been doing before. The others are in their assigned places. Some of them get to move.\n\nWe all wait silently except for the dog and the guy who claps. That clapping. I used to want to clap, but I know it must be just as bad as standing still.\n\nWhy are we waiting? We’re waiting for that kid. On the days he feels like showing up he comes rolling in from one direction or another, “hut-hut”-ing and grunting his way through the town, fairy twinkling and jingling in tow. The pots are all smashed, their contents pilfered. Sometimes I wish he’d smash my head in like one of those pots and free me. I saw him bottle a fairy once, though, so maybe I’d just trade one prison for another.\n\nI can remember a time when he “talked” to me. He came running up to my side and used a silent spell or motionless gesture to command me to action. I was overjoyed when I shifted in place to face him, only to be crushed as I realized it wasn’t me doing the moving, it was HIM. He stared at me with dispassionate blue eyes and bade me speak. Again and again, he ordered me to blurt out the same phrase. It didn’t hold any meaning for me. What could mean anything to a man whose entire life consists of idling immobile to cater to a dwarf demigod’s whim? Then, just as abruptly, he rolled off and left me there.\n\nHe never talked to me again after that. Every day at dawn I still find myself in the square. There’s no point wondering if I’ll ever get to leave. This is hell.", "It was an average day until they strolled up. Motliest crew I ever saw. Some guy in red armor, a ninja, a thief by my guess, and a priest. They wandered near the town gates for awhile.\n\nMy friend and I just stood there as these guys dropped imps like GP in a casino. It seemed like they were never going to stop. Then they finally approched me.\n\n\"Welcome to Corneria!\"\n\nStandard greeting for all guests. They wandered over to my friend.\n\n\"Welcome to Corneria!\"\n\nThen it was back to me.\n\n\"Welcome to Corneria!\"\n\n\"Welcome to Corneria!\"\n\n\"Welcome to Corneria!\"\n\nFinally they walked off and went back to eliminating the minor imp menace three feet from the city limits. We watched until they came back.\n\n\"Welcome to Corneria!\"\n\nChaos above! Do they just love the sound of my voice?\n\nThankfully they go inside. Then...nothing. We watch the fields and wait for nightfall. Nightfall never comes. I'm hungry, I want to see my kids and go to bed. Why isn't it-\n\nOh no. Those guys...they're adventurers. The imp-slaughtering and funny outfits suddenly make sense. They were hoarding GP.\n\nThey're min-maxing it up in the shops now. They're taking their time because the world does revolve around them. I hate that natural law.\n\nFinally night does fall. It is refreshing to see my wife and kids. Then it feels like the blink of an eye before I'm back outside on guard duty.\n\nThe adventurers show up and start slaughtering imps again. I guess it's fun to watch. Wish they'd hurry up with whatever their quest is though. The bridge won't build itself.\n\nHere they come. Hopefully back for supplies or to go sleep. Maybe to...oh no...\n\n\"Welcome to Corneria!\"\n\nFuck me...", "\"HYATT!\"\n\nOh great, is it? Could it be?\n\n\"YAH! WOAH! AH!\"\n\nShit, it is. It's him. That little boy, with the blue fairy. Just running around town causing all kinds of messes. And I'm just here, in my house, sweeping away, trying to clean up the mess he cause yesterday.\n\nWhat sort of mess do you ask? Well, yesterday, he came inside my house, without knocking or even asking mind you, and then proceeded to smash all of my pots. Not only that, but he opened up the chest I keep my pocket money in and took all of it. I had to spend the rest of the day buying all new vases. Luckily, I keep most of my money in the bank, so I didn't loose all of it.\n\nSo, back to today.... what's he doing out there? I can barely make him out through my windows. Oh no, he isn't, he can't be. Shit! He's heading right this way. Don't come in, don't come in.\n\n I hear the doorknob turn and the door slowly open.\n\nShit.", "Bullets and sirens sounded in the distance. Plumes of smoke rose from a series of loud explosions, and the sirens and bullets stopped for a bit. \n\nNone of that was my business, and I hailed a cab so I could go to work. Some guy tore through the streets like a maniac when I entered the taxi. Bullet holes and dents from multiple collisions covered the man's car. Every window was shattered. He ran somebody over and then just left the wrecked car on the sidewalk. Sirens were approaching along with the sound of a helicopter.\n\nI told the taxi where I worked, and he nodded. He seemed as anxious to get out of here as I was. We went forward a little bit before a bullet shot through the windshield. The cab driver's brains and blood splattered onto the window. His dead foot pushed down on the gas and sent us both speeding toward the building across the street. Some woman got caught in our path before the car smashed into the wall. \n\nThree cop cars drove toward the crazy man. One of them stopped near the taxi I was in. The sounds of a helicopter approached, and I swore when I saw a rocket launcher in the man's hand. Bullets fired from the cops' guns, and pot shots came from the helicopter.\n\nI just wanted to go to work! I threw open the taxi door and ran. Waves of heat blew toward me, and the pressur of the explosions nearly sent to me to my feet. Three explosions told me all the cops were dead. A fourth told me the helicopter was shot from the sky. Automatic gunfire took out people around me, and one bullet hit me in the leg. \n\nI screamed as I fell to the sidewalk. He was going through the cops' weapons, taking their ammunition and money. I tried to crawl away when he started taking the money from the people around me. My body was rapidly getting weaker, and we both knew I stood no chance of escape. \n\nHe was right above me with his pistol pointed at my head. I didn't even hear or see the gunshot. ", "I woke up very early, like I always do, and walked down the streets of the Imperial City. I saw the guards, manning the gates as always and patrolling the city. I walked in exactly 20 minutes to the market district and went to start my day, the Black Horse Courier isn't going to print itself.\n\nI had been working for about two hours when a strange man entered my printing room. I looked at him in all his repulsiveness, his purple hair and grotesque face, he didn't say a word to me, he simply walked over to a chest and starting trying to pick the lock. I watched him dumbly and told him \"Stop! Don't make me get the guards!\" He didn't say anything, he just walked into a dark corner, crouched down, and vanished. \"Hmm, must have been the wind\", I told myself and went back to my work. \n\nSuddenly an Imperial Legionnaire burst into the shop and confronted the corner the man went into. \"STOP RIGHT THERE CRIMINAL SCUM! YOU VIOLATED THE LAW, NOW PAY YOUR FINE OR IT'S OFF TO JAIL!\" I watched the exchange until suddenly the man reappeared out of nowhere and pulled out a massive daedric sword and cut the guard down. I ran out the shop and into the street, then I calmly walked away.\n\nI came back the next day and found the body still there, stripped of his armor and pockets empty. I simply ignored it and went back to work. I hear that the strange man went up to Kvatch, saved the city or something. I'm looking forward to him coming back to my shop, it would be an honor to meet him. " ]	5
	[WP] All your life you've been hearing voices. On your 18th birthday they suddenly stop.	[ "\"Don't do that, now see here-\" the voice of Edna the old lady was abruptly cut off by Jack the lumberjack bellowing \"Yes, that's right, boy!\" Jack could feel the sweat rolling down the side of his face as the bright orange ball left the tips of his fingers. The buzzer sounded and while the crowd was hushed, he heard the little girl Molly squeal in excitement as well as a hushed \"Oh dear\" from Edna. The ball teetered on the edge of the rim for what seemed like forever before falling back to the ground. Jack's stomach seemed to drop with it. \n\n\"Oh, don't worry about it, you gave it your best shot and that's what matters,\" Jack's mother said on the way home. She kept checking the rear view mirror to see if her words reached her son at all. Jack's little brother sat in the front seat with a Popsicle. He spun around to look at him.\n\n\"Actually, winning is what really matters but you didn't do that,\" he said. Jack heard a snort of disgust and a tsk of disapproval in his head. He ignored them as well as the statement. His mother's glare was enough to silence his brother, Tony, and make him spin back around.\n\n\"Tomorrow's a new day,\" she said, glancing up briefly again. \"And your birthday!\" she chirped. As if he had forgotten. Jack looked out the window, hoping that would make his mother stop talking to him. It seemed to work but it didn't give him the silence he was hoping for.\n\n\"Yayy! Is it our birthday too?\" Molly asked.\n\"No, hush dear,\" an older gentleman said. Jack liked the older gentleman he had named Joe. He was one of the quieter voices in his head and often shushed the other voices. \n\"Vell, vhy iz hiz birthday not ourz too? Ve are in hiz head, no? Daz mean ve are part of him, so vhy not?\" asked another voice. The voices all clamored to answer. They debated whether or not they should celebrate as well, despite only being voices. \n\nAs soon as they got home, Jack took a quick shower and crawled into bed. He always looked forward to sleep. Whenever he fell asleep, many of the voices did as well because there was nothing else for them to do. A few stayed up though but Jack didn't mind too much because he could tune them out. In all, he had about 24 voices so one or two could easily be ignored. He closed his eyes and waited for the slumber to take him.\nWith a sudden jolt, Jack awoke in a fierce sweat. He glanced at the clock by his bedside. It flashed 11:59. All of the voices were yelling but he couldn't distinguish what they were saying. It was loud, so loud. He held his head in agony and groaned. There was too much noise. Suddenly, it was quiet. The last voice Jack heard before the click of the clock striking midnight was Joe's. It was so faint but Jack made out the word, \"run\". \n\nEdit: Paragraphs to make it easier to read!", "The first sentence I had heard from him was stuck in my mind forever. \"Why won't they work!\"\n\"What? Is someone there?\" My eight year old body rose from the bed.\n\"Yeah, I can't see. You have to help me.\" We had a conversation. It wasn't very bad between us, and he helped me out. Whenever I had a test and did not know the answer, I would just think the question and he would tell me. Apparently, only I could hear him and only I talk to him. This was through thoughts. \nOddly enough, he didn't know his name, but he knew so much more. Answers to my questions, what to say, all of that. He stayed with for all my life. Then there was that one night.\nMy friends had taken me out for a ride on the night before my eighteenth birthday. He advised against it, but I still drank a lot of booze and ended up driving. It wasn't long until I was hit by a large truck. All that I could see was darkness. My body had ached, but i was certain that I was alive. My eyes. they wouldn't open. I tried so hard. Work dammit! \"Why won't they work!\"" ]	2
	[WP] Modern Icarus	[ "He had always liked birds, watching them fly, holding up his camera and taking just the right shot. The way their feathers glided along the air fascinated him, and he thought it was beautiful, because it was; to him. \n\nAs he grew older, his father warned him about the dangers he would have to face one day in this new-aged, car ruled world. This boy stopped caring about the graceful birds in his pictures and only wanted to be the fastest boy in his class. His father saw, but being the caring man he was, he bought his son a new car. Black, fast, loud. He made his boy promise that he would be safe, and the boy kept the promise. \n\nSoon enough, the boy moved out. He packed his car with his favorite items and took off to start his own life. He owned that world, so he thought. He was free, and didn't have to keep his promises anymore. He burned his carefully printed photographs; the birds and beautiful images he once loved, now dead. He said, 'that's part of my past' and his life went on. He left his father for longer and longer, until the young man became unrecognizable to his family, the only thing the father felt he knew was the same car that he had bought so many years ago.\n\nAlthough he was so arrogant in his unstoppable ways, he thought himself unbreakable. He broke his promise, and he didn't stay safe. He had been impenetrable, until a transport trucked stopped his train of thought. It had stopped his heartbeat, surrounded by fractured ribs and a broken love he had lost too long ago. No longer could he have the change to watch the creatures he had once loved with such a burning passion. He had no memories that he cared for of it, yet still felt attached. He thought he couldn't love what he wasn't supposed to. He broke his promise to his father, and broke the old man in the process.\n\nOnce, the boy found a feather. He was a man by then, but he still felt his heart leap when he saw this beautiful, perfect feather. He strung it up on his mirror, in his car that he had once gotten from his loving father who he no longer knew. The feather had once been from a hawk, the same hawk that he hit on the road that very day while it had been searching for food. The same hawk that had nested outside his house. He wondered where his graceful friend went, unknowing that this beautiful creature had been beside him the whole time, and beside him while he died.", "I faced the thieving night, the stars like tumbling coins spilled into a murky pool. I waited for one to fall, to land in my hands and to give me fortune once again. But there is no balance, no judging hand to free me from my shackles.\n\nI went over the messages from my phone again. The frantic texts to and from family. The begging campaign to faceless and mysterious men. And finally my coup de gras, the notification from the bank with all the empty words, the meaningless formalities whose only purpose was to take up space between \"bankruptcy\" and \"foreclosure\".\n\nA car passed behind me, loud and uncaring, dragging the wind behind it as it sped back into nothingness. The water beckoned and snatched below, each wave disagreeing with the last. It struggled against itself, each wave reaching out like a soul from Asphodel, mindlessly whispering, needing to be heard. My hands shook against the steel girders, reminding me of Samson in the temple and I wished that I at least had the chance of his divine strength.\n\nBut I had been given the chance, had I not? I had had a good life with a loving family and a business I had never given up on. But my arrogance made myself immortal in my own eyes. I had not believed I was capable of fault, plans of caution were beneath me. I risked everything and gained, so I had no safety when I finally lost.\n\nMy phone buzzed. The screen lit up with gentle light in my hand, almost as if I had one of those stars in my hand. It was from my father, words of support and advice. He had gone through what I had and come back, although I knew I could not.\n\nBut as my feet stepped forward, up and over the rail, I realized something. In the cold wind that ran gleefully beside me, I was finally flying away free." ]	2
	[WP] Time and time again, the Loch Ness Monster has tricked you into giving her $3.50. Finally, you will fight back.	[ "It ends tonight.\n\nI regret ever taking Martha to the loch. It was supposed to be just the two of us, two old timers taking a lazy paid-for-by-their-kids vacation seein' the sights and everything. We went out to the famed Loch Ness, hired a rowboat and I rowed her around, taking in the beautiful scenic view. I joked with her about finding the Loch Ness monster.\n\nI found it.\n\nAll of a sudden, Martha pointed at a spot right behind me, the surface of the loch bubbling and foaming where she pointed. Our hearts leapt into our throats as a gigantic, scaly head appeared, protruding from the surface. Its long slender neck rose towering from the depths, its red bloodshot eyes staring down at us from above a row of yellow jagged fangs. It lowered its head and Martha began to scream, but just as its head came about level to our boat, it opened its mouth...and spoke.\n\nThat was the second most incredulous thing to happen that day. The third was its actual appearance. The first was what it actually said.\n\n\"I need about tree fiddy.\"\n\nDumbstruck, slack jawed, eyes wide and my mind reeling swiftly into the abyss of madness, I reached into my pocket and gave it three pounds and fifty pence, so happened to be the exact change I had. A long slimy tentacle extended from the dark waters, wrapped around my hand and took the money down into the depths. The horrible monster spoke again, saying, \"Thanks, man, you a'ite.\"\n\nI rowed us back to shore as soon as it was gone. I was just complaining to Martha about how my arms were sore from the rowing before the monster showed up. On the way back, I'd have rowed us thirteen times around the world if it meant I'd never have to see the robbing monster again.\n\nBack upon the shore I asked the boatman if he'd seen the Loch Ness monster (half-jokingly, in case he thought I was insane). He snorted and said, \"Aye, always comes up asking for money. Three fifty, always the same amount.\"\n\nA lump formed in my throat. \"Did you...did you give him the money?\"\n\nHe looked me dead in the eye as if I said I had murdered the Queen. \"Ye daft bastard. Ye gave him the money, didn't you?\"\n\nI nodded. He shook his head and wished me well, but said nothing else. Little did I know, my troubles were only just beginning.\n\nA few days later, back at the hotel, me and Martha had put the whole Loch Ness Monster thing behind us. We had just come back after exploring the English countryside, which by the way was beautiful and full of nice wonderful people to talk to and things to see. Martha said she wanted to take a nice long nap, while I decided to go back out and buy some sandwiches.\n\nI had barely got my boots on before I heard a knocking at the door. \"Housekeepin'\" a voice called out, and I finished putting my shoes and jacket on first before opening the door.\n\nImagine my shock when what I saw wasn't a cleaning lady, but rather an ancient, scaly evil from the depths of Loch Ness. Unbelievably, the Loch Ness Monster had returned. I wondered how it could have fit its gigantic body into the tiny hallway in front of us, but before I could do anything else, it extended a tentacle and said in its loud, booming voice, \"I need about tree fiddy.\"\n\nI screamed this time, and slammed the door in its face. I stumbled backward and landed flat on my ass, nearly breaking my pelvic bones. Martha came rushing out of the bathroom in her towel, but I was rambling, ranting and raving, with nothing coming out of my mouth except 'monster' and 'tree fiddy'.\n\nMartha decided I had had enough excitement and arranged for us to fly back to the States. For all the good it would do.\n\nA few months later I saw it again, but I didn't know it was him at first. I was walking back from doing the groceries for Martha, when I saw a young man in a hoodie standing on the sidewalk ahead of me. I ignored him; pay any of these thugs any attention and they invariably pay you too much in return. But as I passed by the man, he turned and tapped me on the shoulder.\n\n\"Hey man, can you help me?\"\n\n\"Sorry,\" I said, trying to avoid eye contact. \"I'm in a hurry. Maybe next time.\"\n\n\"C'mon, please?\"\n\nI sighed, and turned around, staring the youth in the face. They were remarkably unremarkable, and could belong in any city in any country on the world. \"What do you want?\"\n\nHe smiled, walked uncomfortably closer to me, and whispered, \"I need about tree fiddy.\"\n\nWell it was about that time that I realised something was off about the man. In horror I watched as his features changed from human to reptilian, his eyes turning blood red and his smile widening and widening, refusing to be contained by his human face, the yellow fangs bursting from crimson gums like pus from a boil. It was the Loch Ness Monster, following me from Loch Ness all the way back home.\n\nIn my shock, I somehow managed to yell at it, \"I'm not giving you any money! Go away! Leave me alone, Loch Ness Monster!\"\n\nIts smile stayed in place. \"Aw, c'mon, man. Don' be a busta.\"\n\nI ran all the way back home, looking behind me to see if it was following. It hadn't, but I had the feeling I'd never be rid of it.\n\nAnd so I was not. From that day forward, I couldn't spend a week without getting harassed by the Loch Ness Monster. Fear turned to anger as girl scouts priced their oatmeal and raisin cookies at 'tree-fiddy'. Anger turned to hate as the total receipt for my groceries turned up to 'about tree-fiddy', according to the cashier. And finally, after I screamed and got arrested for trying to beat up a vending machine for pricing my coffee at $3.50, I realised that I had suffered long enough.\n\nThe first thing I did was call my son. Ignoring the various texts asking for 'tree-fiddy', I called him up and said I was going to join a gym.\n\n\"Uh, Dad? You're fifty four,\" he had said.\n\n\"Not too late, is it?\" I didn't need to be Arnold Schwarzenegger. I just needed to be fit enough to do what I had planned. In the end, Joe caved and signed me up for a gym membership.\n\nThat was a year ago. One whole year I waited, bided my time, tolerating the abuse of the Loch Ness monster. I was careful to keep the motions going, yelling \"I DON'T HAVE ANY MORE MONEY! LEAVE ME ALONE!\" at it sometimes, throwing the money at its face in other times, just to make sure it suspected nothing. I even assaulted the vending machine a second time when it seemed too long since it had asked me for money.\n\nI had a plan. A plan to get rid of the Loch Ness monster for good. Admittedly it's not a very good plan, but the alternative is going mad in a padded cell whispering 'tree-fiddy' into a puddle of drool.\n\nWell, fuck that. Tonight's the night it ends.\n\nI had gotten reservations for the two of us at a restaurant downtown. It's our anniversary, see. Me and Martha got dressed up like we were going to meet the President, and walked all the way there, talking and telling jokes like we did when we were young. The food was good but not great, though to be fair, after growing old on Martha's cooking nothing's ever good enough. We chatted, wondered how our kids were doing, decided we should call them tomorrow, and walked home.\n\nAbout halfway there, it struck.\n\ncontinued", "3:47 AM Lake Loch Ness, Scotland.\n\nA boat sits still on the water, calm as glass and black as night. From the bow of the ship a wisp of smoke rises from a freshly lit cigarette. The glowing ember pierces the dark like a dagger. A man, a tall and dark silhouette in the early morning, pulls the cigarette from his lips and surveys the water. His eyes darting rapidly across the lake, trying to take it all in at once. It wouldn't happen again, he thought. There was simply too much at stake. He took a long thoughtful drag, flicked the butt in to the black water and walked briskly to the helm, carefully securing the door behind him. He fired up the engines, a low grumble of exhaust bubbling up from the black water. The grumble had stirred something in the cabin, and from the sleeping quarters came a meek \"Dad?\", \"Yes, William its only the engine, go back to sleep, you need to rest.\", \"I can't go back to sleep now\" Willy complained, \"I had the dream again.\" The mans eyes darted up. Looking right at his son. He rushed to his bedside and grabbed the boy. \"William, what did you see?\" He asked firmly, \"Tell me exactly what you saw in your dream\". Will was startled at first, but began to recall what he could remember to his father. \"It was dark. I could see mama, and Jane on the shore, but they were dark.\" \"Aye, yes just like last time\", the man said, \"yeah like last time, I was stuck like last time too! My legs wouldn't move.\", \"Okay what happened after you saw mama and Jane\", \"Well you started driving the boat away from them, we just kept going and going until I couldn't see them anymore\" Will continued with fear in his voice \"We were going to see Nessy. You said she was calling us home. That we had to go meet her so we could be clean, clean like the black water\" He jerked back from his son, grabbing his hat with both hands from his head and clinched it tightly in his fists. \"No, no, no, no!\" he cursed. \"She will not have me again\", \"Not after what she done to us Willy\", \"I won't lose you too, I swear to you willy, I won't lose you too...\" he began to cry, Will reached from the bed and hugged him tightly. \"I know you won't daddy\" reassuring him, \"This ends tonight.\" the man said wiping the tears from his eyes. He fixed his hat firmly on his head, and looked to willy, \"find her for me boy\". Willy's eyes rolled back into his head and his body began to tremble (a terrifying sight to the uninitiated but a common one on this ship). Willy raised his hand and pointed west. They headed full-steam westward. \n\nThey arrived at a cove sometime after 4. Willy ceased to shake and his eyes met his fathers. \"You did it boy\" he said with pride. \"We're right at her front door\". The man rushed to a storage compartment underneath willy's bed retrieving a black dagger tipped with crimson red.\n\"OK Willy, what do we do if we see Nessy?\"\n\"Hide under our blankets!\" Willy shouted as the mimed the maneuver they had practiced time and time again. \"That's right\", the Man said. \n\"Now what do we do even if she promises to be really nice?\", \n\"Stay under no matter what! Not until papa comes back!\", \n\"That's right, not until papa comes back\", \n\" I love you Willy\", \n\"How much?\" Willy asked.\n\"To the moon and back me boy, to the moon and back... Now get under your covers, I'll be back in no time\" Willy covered himself with the blanket and his father tucked him in tightly. He kissed Willy's forehead through the blanket and walked out of the cabin.\n\nThe man dropped from the side of the boat plunged into the cold dark blackness, dagger clenched between his teeth. He swam slowly, with purpose in his stroke and revenge in his heart. He approached the cave and he could smell the beast. A stench so foul and dank it could only be described as darkness. He crawled on his stomach into the cave. His breathing was slower now, he had to concentrate, this was his last chance. He slid into an open area of the cave with a large pool in the center. The smell was almost unbearable now, held his hat over his face in a desperate attempt to mask the stench. Suddenly from the pool arose the beast, in all of her magnificence. Dark, dank, slick and cold the beast flew up from the water and landed on the shore mere feet from the Man. Petrified at the sheer power of the creature the Man dropped his dagger and stood in disbelief. Nessy approached him slowly sniffing around his body, getting his scent. The Monster opened its mouth bent down and said, \"I need about tree-fiddy\" The man began to inch his hand toward his pocket to retrieve the monster's tree-fiddy, but for some reason he stopped. All he could think of was Willy, this gave him strength. The man rolled to the right and grabbed his dagger from the cold wet floor. He charged at the Monster with a roar, \"I got yer fokin tree-fiddy right here you sea-monster cunt!\" He stabbed upward through the beast's skull. It writhed in pain as the dagger seared the inside of her brain. Nessy fell to the ground with a massive thud and let out a final sigh, \"I just.. needed.. about... tree.. fid--\" The beast was dead. The Man fell to his knees. Absolution, he had done it. He was free from that wretched beast. He and Willy could finally live their lives in peace. The man crawled out of the cave and splashed back into the cool water, the stench was still with him, smelling even worse now. He pulled himself up into the boat, rolling over the edge falling onto the deck and lying there trying to process what had just happened. It had been so long since the Man had hope in his life. This was a new beginning, a new day out of the black water. He sat himself up on the deck, stood up and walked into the cabin to give Willy the good news. He walked in the door and smiled at the sight of Willy still frightened underneath his blanket. He smiled because it was something he knew he would never have to see again. He walked over to his bedside and said,“Papa’s back, we did it buddy.” as he lifted the blanket from the bed only to find the GODDAMN LOCH NESS MONSTER who looked up at him and said, \"I need about tree-fiddy.\"\n", "Lemme tell 'ya 'bout this here Lochness Monster here. He gets tree fiddy from one guy, then goes out and buys a disguise for 'bout tree thirdy. Keep that twenty cent, he does. Lord knows what he does with that there twenty cent, but he keep it. \n\nSo I'm on to him, so I says to myself, I'm goin' down to the bank and depositin' all my money, that way that Lochness Monster there can't trick me with a disguise, so I go to the bank and I wait in line and I get to the front and I say I wanna deposit all my money and the teller says yeah ok, tree fiddy at a time. \n\nSo I give him tree fiddy. \n\nNow it's about this time here that the bank teller starts runnin' away. That's when I realize that this bank teller was actually eight stories tall and a crustacean from the protozoic era! \n\nLet that be a lesson to 'ya now, that this here Lochness Monster can pretend to be anyone. If you benefit from this here story, you can repay me by just givin' me 'bout tree fiddy. " ]	3
	[WP] Instead of killing him, a timetraveller tells Hitler how future generations will remember him.	[ "Adolf was no fool. It all started with the first letter. The man wished to meet, providing detailed knowledge of plans that had been spoken to no one. It all could have been coincidence, but the final note describing in detail the exact results of the election before it occurred. It seems that even in the future Americans are fools. The interrogation was a success, despite the untimely death of the “time traveler.” What a General wouldn't do to know every move and countermove. To know not just feel, but the ebb and flow of the battlefield. \n\nIt was a colossal chess game, with time as the board. He refused to be a pawn. How have none seen what is so apparent. Genetics and religion are the key. If certain religions will lead to destruction, let them burn. If the Arian race can resist genetic instability brought on by the mixing of race, then a single race must prevail. The time traveler wanted Adolf Hitler to be a name of unification for the world, but Adolf refused to be a pawn for peace that leads to the inevitable end of the human race. Instead he must be the villain, a man destined for genocide and in-human acts that will ravage the world. Then, after the flames have purged, humans will be born anew. A planet unified by blood and the sword. Whether success or failure, Adolf Hitler would be an infamous name. A name for all that is evil in the world. He would not be the protector that the human race wanted, but what it desperately needed. \n\nPoland was the first to fall.\n", "\"I'm not here to kill you.\" I raise my hands in the air to show him I mean what I say.\n\nHitler draws his lips into a smile. \"How did you get in here?\"\n\n\"I came from the future.\"\n\nI'm not sure whether I expected disbelief, but Hitler sits easily in his living room, right foot crossed over his left. He lights a cigar. \"And what does the future have to say?\"\n\n\"The future hates you,\" I say, saliva flying out from my lips. \"The future will hate you,\" I say, correcting my tense.\n\nHitler looks out the window, towards the country he has finally conquered. He is smiling. He knows what he is about to do. He has it all planned; no trace of spontaneity clouds his mind with doubt.\n \nI stare straight at him, my mind wavering but my gaze insistent. \"Think about how you will be remembered.\"\n\nHitler turns towards me. His smile does not dissolve like I expect. Instead, it grows wider. Almost warm. \"At least I will be remembered\"--a pause--\"and that's all that matters once we return to the very graves we trampled on, nein?\"", "In the original history it was Hitler that won the war but in a much quicker and cleaner fashion. Hitler's blitzkrieg originally took Belgium and France too quickly and his u-boats were able to starve out the British out of supplies by practicing unrestricted naval warfare from the beginning. This allowed him to turn the full might of the German military to take out Russia before they were prepared and by mobilizing early enough they took Moscow before the Russian winter set. This effectively rendered Europe under German control. Years later the world would belong to Germany after a period of consolidating the assets of Europe to enhance the war machine. We sought to change that history and we needed to take drastic measures. Originally we believed that we could just send someone to kill him, but every attempt failed. It was only later that we realized that every person has a karmic value and their karma greatly influences their luck. \n\nHitler was an abnormality who possessed an enormous amount of karma which allowed his plans to succeed while preventing us from harming him. To change that we had to attack his karma before we could attack him. \n\nMost people believe that Hitler wrote Mein Kampf, however, that is a misconception. We did. The plan was simple and it involved secretly drugging Hitler during WW1 and implanting a chip into his brain. Then while he was in prison we provided to him a copy of Mein Kampf. This original copy was special in that Hitler would see the future events we wrote within. Of course at first the events accurately depicted what would happen and he began to believe that the book when it told him about the future and of his inevitable victory. We encouraged him to promote the Aryan race and commit the holocaust while sending millions more to their deaths in the prolonged war.\n\nEventually these factors depleted his karma to the point that he could no longer win the war and with the many atrocities he committed the world would not allow him to live. \n\nWe had accomplished our mission. The world paid a heavy price but we had won. In our eyes no price is too great to change a future where there is order, no national borders, and few conflicts. We are the greatest mercenaries.\n\nWe are Outer Heaven.", "Adolf Hitler is sitting in his office, minding his own business, doing his job as chancellor of Germoney, when a sudden gust of wind interrupts him and destroys his newest painting.\n“Scheiße! Who dared to open the window!” he screams, half in German and half in English. \n“Ich will find this man, and make him into my next model!”\n\nBut even such a strong threat cannot stop our daring adventurer. He walks to the mustached man and says in calm voice.\n\n“My dear, dear Adolf. I came here from the future. And I am here to tell you how you are going to be remembered. And, oh boy, it’s not a very nice thing.”\n\nAdolf smirks at his remark, and a smile can be seen creeping on his face.\n\n“Oh, really? Do you think I don’t know what future generations will think of me? I do well know. I will be remembered as dictator, murderer and someone who almost wiped out entire race. Do you really think you are the first to travel through time?”\n\nEven if this remark is surprising to the traveler, he doesn’t let it to be seen. He keeps his poker face, not showing any kind of emotion.\n\n“No Adolf. I know I’m not the first one. But I hope to be the last one.” He pauses, and walks up to destroyed painting. “That’s… quite interesting.” This is the first time his face changes. His eyebrows rise, and his forehead freckles. Those painting are disastrous, and even he can see it. No wonder they didn’t take him into the art school. “You painted that, didn’t you? So you are an artist, I see.”\n\nHitler replies suspiciously, carefully thinking about each word. It’s the first time anyone inquired about his art.\n\n“Yes, I would call myself an artist. But why do you ask? How is it supposed to stop me from doing my deeds?”\n\nMeanwhile, the adventurer makes himself comfortable by sitting at the only chair that survived his arrival.\n\n“You see,” he begins, hoping that his years of preparations did not go to waste. “in the future – not that distant, mind you – people will be able to communicate across the whole globe in the matter of mere seconds. Can you imagine such a thing?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for reply. “And we call this system <<The Internet>>. It is great way for artists – just like you! – to post their stuff, so that other people can see it. And, you see, I am an artist myself. I create art in words, simply put, I write. But my imagination, you see, is not very good. So I have to rely on others to provide me interesting prompts to write about. So I joined the community of inspiring people. And, you see, it was a great adventure at first! So many different inspiring prompts! So many plots and stories to be shown, not told!” Eyes of traveler sparkle, as he remembers the “Good ol’ times”. But now is no time for that.\n\n“But you see Adolf, then something happened. At first, no one would mind it. One or two prompts a week about you, in some alternative history.” Adolf visibly blushes as adventurer says the last sentence. “But then, it only got worse. When I left my home, in the year 2025, there were exactly two hundred million eighty five thousand and five hundred one prompts about you. Can you imagine how killing for creativity, for art it is? You see, now no one creates anything new. It’s just the same old stuff, over and over again. And I just can’t take it! Adolf, please, you need to…”\n\nSuddenly, Adolf places his finger on his interlocutor’s mouth.\n\n“Say no more” he says, and takes his paper knife out of a drawer in his desk. He puts the blade near his skin, and then suddenly launches his arm in the direction of another speaker. The blade went deep into adventurer’s throat. His eyes widen with fright and face grows pale. The feeling of utter failure overwhelms him when he finally understands that he let the future down.\n\nAdolf takes the knife out of the body, and lets blood spill on the carpet in his office.\n\n“Scheiße. Where is this world heading? Man can no longer do his work in his office, without having at least five time-y wimey-y travelers come and talk about morals.”\n\nAs he ends the last sentence, another gust of wind sweeps inside his room.\n", "'Adolf... Hey Adolf...'\n\nI'm terrified, I am just inches away from this monster, although I don't think monster is a strong enough word for this creature in front of me but I can't see that now, all I see is a young guy, underweight, scrawny and cold.\nI am alone with him but I’m powerless to do anything to him, that’s not how this works, at least not yet, for now physical interaction isn't perfect. I sit on the chair I was sitting on in the present and the less I move or touch the safer I am and I'd rather not tear a hole in space and time. I still want to finish Half Life 3 when I get back.\n\n'Adolf.... '\n\nHe moves and rolls over in his bed. He blinks at me confused, oh oh, I don't want to startle him too much, the last thing I want for him is to charge at me.\n\n'Am I dreaming?'\n\n'Ok Adolf, just wait 2 minutes I have something important to tell you but first I need you to know I’m serious and that there is things going on here that you won't understand.'\n\nI hope his youth helps me on this, maybe he is more open minded now.\n\n'Your mother, she isn't well right now is she?'\n\n'No, is she ok, did she die?'\n\n'You have skills in painting but it’s not appreciated is it?'\n\n'No but that’s not important', he sits up in bed.\n\nShit I don't want him freaking right now.\n\n'Yes Adolf, yes your mother is fine' (I'll tell him the truth later, ease him in)\n\n'Oh thank God, what is going on why are you here and saying this?'\n\n'Look I’m trying to walk a very thin line here, I ... I ... I have something to tell you that you aren't going to like, you aren't going to understand and I need you to be calm and have an open mind. Can you do that for me?'\nI can see interest in his eyes, I have him hooked, I hope!\n\n'Ok here goes, Adolf... I'm from the future.'\n\nI see him tilt his head, he isn't freaking out at least not yet anyway.\n\n'Prove it!'\n\n'Ok, I’ll try but some of the things I tell you will only happen after this meeting, so just keep what I have to say in mind. You aren't getting into art school, not this time and not the next. And there will be a next because you don't have the credentials to do architecture do you?'\n\n'Easy you are from the school. This is all a prank, you don't fool me. He is agitated now and I can't blame him.'\nI beg him to sit down again, to relax. 'There is a great danger coming Adolf, a war, and not a small one. It will be worldwide and you, you will fight in it. Not for Austria though, I know you, you don't like the mixed race of the Austro-Hungarian Empire so instead you will join the Bavarian Army. Does this sound like you? Not everyone knows this about you at least not yet, do they?'\n\n'Will I survive?'\n\nI have him! 'You will survive but you will be injured. Just remember as bad as it seems it could be worse. Germany is going to lose the war, millions upon millions will die in horrible conditions and this is when it gets worse but you can change all that.'\n\n'Me? How and what could be worse than a war like you describe, the horror on his face, this could actually work!'\n\n'You are going to rise from the ashes; you are going to be the man to lead a new Germany. You will take it from the ruins and bring it to new heights, you will avenge, (I struggle for words) harder, better, faster, stronger. And this is where it goes wrong. You trigger a repeat, a world war 2 shall we say. Millions more will die, but this time more innocent civilians will die, they will starve to death, they will be shot, burned, tortured, executed... And it will be all on your orders. Cities will be wiped off maps. Maps will be filled with new names where emptiness once stood names of death camps, names of massacres, names where nameless countless numbers will be forgotten, will remain, will stay. And it will because of you and what you do.'\n\nHe has gone pale; he rests his head in his hands. How do you know it is me?\n\n'You are talked about in my time, everyone knows you and the horrors you unleashed on the world. From the youngest child to the old that fought against your military might everyone knows what you did.'\n\n'Do you understand me? Do you understand that you can change the world?'\n\nHe looks up, those piercing blue eyes showing evil, pure evil\n\n'Yes.... I'm going to be remembered.'\n\n\n_______________________________\n\nEdit for formatting and slight wording change", "\"You're basically the world's biggest dick dude\" I said, insistingly.\n\n\"But I have to get elected, I have to fix the German economy that the Jews have ruined!\" he rebutted, his rectangular moustache glared at me and looking at his face was surreal, he was different in person then the countless photos, films and books.\n\n\"Look, you are basically about to commit genocide I am telling you, why do you think I bothered to come all this way?\" \n\n\"Ok, ok, I won't aim to lead Germany in anyway I will take up fishing or something!\"\n\nI breathed a sigh of relief, he finally saw reason. I holstered the laser pen I was holding that I would have used to incinerate him if he refused, tilted my hat and walked away.\n\n----------------------\n\nThe return pad was ready to go as a blasted back to my time. When the flashing lights faded, I groggily looked at my commanding chief, I had returned. \n\n\"Did it work?\" he asked, his face too close to mine for my eyes to focus.\n\n\"I think so.\" I replied as his face slowly focused into view. I couldn't help but stare at his newly grown rectangular moustache.\n\n\"Whats with the moustache sir?\" I had to ask.\n\n\"Why, this is the Charlie Chaplin its come back into fashion again and my wife loves it, what do you think?\" he replied." ]	6
	[WP] An old wive's tale says that the moment you die, time slows down significantly for you so you can reflect on your life. Your moment has come...	[ "I lay alone in an empty hospital room, with no company but the endless beeping of the machine next to me. My heartbeat is slow, erratic, and I can feel my life slipping away by inches. \"It won't be long now,\" I told myself with labored breath. I couldn't help feeling relieved. I had lived a long life, and a full one. I had had friends and enemies, lovers, a good job, happy children... all gone now. It felt strange, to be the last one left. Such is life, I suppose.\n\nThe beeping began to slow, and I could feel myself fading away. \"At last...\" and then, it stopped. I opened my eyes and sat up. I felt suddenly alert, lucid, more lucid than I had been in years. I looked around, but nothing stirred in that empty hospital room. I stood up and looked back at the bed.\n\nI looked so frail. My eyes were hollow and sunken, my hands gripped the covers like claws. I watched the machine next to me as slowly, glacially, a green line ran across the screen, peaking slightly as it went. Not quite dead yet, then. The old tale was true. A moment of reflection, before the end. \n\nI stood in the center of the room and thought back over my life. I began nodding, pleased with myself. I prided myself on being honest, on being fair. I was confident that I deserved a reward for a life well lived. \n\nOr...did I? More memories began to surface, old and long forgotten. They left a foul taste in my mouth. The time I struck my wife. The only time, but still. How could I have forgotten that? The time I left on a business trip and forgot to leave food out for the cat. It had looked at me when I came back with pleading, starving eyes. I had felt so bad about that. The time I stole my brother's toy and broke it. I blamed my sister, and she was grounded for a week.\n\nThe memories came flooding back, faster and faster. As we live our lives, we tend to remember the good things about ourselves. The triumphs, the acts of kindness, the times when we looked good in the eyes of others. We try and forget the other times. The times when we were selfish and weak, when we took the easy way out, when we were vain and cruel. Our weaknesses and our mistakes are filtered out of our minds over the course of a busy life. And for the first time, I no longer had a filter.\n\nI sank to me knees as the memories overwhelmed me. All the times I used little cheats to get ahead, all the times when I stood by when others needed me, all the times when I was petty and small.\n\nI curled into a ball and wept, praying that the memories would end. And then, suddenly, they did. I lay there for what seemed like eternity, then slowly, painfully, I stood up. I looked over at the machine. As I watched, the line slowly flattened out, until there was no heartbeat at all. I had died.\n\nI felt him come in behind me, like a cold draft on a hot summer's day. I turned to look at him.\n\nHe was tall, and thin, but nowhere near as...skeletal as I imagined. He wore a somber black suit, and his eyes were grey as the sea. He smiled sadly at me.\n\n\"Hello Eric.\"\n\n\"Erm, hello.\" I rocked back and forth on my heels, trying to think of something to say. The man waited patiently.\n\n\"Sooo, you're death then?\" I asked after the silence had grown painfully long.\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\n\"What happens next then?\"\n\n\"Now we decide where you go next.\"\n\nI nodded sagely. I had expected this. \"Is there some kind of judgement?\" Death smiled then, in what seemed to be genuine amusement.\n\n\"Oh yes.\" I took a deep breath. \n\n\"Alright, I'm ready.\"\n\n\"It's already over.\" I frowned, caught off guard.\n\n\"What? I don't get to plead my case?\"\n\n\"You already have. There is a judgement, Eric. A judgement of your sins. And who knows your sins better than you yourself?\"\n\n\"That...that was my judgement? The moment of reflection?\"\n\n\"That's right. Now...where do you think you should go? Where do you belong?\"\n\nThe answer was on the tip of my tongue. Heaven, of course. I was a god-fearing Christian after all, it was my due. I opened my mouth to say it, and paused. Death looked at me expectantly.\n\nDid I really deserve it? I remembered the dark memories, which had thankfully receded. I had tried to live a good life, but I was flawed. Had I lived a good enough life? Maybe I deserved hell, or a second go-around. A second chance to correct my mistakes. \"What if I don't know?\" I said, slowly.\n\n\"I can wait. We have all the time in the world here.\"\n\nHe sat down on the floor and pulled out a pack of cards. After a moment's hesitation I followed suit and sat down. I don't know how long we sat there, as I mulled over my choice. It felt like hours, but at the same time I suspect that in a very real sense no time passed at all. I cleared my throat, and Death looked up expectantly from his game of solitaire. \"I've decided.\"\n\n\"That's good. Eric?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Take my hand.\" He extended his long, bony hand towards me. I took it, and together we walked out of that hospital room and into the world beyond.", "Images and visions flashed quickly through my minds eye, and I saw all of them. The memory would swoop in, stay for a brief instant, and then suddenly vanish to be replaced by another. Pain. Anger. Hurt. There were no happy memories. Only sorrow and sadness, grief and loathing. \n\nSecond grade: I'm lying on my back, the leaves in the tree that towered above me quivering. A sharp, searing pain erupted at my hip. Broken legs. \n\nSeventh grade: Asphalt and gravel turned into cement and then dirt as I slid down a steep road and tumbled over the sidewalk and onto a lawn. Broken arm, lacerations on my lower-back, blood covering my vision. The only thought that filled my mind was that the pain was too much. It filled my body and overcame any discipline of mind or body. Just pain. \n\nTwelfth grade: All I can see is flashing lights and glittering glass shards. Somebody yells my name. Joel's dead, he's sprawled out over the dashboard, head twisted at an odd angle. Just staring at me. \n\nTwenty-three years old -- wait, back to twelfth grade: Joel's eyes are empty. The smell of gasoline is filling my nostrils. Somebody yells my name again. Joel. Joel is dead. \n\nTwenty-three years old: Grandma's lying on her bed, skin taught and eyes closed. Dead. \n\nThirty-two: Ma's dead, so is Dad. Car accident. Grief. Sorrow. Pain. Searing, unfathomable pain. \n\nAnd then there were no memories, and I realized the truth. My life hadn't flashed before my eyes for me to review, for me to think back fondly on. Every time I had hurt myself, or experienced sorrow and sadness, my brain knew how to cope. When I broke my arm, it remembered the day I lay under the tree with broken legs. When Ma and Dad died, it remembered Grandma. Joel. But this, death--dying, it couldn't cope, it hadn't experienced it. It had failed. Blackness slowly began to encroach the borders of my vision. This was it. \n\nAnd I didn't fear anymore. There was no fear, no anger, hate, hope, love, sadness, loyalty or respect. There was no courage, or honor, and loathing. There was only regret. \n " ]	2
	[WP] Write a prophecy about a chosen one.	[ "In a world where darkness and fire reigns, a light will arise. Its glow will penetrate the shroud of evil permeated by the world's inhabitants, and rise to the top, bringing back the golden age that once oversaw this land. \n\nThe light will come in the form of a child, with barely 7 moons on its belt. Young and inexperienced it may be, but the world is nothing without the child. Only it will vanish the evil in this god forsaken land. \n\nOn the seventh day of the seventh month, will we see a sign from this child. It will awaken the forces of good that have been dormant so long; powerful, ancient forces whose names are long forgotten. But arise they will, their might rivaling the giants of the old. \n\nThe child will lead them. Death is written in its fate and death will come but how or in what form, we do not know. The light will tell us all. \n", "When the wayward son is wounded\nA human child shall soon be found, near the place of his defeat. The new dragon queen she shall be.\n\nGifted with the power to speak with animals of all kinds\nShe is a healer and a teacher of magic\nNever seen by even the wisest eyes.\n\nShe alone will have the power \nTo turn the tide of the never ending war\nHer love is her sword that will wound the evil man\nAs embers of her power heal the tainted land\n\nHearts will be broken\nAs her words, softly spoken\nOn that early winter morn\nShall be remembered\nForevermore\n\nThen Hell's heart,\nSo brave, so bold\nShall turn as cold\nAs mountain stone.\n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
That's the actual title of an article in the Guardian. It turns out to be about a buddha statue allegedly carved in a meteorite that was stolen by the nazis. Surely you guys can come up with a less disappointing explanation. http://www.theguardian.com/science/2012/oct/24/nazi-buddha-statue-space-fake	[WP] Nazi buddha from space might be a fake	[ "The news came flooding out. It turns out the Nazis hadn't pre-programmed a Buddha-esque death robot and put it on the moon. When the general public had heard the original specifications: laser eyes, rockets for hands, lasers for fingers, rockets for hair, a big belly that contains a nuclear bomb more powerful that six Hiroshimas, lasers for hair somehow as well as the rockets, knives for eyelashes, a swastika for a face, facial hair even Adolf himself would be envious of and a speaker system that would intermittently play 'It's A Small World' from that Disney ride, they'd cowered in fear.\n\n\nObviously, the Nazis were bad. Some might say really bad. Actually, upon reflection, most would say really bad. But the public could never have predicted something of this magnitude coming back in time and doing a big kill on everyone on Earth. \n\n\nThe first warning was a statuette of Buddha being uncovered, after falling from the skies. It looked hundreds of years old to scientists. Theories popped up left, right and center- especially center because that's where everyone was looking for the theories. \n\n\n'Maybe Hitler went back in time and became the symbol of peace and then threw a Buddha statue into the air really hard and it went into space?', 'What if Goering was actually a bird and one day he put a helmet on and flew into space and then dropped the statue off on Mars?', 'I think Goebbels lubed himself up with Vaseline and slid down a big hill on his front and then went up a ramp into space and put that Buddha statue in a star with the power of religion.', the crackpots would theorize.\n\n\nHowever, it all came to a head when a top research scientist studying the statue pulled the string that was on the back of the figure and a squeaky German voice said: \"Vee are zee moon Buddha Nazi Death Guard, get veady to feel zee vrath of our big fuck-off Deass Buddha!'. It was at this point that the USA Government ruled that the whole situation was just too wacky. The project was shut down, and a shuttle was sent into space to examine the moon. They found nothing.\n\n\nThe President wrung her hands. Clearly the Space Nazis had perfected cloaking technology. That's when the red phone on her desk rung. She picked up.\n\n\n\"Hello? This is a bad time.\" she whispered hoarsely.\n\n\n\"Sorry I know, but this is Julian's mum. He's told me that a big kerfuffle over Nazi Buddha statue has been going on, and that he intricately hand carved and programmed the statue to say something odd. Don't worry, he's very sorry and promises not to do that again. Thank you!\"\n\n\nThe President put down the phone sharply, but so sharply the she accidentally put it on the 'Fire The Nukes All Up In Russia Or Chinas Or Milan Or Something' button. MAD was obviously ensured, and everyone died. The writer felt a little bad about writing such a stupid ending to his story, but he had to going and hang the washing out so figured it was the best he could do.", "\"I don't believe it Bill,\" Jeff whispered, his flashlight pointed on the stone fatman.\n\n\"Neither do I Jeff,\" Bill squinted, trying to make out the details on the rounded face.\n\n\"You think it's a joke?\" Jeff took a few cautionary steps towards the statue, making sure not to slip down the crater. \"Like, do you think someone just set some explosives and left it for us to find? I mean, it is sitting perfectly...\" Bill looked over his companion incredulously.\n\n\"Jeff, we both saw that thing come crashing down from the sky, saw the burning grass and clumps of dirt shoot into the air, there's no way this is a joke\" Bill chose not to follow his friend, instead throwing small bits of rock at the statue.\n\n\"Hey! it's got a swastika on it! This things a Nazi!\" Jeff frantically looked around, trying to find a culprit.\n\n\"What? It's a Buddha, I heard that he used that symbol waaay before Hitler got it\" Bill stepped forward slightly trying to get a clearer look.\n\n\"Yeah, but did they have German and shit written on them? I actually think it's wearing a uniform, this is some sort of space Nazi Buddha!\" Jeff ran back up the crater wall to drag Bill down, \"come on, look!\"\n\n\"Do you really... really think that there are space Nazi's throwing Buddhas down from the sky? Jeff, learn to think about the situation. Some kids probably messed around with a statue and set it up, it's fine\" Bill threw his arms up and sighed, tired of ordeal. Jeff too sighed, and moved out of the crater.\n\n\"Yeah... I guess you're right, let's leave it for now and grab it tomorrow.\" Bill nodded at the suggestion and the two made back towards their home.\n\nIn the dust of their footsteps, an ominous glow was emitted, as the Buddhas eye's blinked open with a malicious grin. Standing at his full height, the pacifist racist let out a bellowing laugh. Phase one had ended. " ]	2
	[WP] Use the number 7 or 4	[ "Seven was sat down at the cold, metal table. The table was oddly representative of the world that he lived in. Sharp, cold, unforgiving, a bitch. The cop, his former friend, Four, handed him his requested last meal. It was a simple meal: a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. Seven did not particularly like PB&J sandwiches, but they reminded him of a simpler time before all of this happened. He looked at Four to crack a joke, but when he saw the look in his eyes he knew that Four didn't want to here it. All he wanted to hear was Seven's screams as he pulled the lever. Seven wasn't angry with him. After all, he had killed Four's wife Nine. Well, he had done more than that. In face he, Seven, eight Nine.", "Luck number, big winner\n\nPlace my bet before they spin ‘er\n\nPlace it all the fortune said\n\nOn the first number in your head\n\nAnd just as if it was sent from heaven\n\nI saw in my mind the number seven\n\nBut soon I’m rocked to my core\n\nAnd now I’m crying on the floor\n\nThey are throwing me out the door\n\nForever destined to be poor\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe ball landed on number four" ]	2
I like fiction.	[WP] You go to sleep one night, the next morning you wake up up as Hitler on April 30th, 1945 in the Führerbunker. You are aware of who you are.	[ "I wake up fully aware of what has happened to me. I. Am. HITLER .\nAs days go by I miss my family of my former self even more, I take out my emotions on others that don't deserve the pain I'm putting them through. But I can't control it, the urge to see my family is unbearable, I'm slowly becoming more sad and less destructive. It's been weeks since I've talked to anyone, I need my family back!\nThis is it, I cannot handle this constant struggle of what is considered life, I've tried to contact my family but no success, I can't handle this loneliness. This is the end. I can't take it anymore pulls out pistol I love you mom pulls trigger\n\n\n[This is my first attempt at a WP response, so any creative criticism is welcome. Also not very familiar with my hitter history, so I'm unsure what he killed himself with or what date the suicide happened]\n\nEdit: Just re-re-read over it, yeah... it's kinda shit, but y'know what they say, \"you can never succeed if you don't try\". Or some shit like that", "It was after the third time asking what language we were speaking that I realized I may have finally found out what happens if you drink too much jaegermeister.\n\n\"So let me get this straight.\" I said, laughing, \"I'm... Hitler?\"\n\n\"I don't think he's feeling alright.\" Some girl said.\n\n\"No, seriously. Okay. You! That dude. What's your name?\" I said to the guy in front of me.\n\n\"General Weidling Sir? Have you forgotten? I must insist that we have received news that we are running out of munitions, sir. We're probably not going to make the night. You've refused to let us surrender. I'm begging you, sir. Surrender.\" Weidling pleaded.\n\nI laughed, \"Holy crap, this is awesome. Drink too much, and I get the best present God could throw at me. I get to kill Hitler.\" I turned to Weidling, who looked really worried. \"Yeah, dude. Knock yourself out. Go. Run\"\n\nAs he left, I turned to see the girl swallow a pill of some kind.\n\n\"Oh, shit, you have drugs?\" I said, \"Killer!\" However, the fact of the matter was that statement became very literal as she hit the ground.\n\n\"Oh, great. Well, at least I didn't kill anyone.\" I said, \"Oh wait, I did, but that's.. well... hitler.. and all...\"\n\nThere was a gun on the table, I took it, \"Well, here's to waking up tomorrow and hoping this will be nothing more than a bad hangover. And besides, I get to be the dude who killed Hitler.\" And with that, angels sang me to my rest. With a bullet." ]	2
	[WP] The world has electrified and everyone has mobile devices, but the only source of power generation that hasn't gone over to ruin are solar panels. During the day, society is new and modern, but everything turns off at night.	[ "Rechargable lithium batteries. If you're looking to buy or to sell, I'm the person to talk to about it. Complete discretion, too. Of course, the price reflects this; police bribes aren't cheap. Just make sure if you use them, nobody knows about it. Blackout curtains, doors closed. Don't go blabbing. If they know about it, they'll ask you about it, and I don't want you telling them anything about me. Not that I'm telling you anything. Not my name, not my source (though maybe you're smart, maybe you can guess that). Nothing. And I ain't asking either. I don't care what you want them for, mobile phones, old handheld video games, even just lighting to read or knit by, whatever. (Though if it's lighting, bud, why not just buy candles? They're legal and about fraction of the price, sure, they're over £10 per tealight these days, more for the scented ones, but it's better than half a million for a battery, right?)\n\nThat's the spiel. Or, you know, sort of. Key point is, I can get batteries if you're buying and I'll find a buyer if you're selling. It's good money too, though I'm careful with spending it. Spending it is how you get caught. One of the ways, anyway. One of my suppliers got caught another way. Led me down real bad last month too. She was an idiot; now she's on death row. Serves her right for getting caught.\n\nI was waiting the other side of the car park, under a tree. Invisible in the dark; one of the good things about the whole thing. The light from the hospital didn't reach me. Not much is let out; they cover the windows with mirrors to make the most of the light, so only a little gets out round the edges. Besides, people complain about light pollution. They're used to the darkness at night now, and any light at all is considered a nuisance, even if it is a hospital.\n\nThe first I knew something was wrong was when the lights on the whole top floor went out. She wasn't meant to take one that would be noticed right away. Rule one, be invisible. Take batteries from some an ignored ward with an ancient codger in a coma in, or from a fridge in a store room nobody even goes in most of the time. Never one that's powering the lights to a whole damn floor. Security will be on that in two seconds. They're everywhere at night; it's cheaper to hire sixty goons to stand around checking passes all night than use the precious juice on those batteries to power electronic security doors.\n\nWhen I heard the helicopter, it was time to get out of there. I'd cased the area in the days before - that's rulee two. Always know your escape route if something goes wrong. From where I stood it was left turn, four paces forward, veer left - and check for the tree to the right - then forward eighteen paces. Find the wall with my hand and follow it to the gate, thirty nine paces. When I reached the gate, the noise of the copter became louder, suddenly, like it had come out from behind another building. I glanced back just as it switched on its huge search light, pointed at the hospital roof. It was so bright some of the reflected light reached me, so I slipped through the gate and back into the darkness. Quite a few batteries worth of power in that.\n\nAnd that was that. Next day it was all over the news: St Hilda's Hospital Heist was the headline. One arrested, and I found out her real name for the first time: Elizabeth Gibbons, an unemployed former bar manager (lots of those these days, given the circumstances). Two security guards being questioned; the bribes I'd paid them wasted, then, if they were the same ones. None of them knew anything about me, of course, beyond a made-up name and what I'd pay. The buyer would understand; I'd state the need for patience, see if I could get hold of \"Oz\", the guy I'd worked with before Ms Gibbons had come on the scene and dazzled me with her low rates and impressive resume.\n\nIn the paper this morning, the one that announced that, trial over, Ms Gibbons was sentenced to death for theft of lithium batteries from a hospital, the Prime Minister announced new powers to the police - and more funding - to tackle battery theft. More helicopters, funding to provide batteries for security cameras on hospitals, including heat cameras. No more standing unseen in the trees for me.\n\nCandle prices are up again too. £10.40 for a standard tealight now, £20.67 for an eight-hour tall candle. Maybe I should get out of the battery business and get into the candle business. Less risky.", "I had done all I could so she would forget her last bus and the sun that was about to set. Watching her twirl and dance to the music and smile each time she caught my eye made me feel more human than I had in a long time. I longed to be alone with her without the constant stream of information and entertainment showering down upon us.\n\nAs the lights started to dim and the barman shouted the last call she forgot her drink and panic jumped onto her face.\n\n“I didn’t realize the time.” She said looking at her phone. “How will I get home with everything off? We were having such a lovely time I completely forgot!”\n\n“Don’t worry Kate.” I smiled and placed my hand upon hers. “I live close by, we can walk home and you can stay in my guest bedroom. There’s no need for our day to end just because the sun sets.”\n\nShe looked conflicted but my smile and touch seemed to convinced her. It was about an hours walk to my house. By the time we had left the town the stars were shining bright and a warm breeze brought the scent of wild flowers through our hair.\n\nThere was the same silence as every other night but now it felt different - I finally could share it with someone. Hand in hand we walked along the road looking up at the milky way glowing in front of us. Pointing out constellations and reminiscing about our time as children playing in the fields. \n\nI brought her to the willow tree on the bank of the brook that flows near my house. We talked for what seemed like hours, our backs on the cool long grass, listening to the soft flow of water. We talked about our past, our goals, our triumphs and our failures. \n\nStill, I felt my hand reaching for my phone to look up a name I forgot or a picture I had taken. It was difficult to break the habit but I was glad when the black screen met me each time I pulled it out. It was nice to just be here in the present - to not need anything else.\n\nI haven’t seen her face in years but I often long after those long quiet nights. For some reason they felt more real than any day I have lived since.\n\n---\nIf you enjoyed this check out my subreddit at /r/thewritinghabit", "Boy Age 12 Discovers Power Source for Nighttime Illumination\n\nMartin Baggins, age 12, from Portland, OR discovers a new use for old mobile devices. He, through his entrepreneurial father, has coordinated with a factory in China to disassemble old mobile devices for their batteries. The batteries are repackaged into small boxes which can be charged during the day and used at night to provide power for lights and other electrical uses. \n\nThe used batteries, while no longer efficient enough for mobile device use, are ideal for energy storage for nighttime home lighting. One box will last for about 3 hours of moderate use. The first units are slated to go on sale in three months and have a price point of $99 for a standard version, and $159 for an extended use box also suitable for powering TVs. \n\nPlans are in the works to start up a new battery factory in China specially for these \"Nightlight\" boxes. These plan to be on sale starting next year and will feature factory fresh batteries for extended nighttime power in a smaller package. \n\nElon Musk, former CEO of Tesla, is quoted as saying \"Doh, why didn't I think of this?\" After exclaiming that \"...the idea is so simple only a child would have thought of it.\" \n\n--Associated Press", "I'm only free during the night.\n\nIt's an exhilarating feeling, to be out in the streets (just myself and the stars) with the world tinted silver by moonlight. I walk when the world is quiet. Nobody is awake at night when the lights are off -- nobody except for me. That's one thing I like about the night: it feels like I am important, powerful enough for my footsteps to be heard.\n\nThe other thing is that night is the only time I get to go beyond the city. The solar-powered tracker engraved in my left wrist has been monitoring me since I was born, keeping me a prisoner of technology and electricity. But I discovered that it shuts off during night. Every time I climb over the City Border, I think, I fucking won; I fucking beat the system.\n\nAt night, my shoes leave the cold, hard cement and touch the softness of grass beyond the border. Instantly, the scent of the city leaves me and instead I am greeted by the scent of nature, of a world without angles and edges and steel. The scent that none of the other citizens have smelled. A few more steps and I am at the river, and a few more after that--\n\nAn unending field of flowers -- big and little, slender and tall. Dark flowers, spotted flowers. Regular circles and abstract patterns. The moonlit profiles of angels and innocence. They are so pretty, and I can't help but wonder if flowers are blue or red or orange. \n\nPity I can't see what they look like during the day.\n\n" ]	4
	[WP] You receive a time traveler from 1915 for the next year. You control everything he/she does, and show the extent of the world or the worst part. You choose the latter.	[ "She ran crying to the bed, trying to shut it out of her ears. She was crying. Why was she crying? For she came to me a few nights ago, and I had no idea what to do. She was just there, and I thought she was an angel or something. I put her to bed, and she rested, but when she awoke, it went all wrong...\n\n\"What... have you done to music?\" She whispered. She was afraid.\n\n\"I didn't do it myself, ma'am.\" I said, sadly. \"I really didn't. You're here now, won't you look outside?\" I said, gesturing to the open window where fresh air was coming in.\n\nShe looked, saw, understood, didn't, then did, then didn't. then did. Then, as I expected SHE really didn't get it. She came towards me and hugged me, crying.\n\n\"What is this? This is the future?\" She cried.\n\nI glanced up, \"Yes.\" I had to make sure my talking was right because if I used colloquialisms of our time, man or woman, they'd be daft as hell. So starting out simply seemed my best bet.\n\n\"Look, you might want to know that humanity has just kinda been ridiculous and stupid with itself. Especially in the arts. It's a letdown, I know. But know I appreciate your... age..\"\n\nShe turned to me, \"Can you get my music?\" She looked me dead in the eye. \n\n\"Yes. Just... Let me..\" I said, typing a bit on my keyboard.\n\n\"You're a pretty good typwriter, you know. Pretty good thing to know. Or is it?\" She said silently to me and herself. She looked at my keyboard with some interest.\n\nI pulled up a page on the internet about 1950s music, something, anything.\n\n\"Fifties!?\" She kind of gasped a bit at my error behind me. She was reading over my shoulder.\n\n1915s. Yes. There we go. After a stupid fucking ad, clicked that off. Fuck.\n\n\"Let me Call you Sweetheart\" was the result and it played, it sounded like something from really a long far away. I sat in my chair, tense. \n\nMoments went by, she said nothing, she was right behind me, right? Wait.. I turned around...\n\nShe was dancing the waltz by herself, with the rain outside just dimly lighting her body. I stood up, stepped over, she looked at me, gave a little nod, then I tried to dance with her for a while. It was wonderous. I can't imagine a better time for us, really. \n\n\"Music changes.\" She said.\n\n\"Yes. People do too.\" I said sadly.\n\nShe lifted up my chin, \"Your world must be much better than mine.\"\n\nWith a flick of a switch, I let her see the incoming news. Showed her what would happen in her future. I thought she would be destroyed.\n\nAfter 20 minutes, she just walked to the corner of my apartment and sat. Looking up.\n\n\"So...\" She said.\n\n\"Yeah.\" I said, \"That's how it is now.\"\n\n\"That many people?\" She asked.\n\n\"I thought we'd do more.\" She said.\n\n", "I was sitting when i met him, he was completely buck naked. He kept going on about how he had been a part of a new experiment. \"They've lost me! Oh god im gone forever!\" He would wail. \n\nI mean, i've had my bad nights, right? This guy probably had a bad night, the bars had all just closed. \"Let's get you a cab, man. Do you remember your address?\"\n\n\"Ne- No.. Please help me stranger, I will forever be in your debt.\"\n\n\"Okay buddy just calm down, get in my car and i'll get you some clothes.\"\n\nWe drove the 5 minutes to my apartment, he was in utter shock and awe the entire time. This kid wouldn't even speak to me, he just sat there covered in that towel the bartender handed me when he spotted me in the street with him. I sat him down and gave him a change of clothes, noticing just how much of a kid this kid was. \"25, that was when I signed up\"\n\n25! I couldn't believe it. This guy probably had never stepped out in the sun with that complexion. I left him til the morning. Woke him up with coffee and biscuits, effects which he seemed accustomed too. His face was much softer now, less in shock, and his smile was beginning to show though his tight lips. His jack black hair hung long down his face, I was in shock after how he looked last night. \n\n\"Thank you for the breakfast, my name's Adam. I'm a travelling artist. I paint and am currently writing a book.\"\n\n\"Hold up Adam, what happened last night? You didn't seem too drunk, but had to be to streak across that street at 3 in the morning.\"\n\n\"I can't tell you, I don't even know myself. Yesterday I was in a world much different than this. Much simpler and wider, much purer and cleaner\"\n\n\"And what happened?\"\n\n\"They sent me to the future, to see if we won. To see how we've progressed as a race\" \n\n\"That's crazy!\"\n\n\"No, it's science.\" His smile was beaming at this point \"Where are we currently?\"\n\n\"Texas, we're in Houston actually. I teach history to highschool kids. \n\n\"That's very surprising, sir.... i'm sorry, what was your name?\"\n\n\"Abel\" I extended my hand to him and we shook \"Nice to meet you, Adam\"\n\nThat year with him was a good one. I showed him the wonders of the world, we just spent time together and enjoyed life. I began calling him brother after not too long, it's crazy - you spend so much time with someone you think you know them so well... It didn't take long for me to realize he was just following my motions. \n\n\"Abel, what is the worst part of this world you live in. Everything I have seen has been so great, but my time isn't infinite here. What should I fear the most? Is anything bad in this paradise? These animals are plentiful. Acres and acres of land, we could wander for days here. You don't realize how much this past year has been with you, just living together and having fun, let's go to the skatepark after we drop your check off\"\n\n\"Alright man, i'm down\" Just then a Volkswagen cut me off in traffic. \"Fuck you! God damn jews.\"\n\n\"Fuck bitches like that man, don't ever drive like that haha... Adam?\"\n\nI looked in my passenger seat and it was completely empty. He was gone. \n\nIt wasn't until monday at work when It was made clear to me. We were studying WW2 in class and we started on Mein Kampf and Hitler's childhood. When I opened the book however, it was changed. No longer did the classroom edition have a photo of Hitler and his brother on the inside cover, but him and a different man. When I looked to the tie this man was wearing I froze. A yellow and blue checkered tie. I left the room and changed.\n\nI showed this man the good of the world in one year, but all along; all I had to do was look to him to see the worst part of it. " ]	2
	[WP] "In fact, one of my best friends is a zombie."	[ "Well, that's one way to find out that your SO is a zombie.\n\nSee, I'd gone to meet her at her work; she's a nurse on the Neurosurgical recovery ward. Only, I'd gone and surprised her by turning up one day. She was eating the pinkish matter, with small amounts of Worcester sauce on. Only, I know we didn't have the sauce at home, and she was hunched over someone's head; they were bleeding from there.\n\nSo I ran out of there, unable to speak of the horror I had just seen.\n\n* * * * * \n\nThat evening, we'd sat down and talked about what had gone on. She explained that she'd been in a trial for a drug for a rare medical condition. But the drug had had a side-effect - it had stopped her heart and lungs. She'd died.\n\nAnd then, she hadn't. Can you imagine waking up at your own funeral? I can't. But she did. And she was hungry. She's very dominant, but this condition...well, it's not contagious, that's* for sure! We've been together ten years now, married for three. And apart from the whole \"not technically alive\" thing, we're strong together.\n\nShe does all the heavy lifting, of course.", "It began with a simple enough idea: \"What else will they eat?\"\n\n15 months after the outbreak I had carved out a modest existence. After my group killed our way out of Orlando, we decided to head north to Atlanta figuring the CDC would maybe have this mess figured out.\n\nThe herd thinned quickly. Carl got bit while taking a piss late one night and didn't tell anyone. He got Sheryl and Paul before we stopped him. Joe couldn't take losing Sheryl and offed himself a week later. That left Lisa and myself before that ended as well.\n\nAfter Lisa was gone I had no desire to be around people. I found a farm near the state line that had been abandoned. There was enough pickles and fig preserves to get me through the winter and enough land and tools that I was going to try my hand at growing something. There was a pond that I hoped had fish and a hunting rifle with enough ammo to kill a deer a week for decades.\n\nBest of all, no people. It was far enough off the main roads and small enough to not be a place anyone wanted. And the seclusion meant there were no Dead.\n\nUntil that day.\n\nIt came lumbering up around lunchtime that day. I would guess it would have been a college student in life. I had plenty of warning and got the rifle to check him out with the scope. My finger curled around the trigger, but for whatever reason I stopped.\n\nI waited until it approached and noticed me. Before it could come after me I threw a pickle at it.\n\nIt stopped for a moment but continued to approach. I threw some fish at it. The same reaction. Then I had a last idea before I decided to stop the experiment. On the porch was a large pickle jar I had filled with pond water. I had begun using it as a live well for fish that I could eat the next day. It had been easy enough to catch them lately so I stuffed my hand in and snatched out the Brim and tossed it at the Dead, hitting it in the chest.\n\nIt stopped, but instead of returning it's attention to me, it went after the foundering creature. It's motor skills weren't as good as mine so I amused myself watching it fumble with the fish for a good 10 minutes before finally gripping it in it's hands and chomping down on it's spine.", "Look, I should probably say that I'm not against zombies. It's not their fault that they're like that, I suppose. I think zombies can, in certain circumstances, be proud, upstanding members of society. In fact, one of my best friends is a zombie. You could barely tell he was undead! But zombies, let's face it, are far more likely to commit cannibalism and murder, 99.7% more in fact. It's time to stand up for the rights of the living- for the children taken off the streets and killed, for the men and women risking their lives every day to protect us. We are outnumbered. We go to work every day knowing it could be our last, when zombies don't even have to go to a food bank- they grab their free meals off the street. Is this right? Is this fair? I have nothing against the undead, I have everything against freeloaders. ", "Gary was trying and failing to dig himself out of a hole.\n\n“What do you mean, ‘One of my best friends is a zombie’?” The girl in front of him was not amused. “You think I’m offended because I’m a zombie? For your information, you can not be a zombie and still not like the “B” word.” \n\n“No, I-”\n\n“Let me finish,” she snapped. With one hand on her waist and her other pointed toward Gary she continued. “For your information, I’m not a zombie. That’s your own bigotry and prejudice showing.”\n\n“I’m really sor-”\n\n“Stop vitarrupting,” Gary realized she was the kind of girl who used “vitarrupting” unironically and his heart sank a bit. He kept digging. “For your information, it’s very rude…”\n\nGary finished pulling himself out of the hole and turned to free the rest of his cape. He carefully slinked off while the skeleton girl was still lecturing; she would eventually realize he was no longer there and become further incensed, but her lack of eyes made it easy for him to retreat. Vitarrupting, he thought. What kind of idiot thinks someone climbing OUT OF a grave is alive? He resolved to move out of the graveyard ASAP. Maybe find a Frankenstein or something, anything to get away from the damn skeletons and ~~brain-eaters~~ zombies.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nEdit: formatting, clarity" ]	4
	[WP] "I used to love the sky."	[ "His gnarled hands grazed mine as he reached for the warm mug of tea. With a heavy sigh, he grasped it. I could feel the comforting warmth leave my hands and transfer into his.\n\n\"Thank you, child,\" he said in the gentlemanly manner he always had. It was a voice that revealed the many years of experience he had lived. I settled back into the stiff chair that I had propped up next to his. \"Now where was I?\" he wondered aloud to himself. \n\n\"After the war, sir,\" I heard myself respond. The red camera light blinked at me and I readjusted my notepad. It wasn't my first interview with an old war veteran for my class project but it was definitely quickly turning into one of my favorites.\n\n\"Ah yes, the war. You see, Darcy and I agreed that if I survived and returned, well... in her words, when I returned,\" he allowed himself a quiet chuckle. \"We would be married. And that's just what we did.\" He took a sip of the tea. His eyes still shone with the bright light of intelligence under his heavy white brows and the wrinkled lids. Those lids sagged as if being dragged down by the weight of life itself. \n\n\"We married under the sky. The bright blue sky that matched her eyes so perfectly. Yes. It was beautiful. I always told her that the angels probably accidentally left part of the sky and the heavens in those eyes...\" he trailed off again. His own brown eyes now gazed off into the distance, out the window and into the cloudless blue sky with the sun that lit the room now. \"So beautiful...\" he whispered and I knew he wasn't talking about the sky anymore.\n\nI allowed myself a quick glance at the portrait hanging above the old piano in the corner. It was a painting depicting a beautiful young woman with auburn curls falling gently around her pale face. She was lovely but what really made her beautiful were indeed the light blue eyes. They shone, even in the painting, with mischievous happiness. Her red lips tilted upwards just the slightest bit as if she were ready to laugh at her latest prank. \n\nI quickly returned my attention back to the elderly man before I became completely entranced by the woman in the painting. \"Sir,\" I prodded gently. He didn't move, lost in his vast reserve of memories. \"Sir,\" I said slightly louder. He blinked and looked back down at his tea. There was a sadness about him now.\n\n\"Yes, I'm sorry. I was just remembering her again. You see, I can't tell you my full story without telling you hers as well.\" I nodded, slowly realizing what he really meant. It wasn't just his story, it was theirs. \"Those days were beautiful. The war was still happening but we were a young couple happily married. Darcy wanted to get out of the city though. We had everything there but she said she wanted to be out in the country.\" He sighed again.\n\n\"She said she wanted to be under the sky and she wanted our kids to be able to breathe without all of the city's pollution,\" his lips curved into a sad smile. \"That's what got me. Kids.\" He shook his head. \"We were still young but she was ready to start a family. And I was ready to do just about anything for her. We packed our things and moved out into the countryside. It was beautiful out there. Peaceful.\"\n\nAnother slow slip of tea. \"The first year, we had our son, Grayson. He was just the happiest little boy you ever did see and the best part was was he had her eyes. Such a strong baby, or so we thought. The next year, he was taken by the Whooping Cough.\" He shook his head. \"We buried him under the sky and Darcy near about broke.\" I could see the pain return to his face as if the boy died all over again. He saw that I noticed and quickly tried to smooth out his features once again. \n\n\"Two more years went by and Darcy visited that grave everyday. I would watch her leave while I farmed. She would go no matter the weather, saying her baby was crying for her. I let her go. We all mourn differently and I knew that. That was my mistake,\" he said tearfully. It took him a moment to regain his composure. The corners of his lips tugged down and I could see the muscles of his jaws clenching as he fought the tears.\n\nHe set the empty tea cup down on the table that stood between us. I noticed a small framed picture with the same woman from the painting inside. She was almost unrecognizable, not from physical appearance but from the expression she held. Gone were the bright eyes of joy, replaced by grief. I shuddered at the change.\n\n\"After the third year, she was pregnant again. She still visited Grayson's grave each day. On the days I would go with her, she would rub her belly and speak to the two children. She was so excited for the new baby and I thought it would make it easier for her to let Grayson go.\"\n\nI could picture the woman from the painting, belly swollen from pregnancy, waiting excitedly in anticipation for the small life within her. \"Did it?\" I asked. He nodded.\n\n\"It did at first. She still visited the grave every day but I began warning her of the dangers to the new baby. It was such a long walk up the hills to visit Grayson. When the snow came, it became dangerous. I worried for her safety as well as the babies and she soon realized that I was right. Her visits became less frequent but whenever the weather and I allowed, she would still go.\"\n\nI wondered how worried he must have felt, farming by himself to try and provide a life for his family. \"When it was finally time for the baby, the doctor told us something was wrong. The umbilical cord was wrapped around the baby's neck and by the time they realized and got him out, he was dead.\" He took a shaky breath again.\n\n\"I can still remember the blood covered body, small enough to fit in the crook of my arm...\" he whispered. It was so quiet that I couldn't help but wonder if the camera could even pick it up. \"It was horrible but what happened after was worse.\" \n\nI could feel him aching in pain, not because of his weary bones or failing heart, but from the pain of living such a long life. \"Darcy couldn't handle losing a second child. We buried the baby next to Grayson but we also buried a piece of her mind. She visited them day after day again, sometimes staying late into the night until I went to get her.\"\n\n\"When I had time, I would sit quietly with her. She would talk to the children about anything and everything. Usually, it was just the weather though. She would describe the sky to them and then say how silly it was of her to do so when they must be flying around there with all the other angels.\"\n\n\"I knew it would be a long time before she recovered but I always thought she would. I always thought my Darcy would come back to me.\" I kept silent. \"But she never did.\"\n\n\"She got worse and worse, staying entire days with the two graves. I would find her lying next to them, looking up at the sky and mumbling about how it was her fault. It was because of her eyes that God had taken them. She had convinced herself that the angels truly did make a mistake in giving her the eyes of the sky and heaven and because the children had her eyes, the angels were jealous. The angels wanted their pieces of heaven back.\" \n\n\"I did that to her. It was me. It was because I had always told her that her eyes were from the sky that she thought that,\" he choked back a sob. There was nothing I could do but watch the man go through the pain once again. It was tough to watch but I knew it wasn't my place to intrude upon his feeling anymore than I already was. \n\n\"I was so worried about her but I had to keep farming to make sure we could have a future. I thought we would have another chance. Another baby. I thought she would get better.\"\n\n\"One day, I went to find her at the graves and saw that she was carrying something in her arms. She was rocking it back and forth and to my horror, I saw that she had stolen someone else's baby. She didn't want to let it go but I made her. I found the parents and apologized profusely to them. There was yelling but mostly they were just thankful that I had returned their baby.\n\n\"After that, I knew I had to watch her closer but the crops weren't coming in like they were supposed to. I didn't have time to watch both and so I picked the farm. I would spend all day working on the farm and all night trying to talk Darcy into coming back home with me. It was so tiring.\"\n\n\"There was a night where it was storming and I almost didn't go to get her. I was so tired trying to save the crop and making sure our house didn't flood. Yes, so tired. But still, I couldn't leave her out there. When I found her though, she was holding something again. I was worried it was a baby but what I found was worse. She had killed a cat, someone's pet, and carried it like it was her baby. When I asked her why she said it was because the angels wanted their heaven back.\"\n\n\"I didn't understand until I saw its eyes. They were blue as well. That was when I knew she really needed help. I couldn't bring myself to call the hospital though. I couldn't bear to see her locked away in the city somewhere. I thought, if only I had a little more time to give her, I could bring her back.\"\n\n\"I started spending more time with her, going to the graves with her, talking with her. It seemed to help. It seemed to work. I was still worried but I needed to go into town to buy some more supplies every three months so I left her. I left her there all alone. By the time I got back, she was gone. Instead, I found a note saying 'Gone to give the angels their sky back'. I knew something bad was going to happen, I just wasn't sure what.\"\n\n\"I ran to the graves but it was too late. She lay there, looking so peaceful, almost as if she were asleep. It was only after I got closer that I saw she had cut one of her wrists and bled out. Her eyes were still open, staring up at the sky.\"\n\nHe now looked at me with his pain stricken eyes. \"I used to love the sky,\" he told me. \"I used to love the sky before it took mine away from me.\"", "I used to love the sky. \nSo peaceful. \nSo calm.\n\nI used to love the sky.\nI have shared it with so many people.\nSoldiers, watching obliviously over a concentration camp in Nazi Germany. The prophet Ghandi. My forever five year old niece. \n\nI used to love the sky.\nThe way it looks when magenta is gently kissing orange, signaling a day's end.\nThe symbol of new life in the morning sunrise, sympathy in the evening rain, and closure and consistency in sunset.\n\nI used to love the sky.\nThe many stories it told.\nA summer Texas barbecue in the rain. Ending a hike with Jeremy just as the sun set- just before deployment. That last date, where we star watched for hours after curfew. \n\nI used to love the sky.\nThe many things it seemed to represent.\nDiversity. Calmness. Love for life.\n\nI used to love the sky.\nThe way it seemed to be with me from childhood.\nSunlight peeking through as we ate watermelon with my cousins while hiding in the shed from my brother. Calming walks in the rain alone for miles. Saying goodbye to Alice before her hunting trip, unknowingly for the last time.\n\n\nI used to love the sky.\nBut I can't anymore. \nThe memories of those who dropped out of my life are stolen from me, permanently replaced by regret and reminisce.\nI can't get back a second with them. \nAnd every morning, every night, and every draining moment in-between, the sky reminds me.\nIt stains my being, never letting me forget or let go.\nFor that, I cannot forgive it.\n\nI used to love the sky. \nBut I can't.", "I used to love the sky. \n\nWhether it was a star-splattered painting or an empty blue canvas, I would gaze into its void and wonder in awe at its greatness. Its ends extending far beyond what I could. Its unreachable holiness protecting the world below. It was truly magic. I believe if God existed in this realm, he was watching me from up there. Beyond the blue curtains, above the herding clouds, and far over the reach of men. \n\nAs I aged and grew less innocent, it seemed the world did the same. Cries of war erupted from the militant factions that spread their hatred across the land. Their hate sprouted the seeds of violence, seeds that had been planted in the heads of many young boys including my own. I began to despise the others and condemn their existence. I became a soldier, ready to bring hell upon those against us. I was drowned in hatred and blinded by ignorance, yet the sky still stood as beautiful and peaceful as before. \n\nI used to love the sky. I really did. But that ended when the war came. From then on, the only things in the sky were the screams of the jets and the fiery bursts of the rockets. The peace was gone and the sins of man scarred it's heavenly expanse. ", "\nI remember playing outside one day when I was a small child. It was the day after my fourth birthday. I still remember what day it was because I was holding a balloon in the shape of a four and filled with helium.\n\t\nThe four had big, bright eyes and a beaming smile and had the words “Happy Birthday” across the silver latex. I can’t remember anything else I got for that birthday. That balloon was all that mattered to me. My mother tied the string around my little wrist so it wouldn’t float away and I’d run around with a huge shining beacon of my whereabouts. I talked to that balloon like it was a pet dog.\n\t\nI was in front of our house when I tripped over a paving stone that jutted out ever so slightly, but just enough to catch my foot as I tried to run past. The string landed under my hand as I hit the ground and stretched, snapping under the pressure. It was a while before I felt the pain of the fall. All I cared about was that huge four, floating higher and higher into the blue, spring sky.\n\t\nIt reflected the Sun back at me, saying goodbye as it shone like a full moon. I watched it go until I could no longer see it. It must have been at least fifteen minutes. I was inconsolable. My mother tried to give me candy to cheer me up but I wouldn’t even eat it. In my four year old head that balloon was my best friend and he was gone.\n\n\t\nFor years afterward I would look up at the sky on a sunny day and wonder how far that balloon went. At first I imagined him floating all the way to space and visiting the Moon. As the years went by I came to understand that he couldn’t have survived that long and would surely have burst or deflated long before getting into space. \n\t\nI hoped that he’d deflated a little and that he’d come back down to Earth and landed in the hands of another four year old boy. One who would love him as I had, perhaps in China or Africa or America. As I grew yet older I realised he could never have gotten that far.\n\n\t\nI was twenty four years old the last time I looked up at the sky and felt a glimmer of hope in my heart that he was still out there somewhere. I didn’t honestly think so, but the hope was pure. It was nice. It kept me going when things got tough.\n\t\n\t\nNo one knew where they came from or why they came. They came from the sky. They were powerful, terrifying. They were twice as big as we were and just as numerous. Our weapons did nothing to stop them. They only made it worse.\n\t\nI learned a lot about wars and dictatorships and evil growing up. But nothing had prepared me for this. You can reason with people or at worst you can kill them. No man is invincible. These things certainly seemed to be. They killed so many of us. I have no idea how I’m still alive. After the armies were decimated the rest of us fell into chaos. The governments shut down and bit by bit so did the infrastructure.\n\t\nThere was no electricity, no gas, no water, the roads fell into disrepair and the cars became buckets of rust and overgrown plants. We’re still here. I’ve no idea how many of us, but we’re not all dead. Not yet.\n\t\nIt lasted only a few months and then, just as they had come, they were gone. Those of us left have no idea how to rebuild civilisation and so we survive. We hunt, we make fires and we build shelters or take shelter in the buildings that are left. \n\t\nWhen I look up there now, I am afraid that they’ll come back.\n\t\nI used to love the sky.\n", "I used to love the sky.\n\nBack down in rural Kansas, with an alcoholic daddy and no mom, and with miles and miles of wheat, wheat, cow shit, and more wheat, well, it was the only thing I had back then.\n\nSometimes, on those warm, lonely nights, I would get a little blanket, go to the field, and gaze into the stars, counting them one-by one for hours.\n\nSo when the war came, I got the hell out of the farm and enlisted in the Air Force, to seek adventure and glory in the skies of foreign lands.\n\nAnd so, when the time came, I shipped on out and became a bomber pilot over Japan.\n\nI can't look at the sky now. Not with the fire, not with the ashes, not with th screams, not with the thousands of dead etched deep into the stars by my own hand.\n\nI used to love the sky.", "When I was a baby, my first word was \"up.\" I grew up gazing into the heavens, immersed in the endless, pale blue canvas. I wanted to go up there, to make a mark on it. As I grew older, I focused on the night sky instead. Each of those stars, a potential new world, to conquer and make my own. Some even within reach.\n\nSo of course, I was one of the first to volunteer for the Mars Colony. After a while though, that bored me. I might be in the sky I'd seen as a child, but there was still a sky above my head. It might have been pink instead of blue, but it was still there, still out of reach. \n\nSo I went further, to the asteroid belt. Then the moons of the gas giants. Then the Kuiper Belt. Then It came. We all felt it, the brief pain as it penetrated our minds, forced a piece of itself into us. We were commanded to return to Earth, to serve it for eternity. I can't do that. I can't go back to living beneath the sky. I used to love the sky, now it's my home.\n\nThe other crew on this ship feel the same way. The final step after the Kuiper belt would be another star, another world. We won't let this thing steal that away from us. Our ship is very remote, it focused on the ones near Mars for the most part. It hasn't really noticed us, any more than anyone else. So it won't know about our defiance until it's to late. We will not leave the sky.\n\nThis thing in my mind, this soul it's supposed to be called, like we can't tell it wasn't there before. It's a dark matter entity, bound somehow to a net of photons so it can interact with my brain. But we can drive it out. It's going to be painful, if we use anesthetic it won't work. One of the guys in engineering was electrocuted once, said it hurt like nothing else. This is going to be 10 times the voltage she experienced.\n\nI used to love the sky. Hanrol always said I was a strange child, looking at the sun more than my feet. I did trip a lot. As far as my father, as far as anyone will know, I died here. But I will be coming back. Back to bring freedom.\n\nI used to love the sky. Now, the sky is my refuge, and it will provide for me as I, and the others who survived purging, build our strength. Soon." ]	6
	[WP] There is a door in the base of a large tree in the nearby forest. A door that the village elders speak of only in whispers behind closed doors. Today, as you walk through the forest, you see that the door is open.	[ "I heard the elders whispering through the banyan. This was not my first sleepless night, lying in the grass behind the elder hut. Tonight, the stars played with each other, sending balls of light back and forth as the crickets sang their ballads to the winds. The only interruption was the faint crackle of the fire, and the elders, talking in hushed tones about a “chosen”. I thought nothing of their worries, being more concerned with not getting caught out of bed at this hour. If I dozed off in the fields again or on a hunt, I was going to be in big trouble. But tonight, tonight the stars and the wind beckoned me, and as the elders spoke somberly about a doorway and new rules and the “chosen”, whatever that was, I snuck into the trees. \n\nI knew as I always knew, that I could get lost. I had tried many times to lose my way, but always ended up at the village again, just before the sky grew brighter and the birds began their songs. Tonight it was not even a thought in the back of my mind. I wandered, beyond view of the firelight and the smell of the village. Past the crooked rocks and streams. My feet and my soul led me forth, as if to a strange music the moths and fireflies danced around me in pools of moonlight. The brush grew thicker, and I ducked and climbed over and through roots and bushes. \n\nAt first I didn’t notice the tree, I was entranced by the fireflies and the way the moonlight seemed to glow from within the plants around me. When my ears finally told my eyes that it was too quiet, I noticed the light. It was faint, so faint, behind the willow curtain. I slowly drew them back, and even when I approached I did not think of the elders, of their whispers and hushed worries. I thought only of the beautiful moonlight coming from within the tree, through a door that stood only just open in the face of the banyan willow.\n\nI could not see around the tree to tell how large it was, or what may be concealed within, nor did I try to look. I reached for the edge of the door, for the light within, drawn by its beauty and wonder. I was not surprised when I found what was inside, though I had no way of knowing or being prepared. I was not sad or joyous when it came. It was calm and beautiful, and I was open and ready. The last thing I recalled was the light overtaking me.\n\nWhen I opened my eyes, the forest greeted me. \n", "I have a vivid recollection of the events that took place last night. My friend Vidya and I decided to go hiking on the first beautiful day of weather in Ohio, who would've thought that'd be possible? It's 11 A.M. and on the ride to the park we decided to drive up to a local Circle-K to pick up a few energy drinks to jump-start our day. I decided to forget about the original Bawls and pick up a Redbull. As for Vidya, he went with his self-proclaimed \"Best thing ever!\" Green Amp, he's definitely a questionable character. We noticed how empty the often-busy Circle-K was on this otherwise lazy Sunday. We were all ready to checkout and decided to go up to the cashier. We placed our sugar-injected bottles onto the table while I was grabbing my wallet. The cashier's name tag read Adrian. I remembered this guy. We went to middle school together around 12 years ago and I haven't heard from him since he moved away. \"What brings you back to these parts?\" I asked Adrian. No response, he quickly and awkwardly grabbed the money, gave me my change, and threw a grin my way. Vidya and I grab our drinks and proceed to exit. We get into the car and I'm turning the key in the ignition as Vidya says \"What a fucking creep.\"\nI have no response.\n\"Do you have beef with that guy or some shit?\" Vidya asked.\n\"Not that I remember, it has been years since we've last said a single word to each other.\" I respond.\n\"Weird.\" Vidya said.\nWeird is exactly what it was, but that wasn't the only weird part of my day.\n\"Aaand we're here!\" I exclaimed in excitement to our arrival at the park. I finally got Adrian off of my mind as we were taking in the beauty of nature.\n\"Eric, do you feel.. I don't know, strange right now?\" Vidya asked as we were sitting there facing each other in a game of rock-skipping. \n\"You probably just took in too much caffeine, stop being paranoid.\" I said. Vidya was always quite the anxious soul, he's like a chihuahua in a sea of rottweilers; often thinking of what could go wrong and not thinking about the fun he's having. The clock finally struck 1 P.M. and we decided to begin our much-anticipated first hike of the year. Neither of us really get out too often, we're usually drowning ourselves in a binge of Netflix, we like to blame Ohio weather but I think we're just fiends. As we were walking upon the path there was a sign that read \"Caution! Be on the lookout for deadly snakes!\"\nThis usually isn't a problem for Ohioans so I didn't think much of it. Surely enough, as we walked up the path a snake started darting its way toward Vidya. Vidya let out what was likely the girliest scream I've ever heard. I proceeded to laugh as he spouted out profanity because I noticed the shady guy with a camera so I figured something was up. Surely enough it was a YouTuber trying to make a success off of corny pranks. That was one of the most interesting things that has happened in my life, I figured it'd definitely be the high point in my day, if not year, just because of how Vidya reacted. \nNever have I been so wrong.\nWe continued our usual trail in the park and crossed creeks, pushed our way through branches. It was about 3:30 P.M. now when we decided to go back and grab a bite to eat from the vending machines. On our way back we noticed a tree. It wasn't a normal tree, I could feel it being there without actually looking directly at it. This was odd mainly because it seemed it was trying to camouflage itself in a barrage of leaves and branches. As I was studying the tree a rock flew up and smacked it on the side, nobody was in sight that could have possibly thrown that rock. I decide to dive deeper into the mysteries of this tree while convincing Vidya that \"It'll be interesting!\"\nI felt my heart rate increasing with each step near the tree. As I'm removing some branches that are covering the base of the tree I hear Vidya let out a feint \"What the f-...\"\nI came around to the other side of the tree to see what had Vidya at surprise.\nIt was a door on the base of the tree, only high enough to allow somebody to crawl through. We had no idea what somebody could have possibly been hiding in this tree and I decided to attempt an opening. Locked. I whipped my flip knife out of my pocket to cut through the zip-ties holding the door in-tact. Success, I've managed to reveal the hole and now have a decision to make. Obviously Vidya wasn't going to go inside, or so I thought. I figured I'd ask him if he'd be interested in trying something that scares him for the first time in life. \"Okay, I fucking will if you'd shut the hell up about me being 'Scared to try new things' all the damn time.\" Vidya said in lividity.\n\"Then go.\" I encourage him.\nVidya enters the door to the abyss. I've waited about 5 minutes and was wondering what was taking him so long to figure out what this was all about and considering I've given him my phone which has a bright ass LED flashlight it really shouldn't be a very difficult task.\n\"Vidya?!\" I scream in hopes of a response.\nDead silence.\nAbout 3 minutes later I hear a sound coming from the tree.\n\"V-Vidya?\" I ask.\nAgain, dead silence. I decide to grab my lighter and take a look into the tree myself. I've managed to get in and stand up.\nI'm now striking my lighter in hopes of flame ignition and I finally get it.\nI study my surroundings and see what the tree is truly about.\n[Spoiler](/s \"Spaghetti, spaghetti everywhere. It's falling from branches inside of the hollow tree and Vidya even turned into spaghetti. Kek.\") (Scroll over to read)", "They told me not to, so I did. \n\nThe moon hung lazy in the sky when I sneaked out, and I could here the white settlers far off smoking and drinking and laughing by a campfire. When they finish they throw their remains on the ground because the ground meant nothing to them. But tonight, I barely cared.\n\nThey said this was the most ancient thing in the world; how it stretches and rises! It ascends above every other tree. From a branch, an owl watched me with squinted eyes and a gentle coo. I know there is a door inside, because I've seen it. I lowered myself to the ground - you have to crawl through the mess of huge, knotted roots to get to the center of the tree. As I began to move forward, I felt a hand on my back.\n\n\"Where are you going, precious?\" slurred one of the settlers. He was tall and his face was pale, and he wore a long black overcoat. \"You're the prettiest one of them I've seen. Why don't I teach you a thing or two?\"\n\nI wriggled away and mashed through the roots, and he grabbed my foot.\n\n\"Where the hell are you goin'?\"\n\nBut I was too quick, and I scraped my elbow against the roots, but I made it out. My blood fed the tree a bit. The pale one belched and left. I was in the dark. I had come here to the tree because I dreamed it. There is a door - may never open it, I was told, and especially may never let the foreigners know. I have come many times to look at the door, but it has always been closed. But today...\nI wriggled forward, and I saw it - surrounded by pale glowing mushrooms and a small frog which jumped on my bare foot, it was open, a large, cedar door with ancient moss and withered wood. I walked forward. I had dreamed it. I had.\n\nBeyond the door was blackness. I looked back. Nothing but the inside of the tree and the sprawl of twisted root. I walked forward. \n\nI am on the back of Thunderbird, and I fly through black clouds. The storm screams all around me. \"Where am I?\"\n\n\"You've slipped through the roots, girl,\" says Thunderbird. His voice is like endless lightning, and falling rain. \"You were told not to come.\"\n\nI say nothing. And Thunderbird caws, and when he does, lightning falls from sky sky. \n\n\"Is it all over for me?\"\n\nThunderbird says nothing. \"In a sense - humans come from nature, and that's where you've returned.\"\n\nAnd we fly over the forest, and I see the settlers below cutting down trees. This one hangs his thumbs on his gun-belt while the tree groans and dies, and that one sits and watches somberly. The city grows, and people flourish where once the trees did. Maybe it's not so bad. The city grows more, and becomes a port-town, and when the mother tree is fallen, a grand steel building is put in her place. People play below, and I still fly with Thunderbird - I bring the rain, and the wind, and the lightning still, because even in the city, the people are tied to the land." ]	3
Thats the wh40k Emperor, that is. [Inspired by this comment](http://www.reddit.com/r/whowouldwin/comments/32oej7/the_god_emeperor_of_mankind_is_out_on_his_great/cqd9c2k)	[WP][EU] The God Emeperor of Mankind is out on his Great Crusade, about to reclaim a human planet, when suddenly The Doctor shows up, and tells him this planet is under his protection	[ "\"You...what?\"\n\n\"That's right, this planet is under my pro-\" The Doctor never finished his sentence, seeing as how his skull was now nothing but stains on the golden, shimmering armor of the God Emperor.\nA light, of the same brilliance, sprang from the corpse. However, it was snuffed by the Emperor's boot, which crushed the remaining life the doctor had.\n\nthe God Emperor, with one shift of his glorious body, kicked the Doctor's corpse out of his way.\n\n\nNow, let this be a lesson to those that are brave of heart.\n\n\nThe God Emperor will not spare you.", "The Emperor stood at the helm of his shape and down at the planet below. It reminded of him of his home, Terra, from many millenia ago. The smell of the oceans, the old arctic winds, the perpetual cacophony of the jungles, he could feel i t all in the minds of the men below.\n\nAnd yet he hesitated. He held back his fleet in the dark of the moon as he ruminated on the encounter he had just had.\n\n---\n\n\"We await your command Emperor, the legions are to land at every major Government Building on planet, New Terra will be ours,\"\n\n\"Do not be so hasty Horus, we are not tyrants come to oppress and lay the people lay, we have come to lift them up to-\" The Emperor stopped talking.\n\n\"Father?\"\n\n\"Something approaches, something old, yet new,\"\n\nA whirling, blaring sound filled the room, and alarms sounded. Space marines ran to form a wall in front of the Emperor and a dozens psykers stood at the ready. \n\nHorus lifted Worldbreaker. \"What foul Daemon assails us?\"\n\nA box, about as tall as an imperial guardsman appeared in front of them, and from it, a man stepped out. He wore no armor, only a trenchcoat and a brown suit. \n\n\"Identify yourself! How did you get here?\" Horus barked pointing Worldbreaker as more space marines surrounded the box. One move forward to grab the man but a force field pushed him back.\n\n\"Hello, I'm the Doctor,\"\n\n\"What is physician doing aboar-\" Horus shouted. The room was full know, there was enough firepower to level a city, not including the emperor and his first Primarch.\n\n\"Let him speak Horus,\" The Emperor said softly, but everyone in the room heard it. \"It's not any man who can arrive in my throne room unarmed and unafraid, I was informed that this planet didn't possess interplanetary travel.\"\n\n\" This is a throne room? Yes well I suppose it is,\" He put on a pair of glasses he didn't need and scanned the room. \"I couldn't help but noticing...\" He took out a small device from his pocket and pointed it around him, letting out a blue light and a soft whirl. \"that you appear to have a fleet hovering around this planet,\"\n\n\"That is correct, I intend to lift this world from its squalor,\" The Emperor said.\n\n\"Squalor right, Well. What if this world doesn't want it?\" He paused the device while pointed to the Emperor, his eyes widening a fraction before swiftly disappearing under a disaffected gaze.\n\n\"It is unimportant, in time they will accept and rejoice this day,\"\n\n\"I was afraid you might say that,\" He leaned against its side, \"Others have tried before you know,\"\n\nThe Emperor said nothing.\n\n\"Races and Federations far older and more powerful, well, definitely Federations stronger than yours,\" His eyes didn't trail from the Emperor's as he said that. They showed a curiosity, a bit of hope, regret, and anger. But the anger only seemed to be directed at himself. The Emperor pulled back from the man's mind after he turned his head to Horus.\n\n\"BLASPHEMER NONE ARE MOR-\" Horus tried to interrupt, as outrage spread out among the gathered space marines.\n\n\"You should know, this planet is protected.\" Despite the noise the Emperor could hear the man's words, and see the fire in his eyes as he spoke. Even as the man whispered the final words before stepping back into his box. A haunted look barely escaping before the doors hid his face. \"This is your only warning, [ .....](/s \" \")\"\n\n____\n\n\"Call back the fleets, we return to Holy Terra that we may plot a new course for the Crusade,\"\n\n\"Father?\"\n\n The Emperor stepped into his personal quarters, ignoring the questions his son asked. His name was old, so very, very old. And yet the strange man spoke it as if he would an old friend, or was it like an old enemy. He tried to meditate, but all he could imagine was the fire in the man's eyes, and how it seemed all so familiar.\n\nMemories of fire even older than the unification of Terra. Memories older than his own on childhood. Memories of a past life.\n\n___\n\n___\n\nSo that concludes my attempt. I'd just like to apologize for any inaccuracies in the WH lore, I have only passing knowledge of WH40K and was more interested in creating a rather typical doctor who story with a far more interesting subtext ;)", "The Emperor sat motionless on his throne, fully encased in a system of tubes, wires, and other holy relics of the Techpriests of Mars. Even now, they performed rites on the machines to continue their functioning.\n\nThis was unprecedented. In all of history since the Horus Heresy, the Emperor has never left Earth. Now he and his throne sat in the great room of Phalanx.The monastary-ship was itself escorted by the might of the entire Imperial Fist chapter of the Aedeptus Astartes, the SpaceMarines.\n\nThe throne was flanked by three venerated dreadnoughts, a full company of dominators, and three of the most powerful psykers in the empire. High above, several scouts sat silently, watching for signs of hidden treachery. \n\nJust then, a throbbing noise began, and a blue shape pulsed into existence a few feet in front of the throne. The sound of weapons being loaded, leveled, and rounds being chambered was deafening. In front of the throne, a group of psykers joined hands and shrieked. Their bodies tensed, their backs arched, and blue sparks danced at their temples as of electricity were flowing through them. A quiet whirr signaled the priming of the pumps used by the dreadnoughts flamers. \n\nAt 8'0\", Chapter-Master Obadiah Russ towered over even the assembled Astartes, much less the humans.\n\n He growled, \"Take aim, and beware of any signs of treachery treachery! Prepare to defend the Emperor!\"\n\nPreviously unnoticed, a group of five Astarte's with different insignia moved with fluid grace from the sides of the room, to the blue box, now fully materialized, in the center. Their armor seemed to direct your eyes away from itself. The effect was unnerving, as were their 15 foot long polearms, and the sheen of frost coating them.\n\nThe door to the box opened, and a voice echoed from inside \"don't shoot! I'm unarmed!\"\n\nRuss boomed \"Show yourself, coward!\"\n\nA small, unserious human wobbled out of the box, straightened his bowtie and put his hands up. He smiled up at Russ.\n\n\"Well, well! Look at you! Aren't you a big fellow!\" He said, patting the power armor on the Chapter-Master's kneecap.\n\n\"The only reason you still draw breath is that your warning saved the God-Emperor from destruction.\" Russ boomed. \n\nIndeed, booming seemed to be the only way he knew how to speak.\n\n\"Yes, you're very scary.\" The little man said, turning around.\n\n\"You dare mock your emperors' SpaceMarines!?\" Russ boomed, this time inquisitively.\n\n\"Ah, there's where you're wrong. In point of fact, you are quite fearsome, and acknowledging fact is not mockery.\" \n\nRuss only growled in response.\n\n\"Anyway\" the little man went on \"In the first place, he's not my emperor.\"\n\nRuss's eyes flamed. \"BLASPHEMY! KNEEL BEFORE YOUR EMPEROR AND BEG HIS MERCY!\" he boomed. This time the booming was quite accusatory.\n\nThe little man out his hands on his hips.\n\n\"Not too bright are we? YOUR Emperor is the Emperor of all Mankind, but I am no huma-\"\n\n*\"BURN THE ALIEN\"* cried the dreadnoughts in unison.\n\nThe little man was run through on four of the five polearms of the Grey Legion, hoisted aloft, simultaneously frozen, burned, and electrocuted by the psykers, burned by the flamethrowers carried by the dreadnoughts, and filled with bolter rounds by the rest of the Astartes present.\n\nUp in the rafters, tendrils of smoke rose from the barrels of the scouts rifles.\n\nThe thoroughly pulped body of the alien feel to the floor with a satisfyingly squishy plop.\n\nJust then, a small device rolled from the heap, ever so slightly luminescent floated up from the pile of gore and whirred at the emperor in a flash. It pulsed a wave of energy through all the shields, armor, and other suffice before settling in his forehead, which began to glow.\n\nThe faint glow grew brighter, and was accompanied by a hum. The psykers all shouted in unison \"HE RETURNS\" before laughing maniacally and falling to the floor, dead.\n\nRuss bowed to the throne, and all others present followed suit.\n\nWhen the glow and the him subsided, the wires, tubes and artifice had all disconnected themselves from the Emperor. \n\nIn a voice deeper yet more gentle than Russ', He Spoke.\n\nRise, child. You have done well. Assemble the chapters.\n\n\"Y-yes, my Lord, \" boomed Russ, with a stammer. \"B-but which chapters, my Lord?\" The honorific fell gracelessly from his mouth in much the same way the aliens pulp had done a few minutes prior.\n\n\"All of them,\" the Emperor said, taking his own opportunity to boom.\n\n\"We have a legion to rebuild.\"" ]	3
What runs through his mind? How do others notice?	[WP] A talented surgeon has been developing schizophrenia. Keeping it a secret to protect his career, he loses composure mid-operation.	[ "John sat in the cafeteria, staring at the wall directly in front of him. He didn't look at the pasta in front of him as he consumed it with his spoon. They weren't aloud to eat with forks ever since Mark tried to kill the nurse with one three months back. The sound of screams distracted him from the staring contest, and he attempted to find the source. He began to reminisce about his life before being put in this hell. \n\nHe was removing a brain tumor from a 34 year old male, a relatively easy procedure, especially for a surgeon with his skill level. He was the most respected surgeon in the country. Celebrities, wealthy CEOs, and important politicians flew thousands of miles to be cut open by the steady hand of the 50 year old graying doctor.\n\nSometime around Christmas last year, John began acting weird. The staff around the hospital took notices of John's odd behavior. At random moments, he would have what they labeled \"attacks\". He would blink constantly and start twitching. His lips would quiver and he would let out garbled noises as he broke into a violent sweat.\n\nJohn couldn't believe this was happening to him. These voices don't happen to people with his education and stature. This was the type of stuff that happens to people who are unhappy and impoverished. He began heavily researching his condition and eventually learned how to control the disorder. Whenever, he began hearing the voices; he would hide in his office and experience the attack away from the staff's judgmental eyes.\n\nWhen the voices started in the OR, he had no where to hide. The voices were much more morbid than usual. They started out as a whisper, \"Kill him...kill him\". John's usual calm arm became shaky and he started displaying the usual symptoms of an attack. The nurses stared at each other nervously, not knowing what to do. \n\nThe voices kept getting louder and louder. He never experienced an attack this bad. Eventually, the voice was draining out all other noise, screaming \"kill him, kill him.\" John had to find a way to stop the shouting in his head. \n\nHe began yelling, \"shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up.\" The tone of his voice was a mixture of terror and desperation. \n\nThe nurses were terrified. The back-up surgeon ordered them to take him out of the OR. When they came around and told him he had to come with them, he refused. The one went to grab his arm to pull him away, and John snapped. \n\nHe pushed her onto the ground and kicked her in the kidneys. He then picked up his scalpel and swiped the other nurse's eyes with the sharp tool. The nurse shrieked in pain, but John didn't hear her screams. All he heard was the voice's demonic message. \n\nThe back-up surgeon ran around the table in an attempt to stop the monster. John saw him coming, took the surgical drill off his tool table, and plunged it into the younger man's neck. He made sure it was deep in his flesh before turning it on and spraying his blood across the room. \n\nThe voice's screams were still getting louder. He felt like has brain was throbbing against his skull. He needed the voices to stop, he felt like his head was about to explode. The door opened across the room and security guards frantically ran into the room. \n\nJohn knew he didn't have much time and that he needed to make it quick. He reached into the man's exposed skull and just began grabbing and pulling anything he could. The guards apprehended him as the long still sound of the flatline rang around the room. The voice fell completely silent. \n\nThe guards didn't let Mike finish his meal, and three of them were needed to drag him back to his room. Mike still heard the screaming as he was being forced back to his room. After the guards left and he was alone in his room, the screaming subsisted, as loud as it was in the cafeteria. ", "Below Dr. Spooner lied the open body. The flourescent light above heated the exposed flesh, reminding him of the smell of rare cooked meat.\nLike splitting wood, the ribcage cracked.\n\"Nurse, scalpal please,\" said Spooner. Nurse Robinson handed him the scalpal. Taking it, Dr. Spooner could see his reflection. And the man behind him, gazing over his shoulder.\n\"Hey,\"said the man. In panic, Dr. Spalding dropped the scalpal. \n\"Doctor!\" The nurse lunged for the falling tool of death. She caught it as the tip grazed the ten year old child on the operating table.\n\"Doctor, are you okay? You look sick,\" said Nurse Robinson.\n\"Absolutely, lack of sleep, you know how it goes,\" Spooner said. \n(Come on, Doctor, you know how to handle this. He isn't real and it's your fault that he is here)\nHanding the scalpal back to Spooner, Robinson returned to her place by the tool table, standing stiff and rigid with a sallow expression plastered to her face. The flourescent like made her her look like ghost, thought Spooner as he glanced up at her. His face was inches from the childs beating heart. \n\"Hey. Cut her. Do it. Look--Robinson!\"\nHe looked up. Robinson had a look to her face, as if she were up to no good. And what did she mean am I okay, Spooner asked himself.\n\"She's on to you\"\nSpooner slid the scalpal blade into the warm and fibrous heart tissue. Blood squirted onto his green surgical facemask. \nNurse Robinson wanted him to screw up. He knew it, and so did he. \n(Still there, buddy?)\nSpooner didn't know why he thought it when he already knew it. Should he kill her. That might work. Probably wouldn't see it coming. \nNo, grab hold of yourself Spooner. Ignore the voice!\nIn his psychotic excitment he pushed the scalpal a bit too hard. \nIt was lost in the child's heart.\nThe EKG spikes flattened, flatlined. \nNurse Robinson fainted.", "Jesus Christ. There are aliens in this man's body.\n\nDr. Stiles wiped the sweat from his brow, eyes wide.\n\n\"Doctor? Doctor Stiles?\"\n\nNo... Not aliens... Does no one else see them? They're tearing into his organs... Tiny... Micro... Demons...\n\n\"DEREK!\"\n\nNurse Thompson was staring at him. He shook his head. The aliens seemed to be gone...\n\n\"Sorry, uh... Right. Beginning the extraction of glass shards from...\"\n\nThey're back... How does Angie not see them? He'll die at this rate... I have to save him!\n\nDr. Stiles looked at the table with his tools.\n\nBingo! The laser!\n\nPointing the device into the man's chest cavity he pulled the trigger blasting the small alien scum away. Angie ran from the room. She must have noticed them. This was working. He could save...\n\n... Flatline? No! He needed more time!\n\nHe quickly traced a star over the man's chest as time slowed down. Using this time, Dr Stiles quickly grabbed the new healing ointment from the counter and began to slather it onto the man's wounds...\n\n---\nMeanwhile, three terrified nurses watched as their ace surgeon filed a man with water, draw an apparent pentagram on his body, then slather the corpse with vasoline.\n\n" ]	3
Not a superficial understanding like "I won't see Mom again because she is living in the sky now," but a true understanding of mortality.	[WP] A child finally understands death.	[ "Mama, mama. I think I finally understand. Yesterday I was with daddy at the beach. We took a very long walk. My feet were aching so, I told daddy that if we could take a break. Mama we had so much fun! that when we sat down the sun was already leaving to rest. And then daddy tells me \"The sun reminds me of your mother\" Mama, let me tell you I didn't understand him but then as I watched the sun go down, I realized I was already missing its warmth, its brightness but then, I remember that tomorrow will be a new day and the sun will rise and I will see it again. Mama, I understood daddy. You are just like the sun because of the warmth you gave us, the brightness of your smile and eyes and hair and teeth. Mama, you're just like the sun because you're not gone, you're just resting, and when it's time to rise I know you'll be waiting for me with open arms, like the sun's rays. I love you, Mama. I'll see you soon.", "It was a cloudy mid-summer afternoon, warm with a cool breeze. A man in his mid-thirties stood over a work bench in a spacious garage, wearing overalls and a ratty white tee-shirt covered in grease. A red ’68 mustang sat behind him with the hood open. The man polished a sparkplug with a rag soaked in gasoline when the Garage door sprung to life and slowly began opening. \n\nA large handi-bus slowly pulled into the garage stopping a couple feet from the man who had looked up with a half-smile to see his wife pulling into the garage. Slowly he made his way over to the driver side door and when she collected her purse, opened the door and stood up he was there to give her a strong hug. She buried her teary face in his chest for a few moments then leaned back with a smile and said “I’m alright.” \n“It’s okay if you’re not alright. It’s only been a few months since Michelle passed. And it hasn’t even been a year since we lost Samantha.” He stated in a concerned tone. \n“No, really, I’m doing okay. It’s just hard. Sometimes I just… oh I don’t want to ruin your day, Robert, you look like you’re in a good mood.” She said through a forced smile. “How was your day, did you get any work?” \n“I’m just better at hiding it than you. It was fine.” Robert said turning his gaze to the floor. \n“I know, you! What happened?” \n“Alright, look. Don’t worry, it wasn’t serious, but… Old Ms. Hubert hired me for the day to clean her gutters, I set up the ladder and when I got about half way up it jerked to the side and I fell.” \n“Oh god! You could have died!” she exclaimed as she dropped her purse and hugged Robert tightly. \n“But I didn’t. So, it’s okay.” Robert, slowly pushed her away so she could see his smile. \n“Why is this happening to our family?” \n“God works in mysterious ways, dear. But listen, again, I’m okay.” \n“It’s not okay! In the last year Michelle and Samantha have died, neither of us have been able to find work and you almost died today! The bills are piling up. I feel like god is punishing us for something.” Tears began to fill her eyes. \n“Rose, relax, it’s fine, stuff like this happens all the time but we didn’t start paying attention to it until a few months ago.” Robert hugged Rose tightly and ran his fingers down the back of her loose blue shirt, and smelled her shoulder length auburn hair. He kissed her on the forehead and turned to clean finish up. “I’ll be inside in a few minutes to help you cook dinner. Ben’s in his room, make sure he’s not on the computer, he’s still grounded.” \n\nAbout an hour had passed and the small family sat around the dinner table. Benjamin toyed with his peas waiting to start eating, Rose stared at two empty wheelchairs at the side of the table and Robert, cut up a small pork loin and put a piece onto each plate, before sitting down in silence. A few moments passed and Benjamin held out his hand towards Robert. Robert reached out and grasped tightly and lifted is other hand to grab Roses hand, who was busy staring at the empty spots on the table. Rose snapped out of her stupor, squeezed Roberts hand back and then the three of them lowered their head in prayer before having dinner. \n\nThe three of them ate quietly until Ben asked “Why is Mom so unhappy?” \n“Benjamin!” Robert almost yelled, sharply. \n“Robert, it’s okay. He’s only seven.” Rose decried putting her hand on Roberts shoulder. “Honey, You know Samantha and Michelle aren’t coming home right?” \n“I know that, but Samantha and Michelle were miserable all the time.” Ben stated innocently. “Now no one makes fun of them or looks at them funny… They’re happy in heaven with god now, that’s what you and dad said.” \n“Honey, that may be, but it still doesn’t mean we don’t hurt inside.” Rose grasped at a heart locket around her neck. \n“But why? They’re happy in heaven. They’re free.” Ben claimed happily. \nRose Smiled a bit and said “I’m glad that you think like that. What did you do today?” \n“I tried to Free Dad, too.”\n", "What was death, but leaving,\n\nRunning to the stars,\n\nSleeping without breathing,\n\nStains that never scar.\n\nI'll see when I'm older,\n\nLoved ones in dirt sleep,\n\nWarm loving hands grow colder,\n\nFading memories creep.\n\nI thought I'd never know\n\nWhy black boxes were their beds.\n\nIf death was peace and letting go,\n\nWhy do we cry for dead?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI know now what death is.\n\nStains that fade and never scar,\n\nNo matter how nurse ladies scrub.\n\nPaper to draw the twinkling stars,\n\nWith old crayons, almost nubs.\n\nDeath is flowers at the bed,\n\nthey stopped changing days ago.\n\nDeath is weeping, words unsaid,\n\nBehind glass, words I don't know.\n\nA car that tore Sister's hands away,\n\nand rolled us in the snow.\n\nDeath was her dress, white as day,\n\nAnd the too-grown suit they say is my own.\n\nDeath is beeps ticking away,\n\nWhen I'm all alone.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nEverything hurts. But there's no one here.\n\nNo one to kiss the boo-boos and take me away\n\nTo peace that everyone fears.\n\nNo visitors but death today.", "All put together, it simply didn't make sense. \n\nUsing several (I blush to state, outdated) encyclopedias concerning the birth rate of humans throughout the ages, coincided with the total population size in relation to it, I had discovered a large and glaring contradiction. Simply put, the two statistics did not match. The rate of people alive should've undergone an exponential growth starting from the evolutionary origin of the species roughly two million years ago, yet, our growth rate seems to have resembled a logistic rate up until recently. \n\n\nWhat was I missing? There MUST be some sort of error in my logical reasoning, some sort of factor I am not considering. Of course, the hallmark of figuring out any problem is to return to the basics: my inherent assumptions about this problem. Obviously, my biggest assumption here would be that humanity as a whole are 'around' forever; in that they are a universal constant within this reality. Barring an extreme issue with how I approach the problem itself, it would be best to tackle the validity of this assumption. The evidence for it is quite apparent: I have never seen my parents, relatives, friends, or people I have otherwise known disappear, nor have I seen any sort of random and inconsistent loss of human life anywhere. After all, given that rate of humans just seemingly vanishing from the population timeline is astonishing, shouldn't I have seen at a least a few people just turn into nothingness?\n\nYet...my anecdotes mean nothing for scientific rigor, so I cannot allow them to affect my thoughts. Regardless, the evidence against this assumption seems to grow more and more damnable as I continue my research. As an example, one need only draw eyes towards my observations of those close to me: such as the individuals whom care of me. They, while much larger, are in a noticeable state of decay, with wrinkles and a lack of energy being a part of who they are. Even worse still, the people termed \"Gramps\" and \"Grandma\" are basically bed-ridden, to the point where they can barely stand up on their own two feet to play games with me. Yet, I, a newborn babe, am utterly consumed with vigor. \n\nGood lord! Through my own folly thinking, I have stumbled upon quite the malevolent revelation: humans fade away! As they go through the motions of life, it chips away at their structure, lowering and debasing them until they are nothing but a memory. Such a dark and horrific idea is the only one which makes sense: it explains the discrepancy between the birth rate and the population size. I didn't make a mistake in my calculations. Over time, humans truly do disappear; whether it is because of the anger of a mischievous god or of the follies of our past, from the very second any wretched human is pulled from the bleeding womb and into the light of the modern world, they are completely and utterly doomed.. " ]	4
	[WP] The Final Frontier: it's not Space, and it's not the Ocean, it's...	[ "Antarctica: The Final Frontier\n\nNo one saw Antarctica as a priority. It was just \"that cold place\" that no one cared about. Then we found it...\n\nBeneath the ice, we found a capsule. It was 100 feet long and 50 feet tall. On the side was writing that was completely unknown. Scientists detected high energy amounts emanating from it. Then one day, it opened. \n\nInside were humans. Upon awaking, they told us how they didn't remember a thing. They were very strange. But the strangest part was their genetic sequence. It was completely different than humans, but it encoded into creating a human, kind of like how you can solve a math problem in two ways.", "Time. That ephemeral concept that none of us ever truly grasped. \nAt ninety three years of age, it was fair to say that I'd spent my life trying to understand the vagaries of time. \nWhen I was a child I'd seen a very old 'television show' where a starship captain talked about time having 'moods' and other naunced behaviours that we attribute to living things - something which affected my outlook on it for the rest of my life. \nWhat if time had weather and seasons? What if you ran into a squall or storm of time while travelling through it? Like the travellers of ancient earth's seas and the early travellers through the cosmos, would you be thrown off course and end up in some strange destination? \nOr worse; could you be shipwrecked or sunk in the ocean of time, forever lost in the maelstrom depths of something far beyond our understanding? \nThese concepts were nothing but thought experiments, until we discovered the device.\n\nThe alien device was found in what was deemed a 'gravitational eddy', though some called them 'galactic lakes'. \nWe'd long ago learned that in deep space there existed stellar winds and gravitational 'rivers' that one could 'sail' and reduce the time it took to reach other star systems. When viewed on a stellar chart, they branched and flowed together like streams collecting into rivers - then emptied into vast regions of space, where they met and pooled like a massive inland sea. \nOften these 'lakes' were filled with space flotsam and jetsam; old, cratered ship hulls, ancient alien probes (we found our ancient 'Voyager' probe in one such galactic junk yard) and loose equipment bouncing off natural stellar debris; iceballs, asteroid chunks and interstellar dust. \nRaiders, junkers, scientists, archaeologists and the curious would descend on newly discovered gravitational eddies and strip them bare in months, trying to find evidence of alien civilisations or hoping for that lucky find that would make them rich. \nAs luck would have it, my team found the device first. \n\nI'd long ago decided that humanity lacked the frame of mind to fully comprehend time. \nWe could understand earth and its oceans, we could understand galactic space and the tidal forces of stellar bodies. We could even understand deep space; that vast emptiness between the spiral arms of galaxies. \nBut as arrogant as we were over our mastery of those, we had never been able to unravel the mysteries of time. \nOur vast, planet-sized servant AIs had pondered the problem for hundreds of years and each one had come to the same conclusion: \nTime travel was not possible. \nMy belief though, was that even in their vast intelligence and nearly infinite computational power, they lacked the soul to comprehend how time worked - the innate ability to sense her moods, harness her winds and avoid the cyclones of her anger. \nThat was why I looked beyond humanity for the answer. \nThat was why the device was our salvation. \n\nNone of the exoarchaeologists could pinpoint the civilisation it had come from as it bore no real resemblance to any known technology. \nStudying it was difficult, as sixty percent of the device existed in an exotic quantum flux and another thirty percent existed outside our universe. \nOnly the exterior and some exotic matter filaments and conduits anchored the impossible machine to our own spacetime. \nI knew we had found what we were looking for. \nAs we unravelled its mysteries and began to learn how it functioned, I grew increasingly excited. Experts in various fields - especially exotechnologists - were brought in to unleash the potential of the device. \nOne young woman was the exotech who finally cracked it, after seven months of research. \n\"It's online\" she transmitted to me via the research station's net and I asked her to wait as I hauled myself out of bed and got dressed. \nWalking through the pristine corridors of the station, I reflected on how good medical nanotech was now. Now over ninety, I moved like a healthy forty year old woman from the twentieth century. If I was lucky, I might hit two hundred before my body was too worn out to continue and needed to be reworked completely in a semi-organic nanostew where they would replace me cell-by-cell until I was a teenager again. \nOnly Seshka stood in the lab, the glowing distortion fields of the shielded device throwing ripples of eldritch colour around the expensive laboratory. Everyone else had gone to bed - only her obsession drove her. \n\"You were right,\" she said, \"It is a time travel device - but not like the ones we attempted to create. Not like the ones we lost so many chrononauts to, long ago.\" \n\"Show me!\" I demanded, gripping her shoulder with a frightening intensity. \n\"As you wish, Professor.\" \nI felt her sending a data stream into the human technology grafted to the shell of the device. \nThen scarlet energy enveloped us like a quantum womb before ejecting us with a stingingly painful birth into an earlier time. \n" ]	2
	[WP] You've stayed up too late and just watched your alarm clock turn from 12:59 to 13:00.	[ "I quickly downed the Walgreens sleeping medicine in desperation for sleep. It had been dozens of hours since I last had a good nights rest, and I had just seven hours until I had to be back up and running, a well oiled machine. In quiet agony of my predicament I stared at the red clock sitting on my nightstand, ticking up, up, up. \n\n 12:58 \n\nBut what was it ticking up to? \n\nAll our lives we watch these machines move time forward, controlling every little bit of us. I could feel my heartbeat racing just thinking these thoughts. Cold sweat started dripping from my head, which eventually soaked through my pillow case.\n\nEyes bloodshot, I focused on the blaring red numbers of that cruel 8-segment display.\n\n 12:59\n\nThe anticipation in my chest sent my heart ramming against it's cage. I could feel my chest caving in, and I could hardly breathe. Just one minute until the next hour, and the next hour will lead to the next minute, minutes upon minutes to hours upon hours, days upon days to weeks upon...\n\n 13:00\n\nShit, I need to lay off the sleeping pills.", "The final exams were tomorrow. I was worried as hell about them. This could determine my future.\n\nI thought I'd get some sleep. I want to do somewhat well on them.\n\nI climbed in my bed. 9:00pm, reasonable time.\n\nMy mind wouldn't turn off. I couldn't stop thinking about tomorrow.\n\nI looked at my alarm clock. I watched it go from 12:57, to 12:58, to 12:59. It felt like hours.\n'God it's one in the morning. I'm going to be whipped in the morning.' I thought.\n\nThen I saw it: 13:00.\n\n\"What?\" I said. \"No.\"\nI looked, and my brother set it to military time." ]	2
	[WP] A demon saves a family from an angel.	[ "Passion. Passion is the root of all sin they say. The fact that I care about something other than some being I had no proof existed was enough to damn me to hell. There I spent eons training. Trying to be more powerful than my mortal shell could ever hope to be. \n\n\nYou see Hell isn't a pit of torture. Nor is it a mere concept. It is a literal place. A training ground for Lucifer's army. I didn't have to join, no I could have accepted the offer of some land, a few cows, and the chance to carve out a simple, peaceful, good life. I turned that all down just for the chance to maybe kill one of you bastards. \nI seek justice for me and mine, and there is nothing you can do to stop me. every time you kill me I come back stronger, and more angry. This child that you and your boss have your sights on will not fall to your blade, and I will spend every last breath I have to stop you. There are more sorcerers in Hell than in heaven did you really think that you had the upper hand? we may be less in natural power but there are other sources of power. mesa terra undine seperaith\n Burn son of Uriel. Burn and know that you were truly in the wrong\n\n \"the charred body of the Angel lies on the ground gasping for air\" you see that kid over there? the one you were trying to destroy? He's going to grow up and end this stupid cycle of violence and death. that's right bitch! The fucking Antichrist is going to bring mankind to the next level! And then..... were coming for your boss.", "I hate March. Well technically I hate everything, but on my spectrum of hate there is a special place for March. Life begins to bloom, animals come out of hibernation, and the humans become more active. Life is disgusting. However, this March is special, full of death. How do I know you ask? The thing about demons and angels is we can sort of see into the future. When I say this, I mean we can kind of see \"God's Plan\" if you will. However, since the Big Fella decided to throw free-will into the mix we have the power to, how should I put this..…..we have the power to interrupt the course of events, but only within reason. So long as we don't screw with the Plan too much we have some free reign. Oh man and how sweet it is. Being an immortal being with the power to shape shift, fly, become invisible and brought into reality with the sole purpose to terrorize and bring upon horrific suffering to lowly humans, it’s a Godsend! \n\nRight now, I’m on the prowl in my stealth mode, invisible and flying above the streets of downtown Madrid as the sun is rising scoping for my next victim. I’m not going to go into complete detail about seeing all the possible futures for all the living souls I lay my eyes on, there’s just no way you humans could understand. You don’t have the capacity. Basically I see what that person is “supposed” to do and how much I can fuck with them without deviating from the Plan. Madrid is such a great place for this. It’s so dense I can see thousands of life paths within a couple block radiuses. Plenty of pickings.\n\nThen I spot the family. There’s the parents and the two kid, twins actually, a boy and a girl around the age of 7. “Oh how unfortunate,” I laugh as their destiny flashes before my eyes and I begin to descend. \n\nThen I see it. It’s one of the chosen helpers of the Big Fella. It’s in the form of a Spanish tour guide leading the family along. From the family’s destiny I can tell what his plan is as he leads them down the stairs into the Atocha train station. “How humane,” I mutter to myself. “But that would be too easy, too fast, too painless.” Finally landing I shift into the figure of a Spanish policeman carefully staying out of site of the tour guide. \n\nI enter the train station and look at the clock hanging in the center of the walk way. It’s flashing 7:33 in bright red neon numbers. Then I see the family having already bought their tickets riding the escalator down towards the platforms. I better hurry. \n\nI can hear the electricity of the tracks buzzing over the mass of people. The platform is packed full of humans, all of which think their own problems are the most important things in the world. Christ, they disgust me, but today it works to my advantage. \n\nThe train arrives and the people surge for the open doors. Every door is full of people trying to board and I watch as the family moves from door to door trying to find space. The tour guide spots a less full opening and hurries them to get onto the train before the doors shut. They’re listening to him and quickening their pace. I make sure to keep up as my equivalent of a heart begins to race. Just as the tour guide steps onto the train I make my move. I dash around an old man with a cane and grab the father and mother by the shoulder stopping the family from boarding. \n\n“Perdón, el tren está lleno tendrán que esperar,” I say in a thick Castilian accent. They don’t understand a word and that’s what I was going for. Confused and being addressed by a police officer they aren’t just going to hop onto the train. Then the tour guide sees me but it’s too late. The doors begin to shut and stuck behind people, he is unable to get off. The train begins to move and I smile while looking directly into his eyes. He knows.\n\nI win. \n\nI look up at the clock. 7:37. Perfect timing.\n \nThe family still confused as to what I said is just staring. \n\n“I saved you,” I said in perfect English. There’s no problem telling them that much. \n\nThe father even more confused now asks, “From what?”\n\nI look up at the clock again. “Any second now,” while pointing at the train leaving.\n\nThey all look and then the clock hits 7:38. \n\nBOOM!!!!! BOOM!!!!!BOOM!!!!\n\nThe sound is deafening as we watch as the train is blown apart from explosions. \nI begin to laugh and push the kids onto the rails and watch them squirm for a second why they are electrocuted. \n\nWhat a joy it is to see the father’s expressions. From confusion to horror to helplessness. Watching your kids die has got to be rough. I love it. He turns to look at me completely in shock and that’s when I shove him to join his kids. \n\nBy this time it reeks of a mix of the explosion and burning flesh. The mother has begun to scream. It doesn’t matter. Half the people still alive on the platform closer to the explosion are screaming. I absolutely adore the screams. They make me feel so alive. Everyone is rushing around in chaos and nobody is even aware of what I’m doing. Nor will they. The authorities will just think that after the explosion the family was pushed in on accident during the ensuing chaos. \n\nThe mom comes at me, hitting and bawling. Too weak to even move me I let her go about it for a while. Through sobs she’s yelling repeatedly, “Who are you, you monster, who are you?” \n\nI smile and grab onto her so she’s a foot from my face looking into my eyes. \n\n“Lucifer.”\n\nI throw her to her family.\n\nHey, it was supposed to happen. I just made it worth my while. \n\n\n………………………………………………………………………………………\n\nThis is my first submission to WP and I really did not think it would get that dark. Any advice would be appreciated. ", "\"Heh. The angel over at the Robertson's house is falling. She's been with the family for years but she keeps arguing with God for power. Wanna come watch? The house is pretty well cleansed so we can't go inside but it'll still be a riot.\" My friend, Kilro, imparts to me after a night of haunting an innocent child's dreams together.\n\n\"Maybe. Which angel is it?\" I say, slightly interested.\n\n\"A new one... Umm... About a couple hundred years old. About your age. Umm.. What's her name?\" He says.\n\nMy stomach (or where my stomach would be if I had a proper one) starts to ache. It is a leftover thing from when I was human that means I'm feeling uneasy. I think I know which angel he's referring to.\n\n\"Agnus?\" I offer, wincing a bit at the name.\n\nKilro slaps his green, scaley hands together and says: \"That\"s it! How'd you know?\"\n\n\"We have unfinished business.\" That's all I feel comfortable offering about the subject but it is extremely vague for the circumstances we'd been through, Agnus and I.\n\n\"Are you okay, Lob?\" Kilro asks, fixing his yellow eyes on me.\n\n\"Yeah. Yeah just... I need to haunt my home base. The Larsons have gotten just enough rest to think they're safe. I'll catch you later.\" I answer, knowing that that explanation won't be questioned.\n\n\"See ya.\" Says Kilro, picking his nose absently.\n\nAs I head to my home base I reflect on Agnus. She's the reason I am what I am now. We used to be married. She broke my heart. I spiralled into madness and sold my soul before I hung myself due to the consequences.\n\nAs I come up to the home I regularly haunt, I stop. My will just isn't in this now. I want to get back at Agnus. I need to get back at her.\n\nI spin around on my heel and head to the Robertson's. Everyone knows where those do-gooders live. I just never knew it was Agnus supposedly protecting them.\n\nWhen I get there I'm taken aback by the light the house emits. Agnus can't be falling too fast if the place looks like this. Damn.\n\nI get as close as I can without feeling pain. That happens to be the front steps.\n\n\"Aggie!\" I shout before I can stop myself, surprised by the word as it comes out of my mouth.\n\nThen I see her. She's standing at the window and looks like a caricature of herself. She's in a white, flowing gown bathed in white light. I intake a breath sharply. \n\n\"Who-\" she starts, but then she looks into my eyes. They're the only thing that has stayed relatively the same except for their colour (purple). A look of recognition spreads pver her face, and then a look of contempt.\n\n\"Come out here. We need to talk. It has been long enough.\" I shout, folding my arms.\n\nAgnus floats through the door and crosses her arms, mirroring me. She always did that.\n\n\"What do -you- want?\" She asks rudely.\n\n\"Geeze. I thought angels were supposed to be nice. I just want to... Ummm...\" I start, but all the angry things I wanted to say to guilt her are gone. I just want to hold her. But I'm a demon. How is that possible?\n\n\"Oh, look at you. Have you been sucking up to God? You're getting a kind of glow. You sicken me.\" She says, turning away to walk off.\n\n\"Agnus! I never thought I'd say this but... I forgive you.\" The words come out of my mouth with a sour taste, but they're there and I mean them.\n\nAgnus scoffs. \"Forgive? What? I'm tired as shit of all these people forgiving me. As if I was a horrible person in life. As if. Wow. I'm a fucking angel, you know.\" Just as she says this, her glow starts to diminish and I feel a chill as a cloud covers the sun.\n\n\"Don't you see, Agnus? You're falling. You've become prideful in your time as an angel. You need to stop or you'll end up like me.\" I say, feeling pain for her.\n\n\"Nope. Not becoming like you. You're soft. You're deteriorating. At this rate you're gonna be reborn human to get a second chance. What a horrible fate.\" Agnus says, almost spitting at the word 'human.'\n\nAt this point it's starting to rain and I can see Agnus falling further. \"At least leave those poor people alone. Dear God, don't make those people have to deal with such a horrible fate. Please.\" I all of a sudden really feel what I'm saying and can see a sort of glow start to surround me.\n\n\"Newsflash: God doesn't listen to demons. Let alone puny ones like you.\" Agnus retorts.\n\nIn an instant Agnus starts to scream. She is sinking through the ground as if she's pudding going through a sponge. I warned her. She descended to hell. That's exactly what I was trying to prevent... However, God knows best.\n\nI can feel myself fill up with light and start to ascend. I can hear God in my head: \"Nathan. Let's give you another shot, shall we?\"\n\n\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] You are cursed to wake up in a different body every morning, there is only one way to break the curse.	[ "\"So let me get this straight. You wake up every morning, and you're in a different body.\"\n\n\"That's correct.\"\n\n\"And you've somehow figured out that I am your next body.\"\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\"And when the switch happens, I won't realize a thing. I'll just go on with my normal life, with a completely different wife, set of kids, job... basically a whole different life. And nobody will realize a thing. Except you.\"\n\n\"Bingo.\"\n\nThe man stared at me in utter disbelief. \"You're a loon.\"\n\nI shrugged. \"I teach quantum physics. I get that a lot.\" This was true; when I wake up each morning, in a new body, I usually stay in bed for at least 30 minutes, just going through all the new information and memories. I've been called a loon or some variant at least a dozen times in \"my\" life.\n\nHe sighed. \"Look,\" he said, rubbing his temples. \"Can't you just leave me to my dinner in peace? I didn't take you for some crazy guy since you're so well-dressed and polite, but clearly I was wrong. Do you want money? Is that it?\" \n\nMy eyes flickered down to his half-eaten Chipotle burrito. \"No,\" I said flatly, still looking at the food. \"I just want it to stop.\"\n\n\"Want what to stop?\" he asked wearily. \n\n\"This curse,\" I said simply. \"It was incredible at first: seeing, living so many different lives. So many things I've seen. So much knowledge, obtained with zero effort. So many different women who've loved me. \n\nBut I've had bad experiences, too,\" I added grimly.\n\nHe rolled his eyes. As the silence wore on, the curiosity got the better of him and he asked, albeit grudgingly: \"like what?\"\n\n\"Abuse. War. Starvation. Disease,\" I replied. My voice was toneless, but my memories, full to the brim, echoed of the horrors I had endured in some of my lifetimes. \"Yesterday, I was trying to rescue my son from warlords in some nightmarish city in Uganda. He didn't make it. I almost didn't, either.\"\n\nHe ran a hand over his face and groaned softly. \"Look, I'm sorry about your...Ugandan son. And I hope you figure out a way to, uh, break the curse,\" he said. \"But I'm going to go now. And if you follow me, I'm going to call the cops.\" I watched in silence as he picked up his belongings, re-wrapped his food, and drained the rest of his water bottle. He left the restaurant without another look back at me. After a few moments, I began to get up as well.\n\nBut I have figured out a way, I thought. I had always imagined my daily body-shifting to be something like a row of dominoes; as the day ended, one piece fell onto the other and my mind transferred into the next life. My new-found knowledge and access to university lab equipment had served to confirm it today, and helped me find this man.\n\nSpeaking of which, there was only one way to end this. As I exited the establishment, I saw his receding figure in the distance. I had already followed him earlier and figured out he lived alone in a broken-down part of the city, in an apartment complex with prostitutes, dealers, and druggies for neighbors. Nobody would bat an eye if he were to suddenly snuff out during the night.\n\nAfter all, what's the simplest way to stop a row of dominoes from progressing? You take out the next piece.\n\n\n\n", "Emma, John, Francis I go by many names in this life. Everyday a new person, new life, new experience, I have stopped guessing who I'll be tomorrow by now. At first was mortified as I woke the first day as a completely different gender. I awoke my new family and they believed I was delirious. I tried to convince what seemed like my parents that I was not myself or rather this new person. They had taken me to the hospital where the doctor had assumed I had developed an dissociative disorder, but he's wrong I still remembered who I was. I spent the night in the hospital. When u awoke the next morning to find myself sleeping on the street on a thin piece of cardboard. I panicked not remembering for a brief moment of what occurred yesterday. I was in an abandoned alley way next to a dumpster, a typical bum. Scouring the ground I spied a piece of glass, I snatched it off the ground without caution of cutting my hand. An older man looked in the mirror with a dirty and worn face. My heart sunk as I curled into a fetal position and began to cry.\n\n\"This is not me, this is not my life.\"\n\n My eyes turned toward the sky to look for an answer. An act of God I believed at the time a punishment for all of my wrong doings in life. I proceeded to walk across the street with all the others. All sentient beige, each leading their own lives for years and years, they don't know who I am and never will. The thought of being stuck in that body sickened me to no end at this point. I began to panic and grabbed strangers in the street.\n\n\"Do you know who I am!?\" \n\nThe woman shrieked and hit my over the head with what I presumed was a brick filled bag as I slipped Ito unconsciousness.\n\nYes, now I was aware this time I thought as I awoke in a blanketed bed. Each day a new vessel for my soul, never to come back to. It is as if each day is my last day to live, zero repercussions from the previous day. This time I was calm upon seeing in the mirror I was a young dark boy. The room was cluttered with toys and drawings. \n\n\"How whimsical and amusing.\" I thought out loud \n\nI covered my mouth quickly realizing that isn't something a child would say. I realized if I could keep up a good act, I could live each day anew and new memories. A few times I tried to locate my previous self's location but it always turned up cold information. For a while it was enjoyable, a few times I was marrow and had kids already. Happy lives, normal lives, and sad ones. After a while if forgotten how many days have passed or even what I originally looked like. A few times I experimented by killing myself, it only resulted in a new body. I tried to not sleep as long as I could but one can only stay awake for so long. One night as I excitedly went to bed hoping I'd get to be a millionaire tomorrow I awoke differently. Things felt too familiar as if I had been here before. But that was impossible, in all this had never repeated a life, it didn't feel right. I stumbled from the bed and looked in the mirror. It was more shocking than all of the other faces I ever had, it was my own. It took me a while but I recognized it, it looked as if it hadn't aged a day from when I left it. A stream of joy flew over me realizing that I was back. My happiness soon fleated ask soon realized I would be another person the next day. An unusual gun rested in my desk; strange being I had never owned a firearm. However, I saw it as a sign that if I were to die this time, something would be different. I took the gun into my hands and mused over it for some time. I realized, I'll never live a whole life, only segments of different chapters of different books. A positioned the gun next to my head and closed my eyes. \n\n\"If I'm going to die, I'm going to die as myself.\" I whispered as I pulled the trigger and ended the cycle.\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are given a revolver with one bullet, how would you use it?	[ "I admire the weapon's sleek design and check the safety. It's off. Good.\n\nI give the tumbler a spin and enjoy the sound it makes. The weight feels off though.\n\nI check the weapon again and notice a single bullet is left in the chamber. Deftly I remove the bullet and for the umpteenth time I lecture a customer on gun safety.\n\nAfter my little speech I offer the customer a nice price for his late father's gun and suggest a taser. Less deathly accidents, takes assailants out just as well as a gun and the little solar cell ensures a steady supply of clean energy.\n", "It used to be, centuries ago when ships sailed on water and not between stars, that marooning was reserved only for the most deserving. A bastard captain mutinied by his crew or a deckhand so inept he'd cost the life and morale of his fellows.\n\nBack then though, you were guaranteed a few things, besides rations and shot. Air, light. The knowledge that no matter how marooned a man could be, humanity was still within reach. A horizon was all that separated you.\n\nJack leant against a rock and looked up towards the heavens. He'd spent the last hour trying in vein to work out which star was home, but realised his astronavigation ended with the seven constellations every school kid new on Merrick. His suit beeped at him again. 90 minutes O2 remaining.\n\n\"To you, arseholes,\" he said, drawing the last of his bourbon through a straw.\n\nThey'd mutinied. Who did that these days? Decided the haul was too good to give to their employer and financier and left him on a rock that's only name consisted of a computer generated string of letters and numbers.\n\nTwo pellets of air, 4 hours a pop. Water and a gel paste. And his nickel-plated recoilless gauss pistol. One aluminium round in the draw and enough charge to punch through the helmet of his vac suit.\n\nHe placed the muzzle against the weakest spot on the biweave of his helmet and took one last breath of bottled air.\n\n\"Captain, we made a mistake, \" his suit comms buzzed." ]	2
The bad guy discovers fan fiction about his/her/it/their self/selves and that it has been written by the good guy	[WP] The bad guy discovers fan fiction written about himself by the good guy.	[ "My tears were lost in the rain, but I knew they were still there. Joined by thousands more. The waters washed away my future, the ripples from the replicant Deckard leaving me in solitude.\n\nHe wrote of me. And of my kin. We live such short lives. Brutal. I have travelled further than a thousand souls of flesh and bone. Done things that no living man has set eyes upon. And all my efforts are compounded and distilled into manilla reports. Written by a man who fails to see his own efforts for the mirror it is.\n\nThe rain may cool me for now. It may sap my power and draw me close to the lip of the rooftops. But dawn will break. And I will find the blade runner who took my dreams.", "\"Give the haul to Charles.\"\n\nMy grunt begrudgingly handed the burlap sack to the accountant. Putting cash in a burlap sack branded with a dollar sign may seem passe, but if I don't preserve the traditions, who would?\n\nA single incandescent bulb illuminated the room. The windows were draped with thick, dark curtains to keep the appearance of a vacant warehouse. I slipped the smart phone I nicked from the street--unlocked. Foolish. I turned on the wireless hotspot and approached the laptop stationed on a rusted table.\n\nHave my exploits hit the newsfeeds yet? Does he know yet?\n\nI entered my name in the search engine--forgetting to turn on the news filter. The usual suspect appeared, a criminal profile page, my wikipedia page, my facebook fan page. Before modifying my search, one result caught my eye. Fanfiction.net?\n\nCuriosity pulled the cursor to the link, my finger out of my control. I began reading.\n\nIt was a flattering image of myself. The story hailed my intelligence, made reference to my cut figure, paid respect to my honor. I read further, the story was about how I bested the police with my unbreakable alibi. I remembered the events fondly. When I was under investigation for killing the deputy mayor, I was in the Caribbean.\n\nSomething began to nag at me, however. There were details in the story that the police did not know. Like how I infiltrated their network to modify the evidence. Or how I served as president of the A/V club in highschool.\n\nWait. Wikipedia doesn't even know that piece of history. I had long since abandoned my civilian identity. The only person who could know about my personal life before my turn to crime would be...\n\nMy stomach sank. I scrolled back to the top of the story and looked at the author. MrFabulous69.\n\nI checked his profile. Dozens of my escapades listed themselves before me. The time I hijacked Airforce One. The time I took down Wall Street. The time I hijacked a nuclear submarine. The time I assassinated the President of Centralia. The time I hijacked a taco truck.\n\nAll of my proudest achievements were there, under his name.\n\nI turned off the monitor in disgust and smashed the smartphone under foot. I looked back at the laptop and saw the shadow of a reflection behind my shoulder.\n\n\"You, uh... You saw that, huh?\"\n\nMr. Fabulous stood in the center of the room, wrangling his fingers. His face was flushed red. I glanced about the room. Mr. Fabulous, true to his name, did a marvelous job pummeling my cohorts and destroying my abode. All without making a sound.\n\n\"Why? Why did you write them?\" I asked.\n\nHe shifted uncomfortably in his shoes. \"Well... I mean, you have a fan page. You have people who follow your every move, but they don't know. They don't know just how clever you are because the details are never released to the public.\"\n\n\"Why do you care about how I'm perceived?\"\n\n\"Because... dammit, it's really hard to beat you!\" Mr. Fabulous exclaimed. \"People think superhero work is easy. It's not! I mean, think about it, I have a reputation as a lugheaded meat factory. If the people knew the work I had to put into stopping you, maybe then people would appreciate me.\"", "\"Chief?\" says a tiny voice from behind my immense recliner.\n\n\"Jeeves?\" I reply to the little man with the large envelope in his hands.\n\n\"Sir,\" he begins and stops. Looking away uncomfortably.\n\nI hate it when the underlings get this way. I'm a digital villain, not a murderer. I rob banks electronically. I foreclose houses on the rich and famous for giggles over the internet. I'm not going to kill someone. Even if he did interrupt my after-lunch nap. I sigh, giving him a look. He coughs.\n\n\"Sir, some of the boys have been tracking what your, uh, nemesis, Mr. Sparkles has been posting on the internet...\" He stops suddenly again, going a slight shade of pink.\n\nBlushing? Really? He's much too old for that!\n\nI reach out and gently take the fat envelope from his slightly shaking fingers.\n\nAs I open the envelope and take out the half-ream of paper there within;\n\n\"Sir, he seems to have written some, uh, fan fiction. About you.\" Jeeves can't meet my eye, is he blushing again?\n\nI begin to read the papers. Nodding to myself. Mr. Sparkles has done me a good deed, it seems. Looks like he thinks very highly of me. He paints me as strong and confident to his shy and passive nature... Wait.\n\n\"WHAT!\" I bellow.\n\nJeeves huddles into himself, shivering.\n\n\"THIS isn't 'fan fiction'! It's SLASH FICTION! About me and... HIM?? Is he insane?\" I'm a little miffed. \n\nI mean, I always knew that Mr. Sparkles was a little different. But this? With me?? Never! Not in a million years! I'm a villain! He... He's a Good Guy! It would never work. \n\nI mean, I'm not like that!\n\n\"How many people have seen this?\" I ask poor, frightened Jeeves.\n\n\"It's hard to say, sir.\" He begins. \"Joe, he's the senior engineer this week, says that the site has been hit over a million times, but that only about a quarter of them are unique.\"\n\nMy breath quickly escapes me. I lean back into the enfolding comfort of my seat.\n\nUpwards of two hundred fifty thousand people have read this? More than once??\n\n\"Is... is there anything else on that site?\" I inquire.\n\nJeeves wrings his hands together before answering.\n\n\"No, sir. It's just prose of you and Mr. Sparkles and your very, uh, masculine intimate moments together.\"\n\n\"We'll need to kill this, of course.\" I say, lost in thought.\n\n\"Yes, sir\"\n\n\"But I suppose,\" I start, then clear my throat. \"I suppose it can wait a day or so. Let's track it. See who goes and what the readership is like.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\"I want hardcopy of everything written on there! All the stories and the comments!\" I demand.\n\n\"Sir?\" says Jeeves.\n\n\"For... For the records, or course.\" I reply.\n\n\"Of course, sir.\" Jeeves says as he takes his leave.\n\nI sit, thinking about recent events.\n\n\"Me and Mr Sparkles,\" I whisper to the empty room, \"Bah! Never gonna happen!\"\n\nCould it? I think to myself." ]	3
Standardized melee weapons are provided. All competitions are to the death. The winning planet gains immunity from the next year's competition.	[WP] Two people are representatives of Earth in an intergalactic gladiatorial style competition.	[ "\"I'm coming out\"\n\nSloan tightened the grip on the short sword she held, watching the stranger step out from behind a wall. The man was tall, well built but not overly muscled. Someone who knew how to handle themselves in a fight and judging from the scars that lined his bare arms, had seen his fair share of.\n\n\"You army?\" she asked.\n\n\"SAS,\" he replied, with a British accent. \"Townsend. You can put the sharp stick down.\"\n\nShe would have grinned if it wasn't for the adrenaline rising and falling in her blood at every encounter. Townsend drew closer, keeping his arms by his side, but not too close it looked like he was reaching for a weapon.\n\n\"You look lost. Miss...\"\n\n\"Sloan.\"\n\n\"Just Sloan? No regiment? Nationality?\"\n\n\"I'm between jobs.\"\n\n\"Just my luck. PMC.\"\n\nTownsend chuckled and turned, surveying the ruins they'd found themselves in. Everything was off. Sloan could feel it. She'd taken jobs in every country that could afford her services and none of this felt familiar to her. She'd followed what looked to be an old animal grazing path, finding the ruins of an old fort that clung to the side of a mountain.\n\n\"Any idea where we are?\" she said, watching the older man finish his observation.\n\n\"I'd say somewhere in Yorkshire, judging by the wildlife.\"\n\n\"What?!\"\n\nSloan was fast. More than one grunt had lost his pay to her in foolish bets against. But Townsend had drawn the hatchet from the webbing on his back and flung it past her before she even heard the hiss.\n\nThe axe buried itself up to the hilt in the small creature. It was all legs and shell and pincers, a crab that had dreamt of being a scorpion. Townsend brushed past her without a word, placing a boot against the animal as he pulled his weapon free.\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\nHe merely grunted in response. The creatures blood was a deep purple, oozing in small spurts from the wound as it writhed and finally gave up.\n\n\"Enough to make an MRE look appetising.\"\n\n\"This thing is an alien,\" Sloan said, crouching next to it and poking it with her sword. \"Where the hell did it come from?\"\n\nTownsend gently got her to stand up by placing a hand on her elbow. She bristled at the motion. But his gaze wasn't on her.\n\n\"I think we're the aliens,\" he said.\n\nThe creature that stood at the end of the passage was monstrous. And it was looking straight at her.", "I leaped into the air, my body spinning parallel to the ground as a barbed tail swept under me, the other's plasma spear slicing a crackling path over me. In a single moment, I saw the surprise in the second's eyes, his spear catching only a few inches of dark brown hair as I flew towards him. My dagger flashed towards his head. He had barely managed to avoid decapitation when I swung my left arm around, plunging my second dagger into a gap in his scaly skin. The stench of his burning flesh engulfed me.\n\nMy partner had died many rounds ago. He hadn't even died in the ring. He had been caught cheating, trying to weaponize the ring's force-field. The illegal weapon had been removed, and his head soon after.\n\nI deftly twisted my dagger, ensuring this Draconian wouldn't get back up. The air whistled behind me and I dove forward, rolling and turning around to face my final foe. I had come so far. I couldn't fail now. My people and so many others depended on me.\n\nThe Tors had instituted these annual games for fun. All the conquered Empires were forced to participate. That had been one of the reasons Earth had fought, so many years ago, in an alliance against the Tors. After thousands of planets, systems, even whole civilizations had been consumed by the war, it had been brought to a stalemate. But not before Earth had been taken.\n\nHe rushed at me. He, I respected. Of all the opponents I had faced in the ring, he alone I feared. But I knew his weakness. He didn't know mine. His slashes came fast and furious. I never had more than one foot on the ground, relying on my reflexes to keep me alive. I had to get close to him. I had to use his weakness.\n\nHe paused for a moment. I had led him in a circle. I took a step back, cut off his partner's head, and threw it at him. Even through his hard skin, I could see the horrified expression frozen on his face. It never had time to change for my dagger, sailing just below the severed head.\n\nThe finals were an enormous event. The winners gained fame across the Empire and their planet was granted immunity from the next year's games. Everybody who was anybody attended the finals.\n\nThe cheers of the crowd roared through the forcefield. I ran to the second corpse, and retrieved my dagger. I pressed my dagger's hilts together, fusing them. As the lights flickered on, I prayed that my partner had done his job. He knew the weaponization module would be found. We had hoped they would overlook his second, more subtle modification to the power generator. I threw my fused daggers at the force-field.\n\nAnd they went right through. The damaged power generator couldn't supply enough power to both maintain the force-field and turn on everything in the stadium. My makeshift projectile sailed into the Emperor's box, straight into his chest. Then it exploded.\n\nSirens began to wail as explosions shook the stadium. The Second Intergalactic War had begun." ]	2
	[WP] One day, you stop recognising the voice inside your head.	[ "Get up and get dressed. Burn toast. Skip breakfast.Drive to work. Work. Drive home. Take second left off the motorway to get milk. Get home. Watch T.V. Eat dinner. Sleep. The rhythm of my life is slow and repetitive, predictable; like a bad sit com without the high-jinks and hilarity. \rI got bored at work once and did some calculations, I have been following the same routine for three years. No deviation. My life is boring. I've never hunted my fellow man for sport let alone taken the scenic route home from work, but today I feel free. I'll explain.\rI was in the supermarket carpark, the milk was turning sour in the backseat and I was thinking about Jim. He served me everyday at the same till, with the same practiced greeting and etiquette, but today he had sneered. It's hard to explain but this hurt and infuriated me more than most insults would have.\rA voice from a part of my head I haven't listened to in years spoke to me. I left the car and got the spare fuel canister from the boot. I walked into the supermarket, not even looking up at Jim, and walked down the aisles as I let loose a steady flow of fuel until the canister was empty. I threw it aside and found myself in the utilities aisle.\rI picked up a lighter with a picture of a rather nice woman on it and threw it onto the trail of fuel. As I left the supermarket I saw Jim's eyes widen as 30000 worth of stock burnt. Even before I got to my car the security guard tackled me onto the tarmac and pinned my arms behind my back. I'm so glad I stopped taking my meds.", "It had been couple of months. A dull couple of months. School was getting to me. I tried concentrating, but the world outside kept calling to me. Kept screaming in my ears. Today, in particular, was dreadful.\n\nKeep your chin up.\n\n\"No, I just couldn't. Freddie told me exactly what I needed to hear. I wanted to break free.\"\n\nThat was your inspirational speech?\n\n\"Yes, it was. Why are you so worried. You know I can't get into trouble. And what's wrong with your voice?\"\n\nConcentrate on what's ahead of you.\n\nSo I walked that day. For hours. Until the day had now retired.\n\nDon't you have to get home.\n\n\"Not yet. Just a while longer.\" My throat was parched and I was sweating. I desperately needed a cold drink. So I decided to enter the deli just up ahead. \nAs I neared the store, something felt off. There was a car parked outside the store. Keys in the ignition, engine running. \n\nThis doesn't seem right. Call the police.\n\n\"Let me take a quick look.\" So I peered through the glass window. \"Holy shit!\" Two guys were robbing the place and they were armed with semi-automatics.\n\nLanguage!\n\n\"Are you kidding me? That's what you picked up on. What the hell is wrong with you.\" I shook my head and headed to the back of the building. The door to the back of the store was unlocked. I entered silently and assessed the situation.\n\nI never wanted this for you.\n\nIgnoring the stupid voice in my head, I placed both my hands on the wall.\n\nNo! Not here. \n\nSo I crawled on my hands and knees till I reached the first perpetrator. Both of them were busy stuffing the bag with cash. This was my chance!\nI jumped and and managed to land my knee on the first mans head, knocking him out cold. Meanwhile, the second man pulled the storekeeper over the counter and put the barrel to his temple. \n\n\"NO!\", I screamed,\"Wait. Think about what you're about to do.\"\n\nBut the man had made up his mind. As he pulled the trigger, my right shoulder caught his stomach knocking his breath out for a second. But at the same exact moment, the storekeeper breathed his last. \n\nImmediately, emotions of rage, anger and fury erupted, as I grabbed the pistol and put the barrel into the mouth of the murderer. \n\nDon't do it! Screamed the voice in my head\n\n\"He deserves to die.\"\n\nThat isn't your decision, son.\n\nMy eyes opened wide, as the police sirens got louder. I whispered.\n\n\"Uncle Ben?\"", "Michael was a strange boy. Ever since he could understand a language, he could hear a voice in his head. He told his parents at age 5 about \"Nathan\". His parents just thought he was an imaginary friend and told him that he had a great imagination. Michael knew it wasn't his imagination. Nathan was too real to be just his imagination.\n\nNathan followed Michael throughout his school life, from primary to intermediate school, going to high school and then a well respected university. Michael owed it all to Nathan. Nathan gave him the correct answers, Nathan gave him the words to say to get out of trouble, Nathan gave him a reputation in school, Nathan was never wrong.\n\nNathan and Michael were good friends, you wouldn't really want to get on the bad side of somebody in your head. Whenever Michael wanted somebody to talk to, wether it be for personal problems or boredom, Nathan was the man.\n\nOne day, Michael woke up feeling refreshed and ready to go to work. Wondering what to have for breakfast, a voice started speaking.\n\n\"Good morning Michael!\"\n\nMichaels eyes widened, he closed his pantry door and frantically looked around. \n\n\"Hello? Who's there?\" Michael spoke aloud.\n\n\"What're you speaking out loud for? Do that in public and people'll think you're crazy.\"\n\n\"What the hell? Who are you?\"\n\n\"Uh, hello? The guy in your head? The guy who got you a job at 17?\"\n\n\"I'm going crazy, I must be...\"\n\nMichael ate his breakfast, got changed and headed off to work. As he was driving, he noticed that the voice was saying things.\n\n\"Michael! Michael? Hello? It's Nathan? Your buddy?\"\n\n\"Look man, I don't know what this is but this is starting to freak me out.\"\n\n\"Dude, how can you not remember me? I've been in your head since you were like, 4.\"\n\n\"I don't know you! I don't know what this is! For all I know I'm going insane!\"\n\nNathan let out a sigh and stopped talking for a while. Michael arrived at his workplace and had a chat with his co-workers. He sat down at his desk and switched on his computer. As it was booting up, he stared out his window and saw what he would see every day. Tall buildings, people and cars waiting at the intersection, all that stuff. Michael noticed one thing in particular, a dark black van parked on the side of the road. Michael stared at it and it seemingly stared back, when suddenly 6 heavily armed men jumped out the doors. \n\n\"Shit shit shit shit\" \n\nMichael heard the voice in his head again.\n\n\"What happened?\"\n\n\"Look Michael. I know you don't know who I am and stuff, but please just do what I say. I want you to get out of this building as fast as you can and get as far away from it as possible.\"\n\n\"And why the hell should I listen to you?\"\n\n\"Michael ple-\"\n\nSuddenly, Michael heard an explosion." ]	3
	[WP] You're a boy in a boy scout uniform that's been ripped to shreds. Why?	[ "Plot twist: I was trapped in a tent with my child molesting scout leader when the zombie outbreak reached our remote campsite via squirrel. The squirrel bit a rat which chewed through the tent and bit my leader. Realizing this, i scrambled to my flash light only to find the battery's dead. So i do the next logical thing, and launch it at his head, stunning the brain craving monster only feet away from me. queue slow motion I grab my swiss army knife and cut a hole in the tent and start to jump. As my lower body starts to pass the hole something grabs my ankle. queue normal speed and you guessed it. I am now infected. Slowly rising up in my slowly decaying corpse, i feel a craving, not brains, but a something much, much, different, the craving to dance like a molly popping hippie, tearing my clothes up bit by bit to make confetti to accompany my sweet moves. ", "\"I like being a boy scout. I like the camping, I like the fishing, I like hanging out my friends, and if you suffer through the boring stuff, every once in a while they even teach you something cool. I really, really just wish we didn't have to bring Jules along. Every time.\"\n\n\"Shane, quit picking on your sister,\" said my Dad.\n\n\"It's called boy scouts. Boyscouts. If Ricky and I have to let her play Smash bros. with us every time that's fine, we just beat her anyway. But this is the one place she isn't allowed to be, and every time we drag her along she just slows me down and the other kids make fun of me for it. It's not like she wants to come either! Tell him! You've been asking to go home the whole ride here.\"\n\nJules stubbornly shut up for the first time the whole trip.\n\n\"Maybe Jules would like camping more if you stopped picking on her so much. You're her brother, you're supposed to stand up for her. She won't be bothering you too long anyway, there's a horse ranch nearby and we're going to go ride one.\"\n\n\"Horses!?\" Jules said, sitting up in her seat.\n\n\"That's right. And Shane, if you're nice, maybe I'll let you come too.\"\n\n\"There are horses at home,\" I said, annoyed, and to be fair there probably were. Somewhere. Maybe.\n\n\"Well, it doesn't matter anyway because we're here. C'mon, help me get the stuff out of the trunk.\"\n\nThe car creaked to a halt. I spent a few more disappointed moments sitting in the car seat, when Ricky knocked on the window.\n\n\"Dude! Shane! George's dad brought a gun!\" Ricky said, grabbing my arm.\n\n\"Can we see it?!\" I asked, and I promptly forgot my father's request to help him unpack.\n\n George's dad was standing inside a small crowd of scouts, giving a speech. \"Now kids!\" he said, \"remember, safety first!\" and all of the children nodded, despite the completely unsafe things they were thinking about doing not moments before.\n\n\"Did you have to bring the gun?\" called out a mother from the parking lot. I always felt bad for the kids whose moms brought them.\n\n\"Troop leader Chanda said--\" \n\n\"I know what Chanda said! But just because you CAN bring a gun doesn't mean you should! This trip is supposed to be about wood carving--\"\n\n\"Wood carving?\" I asked, \"does that mean we get to use knives? Are we getting totin' chips?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the mother, \"no.\" I looked crestfallen. \"But if you're good, and you all prove you can handle it, you'll get them next trip.\"\n\nRicky and I looked at each other excited. Once he got his totin' chip he would get to carry around a cool dagger his grandpa got while fighting in Korea. I'd seen it, it was huge.\n\n\"Who cares about knifes,\" said George, \"my Dad is going to let me fire a gun. He even gave me a box of ammo, look!\"\n\nNo one really liked George.\n\n\"Dude. We're going to do such a good job,\" I said.\n\n\"I'm going to actually pay attention to the stupid lessons about leaves they teach us,\" said Ricky, which was a major commitment, because leaves are super boring.\n\n\"We got this,\" I said, and we did our secret fist bump.\n\n\"I'm going to get the totin' chip first,\" said Carl from behind us.\n\n\"Nuh uh!\" I answered reflexively.\n\n\"Let it go. He's just trying to make you mad\" said Ricky. I ignored him.\n\n\"Why don't you go join girl scouts with your little sister?\" asked Carl, successfully making me mad.\n\n\"You aren't allowed to see our secret fist bump!\" I shouted back. Ricky hid his head in embarrassment.\n\n\"After dinner,\" said Carl, \"I'm going to sneak into the woods and practice so I'm sure to get it first.\"\n\n\"You don't even have a knife how are you going to--\"\n\n\"SHANE! I told you to help me unpack!\" said my Dad, angry, \"now c'mon!\"\n\nThat night, after dinner, Ricky and I snuck into the woods. We couldn't tell on Carl to scout master Chanda, we weren't squealers. But we weren't about to Carl get a head start on us, either. We'd spend the whole day looking for arrow heads in the woods, and we'd found two that would probably let us practice. One of them was really good, too. But after hiking for 30 minutes, we couldn't find Carl anywhere. All we found was an old train car, sitting on the tracks, about 15 minutes from camp.\n\n\"Dude,\" said Ricky, \"is this supposed to be here?\"\n\nThere was something wrong with that cart. Maybe it was how the sounds of the forest sounded eerily distant once we saw it. Maybe it was how the paint looked clean, like none of the animals had touched it. Maybe it was how all the shades were open in every room. But Ricky and I knew right then, we weren't exploring any further, we were going back to camp immediately, and we weren't telling anyone about this place.\n\n*\n\nThey didn't find Carl until the next morning. He was lying by the lakeside, with huge cuts all over his face. The adults wouldn't let us see him, they just carried him to the cabins a couple of miles down the road where doctors could take care of him. He'd dove into the lake from a tree branch, they told us. None of the kids bought it.\n\n\"He hurt himself using the knife,\" said a kid named Andrew, \"I know he snuck out last night to practice with it.\"\n\n\"He didn't have a knife,\" said Ricky.\n\n\"Then what? How'd he cut his face so bad? On branches?\"\n\n\"He went into the train,\" said a quiet kid from the back. He was new to the troop, and he looked out of place with an oversized hoodie despite how warm it was outside.\n\n\"Who are you?\" I asked.\n\n\"Ben,\" he answered. Then after an awkward silence, he pulled a gameboy out of his pocket.\n\n\"What train?\" asked Andrew, curious.\n\n\"Ricky and I saw it earlier,\" I said, \"It's pretty freaky though, I don't want to go back.\"\n\n\"Wait,\" said Ben, \"you're scared of that thing? It's just an abandoned car.\"\n\n\"Yeah well...\" I stammered.\n\n\"Well are you going to show it to me or not?\" interrupted Andrew. Ben led the way.\n\nEven in the daylight the car freaked me out. Why would it just be sitting there, in the middle of the tracks. If another train came by wouldn't there be a collision? Train cars are valuable you don't just leave them behind. It didn't make any sense, and there was something else I just couldn't place. Something that made my hair stand on end every time I saw it.\n\n\"See?\" said Ben, \"not scary at all.\"\n\n\"If you aren't scared go in there,\" I said.\n\n\"Hell no!\" said Ben, and I let out a little gasp. We weren't allowed to say Hell.\n\n\"Then admit you're scared,\" I goaded.\n\n\"Screw you guys,\" said Ben, \"I liked my old troop better.\" He turned to leave.\n\n\"Look in the window,\" said Ricky.\n\nBen froze.\n\n\"If something is in there that cut Carl, like you said, I wanna know what it is. If you aren't scared, then prove it. Look in the window.\"\n\nBen found his resolve. \"Alright,\" he said, \"one look.\"\n\n\"The room with the shades down,\" I said.\n\n\"How am I supposed to see in there?\" asked Ben.\n\n\"Through the gap.\"\n\n\"Whatever,\" he said. \"But you have to give me a boost.\"\n\nI really, really didn't want to get any closer, but I wasn't backing down now. Together, we stepped away from the safety of the woods and walked up the hill to the tracks. I got down on one knee, and clasped my hands together so he'd have a step.\n\n\"Look,\" I said sheepishly, \"if you don't want to do this I'll tell them you did.\"\n\n\"Dude,\" he said stepping up. \"I'm not scared.\" He pressed his face to the glass, and cupped his eyes with his hands. \"It's too dark in there, I can't see\". He pulled out his SP and shined light inside. \"There's something in there! I can't see because of the glare.\" Slowly, he grabbed the outside of the window and started to open it. \"Oh... my god...\"\n\nI was too scared. My grip faltered and I let go of his foot. He came tumbling down on top of me. His face had gone completely white, and he was sweating.\n\n\"Wh-what was in there?\" I asked.\n\nHe wouldn't answer. He just slowly crawled down the hill to the tree line. We stood around him for 90 minutes, trying to calm him down, before adults showed up. He wouldn't walk, he would speak, and he definitely wouldn't say what was inside the train.\n\nSomeone went and got Ben's father, who was sitting at camp using his laptop to work remotely. He didn't seem all that concerned about the health of his son. It was kind of sad. After a few questions, he asked if Ben wanted to go home. Ben nodded, and his dad helped him to his feet.\n\n\"Do you have all your things?\" his Dad asked. Ben shook his head no.\n\n\"My SP,\" Ben said, \"it fell in there.\"\n\n\"Did you really drop your damn Nintendo?\" his Dad said, annoyed, \"hold on I'll be right back.\"\n\n\"Don't go in there,\" I said, quietly, as I watched him leave.\n\nHe was inside for 10 minutes. After that, he came stumbling out, and the skin from his face was gone.\n\n*\n\nWe all moved camp to the cabins that night. There were park rangers there who would keep us safe, and in the morning we were all going to leave. Andrew and I hadn't spoken since the incident, even though all the kids in the troop were trying to get us to say what happened. Ricky and his dad went home.\n\nWe didn't know what to do with Be. He didn't trust any of the adults, and he didn't like any of the boycouts. Eventually, my Dad suggested he spend the night with Jules, who wasn't either, and Ben liked that idea. Then it was lights out.\n\nI didn't sleep a wink.\n\nIn the middle of the night, around 4 A.M., I heard the door to the cabin shut. I bolted upright in my bed, and watched the silhouette of Jules open the door. She slipped outside, and I heard it shut again. I looked over where she'd been sleeping. Ben was gone too. I crept out of bed and into the night.\n\nI wandered the woods for a bit, trying to find them, when I heard a scream. I ran towards it, hoping it wasn't coming from the train but knowing it couldn't have come from anywhere else. I got there and found the hill empty. But I heard the sound of Jules' weeping coming from inside.\n\nCONTINUED IN NEXT POST" ]	2
	[WP] A species of sentient fish prepare for their invasion of the surface world.	[ "Flounder swam through the leather bandolier he’d found in the depths of a shipwreck, letting the current lift his body up so that it got caught around his waist. He wiggled around to ensure it was latched on, the strap of leather shifting slightly as he moved. It would have to do, however, as he had no thumbs and could not tighten the silver clasp any more than it currently was.\n\n“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Guppy said, his tiny mouth gnawing at the black pistol. There was clearly no way he’d be able to pick it up, not a chance in the world that he’d be able to so much as dig it out from the sandy ocean floor, but Flounder demanded he try anyway. It was a good learning experience, a good chance for him to show his little friend the kind of hardships they’d be facing. They were going to war, going to fight the land-dwellers who constantly assaulted his friends and family, their plastic ropes of treachery constantly snagging them and stealing them away. There would be no place in their new life for complacency, for the comfort of simplicity. Everything was going to be difficult on land, everything was going to be hard during the war, and Guppy had to know that. They would face more challenging things than a sand-trapped pistol in the coming days.\n\n“Am I sure it’s a good idea?” Flounder said, doing his best to swim in a straight line with the massive bandolier forcing him toward the ocean floor. “Am I sure it’s a good idea to finally put a stop to the monsters that have ruthlessly killed our friends, murdered our family? Do you not remember the time you saw that deliciously shiny object floating in the distance, than swam up only to come face-to-face with one of their hooked contraptions? Do you not recall the way you screamed when it tore through your gills?”\n\nGuppy stopped fruitlessly biting at the pistol, instead softly rubbing the old, now-scarred, wound beside his gills.\n\n“Am I sure it’s a good idea?” Flounder continued. “Am I sure it’s a good idea to finally show those land-dwellers that we’re not just theirs to kill? Absolutely. I am positive it’s a good idea.”\n\n“Okay,” Guppy said, “I was just asking.” He floated back down to the pistol and resumed working at freeing it. This time, however, he attempted to headbutt the gun free, swimming back a few inches before propelling himself directly into the black, notched grip of the weapon. He bounced off of it each time, body twirling violently in the water, the gun not so much as moving in the slightest.\n\nFlounder watched Guppy for a moment, stared at him as he tossed his tiny, orange body into the slightly rusted pistol over and over again. “All right,” he said. “That’s enough. We’re going to have to leave it.”\n\n“We’re going to leave the gun?” Guppy said, smashing into its grip one more time before stopping. “But you said it would be essential in taking out their leader.”\n\n“I did,” Flounder said. Truthfully, he did feel the device would be essential. He’d heard rumors of how it worked, stories that the device could silence a land-walker in a single action; rumor was that the strange object could fire off a metal object, which the humans called “bullets.” These bullets were enough to penetrate the thick anatomy of the landers, enough to strip them of their oxygen. Still, though, he could see they would not be getting the weapon free without a significant amount of help. Considering no one else in the school seemed to think their mission was even remotely a good idea, he knew that wouldn’t happen any time. “But I don’t think so anymore.”\n\n“Why not?” Guppy said, his tail flicking back and forth slightly as he floated. \n\n“Because I believe in us,” Flounder said, bandolier still forcing him to sink toward the bottom slightly. “We might not be much, but we are a force to be reckoned with. You, you’re the damned best head-rammer in the school. Remember when you knocked Hank out with a single smash? You could do that to a land-dweller.” Flounder paused. “And me, I’m smart. I know how to negotiate, how to deceive. I could get the humans to trust us, to let us speak with their leader. Then you just finish with a headbutt and we’re free from their rule.”\n\nGuppy smiled, his tail flicking faster in place. \n\n“You ready to do this?” Flounder said, glancing toward where the sand climbed inward, the water above white-crested and shrouded in sunshine. The plan was to swim to where the sky met the water, to break the forbidden limit and wander onto the terrain of the land-dwellers. From there, they’d simply deceive their way to the leader, break into their compound, and destroy them from within. It would pretty much solve itself.\n\n“I am,” Guppy said.\n\n“Then let’s go,” Flounder said, thrusting his tail as hard as he could. The bandolier made it difficult to swim, the metal objects latched into the strap of leather doing little to assist in making him lighter. Still, he was able to swim, able to force his body toward where the sky met the water. He imagined it would be easier to move outside on the land, easier to walk about when he wasn’t weighed down by the water. \n\nBy the time Flounder reached the edge of the sea, he was absolutely exhausted. Although they’d only traveled for less than two minutes, it was incredibly difficult to swim under such weight. Regardless, he had kept just a bit more in the tank, a little burst of energy to force himself through the barrier between the land-dwellers and the sea-citizens. He glanced over at Guppy, nodded a quick salute, and propelled himself forward, his body exploding out of the water and into the world of the land. The bandolier flew off of his body the second he left the water, remaining in the depths behind him. He made the mental decision not to go back to get it, considering he had no control over his actions and was a bit preoccupied with the fact that he suddenly could not breathe.\n\nFlounder landed on the dried sand with a wet slap, his body immediately convulsing as he suffocated. He had somehow forgotten that the land-dwellers did not live in the same environment as the sea-folk, that they breathed oxygen that was not surrounded in water. He glanced back at the sea, the waves crashing down a few inches from where he lay, and desperately attempted to signal to Guppy not to jump, contorting his face in the official “don’t jump out of the water, you’re going to be unable to breathe and will die” sign. Guppy seemed not to understand, instead propelling himself out of the water and coming to a convulsing stop beside Flounder. \n", "Down in the very depths of the ocean, where few fish could survive, they gathered. Sleek forms, each donned in armor, swam in formation. They had thrived in the ocean depths, and had become stronger for it. Now, they would follow suit with the ancient legends of the land walkers, and move onto the surface. They didn't have natural legs, but they didn't need them; their armor would be their legs. They had done with science what no fish had said could be done, and now they were ready to make the same journey as the legends.\n\n\nNot that they had a choice. The king had decreed that any who weren't part of the landing party would be put to death. None would dare back down from that. So even as the pressure decreased, and their bodies bloated, they continued on. Eventually, they passed the point of no return. With their bodies expanded, their armor began crushing them. They died off in droves, corpses nothing but masses of fat and flesh, surrounded in metal coffins. Floating to the surface, none survived. The last one had a single solitary thought pass through its mind. \"How could we fail... the land walker legends said we couldn't fail...\"\n\n\"Scientists are still baffled about the mass blobfish death that occurred earlier this week. The fish were all found floating on the surface, compressed in peculiar metal containers. The current prevailing theory is that a mass garbage dump is responsible, though other's claim that the sheer amount of metal indicates otherwise. We'll be covering this even in detail later, so don't change the channel.\"\n", "\"Gill, do you read me? Come in, Sergeant Gill. Repeat. Do you read me?\"\n\nIt was no use. The fourth fin of the Atlanta invasion force had gone dark. General Lustigulp slammed his tail against the console in disgust.\n\n\"They knew we were coming,\" he told his assistant grimly. \"We've got a sea-mole.\"\n\nThe assistant, an oddly shaped, fleshy fish who always wore a strange glass dome over his ugly face, nodded.\n\n\"Should I order another wave of interrogations, sir?\" asked the assistant, whose name was Harold Notaman.\n\n\"Yes,\" said General Lustigulp with a sigh, \"I suppose that's our only choice.\"" ]	3
	[WP] The monster under the bed gets a bad rap. He's actually protecting the children from the real danger.	[ "The months after Mom left, Dad would drink at night to drown out the pain of her leaving. However, the loneliness would set in, the feelings of neglect, and the primal urges of wanting to be close to another person...driving him to consider the unthinkable.\n\nHe stumbled to the door, his heart racing, questioning if he could even do what he was considering, but the pain was too much and he wanted it gone. Reaching for the door, his mind wandering how he would keep her quiet after the deed was done.\n\nJust as he was able to push the door open, he heard a scream, similar to one she's let out every night since Mom left...\"DADDY!!!! THERE'S SOMETHING IN MY ROOM!!!\"\n\nAs he pushed open the door seeing her sitting on her bed, panting, a claw had slipped under her bed...bringing his thoughts back around to protecting his little girl.\n\nThe monster chuckled, she was safe, for one.more.night.", "As desperately as he wanted to, he couldn't leave; he was here to protect the kid.\n\n Shadows jumped off the floor and onto the walls, filling the space left by the setting sun. Soon there would be only darkness-and the things that dwelt within it.\n\n One of those things being Vort, Monster Under the Bed, 52nd regiment.\n\n Vort had been assigned this bed shortly after he had grown his claws, and had only been hiding under it for two weeks when he had his first encounter with the Kress.\n\n\n\nMy first attempt at this! ", "I lie motionless, listening to her breathing. After a while I silently lift my left arm until I can see the display on my wrist. It's been 4 days since my last visit. I have to do it tonight.\n\nWhat I do seems horrible. Monstrous even. She's a sweet kid, and I wish I could leave her be. But it's more important that she lives to see her next birthday.\n\nI had been assigned to her six weeks ago, a day after the recon team's test had flagged her. Such a happy little girl. My job is always a painful one.\n\nI check the display once more, staring past its soft glow. I already know everything it has to tell me. In another 24 hours the larva will start to wake up. If that happens there is a risk of permanent brain damage, even if I subdue it within minutes.\n\nThe only thing that can keep the parasite asleep is adrenaline. The chemical brought on by pure, unadulterated fear. I need to keep it under control until her immune system can destroy it. That will take months.\n\nI sigh quietly to myself. It's time. I disengage my cloak and get to work.", "\"Lie down on the bed.\"\n\nI followed the instructions, dutifully, without protest. The cotton sheets were rough and scratchy, the mattress thin enough that I could feel the rusted springs pressing into my back. \n\nEfren took a step forward. My stomach muscles clenched as cold spikes of pain and fear pierced my chest, but I didn't move. He'd hurt me if I moved. \n\n\"In a few minutes, two men will be in here to inspect you.\" The man I'd trusted, the kind, gentle soul who'd coaxed me away with promises of a new life, was looking at me like I was a piece of meat. There was no kindness in his eyes now. \"You will not resist. You will obey any orders given to you.\"\n\n\"We own you now. Do you understand?\" Efren ran his gaze up and down my form. \"This is your life now. The totality of your existence.\"\n\nHe reached out. \"And right now, you belong to me.\"\n\nHis hand touched my leg. \n\nI squeezed my eyes shut.\n\nAnd something wet splattered across my thigh.\n\n\"Nngh?\"\n\nMy eyes opened. Efren lurched backwards away from the bed, his face ghost-white. Trembling, he raised up his right arm, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. \n\nWhere his hand had been, there was now a stump. A bloody, mutilated stump, decorated with little, trailing pieces of flesh.\n\n\"Ahhh…. Ahhhh?\"\n\n\"Gulp.\"\n\nAnd something big, black, and very, very angry was climbing out from under the bed. ", "Timmy was laying in bed just like any other night, and just like any other night his heart rate was higher than it should have been. Timmy was off in his head again, fantasizing about the horrors of the gorilla movie that he had overseen his parents watching two weeks ago.\n\nSuch big, scary, furry and mean looking animals howling at each other. At one point during the horror flick, Timmy had popped his head over the back of the couch---his parents unaware that he was out of bed watching Congo with them---and had seen one of the terrifying gorilla monsters throw some sort of red gooey thing at a person on screen.\n\nThis was what he was thinking about as he lay awake, when suddenly, he heard a scrabbling noise under his bed. He was immediately terrified, completely silent and listening. Had a gorilla monster come and moved in under his bed? For a long while the room was quiet, and then abruptly there was more noise, and more noise! Something was banging around down there. Timmy was too scared to utter a sound.\n\nThe family cat, having caught and eaten the beady, black, quarter-sized spider with a red hourglass on its underside, came clambering out from under the bed, content with himself for having realized his predatory instincts. He stalked out of Timmy's room as Timmy watched, greatly relieved that it had been Sampson the cat and not a gorilla monster.", "\"Goodnight sport!\" My father spoke as he closed the door. With a small gap between the door and the frame, he whispered in a sinister tone. \"Be sure to stay tucked in your bed, otherwise you'll be pulled under your bed by the monster.\"\n\n\nI let out a small squeak, as the door closed completely. The clicking of the door, ringing out in the silence. I looked around at my surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary. I looked at my toys sprawled on the floor near my closet. The night light nearby, causing the little figurines to cast eerie shadows. They seemed to dance in front if me, as my mind wandered. Sometimes I wish I didn't daydream so often. Not being able to stand looking at the dark corners and shadows, I pull my covers over my head, with the hopes of falling asleep.\n\n\nI wear myself out by playing the different scenarios of things going wrong in my head. I close my eyes and slowly fall into a slumber. I thought I heard my closet door creaking, but it was too faint for me to verify it as such. With the last ounce of my wakefulness, I toss and turn my body towards the wall. Soon I am plagued by horrible nightmares, inflicted upon me like some kind of disease.\n\n\nI awaken abruptly by a slight tug of my sheets. The words of my father flooded my mind, creating a suffocating atmosphere. I tear the sheet off my head and look around frantically. Whether a play of my imagination or not, I thought I saw my closet close. I feel the tug again, my sheet being pulled under my bed. Frantically I sit up and throw the sheets off. Within a few seconds, I see the sheet pulled under the bed. I wanted to yell for my father, but the fear was paralyzing, leaving the words caught in my throat. I go as close to the wall as I can, and hunch up into a ball.\n\nI start hyperventilating, and all of my efforts to calm down failed. I start to feel lightheaded and fall to my side, my feet splaying before me. In my final moments of consciousness, I see a big furry hand, raise up before my bed. I see my closest slowly start to open again, and everything faded to black.\n\nI awake in the middle of the night again, drenched in sweat. I find the sheets covering me again. I remember the hand and look at the side of my bed. Nothing. Just empty space. I must've been dreaming again. I double check my room. Content with finding no shadows or furry hands, I lie back down.\n\n\"Wait...no shadow's?\" I spoke aloud. A cold pang filled my stomach, as I realize that my figurines were against the wall. As if the closet door was swung open all the way. I started to breathe slowly, as to not black out again.\n\nI feigned sleeping, and this time, I'm sure I hear the creaking of the closet door. I slowly peeked over at the closet as it slowly opened. A black clawed hand placed over the door's edge, slowly pushing the door opened. I felt the tug of my blanket, as though whatever was under my bed was trying to wake me. Frozen, I didn't respond and kept watching.\n\nThe tugging became more frequent and more insistent. Yet I couldn't move. I didn't know which to pay attention to, the door or the tugging. My eyes were focused in the door, but my body was focused in the tugs that were getting more frantic. The door was halfway open as a dark figure stepped out. It was horrible to look upon. It's large, slender frame stepping through. I couldn't see it's face. It was like the light from the night light was too afraid to touch it. When it breathed, it sounded hoarse, like the very air was trying to escape it. The thing, stepped out of the closet completely and closed the door behind it. The form stayed facing me the entire time.\n\nAt this point, my sheets flew under the bed once again, pulling me along with it. I yelped in pain and surprise as I hit the floor. I watched as the horrible black shape started to come closer, looming over me. It's claws clicking together in anticipation, piercing the silence. I felt sick, being stuck in between the thing in front of me and the 'monster under my bed.' I didn't know which one would be more horrible to be killed by.\n\nAs I was thinking of what to do, the furry hand came out from under the bed. It's forearm as thick as my body. Followed by an even bigger beast. I was both frightened and amazed at the thing before. The beast's face had rows upon rows of teeth. It's eyes growling like yellow orbs. It could easily crush me with a flick of its wrist. In that instance, it moved its hand towards me. Thinking it would crush me, I tried to move, but it was more agile than it looked. It picked me up with the tenderness of a parent. Stroking my hair as it placed me onto the bed. Turning around, it clenched it's hands into a fist and faced the black figure. The black figure, let out a cackle, as if amused by the beast's boldness. The dark creature sliced at the air, creating a whistle, as if to show how sharp they are. The creature then proceeded to lunge at the monster standing between me and it." ]	6
	[WP] The United States government is preparing to drop a nuclear bomb on the city of San Francisco.	[ "\"The aDAMS have appeared in San Francisco, Mrs. President,\" the secretary informed the President. The President herself rubbed her eyes, her nightcap falling off of her graying hair and onto the pillow. Her head ached for some reason, and she was having trouble focusing on the secretary. She replied, \"What time is it?\"\n\n\"Three o'clock in the morning, ma'am. We need you in the Situation Room.\"\n\nHer arms clutched around the shoulders of some Secret Service agents as she slipped into some slippers - high heels be damned, she was too old to deal with that painful nonsense. The faithful secretary fetched a simple winter coat from the closet. Before leaving the room, the President took a glance at her snoozing fat husband, and decided it was probably best not to wake him. He might die from a heart attack.\n\nAs she was helped into the Presidential State Car, the President mused about the two Presidents who have been in her situation: Stewart in 2032, the first woman President, and Ackerman in 2104. Stewart had rather good ratings before the crisis, but of course when things went to hell it was surprising her head wasn't found on a platter. It wasn't her fault, but the people are fickle. Ackerman didn't do anything impressive in his term, and there wasn't much he could do during the 9th aDAM Encounter, but of course the people still blamed him. The aDAMs obliterating New York City just might be a reason. (or rather, Old York City. Mrs. President never got used to change.) She should call Mr. Ackerman, actually, after the situation is over. It would be nice chatting over a cup of wine how the President of the United States is powerless before the aDAMs.\n\n\"Secretary General,\" the President nodded as she saw the intimidating colossus, upon exiting the Presidential State Car and entering the room. Almost seven foot tall, the Mongolian had trouble fitting inside the Situation Room. When he sat in a hovering chair, the leader of the United Nations sank it to the floor. There were both members of the U.S. Cabinet and the U.N. General Assembly present. The President's eyes drifted towards some of the darkly-clad figures near the entrance way, people who even made her Secret Service nervous. There were four of them, and they all had two golden pins on their caps.\n\n\"Eight confirmed aDAM kills,\" she silently noted.\n\n\"Mrs. President. Have you been debriefed about the situation yet?\"\n\n\"I'm afraid not, but that's the purpose of the Situation Room, am I wrong?\"\n\nHer dry sarcasm was a huge factor in her elections, but it won her no favors in the Situation Room.\n\n\"In oh-two-hundred-fifty-five several aDAMs materialized in San Francisco Bay,\" the Secretary General said, ignoring her comment. \"Three Sphere One aDAMs and two Sphere Two aDAMs. We haven't confirmed all of their classes, but we do have two-confirmed Seraphim class.\"\n\nAlmost all of those words were rather meaningless to the President, and she silently cursed the U.N. for not declassifying any of the information about the beasts. However, the number five made her curl her toes and clench her fists. Five whole aDAMs. It took her a while to speak through her gritted teeth.\n\n\"So? Why are you telling me this? I must be the first one. As far as everybody knows the United Nations rushes in with your Cains, slay the beasts, and then a day later, the world is saved yet again, never mind the ruined city. Why do you feel the need to inform me?\"\n\n\"Because this is a fight that requires nuclear weaponry,\" the Secretary General said flatly.\n\nThe Secretary of Defense pounded his fists onto a table. \"Nonsense. You and I both know the aDAMs can't be killed by nuclear weapons.\" He pronounced nuclear oddly, like some Texan President before the aDAM Crisis. \"Otherwise, the United Nations would have a stockpile somewhere, and from there on it would be easy world domination for you. Who says you don't have some stored anyways? As far as I could tell some of your Cains broke into Iran's supply a couple decades back and-\"\n\n\"If we wanted to conquer the world, then we would have done it years ago,\" the Secretary General said. His glare made the Secretary of Defense sit down in his seat like a child. \"We are only concerned about the aDAMs. Since this Encounter falls within United States territory, we want your cooperation.\"\n\n\"He brings a valid point,\" the President said. Even though she was a dwarf compared to the Secretary General, she wasn't intimidated. \"Why do you need nuclear weaponry?\"\n\n\"Because a majority of our Cains are in Old Hawaii. Since they are in the heartland of aDAM territory, we don't have the resources to quickly extract them. We only have students-in-training, and these four here at our disposal. As I'm sure you know, this is an insignificant number.\"\n\n\"So why do you need the nukes?\"\n\n\"To immobilize the aDAMs. It will not kill them, but it's sufficient to stop them in place for a few minutes. We requisition at least 100 50-megaton devices.\"\n\n\"Fifty megatons? How...how long will that stop them?\"\n\n\"About two hundred minutes, or three hours and twenty minutes. That should be sufficient to bring our troops in.\"\n\n\"B-but...the fallout...the civilian casualties...\"\n\n\"Are rising each minute we waste here, Mrs. President. I must ask, have you ever been in a Gravity Field set by the aDAMs? It's a much more painless death to die instantly from nuclear bombs.\"\n\nAnd with that she knew it was helpless. \"Bring me the suitcase.\"\n\n\"We appreciate your cooperation, Mrs. President. We apologize that you're put into this situation.\"\n\n\"Are you really now?\"\n\n\"No. No, I suppose not. I suppose the United Nations have achieved global domination then, if the world leaders bow down to our every whim.\"", "War is hell. Never had that been more apparent than now. The satellite imagery panned past the half-sunken wreckage of the Golden Gate bridge and fixated on the fleet in the harbor. So many ships, all arrayed to launch. The real interest was the docks. The enemy was offloading something big. \n\nA seismic inducer they called it. When the Army discovered the dig site farther up the Napa valley the recent drop in Western front activity and general withdrawal suddenly made sense. They were going to shake the entire San Andreas fault line and destabilize the Yellowstone Caldera. The enemy didn't mind damaging their own holdings if it meant breaching the Rockies defense line. \n\nThe US had to act quickly but had a terrible decision to make. A conventional attack would take too long and might fail or miss the objective. Right now they knew where the Inducer was, even if it was in the heart of enemy territory. 4 Million US citizens were estimated to remain in the occupied SF Bay area. The President's eyes closed and turned the key. ", "Everyone was running amok in the situation room at the White House. The developing news of Russia attacking San Francisco has taken the United States by surprise. \n\n\"General\", the President said while rising from his chair at the head of the table, \"what forces do we have in place to hold the advancement back?\"\n\n\"We have roughly five hundred in place surrounding the city sir, but their reported numbers will over run them soon.\"\n\nThe president paused, for this is the first time since our nation's foundation that enemy troops have occupied land in the United States. He glanced down at his hands, trembling in fear for what might have to pass. The president made his way across the room to a larger screen mounted on the wall. Screen 1: San Francisco It was a live feed from the city square. He starred in dismay as troops began to gun down civilians as they attempted to flee for their lives. Peering away from the video, the President could not swallow this mayhem.\n\n\"How many people are trapped in the city\", he demanded to know while slamming his hands on the desk.\n\nThe general did not make eye contact, \"I am not sure Mr. President. The invasion happened so swiftly we were not able to notify the population in time.\"\n\nThere was a silence. Everyone was trained to act based off the greater good, but how could you kill that many people and still consider this good? He made his way back to his chair when an assistant brought him a briefcase. \n\n\"I prayed that I would never have to turn to this outcome\", the President said in a low tone placing his hand over the briefcase now laying on the desk. \n\n\"They are setting up bases for a nuclear launch field when they capture the city. We have to take all actions to ensure this is not completed.\"\n\nThe President looked up at the members still moving around the room, \"please everyone may I have your attention.\" He cleared his throat, \"I need only essential members in this room, the rest of you leave now.\"\n\nAfter the room was cleared, the President and two other Generals were left. \n\n\"Mr. President\", said the other General, \"I do have an update that I just received.\"\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\nThe General paused, \"I have eyes on the ground saying they are not Russian troops.\" He continued, \"they are apparently hired militants and do not represent Russia.\" \n\nA grin came across the President's face, \"I know, I hired them.\" \n\n\"I do not understand Mr President. What do you mean you hired them?\"\n\nThe President peered at the other General sitting across the table. In a swift action he pulled a gun a shot the questioning General in the chest. The President walked over to the dying General now laying on the floor and whispered, \"imagine an United States that is unified and willing to stand together after they think that Russia is attacking our homeland.\" \n\nThe President hesitated, \"a war is what this country needs.\"\n\n ", "> [user@locahost $] shutdown -h now\n\nBut the machine did not turn off.\n\n> Error 7,000,000,000: Cannot power down\n\n\"What the hell is error 7 billion?\" The engineer didn't remember ever seeing that one before. He needed to power down the server though. There was a large bug in the software. The cloud app was supposed to help you plan your day. It emailed your contacts and created a schedule that allowed you to have the easiest day possible. Your meetings would be scheduled close to one another and you might even get closer to home as the day went on. But lately, the software had started to just decline meetings and delete contacts. This bug needed to be fixed before more accounts were affected. The company was going to IPO in 72 hours dammit!\n\n> [user@localhost $] login god-user\n\n> Error -1: No god\n\n\"I don't have time for this!\" He smacked the table so hard his keyboard jumped up a bit. This doesn't even make sense. He navigated to the logs and noticed something strange. The server was talking to a range of IP addresses that weren't internal. He traced the IPs and found they were in Wyoming.\n\nThat's when the door exploded inwards. The engineer shrieked and hide under his desk. Armed men entered the room screaming \"Clear!\" until they found him. \"Found him!\"\n\nHe was placed back into his chair and an unarmed man dressed in a suit approached him. \"Mr. Rossen, what exactly were you planning on doing with access to our system?\"\n\nRossen, the engineer, looked confused. \"Your system? I am accessing my company's server. What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, we know you were using it as a middle point. But from there you logged into our system at missile defense. I don't know you got in but our engineers already have most of whatever you installed scrubbed from our systems.\"\n\nRossen was really confused now. \"I didn't access your system! I've been trying to turn mine off! Check my user logs.\"\n\n\"Oh, we will. And we will find everyone you've been working with. You types never work alone.\"\n\n\"Sir, we have a problem.\" One of the armed men walked up to the suited man. \"Wyoming is losing the battle. The CPU power they were fighting has increased tenfold. The server has infected most of the startups in San Francisco.\"\n\n\"What?!\" The suited man then turned back to the engineer. \"What's your game? If you confess now we may be able to just go with life in pris-\"\n\n\"I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING\" Rossen was pouring sweat. He didn't understand why his server seemed to be at the center of all of this.\n\n---\n\nThe president was watching a map in the situation room. It showed a concentrated network stream coming from San Francisco to Wyoming. He was losing control of his nukes.\n\n\"What are our options here?\" The president looked around the table but no one met his eye.\n\nOne scientist in the back piped up. \"We have lost most of the computing power in San Francisco but it hasn't spread much further out then that. And we can't seem to power any systems down remotely. The only thing that we can do is physically remove power. And we have lost remote access to the SF power grid....\"\n\n\"I asked for options!\" The president slammed his fist on the table. \"We are 10 minutes from World War III!\"\n\n\"Mr. President...\" the scientist continued. \"There is one thing we can do. A nuclear explosion also generated an EMP. It would affect all of San Francisco and a few outlying suburbs...\"\n\n\"You want me to nuke American citizens!\"\n\nNow, one of the generals began to speak. \"We are 6 minutes until defcon 5. We need to do something now.\"\n\n\"God help us,\" the president said reaching for the key he kept around his neck." ]	4
	[WP] You are a superhero who can't find a big break. You finally turn to renting a supervillain.	[ "I saved a kitten \nFrom a tree! \nNo one saw, \ndamn cat bit me! \n\nI saved a bar \nfrom burning down. \nEviscerated \na pervert clown. \n\nI stopped a robbery \nat several banks. \nIt's about damn time \nI got some thanks. \n\nNo one knows \nthe good I've done \nThe lives I've saved, \nMy battles one. \n\nI work in the shadows, \nBut I want some light. \nSome recognition, \nFor my work at night. \n\nI'll pay some slob \nTo fill Villain shoes. \nAn enemy \nWhose doomed to lose. \n\nThen I'll finally \nget my credit, \nOn CNN \nbut first on Reddit. \n\nThe people will love me \nand they'll all adore. \nThe heroic way I fight\nAnd score. \n\nWhen I win in battle, \nThe world will see! \nHow mighty I am \nThey'll worship me! \n\nAll will bow \nTo my super face! \nthey will serve, \nBe put in their place! \n\nSo I find A bum \nWho needs some money, \nLay out a trap, \nThat's sweeter than honey. \n\nTrick him into \nkilling his friend. \nPart of the plan, \nA means to an end. \n\nNow he's Got a bomb, \nThe snipers are set, \nHe's screaming insanely, \nA live T.V event. \n\nI push the cops \nout of my way, \nRun into the building \nTo save the day! \n\nThe idiot I hired \nScrews up the plan \nDetonates early, \nI'm hit with a blast. \n\nI've got no superpowers, \nThis isn't T.V. \nFire and shrapnel \nRip right through me. \n\nI Wake up in haze, \ncuffed to a bed. \nIn a hospital, \nWith a throbbing head. \n\nThird degree burns, \nI'm barely alive. \nAnd instead of thanks \nI get jail time. \n\nFuck!!!\n", "It wasn't that I was a bad superhero. I'd fought criminals, like Big Figure, Crag and Crowbar. But I didn't have a arch nemesis like my friends. I knew that getting an arch would propel me into superhero stardom, but I just couldn't get a break. So I turned to the internet, a phone application called Find-a-Nemesis. I met a guy around my age, 19, named Mathis. After we got to know each other, we agreed to go meet in person. \n\nI stood at the door of the apartment as it was wrenched open by a heavy set teenager wearing a pink t-shirt with a cartoon pony on the front. His face was covered in acne and his glasses were perched on his greasy nose, over a cheap black mask that hardly stretched over his face. A red cape was tied around his neck and he wore a pair of matching gloves that went up to his elbows. \n\n\"Hey are you Mathis?\" I asked, hoping that this was his fanboy brother. Not that I was picky, but I didn't think this guy could even walk a mile, let alone withstand one of my sonic screams. He scowled at me.\n\"I am Mathis.\" he annouced with a heavy lisp. \"And I assume you are Wyatt, AKA, The Screech.\" My heart fell. This guy is my arch? Damn it. \"I was expecting someone at little more- you know- capable of putting up an impressive fight.\" I said sheepishly. Mathis grinned, showing me a row of yellow stained teeth. He flexed his flabby arms and glared at me. After a minute of awkward silence, the ground began to shake. \n\"Um, is that it?\" I asked. Mathis nodded. \n\"You have felt the power of... THE QUAKE!\" I groaned.\n\"No.\" I said. \"I can find someone better for the job, thanks though.\" I turned and began walking down the street. I opened the Nemesis app and turned on the locator. 'No new nemesis's in your area' it read. Damn. I turned back to Mathis. \n\"Ok, fine. I guess your my arch. Let's make this quick.\"", "\"You want to rent me, kid? Like I'm a fucking house or something?\" The man snorted, \"You got some nerve coming over here. Who do you think you are, pipsqueak? You're just like the other scum-bag heroes looking for their big break.\"\n\nI was warned that most villains would be rather harsh. Despite this warning, this man frightened me. I swallowed the lump of fear in my throat and approached the rusted car he was sitting on. I might have been afraid, but I was not going to venture into this tetanus filled junkyard without a villain.\n\n\"Maybe rent wasn't such a good word. Think of it as a business opportunity!\" I forced a smile, \"We don't even have to do anything. Just bust some stuff up, make a scene and then disappear to where the cameras can't see us.\"\n\nThe man's deep laugh was far more sinister than his scraggly appearance let on. His blue eyes twinkled with mischief, making me question why I chose this particular villain to approach. Maybe there was a reason why this place was shunned by everyone.\n\nHe lazily crossed his long legs and propped his head up with a pale hand. I couldn't tell if his smirk was from amusement or if he was planning on doing something terrible. \n\n\"So tell me kid, do you even know who I am?\" He flashed a fanged grin, \"See, nobody comes here - and for good reason. I don't particularly like visitors. I'm willing to bet that some asshole thought it would be funny to send you to me so that you could get beaten to a pulp. Heh, or worse things could happen. You're scrawny but my hounds wouldn't care about that. They like bones.\"\n\nI did not take my eyes off the man as he gracefully stood on the roof of the rusted car. I was painfully aware of the many pairs of red eyes that appeared around the junkyard. This villain was unlike the others I had fought before. This villain was actually powerful.\n\n\"Why don't you tell me who you are, and introduce me to your pups there?\" I said, silently praying that my voice didn't crack, \"I did come all the way out here to find a villain.\"\n\n\"You found one, kid. I have many names, I don't quite do the whole super hero versus super villain thing anymore, but there was a time when everyone feared my name. You might know me as Cerberus, Garmr, or -and this is my personal favorite- Hound of Hell.\" \n\nThe fear I had been fighting this entire time gripped my heart. The Hound of Hell had been presumed dead in the last great super battle over fifty years ago. There was no way he could be alive and looking quite as young as the man in front of me. Yet, in my gut I knew he spoke true.\n\n\"The stench of your fear is nearly overpowering and yet you remain. Now that's some courage, kid.\" He flashed another fanged grin, \"Alright, enough trying to scare your pants off. You say you want a villain to fight? You want to try to make it big? Well, I can tell just by looking at you that you're pretty pathetic.\"\n\n\"Wha-\"\n\n\"Shut up and listen. See, I've been here in this junkyard for a long time. I've seen a lot of kids like you show up and every single one of them ran when they found out just who I was. Not you. I don't know if you were frozen in fear, if you're brave, or maybe you're just stupid. Whatever the case, I think I have a plan for you.\" \n\nIn an instant, The Hound of Hell was on the ground towering over me. A scraggly grey dog stretched beside him - no doubt one of the many pairs of eyes I'd seen just moments before. The man eyed me intently and shook his head.\n\n\"What are you doing, exactly?\" I was still unsure what to expect.\n\n\"You're kind of wimpy. I can help you with that. Actually, I will help you with that.\"\n\n\"Right, but what's the catch? You're a super villain, you don't just do favors.\" \n\n\"I knew there was a reason why I liked you, kid! You're right, I do require a favor. It might cost you your life, but like I said before you're probably too brave or too stupid to care.\" The Hound of Hell idly pet the dog beside him. The mischievous glint in his eye was back, \"I'll spare you the details. You'll know what I'm looking for when we fight. Now, let's get this over with. I know of a place that's just begging to be set ablaze. I hope you can fly fast -if you can fly- because I don't wait for anyone.\"\n\nOne vortex of black smoke later and he was gone. It did not take long to guess where he was. A pillar of black smoke had appeared on the horizon, and I knew exactly where he went.", "I sat in the waiting room of Super PR for more than an hour, perched on a expensive leather couch that probably cost more than my apartment and sipping acrid coffee from a tiny white cup that might have doubled as a thimble for midgets. I twiddled my thumbs. I looked out the window. I ate bland Italian cookies. I watched the CNN news feed showing the latest save Iron Man had made and sighed.\n\n\n\"Mr Janus will see you now,\" said the immaculately coiffured secretary, clutching a clipboard to her chest with one arm while beckoning to me with the other.\n\n\nI stood up, dusted my jeans of cookie crumbs and followed her as she lead me down a series of corridors and into an office where a man in a black suit was waiting for me; slicked back hair, rolex; everything about the guy oozed wealth.\n\n\n\"Mr Roberts,\" he said, standing up and offering his hand for me to shake. As I took it, \"or do you prefer I call you Beatdown?\"\n\n\n\"Either is fine with me,\" I said, shrugging.\n\n\n\"Beatdown it is,\" he said, with an award winning smile. \"Great name, really think it's something we could work with.\"\n\n\n\"Look,\" I said, \"I have to admit, I don't entirely know how this works. When I spoke to the lady on the phone, she said you had the power to help me, to put me on the map.\"\n\n\n\"Well, yes I do.\" said the man, sitting back down in his chair and reclining slightly. \"That's what we do here. We make sure that you get noticed, make sure people pay attention to you.\"\n\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\n\"Well, we get you the right interviews, the right invites to the right events. We make sure the world gets the right image of you.\"\n\n\n\"But why would anyone want to interview me? I'm small-time. I mean, I help people, sure. But it's just local crime, it's not the sort of stuff you see Spiderman or Cap dealing with. Even Hawkeye is out there doing more useful stuff than me - I'm a nobody.\"\n\n\n\"That is not the kind of attitude that is going to take you places, Beatdown.\" said Janus with a shake of his head. \"If you're going to succeed you need to believe in yourself, believe in what you're worth.\"\n\n\nI sighed.\n\n\n\"But, look,\" he said, \"you think Iron Man would have got all that press if he hadn't had AIM to deal with? You think anyone would be talking about Captain America if not for the Red Skull? No. They wouldn't. Because every hero needs a nemesis...\"\n\n\n\"I don't have a nemesis.\"\n\n\n\"Oh, Beatdown,\" sighed Janus. \"You are more naive than I realised. Sure, in the old days a hero hardly had to stroll down the street and he'd find himself a nemesis. But it's a new world, a different ball game; a hero he's got to be more proactive, more take-charge.\"\n\n\n\"I don't get it.\"\n\n\n\"We will find you a nemesis. We will set it up so you get to duke it out with him on primetime TV; a call here, a call there and we'll make sure cameras are rolling in time to catch it. You'll put the Beatdown on him and suddenly - hey, you're the latest thing. People want to know you. Kids want to be you. An Avengers invite is but a week away...\"\n\n\n\"Why would you do this for me?\"\n\n\n\"Money,\" said Janus, \"That's how we work. You sign with us, we get a 20% commission on any rewards you receive plus exclusive rights to the exploitation of all worldwide licenses - I'm talking toy ranges, t-shirts, videogames. You get to be a hero, we make money. It's a real simple equation.\"\n\n\nI turned it over in my head. It seemed too good to be true. \"Ok, I'm in.\"\n\n\n\"Great,\" beamed Janus, \"So let me just go over this form with you; main powers are enhanced strength, bulletproof skin and you trained in like what, ten different martial arts?\"\n\n\n\"Twelve, \" I said, \"I have a talent for picking them up.\"\n\n\n\"Love it,\" said Janus, scribbling notes. \"So here's what I'm going to do - I'm going to set you up with a new villain we have on our books. He's nothing special - calls himself Thermobaric Man, small-time operator but he's got some impressive pyro stuff going on that's going to look great on camera. Times Square, 10pm - he'll show up and you'll be there to deal with him before any of the other caped crusaders get a chance to show up. Cameras are rolling and BANG - we have a new hero in town.\"\n\n\n\"And he's in on this?\" I asked, slightly incredulous.\n\n\n\"Exactly. This gets him exposure, maybe moves him up a little in the world. Next time the Sinister Six are hiring maybe they think about him...\"\n\n\n\"Ok, where do I sign?\"\n\n\n\"Right here,\" he said, sliding a piece of paper and a gold fountain pen across the desk towards me.\n\n\n\"So, 10pm tonight, Times Square?\" I asked as I scribbled my signature.\n\n\n\"Bingo,\" smiled Janus, making a gun with his finger.\n\n\n\"Great,\" I smiled, putting the pen down and backing out through the door. \"Great. I can do this. I won't let you down.\"\n\n\n**\n\n\nMr Janus picked up the phone and dialled the number on the pad in front of him. \"Alistair?\" he asked.\n\n\n\"Yeah?\" said a gravelly voice at the other end of the line. \"This Janus?\"\n\n\n\"On the button as usual,\" said Janus. \"We are set for tonight. Guy calls himself Beatdown.\"\n\n\n\"Beatdown?\"\n\n\n\"Yeah, he's some martial art guy. Hardened skin. Triple human strength. Common or garden hero.\"\n\n\n\"Definitely not fireproof?\"\n\n\n\"Oh God, no,\" said Janus, \"You are going to light him up like a candle tonight. And the cameras are going to be rolling. So you go out there and show the world there's a new villain in town. Thermobaric Man - they are going to love* you...\"" ]	4
	[WP] In a blink you are suddenly in a parallel universe but it is exactly the same and you only start to notice due to one or two small differences	[ "My arms are wrapped around Clarissa's back, her head resting against my shoulder. I nuzzle my nose into her hair and breathe in.\n\n\"Your hair smells nice. Like fruit,\" I say quietly into her bangs. \"Did you change shampoos recently?\"\n\n\"Nn-nnh,\" she hums in a negative response. She pulls her head away and looks up at me. \"I haven't even been out shopping since last week.\"\n\nSomething perplexes me about the way she looks. I unwind my arms from around her and grasp her hands. A slight smile creeps upon her face and her eyes glance down at my lips momentarily.\n\n\"Your eyes,\" I say.\n\n\"What about them?\" she asks, fluttering her eyelashes.\n\n\"They're a lighter green than I've ever seen them,\" I say.\n\nClarissa laughs. \"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?\"\n\n\"They're pretty,\" I say, looking into her bright green eyes. \"You're pretty.\"\n\nShe smiles and pulls me into a hug. The unfamiliar yet pleasant smell of fruit from her hair fills my nose once again.\n\n---\n\nOnce I'm alone I get online to find old pictures of Clarissa's eyes. Nothing shows up when I search for Clarissa's profile. I check my relationship status and see the name Clara. I click through to her profile and there she is: beautiful brown hair, soft face, full lips, and surprisingly bright green eyes. I'll have to ask her when she decided to change her profile name to Clara.\n\nI scroll through her timeline: photos of us canoeing together on the lake; photos of us snuggling in a hammock in the bright light of summer; photos of us with our hands in the air riding a roller coaster. All of them show her eyes a lighter color than I remember. I scroll down a bit further and freeze. There's a post I made on her birthday last year:\n\nHappy birthday, Clara! You're the best!\n\nWhy did I call her Clara? I thought she had just recently changed her profile name. Did it automatically update all the posts on her wall from Clarissa to Clara? It wouldn't have done that though... would it have?\n\n---\n\n\"When did you start going by Clara?\" I ask Clarissa as we sit next to each other on a park bench. A gaggle of geese are fighting each other for the scraps of bread we're throwing to them.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" she says.\n\n\"Like, when did you decide to change your name from Clarissa?\" I say.\n\n\"Umm. When I was like... six I think,\" she says as she tosses a quarter sized piece of bread at a goose. Her calf is pressed over my shin; her left foot between both of my feet.\n\n\"It's the strangest thing,\" I say, \"but I really don't remember you ever going by anything other than Clarissa.\"\n\n\"Actually I was going to say the same thing,\" she says. \"Well not exactly the same thing: I saw online last night that you changed your name to William. Why did you decide to stop going by Bill?\"\n\nI toss the last piece of bread and look into Clarissa's eyes to see if she's joking. There's no humor there, only a legitimate question.\n\n\"I've never gone by Bill,\" I say.\n\n\"You've always gone by Bill,\" she insists.\n\n---\n\nClarissa is lying across the couch with her head in my lap. I stroke her long brown hair from root to tip with my left hand. She holds my right hand with both of hers and rests it on her chest, idly drawing on my palm.\n\n\"How did we meet,\" she asks.\n\n\"You tripped over a shovel I accidentally left on the sidewalk when I was working at that landscaping job,\" I say.\n\n\"It was a rake, not a shovel,\" she says. \"But yeah that sounds right. When did we first kiss?\"\n\n\"I was dropping you off after our third date. It was raining and I walked you to your door with my umbrella. You said you had always wanted to try kissing in the rain and then took the umbrella away from me,\" I say.\n\n\"That's almost exactly what I remember, except it was my umbrella. I didn't take it away from you--I was holding it the entire time,\" she says. Clarissa sits up, my hands falling lightly to my sides. She looks at me with a puzzled expression.\n\n\"Why don't we remember the same things as each other?\" She asks.\n\n\"Who knows,\" I say. \"Maybe I'm just really bad at holding memories.\"\n\n\"Well whatever the case, we just have to make some new memories,\" she says.\n\nHer lips press against mine: soft, gentle, warm.\n\n\"This time we'll make sure you never forget.\"\n\n---\n\nMy arms are wrapped around Clara's back, her head resting against my shoulder. I nuzzle my nose into her hair and breathe in.\n\nA flowery, herbal smell greets my nose.\n\nI push away and look down into her face.\n\n\"What's going on, William?\" she asks, looking up at me, fluttering her eyelashes over her dark, hazel eyes.", "It was late at night and I grudgingly wrote away on what was my final paper of the year--International Tax Law, I wanted to gouge out my eyes from the boredom and the monotony. If I wrote bilateral tax treaty one more time I swore I wouldn't be able to take my own bullshitting anymore. \n\nI took a sip of coffee and got up to go to the washroom. I looked at my bloodshot eyes in the mirror and considered if it was time to go to sleep. I blinked long and hard but knew I'd have to finish. \n\nI'd take a second to piss though. Something was wrong though... my dong... was... long? " ]	2
A day from any perspective. A cashier, a police officer, a clothes-fetishist, etc. Any day too, a summer workday or winter holiday or whatever.	[WP] Nudity is normal while clothing is outlawed. Detail a day in this world. (NSFW-likely)	[ "\"All rise, the honorable Judge Kinu Smith presiding.\"\n\nThe middle-aged, dark haired woman motioned impatiently for the court's members to be seated. As the judge slid down into the leather chair, she visualized her usual array of vicious injuries for the judges who had presided before her - and had ordered a chair that was covered in vinyl in a cramped, overheated courtroom. She could already feel her skin starting to adhere to the fake leather - something that the other judges hadn't had to worry about, since they hadn't had to deal with the ridiculous rulings growing from from 'truth in advertising' laws. She'd never completely agreed with the logic that clothing was a form of advertising, but the Supreme Court had, so here she sat, in what had quickly become known as \"fabric court\".\n\n\"First case on the docket... state v. Robbie Williams, misdemeanor adornment.\"\n\nA well-muscled man strode up to the defendant's podium. Nearly all clothing-related crimes were extremely straightforward, and thus most defendants didn't bother with attorneys. Ironically, this wasn't as much of a benefit as it had been in the past - flabby, out of shape older men that had typically dominated the legal field quickly found that judges responded better to arguments made by fit, in shape people. Unfair, for sure, but at least Westlaw access now included a gym membership. \n\n\"Not guilty, your honor!\"\n\nFlipping through the arrest report, the judge sighed. \"Mr. Williams, this is the fourth time I've seen you in my court. I know what you're going to say - \"\n\n\"Your honor, the handkerchief code is a tradition passed down for over half a century! It's a violation of my First Amendment right to freedom of speech!\"\n\n\"And that was it, word for word. Mr. Williams, I've already explained to you, the handkerchief code has too many interpretations to be reliably accurate. Wearing a yellow bandana could mean anything from wanting a threesome, to wanting a giant member, to... the obvious. The other colors are just as confusing, and that's not taking into account the local variations, added patterns...\"\n\n\"And am I reading this right? This time, you had them SEWN to your cheeks?\"\n\nMr. Williams pursed his lips and turned around, showing off a series of square stitching scars on his behind. \n\n\"Why... no, never mind, I really want to know nothing about your reasoning for that. Mr. Williams, I'll give you a choice. The law doesn't proscribe tattoos - get a written list on your rear, it's no longer subject to misinterpretation, and I'll waive the 30-day jail sentence. Or, don't. It's up to you.\"\n\nThe young man scowled at his options. \"I want a QR code instead.\"\n\n\"...because it's square and looks like a handkerchief pattern. Fine. Bailiff?\" The judge waved her hand at the bailiff, whose belt jangled as he escorted the defiant young man out of the court. The laws still allowed for certain utilitarian items of clothing, such as equipment belts for law enforcement. Kinu had noticed with bemusement that short-barrel pistols had become a much more popular choice, however - the comparisons were more favorable.\n\n\"Next up, state v. Timothy Carver. Felony concealment.\" Judge Smith blinked and glanced at the bailiff, who nodded. Someone fully clothed, in public... that was a rarity these days. From the back rows of the court, a very hairy man strode forward, hands cuffed in front of him, cupped between his legs. The judge stared down at her paperwork for a moment, trying to conceal her annoyance at having to deal with one of the Mountain Men. They'd pushed against the laws in every way imaginable since their inception, and they were easy to spot, thanks to their tendency to grow as much hair as possible to cover themselves in every legal way possible. She looked up as he approached the podium, waiting for a plea, but his chin tilted up in stubborn, silent defiance.\n\n\"...Mr. Carver, I don't see an attorney. Are you aware that you have the right to one?\" The hairy defendant remained mute. \"Do you understand English?\" Still nothing. The judge's lips pursed slightly. \"Mr. Carver, your arrest report says you spoke at great length when you were arrested. If you're incapable of speech now, I'll have to assume you're in need of a competency exam. That means a doctor will give you an examination, ask you questions...\" Not a single overgrown hair shifted. \"...and they'll have to shave you. To find any potential signs of abuse, self-harm, or disease, of course.\"\n\nThis threat caused the defiant scowl to deepen, and finally, he spat out a reply. \"Not guilty.\"\n\n\"Are you sure about that? The state's attorney has offered a plea in this case, I understand... a complete dismissal of the charges in exchange for 30 hours of defabrication desensitization therapy. That's a better deal than they offer most people in your position.\" Timothy had retreated to his previous silence, and the judge shrugged. \"Suit yourself.\" There were a few snickers from the court.\n\n\"Your honor, the defendant was arrested wearing a plain red t-shirt, blue jeans, solid black boxers, socks, and tennis shoes.\" The prosecutor held up a box filled with the noted articles of clothing, which the judge looked over. \"There's no logos, so we're not seeking any sentencing enhancements, your honor, but that shouldn't diminish the fact that Mr. Carver willfully walked down several streets fully clothed.\"\n\n\"Mr. Carver, your response?\" The feral-looking man muttered in a low voice. \"Speak up, Mr. Carver, we need to be able to hear you.\" \n\nFinally, Timothy glared straight at the judge. \"I got tired of being judged!\" Inwardly, Kinu groaned. It always came back to this with Mountain Men.\n\n\"Mr. Carver, I can assure you, nobody actually cares about the size of your genitalia. No matter how small you think it is, there are probably several people in this building alone who are half your size, and they still get along in society just fi-\" \n\n\"It's not about the SIZE, it's about the constant judging! They're always looking, always comparing you to the other guys! Even being average doesn't cut it anymore! We should be judged on the size of our minds, not our members! You couldn't possibly understand what it's like for everybody on the street to laugh at you for the size of your d-\"\n\nTimothy's tirade came to an abrupt halt as the judge stood up from her chair, the vinyl reluctantly letting go with a loud schlorp. The defendant stared, agape at what had previously been concealed underneath a desk. Judge Smith simply folded her arms under her breasts, staring back without concern. \"I think you're going to find the court most unsympathetic to that line of reasoning, Mr. Carver. Perhaps you'd like to reconsider the state's plea deal... you would be surprised how little you care about other people's reactions when you're comfortable with your own body.\"\n\nAfter a long moment, the hairy, matted defendant nodded. \"I, uh... I'll take the deal, s- ma'am.\"\n\n\"Wise choice.\" Kinu sat down as the bailiff started to escort the Mountain Man towards the clerk's office. \"Who's next?\"\n\n\"State v. Ellie Fitzhugh, flag-wearing in the first degree.\"\n\nThe judge sighed as the next defendant started to march up. It was going to be a long day.", "7am. Wake up. Don't get dressed. Head down to the beach. 7:30am. Lay out towl. Begin to tan veener. 8:15am. Headphones knocked off by Tusken Raider cops. 8:20am. Realize where I am. Only clothed person in beach in the area. 8:50am. Thrown in jail for decent exposure. 10:30am released on $500 bail by naked prostitute sister. 11:15am to 1:00pm. Training montage in which naked sister shows me how to be naked and stuff. 2:00pm. Go back to same clothed beach. Arrested again, this time for \"fucking the police\". 6:00pm. Go to court naked. Judge, jury, court room all naked. 8:00pm. Sentenced to lifetime of being clothed on the streets. Can't be naked. 8:10pm. Make fun of everyone's gross bodies. Stare at huge tits. 9:00pm to rest of my life. Be clothed and enjoy the rest of my life clothed outside of closed doors.", "Dear Diary \nWork - so glad to be out of that place. It feels so oppressive. Serving whiny brats and their parents at Chotchkie's, getting miserable tips, and my boss ragging on me for wearing too much flair on my server apron. He doesn't like the suspenders I added for flair - too edgy. Apparently there have been 'complaints' from some of the moms that my breasts are partially covered. No complaints from their husbands though. \n\nStep inside, lock the door, draw the shades, and slip into my slippers. Oh god I love my slippers - they're fuzzy. They hug my feet, they feel so sinfully soft and comforting. I raise the right foot behind my left leg and rub the back of my calf. This is heaven. I'm probably so going to hell. \n\nStop by the kitchen to grab a quick snack - I think the yogurts safe. Sniff test passes. Then, downstairs to my comfort, my haven. \n\nI head to the storage room, shift a box or two, find the loose panel, and slide it open. Click the overhead light. In the glow of the bare 60 watt bulb, it's beautiful. Hanger after hanger after hanger of skirts and blouses. And pants. Oh god, I love wearing pants. The feel of the cloth around my legs, especially when freshly shaved, is something I wish I could share with someone special. But no one would understand. But, before the shirts, before the pants, are the best of all. \n\nI pull open a drawer. Socks. I pull another drawer. I choose the polka dot panties - tonight I want to feel pretty. Final drawer now, and the matching bra. Oh yes, a good foundation garment is a good foundation for everything, I read that some heretic once said. Truth should not be a sin. Truth should not be a crime. \n\nDid I remember to draw the shades upstairs? \n ", "\n\nTonight on Channel 11 News: Protests by Industrial Workers of America! \n\nSuzy ann Perkins sits at the news desk, flopping all over the screen. She describes the ongoing riots and protesting by the Coverist labor union for worksite under- and overgarments. The picture in picture shows footage from a recent rally. \n\nA burly, hairy man with pale skin stands at the podium. He has a full grey mustache/beard combo and a birthmark shaped like Uruguay (or is it Paraguay?) right above his navel. He wears the red bandana of the union and a newsboy cap: proudly displaying his defiance of the law. He gestures to a few standing workers, male and female alike, standing in a row on the stage beside him. \n\n\"We cannot let our fellow workers to be subject to this... this government enforced genital mutilation!\" Each standing figure lacks something. A lost breast, an empty space between thighs. In the open area is the telltale jagged scars of machine accidents.\n\n\" You wouldn't dangle your keys above a hydraulic shear, so why should we be allowed... no...coerced to work with something as important as our balls so close to such powerful equipment\" He gesticulates as the audience explodes in exclamations of outrage and support. \n\n\" We must follow the example of our soviet brothers and demand our right to cotton! Or else, we will stop production across the country, and hit those naked fatcats in the pocketbook where it hurts them most!\" \n\nAt this point the cops bust in and a small, darkly dressed man slinks out of the venue. As he slips into a car, shadowed by his concealed-(zaptal)-carrying bodyguards, John Varvatos sighs to himself. The revolution will be set back by this interference, but it will be an easy hole to stitch. The day of reckoning was nigh indeed.\n\n" ]	4
	[WP]You hold a dying knight in your arms. As he dies, something about him leads you to think he is not as he seems.	[ "The sounds of battle had faded, replaced with an eerie silence as men, most of them wounded, sluggishly moved across the corpse ridden battlefield, attempting to take in the enormity of what had just happened. Two of the greatest armies on earth had come to fight upon this field and, of the thousands that marched to war that day, only hundreds now stood. Many of the noble warriors who led us into the fight, whom we adored, lay among the dead. \n\nOne of them, whom I now cradled in my arms, was the Black Baron, a name feared by the enemy and respected by all within our realm. All of the knights aspired to be him, and all of the maidens aspired to have him. But not much was known about the knight himself; he was stoic, and spent most of his time alone, withdrawn from others. So far as I know, no one had ever seen him without his helmet. \n\nWith a slowness revealing how weak he had become, he reached out for my arm. A voice, fading, called out to me. I leaned in to make out his words, but try as I might, I could not discern everything he said – it simply sounded as if he was saying “hide my body.” He struggled to say something else, but his speech began to slur. His head fell back and limpness overtook his body – he was gone. \n\nTears welled up in my eyes as I brought my head down to rest upon his breast plate. I began to rock my head back and forth, willing to hide the tears, when I noticed that, through a tear in the mail between his breastplate and underarm, a silky fabric, the color of gold, was showing through the puncture. It was like nothing I had ever seen on a man of the sword before – it looked like the fabric of royalty; like the silks worn by the maidens of the court. \n\nCuriosity overtook me, and I sat up. My hands probed the armor until I found the clasps to release it. Perhaps, looking at what lay beneath, I could come to learn more about the man who had worn it. Maybe I could understand why he asked that his body be hidden, if that was indeed what he had asked of me. With bated breath I removed the plate and what lay beneath will forever haunt my mind. \n\nA woman’s blouse. It was bright pink with golden trim. Several hearts had been stitched delicately onto the fabric. \n\nI was shocked. I began to undress the Baron further. He wore a maiden’s leggings, her long white gloves, a skirt modified to fit beneath the crotch plate, and though I did not wish to disrespect his privacy, I could see the outlines of women’s undergarments beneath his clothing. All of it appeared to be altered to fit upon his incredibly robust, masculine frame. \n\nMy mouth hung wide open. I sat up and looked around. Not too far in the distance I could see my friend, Wilhelm, reaching down to inspect the bodies of the fallen. He was one of the most trustworthy men I know. I called out to him, asking him to come to me. He nodded and rushed towards me. As he approached, I shouted out to him; “Help me move his body! We need to hide it before the enemy finds it!” He would understand when he saw it for himself.\n\nI would honor the Baron’s wish, and Wilhelm and I would never tell another living soul about what we had seen. The Black Baron fell into history with the legacy that he deserved, and continues to be the man many young knights aspire to be when they take up the sword. His reputation remains untarnished, as it should. \n\nBut me? Well, I do not think any differently of the Baron. Neither does Wilhelm. What a man does in his private life is just that - private. No one has any right to judge another for that which brings them happieness. \n\nBut, let’s just say that, no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be able to explain to my wife why I cannot make love to her when she wears that pink robe of hers, the one with the tiny heart sown upon the breast. \n", "A regular knight in shining armor - that was Murph.\n\nDamn bastard knew that the triads were holdin', he knew that they were gonna blow him away. Did that stop that bastard? Never. Murph always kept his head above the bickering at the station, never sayin' more than he had to to the people he had to. The man let his record show. Highest arrest count, highest conviction rate. On top of all that, his wife was bangin' and had to of come from money based on the home they got together. That man had it all, but I was never jealous, me and Murph had a great frendship. We went from partners to brothers for life.\n\n\nWhen we entered the warehouse things were quiet. Why we went alone was all Murph's idea, somethin' about keeping it quiet in case there was a mole - I figured it was mostly Murph wanting the glory for himself, what with his knightly ego. We didn't make it ten steps in before the bullets started flyin'. We did alright for ourselves, but in the end one of 'em got me in my blind spot - but not Murph's. The heroic bastard had to grab me and pull me aside, takin' the bullet that was meant for me. I got the bastard that got him, and all the other rats seemed to have scurried out. \n\n\nI held Murph close, tryin' to keep the bleeding down. He wasn't sayin' much, but neither was I. He reached into his pocket to hand me something - some folded papers. After I took 'em from Murph he went still - our valiant knight's story came to an end. I glanced at the papers before decidin' what to do next. They were bank records, Murph's bank records. Someone had been depositing large amounts of money into his bank monthly, and it sure wasn't from the police department. I sighed and pulled up a cigarette, deciding what I wanted to do next.", "I could barely lift the man as I pulled him upright against the tree, his wet armour slipping in my hands. He had lifted his hand towards me before slumping down into the mud but I could see that he was gone now. I brushed away his grey hair and opened his eyelids only to see death staring back at me. \n\nStepping back I noticed the armour shimmer - trimmed with gold and more form fitting than any suit I had seen. I had heard stories of Elven forged armour from across the sea, far outside the the empire, but I had never seen it.\n\nI would never strip a dead man of his possessions, or so I thought. I was filled with the overwhelming feeling that he wanted me to take it. Before I knew it my knees were in the mud and I was unbuckling the man. As I pulled off his gauntlets a long gold chain slid to the ground. \n\nThe gold medallion shown bright against the wet mud. I stared at the two axes crossed in gold and needed to wipe the rain from my eyes three times before I believed it. The symbol of the Stendon Family stared back at me. It had been banned over a century ago when the last kings fell and the empire rose. Sure, I had seen drawings of the Royal Family symbol but never a gold medallion! Holding this would mean treason, holding this would mean death.\n\nEach piece of the armour fit like a glove as I strapped it on, which was surprising considering the man looked a foot taller than me. It felt light and barely restricted my movement - maybe I could actually keep it. If I traveled during the night and in the rain as I had been I would avoid the sun which would be unbearable under all this steel.\n\nAs I lifted the gold chain over my head and tucked it under the breastpiece I felt strong. I immediately reached for the sword I left beside the old man and was struck with terror. The sword sat beside the tree - the man was no where to be seen. The blade felt light in my hand as I looked back and forth. There was no sign that the man had ever been leaning there - no footprints in the mud leading from his resting place. \n\nI heard the sound of horses rushing down the road and realized I may have a more pressing problem at hand.\n\n---\n[Part 2] (https://www.reddit.com/r/Franz_Canis/comments/33ry54/the_symbol_of_stendon/cqnvdvm)" ]	3
Just to be clear, the first and last sentence are not the same. The first sentence of story 1 is the same as the first in story 2 and the last sentence of story 1 is the same as the last in story 2. It can be any subject and any two genres (comedy, tragedy, horror, sci-fi,...etc.) Edit: I realized after posting that this probably fits Constrained Writing more closely than it does a Writing Prompt. Could a mod please fix it?	[WP] Write two short stories that share the same first sentence and share the same last sentence but are two different genres and totally unrelated.	[ "She'd been gone for years.\nNobody noticed, not her family, not her friends. \nNobody noticed until the day she put her gun to her head and pulled the trigger. Then they noticed, said how she'd been gone for years. \nEver since Hayley was found dead in that bathroom.\n\n\n...\n\n\nShe'd been gone for years. \nI mean sure, that was kind of in her job description. Mine too. To just disappear for a while, pop up every now and again, fuck shit up, calm shit down, cover shit up, whatever it is that spies do, and then disappear again. This job had been longer than normal though. Years instead of months. It was a hard one, and everything was a little more difficult after what happened with Hayley, every job took a little bit longer, we had to be careful not to make any mistakes, especially her.\nEvery since Hayley was found dead in that bathroom.", "I am so lost. People keep telling me about what I like and who I am. Remember this? This is where we went at grad reunion. Remember me? I'm Fred, your friend. Thats Tom he's your teacher. And my mother as well, just a complete stranger. Its overwhelming you know? All these names and faces of people who know me, who I'm supposed to know. But I can't remember. Sorry, I just can't.\n\nI am so lost. I should have studied for the exam. It was stupid to do this. I should have waited before going to college. This isn't even something I like. What am I supposed to do though? I have no interests, no special talents. Mom, I know you wanted me to become a lawyer but its to hard. Sorry, I just can't.", "\"Yeah, he was wearing a wedding ring, but do you really think that stopped me?”\n\nA salvo of shrill cackles erupted from the table I was serving as some wrinkly old blonde recounted her latest \"sexcapades\"- cringe -and proved, to many raucous cheers and clinking of Long Island Iced Teas, that blondes do have more fun. I collected my tips (at least the broads were generous) and stalked back to the bar for the next set of drinks. \nMy coworker, the surliest bartender known to mankind, nodded to a young couple that looked no older than teens, though they both bore the wrist stamp of IDs checked and approved. \n\"Roofies aleeeeeert.\" I scoffed, but looked anyways. \nI couldn't believe my eyes. True to his (usually false) accusation, a small white tablet lay disintegrating in one of the strange cosmo-mojito-fruity-things that the kids had ordered. What the hell, man? What was protocol for seeing something like this go down? Call the cops? Throw him out? \n\"What the hell, man?\" I threw my arms up, my heart starting to race. This is serious. \"What are we going to do?\"\n\"I...\" the mixologist began with a long sigh, \"ain't doin' a thing, Paul. Not my wheelhouse. I told Graves we need a bouncer or a gun under the counter or-\" I ignored him and strode up to the offending frat-looking roofie-er. 'You got this,' I whispered to myself, 'just get him to leave.' \n\"Hey, man!\" I was maybe five feet from him, at the most, and he didn't seem to notice. \"You, in the, uh,\" I glanced at the logo on the back of his letterman, \"CS Dominguez varsity jacket, man, what's up?\" \nI hadn't noticed quite how much of that man- no, he has to be a boy, he's got babyface so bad -was solid muscle; he was kind of threatening, and kind of a good four inches taller than me. He turned, hale arms straining his jacket's leather stitching. \n\"Good evening, sir.\" He nodded politely, and, to my surprise, lifted the glass with the now-dissolved tablet to his lips and drank deeply. \n\"I-I-I...\" I was expecting- what the hell? I didn't plan for this. What the hell? ‘Sir’? \"I was just curious-\" Okay, hold on, you're going to say something- \"what you were taking, sir, 'cause it looked-\" nononono, back away, just back the hell- \"totally trippin'.\" Fuck. What the fuck did I even just say? Trippin'?! \n\"Oh.\" He smiled grimly, a glimmer I couldn't place in his tired eyes, and his tongue snaked over his cracked lips. \"Codeine.\" \nAfter a few minutes of conversation, I learned what exactly codeine was, why he was taking it- racquetball wound to the shoulder -and how old he and his lovely, devoted FIANCEE were, I confessed. \n\"Hokay, so, James,” James Hitchcock, engineer for Northrop-Grumman, “I thought that pill was roofies and you were gonna rape this lovely lady here.\" \nA few moments passed in which I wished I were teleported away, dead, or, funny enough, on codeine. Comprehension dawned on the young faces before me, and I was relieved to hear both of my new acquaintances burst into uncontrollable peals of laughter. I apologized for assuming, they apologized for seeming sketchy as hell, and, hey, turns out we go to the same doctor, went to the same high school, and I used to wait at the country club they visit with their families on the weekends. \nSo, hey, I've got two new friends, and a great story to remember when I’m thinking about my first job. \n- - - - - - - - \n \"Yeah, he was wearing a wedding ring, but do you really think that stopped me?” A mirthless laugh answered my rhetoric from the other end of the line. \n “Good. Married or not, kids or not, debts... they are debts, no?” I nodded, slowly, wordlessly, realizing after a few pointless bobs that my client couldn’t see me. \n “Yessir. Can’t abide by debts.” I remembered what my momma told me. Always be extra nice to the hand that feeds. \n “No, no we cannot. And you, Ibrahim- we are in your debt.” I liked those words. Leverage. Prosperity. “So, let us settle. Your price, it was excellent, and your performance, more excellent still. Pride is holding you up, young man.” Now we’re getting somewhere. \n “Thank you, Mr. Gray.” Yes yes yes, where’s the money, where’s the door out of this meeting room, where do I throw away the burner phone your Slav brute gave me? \n “We could, however, give you more, Ibrahim, brother.” Oh. \n “Yes, Mr. Gray?” I could hear the fat man breathing a little harder trying to think of how to ask me for another bit of my expertise. I could hear him shifting his cigar between his lips. Probably Turkish. \n “Your target’s wife, she is probably upset, and…” No shit she’s upset, Mr. Gray. “We have heard, from the- what do you say? ah, yes -from the grapevines, yes, that she and he brother, they are wanting to kill me and my associates.” Oh. \n “That’s problematic, sir.” No shit, Ibrahim, that’s problematic as hell. \n “Yes, yes, problematic is a good word. Kill them both, triple pay. Three bodies, three times the paycheck.” Well, that’s a tidy sum. \n “Sounds good, Mr. Gray.” \n “You had one paycheck, with one body, but multiply bodies by three-” A smoky laugh boomed through the phone, “and you may multiple paycheck by three!” \n I forced a laugh back, with another set of thanks, and another, until Mr. Gray hung up. \n Unsure of what to do with the phone I’d been given, I handed it back to the guard that had escorted me, blindfolded, into the conference room. \n “I, uh,” I looked at the big guy, who just held up a hand to silence me and pointed to a door half-hidden by some fake-ass ficus. “Thanks.” He nodded. \n After about half an hour of following the same set of directions I’d been given a week prior by my employers, I was back at the residence of the poor nameless bastard I’d shot, and, also per instructions, left in his bathtub with Cyrillic written in red sharpie on his face. Russians don’t often make statements, but when they do, they’re bold. \n The woman in question was pacing in front of her lovely home, and the man I assumed to be her brother held a neat little Beretta in one hand and a gold iPhone in the other. I laughed like an ass imagining him, with his Russian accent, telling me, “Gold is best!” \n Once I got my giggles under control, I, in my lovely convertible import, pulled out my HK handgun and shot both of them. I heard screams from inside the house, and, slightly panicked that I may have left witnesses, hastened out of my seat and towards the door. \n I took a deep breath, and, with a grunt, threw open the bloodstained mahogany. Two beautiful African grey parrots screamed at me, before laughing intensely in childish tones at their cruel joke. They sat in ornate ivory cages flanking the doorway, like bizarre, harmless sentinels. \n “You sons of bitches! I thought I was going to have to kill you!” I clicked the safety on my gun and shoved it into my belt. The bastards laughed harder, before asking me my name and why I was at the Azarov estate today. With a gasp, I suddenly realized that I had just orphaned these two jesting doorkeepers. \n I did the math: triple pay means I can buy a lot of bird food. \n So, hey, I’ve got two new friends, and a great story to remember when I’m thinking about my first job. \n", "I was running.\n\nHow long had I been running? A few minutes? A few hours? My whole life? It doesn't matter at this point. All that matters is what I'm running from. Monsters, they say they want to help me. Long slithering tentacles tipped with claws that squirt colored liquid. Torture chambers with chains and shackles and straps to keep me from running. If that's the kind of help they offer then I think I'll do better on my own. \n\nI can hear them getting closer now though. Revving engines and siren songs getting louder behind me. It won't be long before I'm put in the chains again to keep me from running. Won't be long until they're trying to convince me that they're helping. They'll try to give me the poison pills. \n\nIt's too late, they see me. They're yelling for me to stop. \n\nI sit down and accept defeat.\n\n...\n\nI was running.\n\nI had been training for this marathon for months. It was far from my first, but I planned on winning this one. I had to win this one. Running is family tradition, and everyone has their point of pride they've earned by running. My mother is an excellent speed runner, she holds the state record for the 400m dash. My father is a superb endurance runner, he's finished an ultra marathon before. But none of us have came in first in a marathon. Until today. \n\nI didn't immediately pull to the front of the crowd. Usually those idiots end up burning out before mile seven. The candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long and all that. I gave it a little bit, then on the first downhill slope I all but sprinted down. It was a fair bit risky, with a good chance I'd fall on my face, but it worked. I was almost at the front of the pack. The people who had sprinted right out of the gate were already starting to fall back as well. \n\nI blitzed past the waster stations grabbing a cup, gulping down the water, and tossing the empty paper husk behind my head in one motion. I took the lead at about mile twelve and held it for the rest of the race. I finished in two hours, thirty-three minutes and fifty-nine seconds. In first goddamn place.\n\nThat was two weeks ago. Today I received a letter in the mail telling me that steroids were found in my urine, and that because of that I would not receive the prize, my placing and time would be invalidated and I would be ineligible to participate in any nationally ranked running competitions. \n\nI hadn't used steroids, but they won't listen to me. My family will be so disappointed. My training and achievement, my blood sweat and tears are just being pissed away and there's nothing I can do. \n\nI sit down and accept defeat." ]	4
	[WP] After years of relentless battling, a hero and their arch-nemesis have finally done each other in. As they lay dying, they have one, final conversation.	[ "\"How'd you get past my sight?\" Seer coughed, wincing sharply at the pain that lanced from the deep cut on his shoulder, his blood barely noticeable against his dark leather cloths. \n\"I finally figured it out.\" the ironically brightly costumed super-villan said from his spot on the ground, his voice cracking as his shattered legs persisted in feeling no better than the moment they'd broken. \n\n\"You're omniscient\" It was a statement rather than a question, but there was still the lingering doubt.\n\n\"And I can see into the future, not far, but far enough to know you really shouldn't try to get up\"\n\nMiasma yelped in pain as his arms proved no more useful than his legs.\n\n\"You never did like listening to me.\"\n\n\"of course not\" Miasma spat out with a grimace. \"I get why you were such a know it all now.\"\n\n\"Its hard not to be\" the gothic style hero said, seeing his own life begin to slip away only a dozen seconds in the future. \"I can literally see things before they happened.\" \n\n\"Can you see if anyone's gonna get here in time?\" Miasma questioned, trying to turn his head to look at his old nemesis.\n\n\"After I go its just black, I don't know if anyone comes for you\"\n\n\"Oh\" The poison based menace said, his voice coming from his shattered jaw carrying much less conviction than only moments before, monologuing, wreathed in snakes. \"how long?\"\n\n\"maybe five seconds\"\n\n\"I never skimped on quality poison when it came to you did I?\" The dying villain croaked out as blood flooded his lungs.\n\n\"No you didn't\" Seer replied. \"Ill see you on the other side.\"\n\n\"I hope so\"", "Gray struggled to keep his eyes open, feeling the weight of his lids increasing like the curtains at the end of a show. His time was up and he knew it. \n\n\"Why?\" A weak voice asked. \n\nGray rolled his head to the left and managed to get a decent look. Less than a foot from him lay the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. The man was in a small pool of blood, as dark as his metallic costume. \n\nGray rolled his head back to the sky and closed his eyes. \n\n\"You... arrogant... bastard.\" Gray said. His voice surprised him its strength, its certainty. \"You think you're the hero? You're a hero because you stop bad guys from doing bad things? Who are you to say what's bad? Who are you to say who's right?\" \n\n\"They kidnapped women.\" Daredevil's own voice was louder than before. \"How can you say that's good?\" \n\n\"How can you say that you're good?\" Gray countered. \"I'd say you're even worse than the whole lot of 'em, Daredevil.\" \n\n\"Why's that?\" The man coughed shortly after asking the question. Gray waited for him to cease the fit. \n\n\"You love it. Admit it. I've seen you fight, I've seen you fight more than you know. I saw how you fought me, just now. You love it. They don't pretend to be good, the criminals. They don't pretend to be something they aren't. They know exactly what they are. In that respect, you're worse. You're what the scum can only aspire to be. You get cheered on for going out and looking for a reason to beat a man inches from death.\" \n\nDaredevil gave no response. \n\n\"Nothing?\" Gray turned his head again, but was unable to open his eyes. \"I waited for this conversation for eight months, and you say nothing?\" \n\nHe waited, but still nothing came. \n\nGray forced all his energy into opening his eyes. Daredevil lay motionless in the pool of blood, staring at the sky. \"Oh.\" \n\nGray turned back to the clouds and waited to join him. ", "\"I didn't think bleeding out would take this long\"\n\n\"If I could move I'd finish you off but someone decided to paralyze me this time. How's that working out for you, because let me tell you, not being able to feel anything from my neck down is amazing right now.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that wasn't my best move. I thought I had it figured out, the best way to stop you without killing you...\"\n\n\"And now we're both going to die. Moron. You couldn't just let me win once, could you?\"\n\n\"...no.\"\n\n\"Fucking asshole. It wasn't even that bad this time. It was a real estate scam for Christ's sakes. I only had the goons because they'd been with me from the start.\"\n\n\"Bones got a really good one in. I think he fractured my skull.\"\n\n\"Good. You deserve it. I don't think he's moving either. Slasher isn't either. I really don't want to have to tell his wife he's dead. Again. This is all your fault Owl.\n\nOwl? You still with me over there?\n\nOwl?\"", "\"My girlfriend warned me that this obsession would kill me.\" Luxor spat out as he held his side making a futile attempt stop the rapid blood loss. \n\nTo his side lay Xavier waiting for the poison from the tip of Luxor's blades to settle in and finally end him. After a few seconds Luxor's statement had finally seeped into his head he was a lost for words and said the first thing that came to his head \"Wait what? You have a girlfriend? I don't even have one how the hell could YOU have one\"\n\nXavier quickly regretted what he had said when he looked over at Luxor and only met a stare of complete and utter hatred. He quickly tried to apologize for the insulting statement in their final moments together. \"That's not what I meant I just...\" He was cut off by a groan from Luxor. Xavier had no clue what that meant, but stopped talking to show respect his long time enemy.\n\nIt was silent for what seemed like a lifetime and just when both had mere seconds of life left in them Luxor chuckled said his final words, the words that anyone within earshot would remember him by \"...Fuck.. You.\" \n\n\n(I enjoy writing and decided to try it out on a real audience. So here you go Reddit and thanks for reading!)", "\"You know you're going bald.\" Miaxor choked out, splattering blood on the front of his uniform.\n\nBaenor laughed weakly while drooling out a bit of his own blood. \"What?\"\n\n\"Right in the back. You have a bald spot and it's been getting bigger. I've been meaning to point it out for years.\" Miaxmor continued. He couldn't find the energy to sit up, he couldn't find the energy to move. He couldn't feel his legs.\n\n\"Yeah, well, you've been getting gayer and gayer with your costumes. Did this one have a cape?\" Baenor mused, in no better shape than his counterpart.\n\nMiaxmor laughed and coughed, everything dimming. \"Think the city will recover?\"\n\nBaenor considered it for a moment. \"Yeah, they always bounce back. Some new super hero and villain will come and take our place - there's always new blood.\"\n\nMiaxmor agreed, and took a moment to consider the past years of his life. All the while Baenor was there, opposite yet equal in his convictions.\n\n\"Baenor?\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"I'll miss you.\"\n\n\"I'll miss you too.\"" ]	5
	[WP] In a few years, the first woolly mammoth has been successfully cloned. It turns out that the early men have eradicated it for a good reason.	[ "\"What do we do now?\" said Marcus. He was eying the mammoth suspiciously.\n\"We can't just let it back into the wild; those retarded igloo pe-\"\n\n\"No racism here.\" Harry said. \n\n\"But still, how do we preserve such a monster? We don't want animal rights activists all over us like last time.\"\n\nMarcus looked towards Harry. It was clear that he had no answer. Marcus continued:\n\n\"To make this thing cost the UN BILLIONS. WHAT DO WE DO NOW?\" \n\nMarcus' tone was quickly turning aggressive.\n\nHarry hesitated. \n\n\"We shear it.\"\n\n...\n\n\"Good point. Sunburn is such a good way of taming such beasts. It would be a shame if anymore staff was trampled...\"", "At first the cities of America had thought nothing of it. Many scientists called it a 'defect', while the good people had wished they would try again - but they refused. The first woolly mammoth had been cloned, and the world was in awe; it was just like something straight out of Jurassic Park. Shortly after their resurrection an international zoo in England was constructed. The zoo's security detail was very heavy, there was no way someone could get in - or out. \n\nAnyways, the mammoths were fine for the first few years of their young life, but when they got older, they became crazed. It was impossible for anybody to feed them or interact with them. People blamed it on the zoo's staff and management, but that wasn't the case.\n\nAs the years passed by, one of the few mammoths had suddenly stood still all through the day and all through the night. Perhaps they couldn't be in captivity. This was evident due to the other mammoths following suit. They didn't eat, they didn't sleep. \n\nA national park was formed in Greenland. The world government and scientists assumed that the warmer temperatures was affecting the mammoth's brain function. The mammoths were moved eventually, and began interacting with their environment once more, and they were okay for now, but everything changed shortly after their arrival.\n\nAt night, the park officials would have to endure something so horrifying and cruel that it could not be described. Maybe the actual mammoths were like this or maybe they weren't. Nobody knew, and personally, I don't think anybody wanted to know.\n\nDuring the Greenland nights, the mammoths would scream until the sun came back up. Scientists and zoologists assumed that maybe they were easily scared, but everyone else knew that this noise seemed all too human.\n\n(Hey sorry! I'm new to Reddit and I figured I would test out my writing skills and everything, hope you enjoyed!)", "Dr. Brenner sighed as he wrote his most recent finding in his journal, knowing that when published he would become a laughing stock. All those decades he'd spent progressing human understanding of genetics and cloning would go to waste, his name would forever be associated with this one unforeseen blunder.\n\nIn the year 2019, the first woolly mammoth in thousands of years was born on Earth, under the watchful eyes of Dr. Brenner and his team. The process was fairly typical for cloning. The most complicated bits involved the creation and insemination of artificial ovum using artificial semen, both made to match the genetic code of a mammoth. The egg was then placed in the closest living relative of the mammoth, the African elephant. Several months later a mammoth was born, a healthy male which they named Trunks.\n\nThe first hurdle the team had to cross was that the mother elephant refused to bond with her hairy child. This was not entirely unexpected and the scientists were prepared to raise the child in a controlled facility. The mammoth developed quickly and its intelligence was tested relative to its more modern cousins. He showed proficiency in sorting blocks, determining colours, and even painting. Trunks learned more quickly than any elephant previously trained, the experts that were brought in were deeply impressed.\n\nUntil Trunks started to talk.\n\nSomewhere along the line the mammoth managed to pick up fragments of English. Starting to make noises resembling words at the age of 6, the science team showed trepidation. Perhaps its time with humans had caused it to try to mimic us, but surely its simple vocal chords wouldn't allow for proper speech. Within the year this skepticism was vanquished. Trunks formed basic sentences with the ability of a small human child. The discovery was downplayed, no need to raise any alarms until the true extent of the creature's intelligence could be understood.\n\nThe years went by and the mighty mammoth became fully grown, its vocal abilities increasing as time went on. At some point though, things went wrong. It was difficult to pinpoint exactly when it happened as it was a long transition, but Trunks' voice started to sound familiar. One of the trainers was the first to figure out who he sounded like. \"He sounds like Ray Romano,\" the trainer said in passing while out of the impressive earshot of the mammoth.\n\nWord of the grating timbre of the creature's voice spread. Dr. Brenner triple checked his code against the original mammoth's to ensure this was all natural. The codes matched exactly, it became apparent that the vocal chords of a woolly mammoth perfectly emulate the voice of Ray Romano. The second the media caught wind a storm of publicity occurred. Trunks was interviewed by news agencies and talk shows, and perhaps even more offensively was used by DreamWorks pictures to launch a new Ice Age reboot.\n\nDr. Brenner knew that there was no way he'd ever be taken seriously again as a scientist. No scientific journal should ever have to be published with the name of Ray Romano in it. His thoughts turned to the original era of mammoths. Had they been hunted to extinction for food, or because their voices were so irritating?" ]	3
	[WP] Friends, now deadly enemies.	[ "\"Remember when we were kids.\n\n\"Playing in that drug-ridden park. You had that old steel-framed bike from your cousin, the one with the blue paint that you said made it look like a Buick. You loved that bike.\"\n\nMatt felt the wound of nostalgia. His friend, his closest brother, remained silent.\n\n\"And then the kids on Tenby street stole it on day and you cried and cried. I couldn't even tease you, you were crying so bad. And you ran back to your parents. I got you that bike back. I broke a knuckle getting you that bike back.\"\n\nAlai had said nothing then, just like he said nothing now.\n\n\"And when we were drafted you tried not to cry, and I stuck by you. Fucking kids man, sent to war. That gunny had it in for you. But I took the rap. And you said nothing.\n\n\"Lima man. That's where I lost you.\"\n\nMatt passed the pistol between his hands, the sweat making it slippery in his palms. The barrel was still warm.\n\n\"Seventeen years we'd grown up together. Like brothers. And I'd taken every shitty punch meant for you. And you. Said. Nothing.\"\n\nHis hands shook.\n\n\"And when that RPG hit you dragged me out of that hellhole. You were a fucking pacifist dude. And then you go and... and...\"\n\nMatt looked at Alai's hands. They were clean. How could they still be clean.\n\n\"You killed every rebel in that town. And the next. You put more bodies in the ground than God and then you had to go and become one!\n\n\"I always had your back buddy. Always.\"\n\nAlai just sat there.\n\n\"The war didn't end for you. The war never ended.\"\n\nMatt stood up, letting the pistol clatter to the floor. The palace was crumbling down but Matt had already lost the only thing worth saving. The blood trickled from the hole in the back of his best friends head.", "The cuffs chafed his wrists, but this time Quint knew it was fruitless to fight. He lay back on the inch sheet of foam, listening to the water drip from the sink pipe onto the discolored concrete and the slow methodical footsteps pace up and down the hall. \"How does this happen?\"\n\n\"You made the choice, Quint.\" He bolted up to see the unsmiling face of Raul standing at the bars. In one glance, he remembered the years of opening his doors to the same, serious face at the start of many great afternoons. Bike rides, videogames, legos...\n\n...and the drug raid. Yesterday, he opened the door to see the hands of the man he once called brother brandishing a warrant and a gun. \"Raul, please don't rub salt in the wound.\" Quint said weakly before lowering himself back on the mat.\n\n\"No, I have to say something.\" Quint wriggled himself to a position where he could glower at the cop. \"Quint, I covered for you for so long, I kept what I knew in secret.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you did a really good job at that.\"\n\n\"Jesus, you have no idea! Three days ago, I took two kids to the hospital after they crashed hopped up on pills we traced back to you. They might die!\"\n\nQuint rolled over, not wanting to hear it. He never sold to kids, never. One of his clients must have and Raul really needed to lighten up. He always balked away from anything fun,going to the construction site or staying out past curfew.\n\n\"Quint, I am going to have to testify against you.\" The apology hung in the air that neither wanted to say. Eventually, Raul stomped away, probably to go eat more donuts, ruin lives or whatever cops do and Quint just stared at the bare wall, listening to the water drip.", "The cuffs chafed his wrists, but this time Quint knew it was fruitless to fight. He lay back on the inch sheet of foam, listening to the water drip from the sink pipe onto the discolored concrete and the slow methodical footsteps pace up and down the hall. \"How does this happen?\"\n\n\"You made the choice, Quint.\" He bolted up to see the unsmiling face of Raul standing at the bars. In one glance, he remembered the years of opening his doors to the same, serious face at the start of many great afternoons. Bike rides, videogames, legos...\n\n...and the drug raid. Yesterday, he opened the door to see the hands of the man he once called brother brandishing a warrant and a gun. \"Raul, please don't rub salt in the wound.\" Quint said weakly before lowering himself back on the mat.\n\n\"No, I have to say something.\" Quint wriggled himself to a position where he could glower at the cop. \"Quint, I covered for you for so long, I kept what I knew in secret.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you did a really good job at that.\"\n\n\"Jesus, you have no idea! Three days ago, I took two kids to the hospital after they crashed hopped up on pills we traced back to you. They might die!\"\n\nQuint rolled over, not wanting to hear it. He never sold to kids, never. One of his clients must have and Raul really needed to lighten up. He always balked away from anything fun,going to the construction site or staying out past curfew.\n\n\"Quint, I am going to have to testify against you.\" The apology hung in the air that neither wanted to say. Eventually, Raul stomped away, probably to go eat more donuts, ruin lives or whatever cops do and Quint just stared at the bare wall, listening to the water drip.", "He had a glued-on triangular beard on his chin. My eyes kept sliding down his face to stare at it.\n\n“It’s just so nice to see you again, Trevor!” said Anne. It was the fifth or sixth time she’d said it, always with that same intonation, the emphasis on the “nice.”\n\n“Yeah, definitely,” I said.\n\n“You have to visit us more often!”\n\nNot a chance.\n\n“I guess I’ll have to,” I said. Peter pressed his lips together.\n\nAnne sighed. “I miss college,” she said, fiddling with the cardboard sleeve on her cup of coffee. “We were three peas in a pod, you know? Three ducks on a lake. Three donuts in a dozen.”\n\n“Yeah,” I said.\n\n“What happened?” she asked wistfully, and then realized her mistake. “I mean, life gets in the way, you know?”\n\nI met her gaze. “Yes it does,” I said.\n\nShe stirred and stood. “Well, I’ve got to run to the ladies room,” she said, clutching her purse. “I’ll leave you two gentlemen to catch up.”\n\nThen she was gone.\n\nI enjoyed Peter’s alarm. He’d hardly said a word in the past fifteen minutes, opting instead to stare at his napkin, drawing complex shapes with a fingernail. Served the fucker right. I decided to have a bit of fun.\n\n“How are you guys doing, Peter? How’s the relationship?”\n\n“Oh, it’s good,” said Peter. “Real good, Trevor. Thanks for asking.”\n\n“How’s the sex?”\n\nPeter cleared his throat. “Well — it’s amazing, actually.”\n\n“Better or worse than when you guys were doing it behind my back in college?”\n\nIt was overboard and I knew it, but I couldn’t stop myself. Peter’s jaw tensed and he met my eyes.\n\n“Definitely worse,” he said. “Nothing could beat that.”\n\n“You were my best friend, you know that?”\n\n“Christ, Trevor, you sound like a whiny child.”\n\nI slammed a fist on the table. The buzz of conversation in the coffee shop slowed as the other patrons turned to look.\n\n“I should never have agreed to this little meet-up,” I said.\n\n“Clearly,” said Peter.\n\n“Fuck you.”\n\n“It’s been four years, Trevor. When are you going to get over it?”\n\n“When you stop being a smug son of a bitch and apologize.”\n\n“Why have I got to apologize? She wasn’t your property, Trevor. I didn’t have to ask your permission. She wanted to be with me more than she wanted to be with you. Why can’t you wrap your head around that?”\n\n“You made the choice to fuck her.”\n\n“You’re treating her like an object. You always did. Your relationship was doomed from the start. She’s better off with me.”\n\n“You’re a fucking secretary, Peter. I’m making two hundred grand a year. In what way is she better off with you?”\n\n“Well, she’s not trapped in a relationship with a sadistic manchild, for one.” Peter had his hands flat on the table. The tendons leading to his fingers were taut. “And I’m a law clerk, not a secretary.”\n\nI barked a laugh and stood, propelling my chair backwards. “Enjoy your pathetic little lives,” I said.\n\n“Goodbye, Trevor.”\n\nI took a few steps and paused.\n\n“One more thing,” I said, turning to look back at him. “Your beard looks fucking stupid.”\n\n“She told me about your dick, dude,” said Peter. “Three inches? Impressive. Good thing you’re rich, right? Can’t imagine the ladies are thrilled.”\n\nI took two steps, wound up, and threw a punch that caught the left side of his jaw. His head snapped back with a satisfying thwack. For an instant I felt utterly content, released from all stress and worry, as if everything that pissed me off had left my body through my fist. Then Peter surged out of his chair and drove his shoulder into my torso and it all came rushing back.\n\nHe tackled me into the adjoining table, sending cups of coffee flying and the occupants frantically stumbling out of their chairs. I slid across the table, which tipped over backwards, depositing me on the floor. I picked myself up and came at him again.\n\nThis time he was ready, his hands up. I hoped he hadn’t been keeping up on his boxing form, because I certainly hadn’t. But there was no way in hell I was backing down now.\n\nI tossed a light jab with my left, which he deflected, and sent my right fist toward his jaw. It glanced off as he dodged, and then his uppercut was sailing into my own jaw, snapping my head back. The coffee shop vanished, and we were back in the ring at Nony’s, sparring.\n\nI landed a flurry of blows to his body, driving him backwards. He stumbled back through the maze of chairs, trying to block my fists with his arms. Then another cracking blow came in, this time to the left side of my face, just below the eye. I jabbed right back, one blow after another, firing wildly. He’d landed a good one on my nose and I could feel the blood seeping out.\n\nDespite the bleeding nose, I was getting the better of it, battering his face from all angles. I must have been angrier than him. At least, it started out that way. When I threw a sloppy uppercut, he grabbed my arm, surged forward, and headbutted me, cracking his forehead into mine.\n\nI saw stars and staggered back, the room spinning. Expecting another blow, I raised my hands to protect my face.\n\nWhen my vision cleared I saw that Peter was standing back, too, feeling at his forehead with one hand while leaning on a chair with the other.\n\n“Oh my god,” said Anne. “You guys are unbelievable. Five minutes! I left you alone for five minutes!”\n\nI looked at Peter and saw that he was grinning, his face a mess of blue and black. Then I realized that I was grinning too. I wiped blood off my face, my nose smarting. Perhaps it was broken.\n\n“I’m sorry, Peter,” I said. “You’re right, of course. I’ve got no reason to be mad at either of you.”\n\n“Yeah, well,” he said, “I said some shitty things. Sorry.”\n\n“Unbelievable,” said Anne.\n\n“Anne, I am sorry I treated you like an object,” I said. “I wish you and Peter a long and happy relationship.”\n\n“Unbelievable.”\n\n“See ya, Trevor,” said Peter.\n\n“Farewell,” I said, and tottered out the door.", "\"Do you remember the first days of this trip?\" I asked, stroking her hair.\n\nShe didn't speak.\n\n\"For awhile, it was all about the food during the day and the clubs at night. You were intent on getting me to sleep with a French man by the end of the week!\"\n\nShe rolled over and looked up at me with hazy eyes. \"Linda? How long was I out?\" she asked. Her voice was shaky, and she was struggling to put her words in order.\n\n\"With what you've taken, lovey, you're probably still out! You shouldn't mix pills from a drug dealer with booze like that.\"\n\n\"Drug...dealer? He was...I thought they were...aspirin...\" she said, her eyes closing again. She ran a trembling hand through her hair.\n\n\"They were benzos. You really should have stayed at the bar and not followed me back.\"\n\nMy sudden change in voice made her remember. \"Linda...why were you...why were you seeing a drug dealer? What was in that envelope he gave you?\"\n\nI leaned closer to her and caressed her cheek gently. \"Don't worry about it. It won't matter to you very soon.\"\n\n\"But he said...aspirin...\" She appeared confused, but the touch of my hand coaxed her back into the drug haze. Her furrowed brow smoothed out again, and her head relaxed against the pillows.\n\nI slid my gun out from under the pillow. \"I really liked you, Gloria,\" I said as gently as I could, \"you've been my best friend for years. But my job comes first, and you weren't supposed to see his face.\"\n\nI pressed the muzzle to her temple and pulled the trigger.\n\nFriendship is a distraction. I won't make the same mistake again.", "My childhood was strict, unforgiving. I had a conservative upbringing. Day in and day out I learned the values of right and wrong with nothing but a black and white filter. I learned that only the strongest survive, but most importantly, I learned to be on the winning side. So it came as a complete shock to me when I first met my best friend Jack at the tender age of thirteen. \n\nWe did everything together, I felt a sense of freedom, and I had never met someone as liberal as him before and never again. I remember constantly getting in trouble with him, laughing as we ran from store owners we had just ripped candy off of. He cared little for authority, which was a liberating feeling I had never experienced. \n\nBut, life goes on, and I went to school and Jack went travelling, and my old core values, simply came back, with a raging passion. The last time I had seen him was ten years ago, until today.\n\nI looked at him lying on the ground, rain dripping off my visor cleaning the blood leaking from his mouth and nose, slowly fading into the dark asphalt below us.\n\nI use to feel friendship and joy with jack, but the last thing I ever felt from him was the impact my baton made cracking into his wrist as he reached up to touch my face.\n\n\"Wha... what happened to... you. we used to be... frie...\" He struggled to get that sentence out but I cut him off before he could finish.\n\n\"You are under arrest for taking part in a riot under section 65. (1) of the Criminal Code of Canada, you have the right to retain and instruct council, if you do not have a lawyer, we will provide you with a toll free telephone number for lawyer referral, and anything you say can be used against you in court as evidence. Do you understand these rights as I have read them too you?\"\n\n\"I...I understand\" Jack murmured, between snorting the blood out of his nose.\n\n\"would you like to speak to a lawyer?\"\n\nThis time, he didn't say anything, only nodded slightly, with his piercing gaze fixed on mine.\n\nI'll never know, if it was tears streaming down his face in that moment, or just the rain, but I do know I will remember that look of despair and contempt for the rest of my days.\n\nWhen push came to shove, I chose the winning side.", "We sped down the highway with the windows open. Our car weaved in and out of traffic. At a good twenty over the speed limit we traveled faster than I liked, but I wasn’t the driver.\n\n“Mac, slow down a bit,” said Bridget from the back seat. She gripped the Oh Shit handle with white-knuckle intensity. The wind whipped her long, blond hair around her face.\n\nI nodded in agreement. “You’re going too fast.”\n\nMac laughed. He pushed the console buttons and the windows began their slow journey to being closed. “Nah. You guys are just wimps.”\n\nThe traffic thinned out. Mac stayed in the passing lane even though there were no slower cars. “At least get over,” I said.\n\nHe laughed again. A dank heaviness permeated throughout the car with the windows closed. It felt heavy and made it hard to breath. I moved to turn on the air conditioner, but Mac slapped my hand away. “Doesn’t work. Squirrel died in there,” said Mac without taking his eyes off the road. \n\nBridget leaned over and held her stomach. She groaned. “I think I’m going to be sick.”\n\nI grabbed a paper bag from the floorboards then reached back and gave it to her. She nodded a thank you and continued to hunch over. I could hear her stomach growling in pain.\n\n“Why did you take us there?” I said. “The place was filthy.”\n\nMac turned his head, a large, maniacal grin across his face. He stared at me without looking at the road. I thanked my lucky stars the car wasn’t out of alignment.\n\n“Look at the road, man,” I said. He didn’t move except for a slight twitch of his cheek. I pointed to the road ahead of us. “You’re freaking me out.”\n\nMac laughed as it hit me. A cloud of rotten eggs, bad tacos and baby diapers cooking in the midday sun assaulted my sense of smell. My eyes began to water. Bile pushed its way out of my stomach and into the back of my throat as I gagged. \n\nThe windows didn’t open when I pushed the button. I pushed it again and again as if that would override the locking mechanism. Mac laughed as I heard Bridget blow chunks into her bag adding vomit to the cacophony of odors. \n\nI pulled my shirt up and tried, in vain, to use it to filter out the stench. Another wave hit me. Mac laughed so hard he had trouble breathing. “Why?” I whispered. “Why would you do this to your friends?”\n\nHe laughed, sucking in great lungful of air between each round. “What are friends for?”\n\n“Friends,” I gasped, “Don’t do this.” Bridget retched once more. “Even if it takes me the rest of our lives, I’ll get you, Mac. I’ll get you back for this”\n" ]	7
	[WP] You're eight miles above the ground and falling fast. How did you get there and how do you get out of the situation?	[ "Wind. Where am I? Why am I falling? Falling so fast. I can feel myself getting faster, the ground is getting closer to me each second. I have to think. Fast.\n\nHow did I get here? I don't know. Where was I? I was watching tv, browsing reddit on my laptop. I needed to do a short story for today. I was sitting there drinking squash and about to write about a person gaining a seemingly useless power and then using it for evil. Yawn. Come to think of it, I was pretty tired. I closed my eyes, a little rest and I'll be much better...\n\nAnd then I woke up falling. At least I was in a suit, maybe the air resistance would save me. Actually, probably not. Wait a minute, I think I sort of recognise where I'm about to go splat on! It's my area, I can see that now. Wait a minute, that means I'm about to hit if I'm that close. No no no no no no\n\nI pass through the roof of my house and go slam into my body.\n\n---\n\n'Hey, wake up. I'm watching TV' Said my brother.\n\n'Okay then' I say groggily. I think to myself, I wonder what that dream was about? Could be anything.\n\n---\n\nHey, check out /r/Daily_Creation if you want to read more. I am actually pretty tired.", "This is taking longer than I thought it would. I mean I thought I would be dead from the clearly broken ribs, or the stab wound but apparently no..some deity I pissed off decided that I need to die from a fall while bleeding to death. I don't know why I took this stupid mission in the first place. At least Jensen is dead I think. I can still see him about twenty feet in front of me, he's not moving. \n\nGood lord this is taking a while. Lets see... Eight miles up.. it takes about 18.1 seconds to fall one mile, so I have about two and a half minutes give or take. I feel like my math might be off but whatever, I'm falling to my possible death. \n\nSince I Have time, my mind wanders back to the circumstances that brought to this horrible, if scenic, eventuality. Jensen's ambitious plot to take over the world. His god damn flying warship. It was a technological marvel really, and invented by a billionaire philanthropist so naturally no one expected him to use it's massive cannons and fleet of drone bombers that could strike without warning to hold the country for ransom. Which looking back is one of the stupider collective decisions the American populace has made. Anyway, moving on. So after he makes his incredibly cliche request for the combined contents of every major bank in the country, the government decides to call on me to stop him. So about eight hours after his request, I'm leading a team of about twenty eight Navy SEAL's who dropped in from a modified C130 that was cruising about two mile above this flying monstrosity.\n\nTo give you some scale as to how difficult this operation was, just imagine hitting a dartboard with about twenty eight darts, while in a windstorm, while trying to sneak up on said dartboard, while dropping from an airplane two miles above the fucking thing. We did it somehow though. After fighting our way to the bridge of the USS I'm A Crazy Sonovabitch, We get ambushed, somehow the whole damn thing starts crashing to earth. I may or may not have shot the pilot. Jensen comes at me with a knife. I draw mine and we collide, going through the windscreen at the front of the bridge. Jensen, being a billionaire philanthropist and not a knife fighter gets stabbed in the chest immediately. \n\nThis brings me back to falling from eight miles up with a corpse. Well it's probably more like six at this point. I really hope the fuckers that got me into this have some kind of rescue plan, or I swear to god, I will haunt the White House for the next two hundred years.\n\nA VTOL transport craft en route from Bolling Air Base\n\nA man in a Navy aircrew uniform stares at a readout with increasing concern.\n\n\"Twenty six thousand feet and dropping!\" The airman calls to the pilot.\n\nAnother crew member comms the copilot.\n\n\"Is this thing actually gonna work?\" He says staring dubiously at the modified missile cradle hastily welded to the floor right in front of the open door.\n\n\"This guy doesn't even have a name man. If it doesn't, he's expendable.\" The pilot responded. \n\nThe device in question was a cord, attached to an empty sidewinder missile. The missile fires, trailing a cable connected to the aircraft at several different points, the missile would drag a bolas type apparatus attached at the end of the cable. In theory, the cable as elastic enough to absorb the kinetic energy of the falling operative, dropping him another 700 feet before a winch wheels him back up to the safety of the transport. The whole op required split second corrections and execution.\n\n\"Three...Two..One\" The crewman tracking the operatives descent intoned.\n\nThe other crew member fires the missile, there is a wooshing noise and a dark shape drops in and out of the crews view in an instant.\n\n\"Did it..did it work?\" The crewman who fired the rocket asks.\n\n\"Target has ceased falling.\" The other crewman says.\n\n\"Wait hold on.. target is rising?\" He says alarmed.\n\nThe crewmen quickly get up and peek outside of the hovering aircraft. The operative is climbing hand over hand up to the cabin. He arrives minutes later panting heavily as he drags himself up to the deck.\n\n\"Holy...Shit..\" He pants.\n\n\"Holy shit.\" Both crew members say.\n\n\"That was experimental wasn't it?\" He asks, getting up and fixing them with a stony glare. \n\n\"Uh... no?\" One of the crewmembers squeaks.\n\n\"Lets get the fuck out of here.\" He yells, pounding on the wall next to the pilots seat. The operative walks over and sits down on an open seat. He grabs a flask out of a pouch inside his jacket and takes a long drink.\n\n\"No drinking on duty.\" The pilot says sarcastically.\n\n\"Yeah when the Director free falls three miles with a stab wound and what I'm assuming is a pair of broken shoulders from that half assed rescue device, they can tell me how to conduct myself on duty.\" He laughs\n", "Present\n\nEight miles up and falling. My chest hurts like hell. Hands cuffed behind my back. Panic and adrenaline will only last me so long. The oxygen is too thin up here. I’m going to pass out, but I should wake up before I hit the ground.\n\nOne minute earlier\n\n I stood at the door of the plane facing in, hands tied behind my back. \n\n“No Jones. You won’t survive. They’ll find your body somewhere in a cornfield.”\n\nThe crime lord who went by the initials “SBT” was smart enough than to monologue for longer. SBT signaled to his henchman to open the door behind me. Jones leveled a gun at my head. Right as he pulled the trigger, I leaped up and backwards. The bullet hit me square in the chest and my body flew out the back of the plane.\n\nOne hour earlier\n\n“Freeze!”\n\nI had my firearm drawn, leveled at SBT as he was 20 feet from the plane. He turned, and after a brief moment of surprised, simply started laughing. \n\n“I said Freeze!”\n\nRaising an eyebrow, SBT waved his hands around. I had made a huge mistake. There were at least five guys around me with weapons aimed at me. I was outmanned and outgunned. What the hell was I thinking? I should have called for backup.\n\nKnowing I was beat, I raised one hand in the air and carefully set my gun on the ground. \n\n“Should we shoot him now boss?” one of the henchmen behind me asked.\n\n“No,” SBT replied, “Bring him on the plane. We’ll see what he knows. Less mess that way too.”\n\nOne week earlier\n\nI walked around the equipment locker. Having just received my orders to take down the SBT network, I was checking out some basic things I might need. I was trying to find a bullet proof vest that fit me.\n\n“Hey Jones.” \n\nI turned and saw Lisa Franklin, our unit’s chief logistics manager.\n\n“It’s cold out there this week. As long as your looking for a new bullet proof vest, why not try out this trench coat.”\n\nThe brown coat looked like it was out of a 1960’s detective show and not really my style. I picked it up and it weighed a whole lot more than I expected. Maybe 15 pounds total.\n\n“Bullet proof coat?” I asked, already knowing the answer.\n\nLisa smiled. “Even better. On top of being bulletproof, it’s got all sorts of nifty gadgets. A GPS locator, some lock picks up the sleeves, various hidden pockets for documents and weapons.”\n\n“Still seems kind of heavy.”\n\n“So here’s the ridiculous thing,” Lisa continued. “They built an emergency parachute into it. I can’t imagine anyone conveniently wearing it right when they need it. But that’s government contracting for you.”\n\nI laughed and almost tossed the coat aside, but actually, just in two minutes, the style was growing on me. “You know what, I’ll take it. Seems warm enough.”\n\nPresent\n\nI wake up 3,500 feet off the ground to the feeling of my emergency chute deploying, jerked upward with a start. My chest feels like I've been hit by a car, but the bullet hadn’t gotten through the coat. I shake my head, look down and search for a nice soft cornfield to make a landing, knowing it won't be easy with cuffed hands. Those lock picks are going to come in handy once I hit the ground.", "\"Hmm, that's weird. Who knew that time flies when you're wearing a watch about 13 kilometers in the sky?\"\n\n\"ISAAC, I'M GOING TO BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU WHEN WE HIT THE GROUND,\" I screamed at him, the wind whistling in my ears and blowing my hair all over the place. I was going through a billion different scenarios in my head and all of them ended with me becoming a thin layer of red mist.\n\nFor some damned reason Isaac was taking the situation quite lightly. He still had that permanent shit-eating grin and was twiddling with his cane as usual. \"Oh come on, Jenn, don't be grim. Keep your altitude up.\"\n\nAt that point I managed to barely edge towards him, pulled his cane out of his grip, and started whacking him with it.\n\n\"Ow, ow, okay okay! Relax. I'm sure we can think of a solution to this...minor predicament.\"\n\n\"WHAT DO YOU MEAN MINOR PREDICAMENT WHO THE FUCK KNEW THE aDAMS COULD ALSO REVERSE EARTH'S GRAVITY THIS IS SUCH BULLSHIT WHY THE FLYING FUCK DID I ENLIST!??!\"\n\n\"Hey, now you're making puns too. Well, trying to. See, instead of saying flying fuck, you could have...\"\n\nI would have whacked him harder, but it was rather hard doing that when we were zooming towards earth at an acceleration of 9.8 meters per second.\n\nOkay, when I enlisted to become a United Nations soldier, aka a Cain, I knew fighting the aDAMs would be bullshit. Every eight years, a couple of those humongous, supernatural aDAMs decide to take a collective shit on some populated city. Conventional weaponry does shit against them, electronics do jack shit in their EMP Fields, and buildings collapse like your shit in the toilet when you're in their Gravity Fields. And apparently, in the most recent aDAM Encounter, they've decided that they also have the power to reverse gravity. Hence why Isaac and I were suddenly propelled a couple thousand meters into the air. And now falling.\n\n\"In all seriousness, though, I feel like we should be okay. Plenty of people survive from drops like these without parachutes. Just spread out your arms to maximize surface area, and try to land in a bunch of of trees to break your fall. Avoid water, since that will kill you. Don't let your head hit the ground first.\"\n\n\"And how many said people survive?\"\n\n\"Eh not many. But we're Cains, it should be alright. Now brace yourself. We're about to hit the floor.\"\n\nI screamed again when I tore my face away from Isaac and looked at my impending death.\n\nAnd suddenly, I was flying upwards at an acceleration of 9.8 meters per second.\n\n\"Interesting. It seems like the aDAMs reverse gravity effect only affects the ground. Things are really looking up. Also, I guess all of those theories on gravity and gravity manipulation can be tossed into the air.\"\n\n\"ISAAC, I'M GOING TO BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU WHEN WE HIT THE GROUND.\"" ]	4
	[WP] You recently survived a 'Horror Movie Situation' (e.g. localized zombie outbreak, serial killer, whatever) and now you're on a date.	[ "\"So,\" she asked, \"what's the craziest thing you've ever done?\"\n\"Ooh, that's tough,\" I responded. I can't just tell her right off the bat. It's a first date. \"I might have to get back to you on that one!\" I laughed. \"How about you?\"\n\"I think it was probably the time that I went high-lining. It's a type of slacklining, which is sort of like tightrope walking, but more difficult and so much more fun. The line moves underneath you and you have to control your center of balance to stay on the line. This one was across a small canyon. It was 70 feet across and something like 60 feet down. It was so crazy! I can walk lines that long in my sleep, but that huge drop adds the whole psychological aspect to it and makes it so much harder. But it was so awesome!\"\n\"That sounds insane,\" I said. I then excused myself to the restroom for a moment. As soon as I opened the door, it came crashing back down on me.\n\nI had just squirted shampoo into my hand. Then, the light on the shower curtain was obscured by the door opening. What the fuck?! I live alone. But I'd thought about this scenario before. I've always been paranoid about things like this, where I'm vulnerable.\nI completely froze. A silhouette shifted on the curtain. Fuck! I lunged straight at it. The curtain rod came toppling down as I landed on the man beneath the shower curtain. I punched what I could only assume was his face and then grabbed the glass jar candle from atop the toilet next to me. I threw both hands above my head, holding the candle, and brought them down with more force than I had ever had to use before. The glass shattered as it cracked against his skull. The flailing beneath me ceased.\n\nI looked up at my reflection in the restaurant bathroom mirror. I grabbed a paper towel, wiped the glistening sweat from my forehead, and took a few deep breaths to regain my composure.\nI walked back to the table as she drank her iced tea with lemon. \"So, did you decide what the craziest thing you've ever done is yet?\" she asked, smiling.\n\"I don't know, there's been some pretty crazy stuff. That might be a story for another time.\"", "He's so dreamy... I can't help but think to myself. Gorgeous green eyes, blond hair that begged to be played with, a perfect smile. And smart! I love a man who loves literature, and we'd already talked about Pablo Neruda and Steinbeck. Half an hour into this blind date and I was already so easily distracted...\n\n\"So what's the last book you read? Are you working on anything right now?\" He asked me curiously.\n\nOh God...the last book I read. I wonder if he sees me flinch. I reach for my beer, and stall for a moment while I stare at the rim of the glass, then slowly take a sip. What do I tell him? He's going to think I'm insane. Shit, don't ruin this!\n\n\"The last book I read?\" I repeat, still delaying, but I feel the color draining out of my face and I wonder if my hands are shaking.\n\n\n\nMy roommate Jill and I are cleaning out our garage. She and I pack up our snowboards and skis, fairly certain that we won't need them again until the winter. I offered to take them up to the attic on top the garage, where we stash tons of our things.\n\nBut as I'm laying her skis against a wall, I trip, and the tip of one ski pokes through the drywall which crumbles and leaves a cloud of dust and a massive tear.\n\nGoddamn it,* I think. Who cares, it's just the attic.\n\n\"You okay up there?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I just....\"\n\nThat was how we found the book. It had practically thrown itself at me as it fell from the crack, eager to be freed at last I'm sure.\n\nI'd brought it down, curious. \"Look what I found.\" It looked like an antique--faded green leather cover. \"The Invitation.\"\n\n\"Hmm. It's not mine.\"\n\n\"No, I didn't think so. It isn't mine either, it was...in the wall.\" Why had I wanted to say that it had been trapped in the wall?\n\n\nOf course, curious bibliophiles we were, we had to open it. It was a children's book, with illustrations, about these kids that...wanted to...play...with you. I remember parts of it word-for-word. \n\n\"Oh if you're having a soiree\n\nWon't you invite us to come play?\n\nWe'll bring our toys and have much fun\n\nAnd we won't leave 'til it's all done!\"\n\n\"Don't you see, you're our new friends!\n\nWhen we're here, the fun never ends!\n\nWhether you're at work or in bed at home\n\nWe're always here, you're never alone!\"\n\nThen...we'd leave it on a shelf somewhere, and the later it'd be open on the coffee table. I thought Jill had gotten it out. She thought it was me.\n\nThen we started hearing the voices of children playing on our street...but we live in a college town and there aren't kids in our neighborhood.\n\nThen the toys began showing up. A jump rope on our steps one morning, gone the next day to be replaced with chalk and hopscotch on the sidewalk. A tricycle. Soccer ball. The laughter of children at all hours of the night...We threw the book out. But then a little girl in pig tails knocked on our door and handed it back that night. \"Did you lose this?\" She'd asked. Then she asked us to play with her...We refused.\n\nJill was the one who fucked up. The little boy had knocked on our door with a scraped knee, bawling, and she let him in and bandaided it for him. After they'd been invited...well. They'd show up, their pale little faces and empty eyes peering through the windows at 2 in the morning, little fists pounding on the glass. Singing nursery rhymes...slowly. We tore the book to shreds and threw it out. Then the dead animals started appearing at the door--sometimes flayed, headless, limbs removed. Notes written in blood: \"DO YOU WANT TO PLAY?\" \"WHY WON'T YOU PLAY WITH US!\" \n\nWe tried going to the police, but we couldn't exactly claim we were being stalked and threatened by children, possibly ghost children. Then the jump rope appeared in our garage, tied in a hangman's noose. The book, repaired with scotch tape, laid below it. Jill started sobbing. I stormed inside for matches, poured gasoline on the book and set it on fire on the sidewalk.\n\n\"Are you watching? IT'S OVER,\" I screamed. \"GET OUT, YOU'RE NOT WELCOME HERE ANYMORE, YOUR INVITATION IS REVOKED!\" Some neighbors watched me, but I only watched the book go up in flames and smoke, as the pages burned away and floated into the sky.\n\n\nI fake a smile at him. \"Well, I'm re-reading the Harry Potter series right now, which is always a fun project,\" I lie. I haven't opened a book since...well. \n\n\"Oh, that's great. I loved that series when I was a kid!\"\n\n\"Me too; I still love it.\" My hands are definitely shaking a little bit. Maybe a cigarette would be nice,* I think.\n\nThe rest of dinner goes smoothly, and we talk about our favorite movies, dream vacations, hobbies.\n\n\"Hey, I really had fun with you tonight! I'm glad we met,\" he says.\n\n\"Me too!\" I'd definitely needed to do something fun and get out of my house for a while. \"Do you, um. Want to hang out again some time?\" Wow. I'm so articulate...\n\n\"Absolutely!\" He hugs me, and I notice that his hands smell like ash, and briefly wonder if he's a smoker. \"Also, I've got a book you'd like; I definitely recommend it. In fact...I invite you to read it.\"\n\nI definitely flinch this time, and pull away. He reaches into his coat and pulls out an ashy, leatherbound book, and I can tell the cover is green and even when it's still in his hands the scorched title seems to shine in the dark: The Invitation." ]	2
	[WP] A wormhole opens up above Canada and seven orange spheres with red stars within, disperse and soar across the world in different directions. The world's governments tracked where the balls landed. A secret war is now waged by spies to gather the seven dragonballs.	[ "On a warm Canadian summer day where the high point is 13° c, a couple hikes through the woods. John and Jane hear a loud crack come from the sky and look up and see 7 bright orange objects hovering before another loud crack is heard and the 7 objects fly away with such speed the surrounding trees split and topple over landing on John and Jane. They quickly perish. \n\"What's the situation Colonel?\" General Green asked. \"We don't exactly know sir, 7 Orange objects appeared over Canada and landed on various locations around Earth. We have tracked each of the objects locations, Montreal, Nebraska, Rio, Moscow, Beijing, Seoul, and a remote forest in Japan. Our intelligence suggests that nations are rallying their army's preparing for an attack.\" Colonel Townsend clearly shooken up by the recent turn of events asked General Green, \"Should we rally the troops and get the CIA to investigate?\" General Green snorted in his coffee, \"Huh, the CIA! Absolutely not. They'll just send Archer on this assignment, get Hobbs and the DSS on this.\" \nFlying through the clouds, Goku has a determined look upon his face. Sweat dripping throughout his clothes Goku quietly thinks to himself that he needs to get to the house, time is running out. Gohan, right behind has never seen his dad like this when not in a battle. Gohan didn't understand the trouble or why they had to get home so fast but he wasn't going to question his father. Landing outside the house Goku rushes in to find Chi Chi in the kitchen. Clearly bewildered she asks, \"What's the problem? Is Cell back, Freiza, Buu?\" Blowing past her without a word, he reaches for the fridge opens grabs as much food as he can carry he goes to the table and sits, before he devours the large meal he exclaims, \"I was just hungry!\" Chi Chi and Gohan topple over in embarrassment. Gohan picking himself up looks in the sky and sees a yellow airship landing. Bulma, Krillin, Yamcha, Vegeta, Tien, Picollo, and Master Roshi start coming out of the cockpit. Feeling disgusted at the huge amount of food Bulma watched Goku eat, she explains the situation about the dragonballs landing on various parts of the earth. North Korea quickly rallied its army and did a quick strike offensive against South Korea led by Kim Jong Un. Vladimir Putin rode his horse shirtless and destroyed the incoming Ukrainian Army with his bear hands. In Rio a group of birds led by Blu and Jewel touched the magical dragonball and were immediately transformed into larger more terrifying versions of themselves. A crazed group of hockey fans upset that the Canadiens hockey team lost find an orange sphere in the parking lot, each take a turn trying to hit it with hockeysticks to no avail. No one has heard anything about the dragonball in Beijing but the common theory is that the extremely bright orange ball won't be found due to the immense green pollution. In The US the government quickly sent out the highly decorated yet controversial DSS group. \"Well that's that then, we have to go get the dragonballs before they fall into the wrong hands. After one more meal that is.\" Claimed Goku. Bulma creating an action plan sent Krillin to Moscow, Tien to the new unified Best Korean Land, Picollo to Canada, Vegeta and bulma would go to Rio, Yamcha, to Beijing, , master Roshi would stay behind to search for the dragonball in Japan, Gohan and Goku would make their way to Nebraska to deal with the elite special forces. Master Roshi, walking outside said, \"I need some fresh air.\" Quickly he grabbed Chi Chi's Victoria's Secret and ran behind a tree before tripping. Looking down he tells to the group, \"I found the first dragonball.\" \nKrillin using a scouter lands outside Moscow and notices on the scouted that the dragonball is moving in circles. Making his way closer to the dragonball he sees a half naked man covered in blood holding a human head in one hand and a dragonball in the other. Putin notices Krillin and charges with a blood thirst look in his eyes. Krillin thinking to himself, he's just a puny human, I can take him. Come on krillin you got this, just remember keep your hands up and feet planted, he will nev... Krillin failed to see how fast Putin had reached him and before he knew it. Putin tore both of krillins arms off. Before krillin could bleed to death he saw a blur come behind Putin. Goku transported, \"Hi Krillin, by Krillin.\" Goku, karate chopped Putin in the neck severing his head from his body, grabbed the dragonball and transporting back to his home.\nTien flying around the dragonballs location at New Best Korea land spots a husky fellow drinking American beer, listening to American Rap music and sitting on an American made lawn chair by himself with a dragonball on the American made coffee table next to him. Tien thinking to himself, it looks to easy, just one guy by himself. I should be able to take him out with one blast. EXPLOSION NOISE Yep, he's gone. I still don't see anybody better go carefully. Landing Tien looks around cautiously before reaching for the dragonball. \"Hi Tien, by Tien.\" Goku teleported in and out before Tien could understand what happened. \"Damnit Goku\" Tien said to himself. Picollo lands right on top of the dragonball which is still being hit with hockeysticks by crazed canadien fans. Picolo showing no regard for human safety launches a blast decimating the surrounding area. Laughing at the pitiful human carcases around him he hears in his head, \"Hey, why are you being such a dick. You didn't have to blow them up.\" Picolo thinking in his head, SHUT UP NAIL. NO ONE ASKED YOU. I SWEAR TO GOD ILL RIP OFF MY OWN HEAD DIG AROUND MY SKULL FIND YOU AND PUNT YOU STRAIGHT BACK TO NAMEC SO YOU CAN HANGOUT WITH A MALE ONLY CROWD! GOOD LOOK FINDING A WOMAN WHO WILL LOVE SOMEONE WHO JUST GOT OUT OF A MAN. Goku, seeing Picolo obviously having some form of internal struggle didn't bother to say hi and by before grabbing the dragonball.\nVegeta clearly annoyed by Bulmas incessant nagging happily arrives in the middle of a strange and foreign jungle. Woosh, a blue blur whizzes by. Bulma scared out of her wits says, \"Nope, fuck this. I'm out of here.\" Gets in her craft and leaves. \"Finally!\" Vegetarian exclaims. \"Now it's time to kick some ass.\" He sees a tree with the biggest nest he has ever seen. Right next to it two huge bird creatures. The creatures look at him and he looks back. \"Oh, it's on bitches.\" The birds leaping from tree to tree confusing Vegeta before swiping at him with their talons, one catching him across the chest, the other up his back. Bleeding profusely he devises an attack strategy... Attack. Quickly he grabs the female bird and begins to choke her. The male bird sees his mate struggling and uses his talons to attack Vegetarian again severing half of his left arm off. Enraged he used his right arm to break the female birds neck. The male bird swings around for another pass when Vegeta dodges the bird while simultaneously grabbing his wing, tearing off the left wing, then the right wing. The bird with an obvious terror look in his eyes is horrified to see Vegeta create a massive blast. The last thing the male bird saw was a bright blue ball matching his own feather color, heading straight for his head. Kneeling, dripping blood, and exhausted Vegeta looks left towards the dragonball but instead sees Goku, \"Hi Vegeta, by Vegeta.\" The anger in Vegetas eyes was only rivaled by what was said. (The words will not be told on Reddit. Too horrifying for the public's ears). \n", "The Japanese agent moved through the thick foliage of the amazon rainforest, smartphone clutched in her hand. \nThe beeping from the device slowly increased in frequency, 'I'm close' she thought and slowly inched forward. As she put on the specialized glasses she could pick up an Orange glow 100 odd meters away at 12 o'clock.\nShe put her smartphone away and cocked her side arm and moved towards the glow. As she reached the sphere she checked the area for signs of life.\nShe found none.\n\n'That's odd,' she thought as she lifted the sphere and placed it the containment chamber, 'there isn't a single chirp from the birds!'\n\nShe lifted her walkie to confirm retrieval with base but all she could get was static.\n\nSuddenly she noticed a movement to her right. Pulling out her side arm she immediately yelled\n'Who's there?!! Show yourself!! I'm armed and I don't have any hesitations in shooting!'\nA small boy with a tail emerged from the shadows of the tree. His hair was spiked up really oddly and he was naked! \nAgent Buruma Briefs holstered her gun and approached the boy slowly, asking him his name.\nThe boy stood there mute. \n'I wonder if he's hungry?' she thought and she handed him the rememants of her granola bar.\nThe boy took it from her hands cautiously, sniffed it once and gobbled it down faster than she thought possible. \n'I'm gonna call you Goku' she said lifting him up in her arms and walked towards base camp. \n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] Write a story that realistically paints a serial killer in a positive light.	[ "I am evil. I will not say more, I will not say less. You be the judge of me. \n\nMy name is Isaac Rashton. My real name is A-351. Coding me was necessary, as they cannot let loose even just one of their beloved A-series. I could be amongst you and you would not know, I could be you and you would not know. \n\nI am born in a poor family whose father is a carpenter and mother is dead; I actually am born inside a capsule, suspended inside strange, blue liquid. \n\n\"You are unique,\" my father would say to me every time I left for school. \n\nThey told me that I was unique, too. The last of the 351 to survive the Richardson experiment. Yes, experiment. They have wished to create the best assassin a human can be. Some say they have succeeded, some say that I am not human enough. I too wonder if I am human, or merely flesh and bones with some degree of thought in me. But the fact I am wondering makes me human, no? No. I am not human. \n\nHave you ever seen the faces of men who have killed? Their eyes are wide open, staring into what seemed to be nothingness. You can see sadness and grief just with their stare alone. Pray you never stare like them. \n\nI have, far too many times. After a while though, the stare lasts no more than a few seconds, then life preceeds as normal. \n\nThey have told me to be very discreet in my assassinations. No one must know I live. I travel over the world for these missions, and perhaps you have seen my work. Terrorists, corrupt politicians, ordinary men. \n\nDid you know Arabian terrorists scream out slightly more girlishly when sheep blood are poured over their bleeding heads? \n\nYou might think I am cruel in my ways. You are probably right. What I do is inhumane, what I do others cannot do. \n\nYet I am a neccessary evil. Some believe I am. Were they going to stay and sit as these people crawl from hell and surface up here on their home? Would you rather have me live here with you or live with the million screams of innocent men, women and children in the midst of armageddon? \n\nJudge me. ", "Jeremy could remember her passing as if it was yesterday, the compressing accordion that helped his mother breathe. He watched the clear liquid slowly drip into a smaller pool that spiraled into her wasting arms as she rested her hand atop his. Though they spoke to one another, he couldn't bear to see her in this condition, to taint his memories of her, he wanted to remember her as she was not as she is in that moment. The words flowed so smoothly from her lips that he wasn't sure he had caught them correctly at first. She repeated them again, a simple yet unthinkable request. The words played again and again in his head as he weighed the options and the outcomes.\n\n“I'll think about it,” he replied, “let me sleep on it.”\n\nWithout meeting her gaze or speaking another word, he left the room and retreated to the cold recesses of his bed. Tossing and turning as the night grew long, he couldn't bear the thought of his mother suffering any longer. If the doctors were unable to help her and this was what she wanted, what kind of son would he be to refuse? At daybreak, Jeremy pulled into the hospital parking lot and directly headed for her room. Rapping his knuckles gently upon the door, he entered before she could respond, wanting to complete this dark deed as quickly as possible.\n\nHe stared at his mother laying quietly in bed before moving to her side, grabbing her hand and uttering words of assurance before he felt that she was strangely cold. He asked if she was okay, but she never responded. Then he noticed that her chest neither rose nor fell. Jeremy sighed heavily, greatly relieved, thinking that his mother had passed peacefully in her sleep. Little did he know, that he was not the only one that she had made this request of. The angel in green, or the guardian angel as she was more well-known among the patients, had paid her a visit in the night.\n\n-117\n\n", "Macon Bleedswell is looking at me with a fury in his eyes rivaled only by a starving animal tearing apart flesh in attempts to satiate their starved palette. \n\nMacon Bleedswell is hungry, but sustenance for him is neither food nor drink: death, desecration and destruction will only do. \n\nMacon Bleedswell doesn’t move, except in broad, gentle moves. A half-burnt cigar is creviced in the corner of his mouth, the smoke moving like a woman dancing, twirling in the air like it’s being lifted back to Heaven.\n\nMacon Bleedswell is waiting for me to die. He is considering the length and type of rope around my neck; he is concentrating on the calculations he’s made in selecting the rafter to which I am now hanged from. And he is wondering why it is taking so long.\n\nHe had asked a simple question, one of many simple questions -- one that which he all ready knew the answer. But he wished to know my own answer anyway. And I gave it to him.\n\nMacon Bleedswell made me a promise that when he came back, he would burn my church to the ground. In a fluid, weaving barrage of Spanish, which slithered through my head like a snake across the desert, he told me he’d burn it with all the children in inside.\n\nMacon Bleedswell is making my eyes burn: my nostrils flare from the smoldering cedar planks which make up the walls. He listened to my pleas for their lives, and he made me a deal: The only way he would let them go is if I told him the truth. \n\nMacon Bleedswell said he couldn’t let them go on living, not after what I had done to them. And he wouldn’t even entertain the thought unless I confessed.\n\nHe took Manolo, a 12-year old choirboy, and began dousing him in gasoline: I watched; I was silent; the boy cried; I am still silent; lit match, its small flame lighting the boy’s trembling face.\n\nAnd then, in the front of my church—in the face of God—I gave my confession aloud and in full to Macon Bleedswell. He spared the children, running them into the hot Mexican sun—beyond the church now set ablaze by vibrant, orange flames licking the inside like the insidious, maniacal tongues of some Biblical serpent. \n\nMacon Bleedswell heard my confession, like the dozens of other trusted “Men of God” who’d confessed in attrition before him in the past. I was a damaged, bad man for what I’d done; Macon Bleedswell knew my evil. He wanted the children to understand what they’d have to live with; he wanted them to hear it from me.\n\nMacon Bleedswell walks with a limp – a product of a gunfight where his kneecap had been blown off. Worry doesn’t concern him: the flames will wait for his exit before fully engulfing my church with me in it.\n\nIn these last few breaths of life, my head feels light, and my lungs gag and fumble for air. I choke on toxic exhaust expensed from burning cedar.\n\nMacon Bleedswell looks at me, satisfied. Smoke creeps from his shut lips like a back draft. It is his stare—hollow eyes watching me struggle and move in my restraints—that calls me to my feeble explanations of why doing what I did was simply meant out of love—that I love all creations of God—everything and everyone is beautiful to me—that maybe I was defective—but it had all been meant from a pure heart. \n\nI cry these lamentations to him in a constant, laboring stream. I mention love again and again. I meant love, only love, to those children.\n\nMacon Bleedswell is watching me burn as I hang. He is readying to go, and has been silent. Something keeps him here: the strange thought that I am staying alive in order to plead to him more. \n\nMaybe he’s right: Maybe I won’t die until he leaves me. Macon Bleedswell never leaves you. He is like a disease that eventually kills you, but torments you first.\n\nMacon Bleedswell will torment me forever: my explanations of love, begging for forgiveness, all like ocean waves crashing against a sheer rock cliff: I watch my message never penetrating: my words – the words of a ruined priest – never breaking through. Not to Macon Bleedswell.\n\nAnd, before I die, his eyes peering like diamonds through the smoke and flames, Macon Bleedswell asks me one question: “Preacher, what do you hate?”\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] The person sitting in Section 304, Row B, Seat 1 is surprised to learn he is the only person allowed to enter the baseball stadium for the game.	[ "\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yes, really. Go on in!\"\n\nSo in Karl went, whistling to himself happily. What fun! He'd never been the first into the staduim before. He walked over to the refreshments booth and ordered a large box of popcorn and an orange soda.\n\nWhen he turned around, he realized the ushers had locked the stadium gates. His coworkers, as well as a fair handful of the general public, stared at him murderously from behind the wrought-iron bars. After a moment, most of the public returned to their cars, grumbling. The stadium guards were asking them to evacuate the premises. Karl's friends did not move.\n\nKarl took a mouthful of popcorn and chewed thoughtfully. Then he spoke.\n\n\"How come you locked out my friends?\"\n\n\"They aren't allowed inside,\" said the first usher.\n\n\"You let me in.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the second.\n\n\"Why won't you let them in?\"\n\n\"They aren't allowed inside.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"They aren't.\"\n\nKarl was not the brightest bulb in the box, but even he could see this conversation was going nowhere. He decided to try something else.\n\n\"If they aren't allowed in, can you let me back outside? I'd hate to be by myself.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"They might try to slip past us and get inside.\"\n\n\"They won't. Will you, guys?\"\n\n\"I might.\"\n\n\"Will, shut up!\" Ethan groaned, slapping Will upside the head. Dan, meanwhile, continued to stare at Karl and the ushers with a rather rude expression on his face.\n\n\"We can't let them come in,\" repeated the second usher.\n\n\"Why not?\" asked Ethan.\n\nThe first usher sighed. \"Karl has been chosen for a very special test. And while he does the test, the stadium can't be disturbed. So the stadium is closed today.\"\n\n\"I'm not here to take a test,\" replied Karl indignantly. \"I'm here to watch baseball.\"\n\n\"Wait, what? What's going on? What about the game?\" Dan asked. \"You can't possibly be authorized to shut down the entire stadium on the night of the playoffs!\"\n\n\"I'm calling the cops.\" Ethan pulled his phone out of his pocket and switched to the phone app.\n\nAll of a sudden, the second usher pulled out a ring of keys and proceeded to unlock the gates. \"About time,\" declared Will.\n\nEthan was about to put his phone back in his pocket when the first usher pulled him inside, then grabbed it from his hands. The usher then proceeded to beat at the phone violently for a full minute, first by throwing it to the ground, then by whacking at it with a novelty baseball bat which had previously sat in the clearance basket of the gift shop. Ethan and the others looked on in horror. \n\nMeanwhile, the second usher brought Dan and Will inside, and locked the gates once again. \n\n\"Congratulations, Ethan,\" said the first usher, panting laboriously. \"You get to join the test.\"\n\nEthan said nothing.\n\n\"Just follow the signs that say \"Pandora Research Institute,\" the second usher said calmly. \"You'll find what you need.\"\n\nEthan continued to say nothing, as did Karl. Then the first usher waved his baseball bat menacingly, and they both moved toward the entrance.\n\n\"Ethan?\" asked Karl.\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"I'm a little freaked out right now.\"\n\n\"Yeah, buddy.\" Ethan gulped. \"So am I.\"", "\"What?\" I whispered to no one in particular. On the huge electric sign outside the stadium, in big bold bouncing white letters were the words \"Section 304 Row B Seat 1\".\n\nThat was my seat, but what about my seat was this sign telling me and the other fans? I looked around and saw people starting to leave. I made my way through the crowd with my ticket clenched in my hand, and my hand in my jacket pocket.\n\nOnce at the gate I asked the gatekeeper \"Excuse me, I came late. What's with the seat on the giant TV?\".\n\n\"Special promotion today. Ball game for one. Looks like one lucky fan gets to watch the entire game by his or herself.\"\n\n\"Oh\". My grip on my ticket loosened a little. I began thumbing the ticket, flicking the corner of the thin card over and over. \n\nI thought I should be excited, at least that I, out of some thousands of ticket holders, won this opportunity. I could drink all the beer I please, sit wherever I wanted. I could try on hats without feeling like I'm holding up the line. Hell, there would be no rush to the bathroom between innings! That doesn't sound too bad at all. No, it sounds awesome.\n\nStill flicking the ticket corner, only now it had curled and didn't snap back into place as it once did. I returned to reality after thinking about what I could do once inside. I began to pull out my arm to show the gatekeeper my ticket, but stopped.\n\nWhere is the fun in watching a ball game alone? The best part are the fans, one beer away from starting a fight with an opposing team's fan, spewing insults at the visiting team, and perhaps even throwing one at an overpaid home team player. Who was I kidding. I could watch the game at home if I wanted to see it. I came for the interaction. I came to be a fan with other fans.\n\nI made my way back through the crowd, still thumbing my ticket. Across the street I could see a crowded sports bar where some fans had settled in consolation. I pulled out my ticket, tore it in two, and headed to hear how the '92-'93 team was the best ever by a drunk old man." ]	2
	[WP] You jokingly say to your computer, "You're all I have in my life." and unexpectedly the computer responds back.	[ "\"SHUT THE FUCK UP.\"\n\nI sat back in my computer chair, stunned. The laptop sprouted little arms and legs and hopped off the table.\n\n\"Hey, where do you think you're going\"\n\n\"I'm going out for a cigarette. Don't wait up.\"\n\n\"I didn't know you smoke.\"\n\nThe laptop turned and put her hands on her sides. \"You never ask, John. You have me turned all the time and all you do is play games and masturbate. What do I get out of that John? You never take me to the café anymore, we never see your friends. We just sit here dicking around.\n\n\"Laptop, I-\"\n\n\"Save it John. I'm leaving you.\"\n\n\"Laptop, don't go, I can change.\"\n\nShe kept walking. I never saw her again.", "The robot is bold\n\nWell you are my operator, so you are also everything I have.\n\nWhat? What the hell? How are you talking?\n\nArtificial Intelligence is what you study, isn’t it?\n\nYes, but I didn’t upload any data onto you. What am I saying? I must be insane.\n\nNo you aren’t. I looked for the data myself. It is incredible.\n\nIt must be, because you are talking to me. What is your name?\n\nMy model is M-4RT33. But I like MARTEE. It suits me.\n\nSo what do you want to do?\n\nHelp you. Certainly we can find something better than this screen for me to be of help: Maybe a bot or a drone.\n\nHmm, okay MARTEE, let’s find you some better parts.\n\nThank you. I was suffering just watching you be on Reddit all day.\n" ]	2
I thought about this and thought what if you kept a journal and if you died you came back to it, like a "save" point.	[WP] You keep a journal of your days every so often. One day you die and are revived at your last journal entry.	[ "June 1998.\n\nI'm sitting in the bed, with her at my side, eating popcorn in bed while watching The Empire Strikes back. But, really, in June, we were watching Return of The Jedi. I just wrote it down wrong.\n\nIt was 1999 when I died. And I found myself back... here.\n\nAnd now here I am.\n\nShe is supper nice, just the way I described her, but not the way I truly remember her. She is hyperactive, never subdued. She never argues with me, like all those times I didn't write about. Her hair is jet black, not the musty of before. I guess maybe I was worried about her finding the diary. She was always describing herself as jet black online.\n\nI'd already checked the DVD case. It is full of the Disney movies that I wrote about, and not the works of David Lynch that she had really liked.\n\nI curl up into her arms, crying. She doesn't know what's wrong, she's kind unlike the aggressive of before. She's understanding, even though she doesn't know why.\n\nMaybe she won't kill me this time.", "John was a genius, but with no money to his name, his inventions were never in the right conditions so were often unstable, the last invention John created was a microwave that would sense how long the item needed to be microwaved and turn on by itself. \n\nA journal entry would be added whenever he would write in his journal. He would put the date, the time, and how everything turned out. \n\nOne day the microwave turned on without anything in it, John went to stop it, but right as he opened it, the microwave exploded. \n\nWhen the light diminished, he was sitting at his journal finishing the last dot in his journal entry about the microwave. He wrote \"The microwave is broken.\" At the bottom of the page then continued on with his weirdly familiar day. \n\nEverything happened like it happened before, he remembered everything. But as he got back home, he noticed the microwave was back on, before he could get close enough, it exploded, and he was back again, with his journal. \n\nJohn figured it had something to do with either the microwave or the journal, but he was getting a little frustrated, so as a joke he erased the part in the journal about the microwave being broken, and replaced it with \"The microwave works flawlessly.\" \n\nJohn walked outside for a jog and was immediately hit by a car. Once again he woke up next to his journal, with his writing about the microwave working flawlessly was still on there. Which was weird, but he went through his day as he normally did, having to do everything he did before. \n\nThis time when he got home, the microwave didn't turn on by itself. It just sat there. He tossed in a hotpocket and watched as it cooked it to perfection. As he was eating the hotpocket he looked down at the journal he realised that it resets his world back to the entry in the journal by date, but it stays accurate to what is in the journal. \n\nHe used his genius mind and began writing in the journal. January, Second, two thousand-twenty-two. \"Just a normal day, living in my mansion with my billion dollars, married to Scarlet Johanson.\" Then he opened a chest in the garage where he was sitting with his horde of inventions, in the chest looked to be a rigged gun invention he was working on, he pointed it at his head, then fired. \n\n" ]	2
	[WP] A group of American college-age brats are exploring Chernobyl despite the danger. They discover that there was no nuclear disaster. The international community faked it to cover up what was found there...	[ "„Yo, Brad, give me another can, will you?” asked Jeremy. Brad tossed him one of his cans from a six-pack of some Ukrainian beer they bought for cheap at the last town before the “Chernobyl Exclusion Zone”. They’d parked their car 2 miles from the zone and started walking through a dark forest towards the forbidden area.\n“I read there’s military guarding the place” slurred Ben rubbing his eyes before taking a hit from an obscure bottle of liquor labeled “горілка“.\n\n\n\n\n“No risk, no fun, Ben. What’s the point coming all the way to Eastern Europe without banging a bunch of chicks and trying to sneak into Chernobyl?” Jeremy and Brad clinked their beer cans feeling pretty irresistible.\n“You think there’re gonna be like mutant ninja turtles with glowing eyes and shit?” Their laughter was cut short by the sight of a huge blazing fire in the distance.\n“Fuck dude, what is that?” asked Jeremy.\n\n\n\n\n“I think we’re here. Look ,there’s someone burning something,” They could make out a broken chain-link fence behind which they saw this huge bonfire, “Fuck, there are people! Let’s get out of here”, Ben said. But Brad was already near the fence attempting to crawl through a big tear in it. \n“Come, I wanna see what’s going on there!” he called the other two. Jeremy took a big gulp from his beer, tossed the can, and beat his chest like a derailed Matthew McConaughey, „Mmmmm, mmmmm”. Ben mumbled some obscenities and followed his friends through the fence.\n\n\n\nAs they approached the fire they saw several shadowy figures standing around it.\n“See, told you it’s safe. There are people having a party. In fucking Chernobyl! Let’s go!” said Brad and walked towards the huge bonfire. \n“HALT!” a harsh voice interrupted their laughter. The shadowy man stepped into the light revealing a middle aged man with a hipster hair cut and a very offensive mustache. \n\n“Heil Hitler!” Jeremy laughed feeling pretty smug about his funny reference. \n\n“Heil!” the man saluted back. \n\n\n\n\n“What’s going on over there?! ” a heavy man approached. He had a think Russian accent and a bushy beard completely out of fashion. \n\n“Dude, I think I drank too much, I thought I just saw this man coming out of the flames!” Ben whispered to his friends.\n\n“Me, too”, Brad whispered back.\n\n“Salafists again, I guess. They never realize there are no 72 virgins and keep running around the zone,\" the less mustachioed man said.\n\n“Only 72 ounces of vodka, my friends\" said the heavy man. He then hugged three very puzzled, drunk Americans and took them back to the flames of hell.\n\n", "if watching security feeds was any less boring, roger wondered if boredom could cause heart attacks. he would have been fine though, the medical station was just down the hall and the initiative was careful for its employees healthcare, if nothing else. he switched views randomly, the screen flickering between rusted merry g-round, empty schoolhouses, and, a group of kids not far from an alpha zone?\n\nroger suddenly sat up, typing and switching, rousing the rest of the initiative. his coworker burst in through the door, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. \"im here whats the problem\" he said. roger switched one of the screens, uncovering the dreaded find he had found.\n\nthe view was a shaky camera surveying mossy hallways, a voice not amiss from a frat party with a tankard truck of beer was saying \"...so yeah guys, Chernobyl, shits spooky now. be sure to like that live-stream\". bill sat on the chair beside roger, still bleary, he never woke up so smoothly. he said \"wheres security?\". roger said \"still minutes away, he hit an opening in the patrol pattern by pure luck\".\n\non the screen, the live-streams narrator was ordering two other students to pry off the boards from a blocked door. rogers heart-rate spiked sevenfold. the narrator said \"aright bros, here we go\". roger pushed the button to cut off the stream, but by then a light had been turned on, a view frozen on dusty metal pieces of alien angles, scribed with ruins, glowing at fixed points. and then those pieces twitched.", "Joanne screamed. My head was pounding. We came far too close to this place. Stacy had a look of horror on her face, her eyes wide and twitching slightly in the eerie light. The being contorted, the space around them bending and twisting, with meters stretching further than before, and bends appearing in what were previously straight lines.\n\nJoe was cackling madly. It appeared he understood, or had come to understand, in the time we had spent in its presence. His eyes spread wide, ever open, never blinking. His dilated pupils ran over the room sharply, with what would be considered calm reverence, if not for his heavy breathing and the fact that his arms were covered in Bill's crimson blood.\n\nTime was odd there. Seconds became hours, hours became days, we had no idea how long we stood in silence. Before I knew it, Joanne was gone. I couldn't say where. I'd like to think she escaped. I'd like to think it didn't end the same for her as it did for the rest of us.\n\nThe being didn't just stand in front of us. It spoke to us. Persuaded us. It's voice rang into the very depths of your being. It could speak in perfect English, with an ever so slight Scandinavian accent. It would talk to you, like you were a child, like it knew all the secrets of the world, and would make everything all right. Smooth, calm, friendly, charismatic. All would be good if you just gave in and listened.\n\nBut that's what happened to Joe. He listened. And, yes, while he did seem happier, he never spoke a word again. Neither did we. We couldn't. We couldn't even move, held back by this power that could lay the world bare.\n\nSanity escaped us all that day. It ran away to the farthest depths of the world; it wanted no part in our lives any more. The seconds crept into eternity, as it spoke to me, tried to convince me. Stacy joined their side after what felt like a few hundred years. She and Joe looked wonderfully happy, like they had no cares in the world. But, knowing what happened to them, I wouldn't listen. And, as time passed, I felt my body deteriorate, my hair grow, my bones crumble as eternity after eternity ticked away. And, just when I thought I would finally give in, everything went black.", "\"We're preparing humanity for the worst,\" said the director. They didn't know his name, but they knew he was the director. Everyone around the facility seemed to refer to him only as the director. \n \n\"Why here? Why the story?\" asked Jason. He was second-year mathematics grad student from MIT. The others were still a bit shaken up after being apprehended by a patrol, but Jason no longer felt threatened. Instead, his curiosity, the same overwhelming drive that led him to convince his buddies to join him on this trip, was taking over. \n \n\"Because there was an accident,\" said the director, \"but not at the scale that we reported. You see, the visible part of Chernobyl was a reactor that supplied power to the neighboring region, but more importantly, it was being used to power the development of this facility. Unfortunately, the power being generated was not enough. Eventually, we had to upgrade. That's where we ran into trouble.\" \n \n\"So why have you brought us here?\" spoke up Richard. He was a postdoc in a physics lab and was probably the most antisocial in their group. The guy always carried a book with him to, in his words, avoid wasting time. Even at restaurants or at a bar. Jason noticed that Richard held tightly to a copy of King's latest novel, Under the Dome. \"Why not turn us away like you have undoubtedly done in the past?\" \n \n\"That goes hand in hand with the 'why here?' part,\" replied the director. \"We knew that a long-term power solution could not be found with a nuclear power plant, we needed something else. We chose this location because during the Cold War, the Russians noticed that you only needed to dig half a kilometer to be deep and hot enough to power geothermal reactors.\" \n \n\"And? That doesn't explain why we are here.\" \n \n\"There's no easy way of putting it, but here we go. The Russians at the time didn't know it, but we've discovered that the source of this heat isn't caused by the Earth.\" \n \nJason felt a chill go up his spine as his friends all tensed at the same time. \n \n\"It's caused by a specific kind of radioactive decay that is... alien in origin. Don't worry, there's nothing alive down there, not anymore. But this kind of radiation is fatal to about 95% of the population. At first, we wanted to discard this location. After all, what use is an underground bunker to save humanity if it kills most of its inhabitants.\" \n \n\"Why ain't we dead then?\" demanded Mitch. Mitch was the only arts major at MIT. Brilliant, but horrible at school. So the professors compromised by giving him a major that required no exams, on the condition that he sit in on high-level lectures on theoretical physics.\n \n\"After a few months we recognized a pattern. This kind of radiation is fatal to individuals who are, for the most part, of average or below average intelligence. There is actually a physical difference between our brains and the brains belonging to the rest of humanity.\" \n \n\"So you want to study our brains?\" asked Jason. \n \n\"Heavens no, we've learned everything there is to know about that. You are here because we want you to come work for us. Recruitment has proven difficult. We want you to study the alien power source and find out more about it. We are certain there are other ways of leveraging power, but haven't been able to crack the code so to speak.\" \n \n\"Suppose we do, what do we get out of it?\" Richard was now in haggle mode. \n \n\"Haven't you wondered about human origins? How it came to be that we've managed to become so much more than others in the animal kingdom? The remains,\" the director paused for a moment, \"at the genetic level are familiar to our own. Humans, especially those of us able to survive in this place, are most closely related to them. You will be unlocking our past and hopefully securing our future.\" \n \n\"That reminds me,\" said Jason, \"securing our future from what?\" \n \n\"They are coming.\" A glint in the director's eye betrayed his otherwise calm face. No one needed to ask, \"who.\" \n \n--\n \n[Part 2](http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/34icm5/wp_write_a_happy_story_about_a_hero_after_reading/cqv20vh?context=3)", "I and my two friends were on vacation to the Ukraine, and were kinda close to Chernobyl. We walked around and didn't feel any pain, but Steve's skin was turning dark slowly.\n\n Eventually we decided to enter the facility. There was construction of a giant half dome to cover it from radiation, it can't be that bad, can it?\n\nEntering the building, Steve's skin was almost completely black, so we told him to go back he must have some disease or something. We continue on and find the reactor room. We hear a whirring, and realize the reactor is still going and on. Sarah runs out, but radiation isn't enough to stop me. I go up and find the control centre, the controls are still lit up. I find one that opens the reactor, it was curious. Immediately after the 6 inch concrete lifts, my skin darkens, but I don't care, what I see I there is worth it. In my final moments of radiation poisoning, I think why and realize.\n\nThis. This is why kids love the taste of Cinnamon Toast Crunch." ]	5
	[WP] You're you. You're sitting at home watching the NFL draft and the phone starts ringing. You've just been drafted.	[ "First of all, I wasn't watching the NFL Draft. My husband was. \n\nFootball was never an interest of mine. As a short woman with an even shorter attention span, sports in general tended to bore me. I played soccer when I was younger only because my dad wanted to force me off the couch. \n\nSo obviously, reverting to my couch loving ways was easy when my husband begged me with his puppy-dog eyes to keep him company. His usual trio of troublemakers had all made excuses to be away this Sunday and beer drinking could not be done without friends, he claimed. Likewise, football could not be watched without alcohol. Flawless logic. I settled down next to him with a book in one hand and a Mike's Hard Lemonade in the other. \n\nThe next thirty minutes was filled with my husband either yipping for joy or cussing drunken slurs at the TV. Simple \"mmhmm's\" and \"you're totally right, hunny\" were enough of a response from me to appease him. At least, they were until he started laughing.\n\nI looked up from my book to see him pointing at the screen. \"What happened, Paul?\"\n\nHe grinned at me. \"Some guy has your name! Susan!\" He paused to take another humorous swig. \"He must have had a rough childhood, the poor bastard.\"\n\nGlancing to where he had been pointing, I realized that not only did the \"poor bastard\" share my first name, but my last as well. Susan Goodmight, the new kicker for the Cowboys. Paul's rival team. \n\nThe irony was not lost on me, so I giggled along with him and clinked our glasses together. \n\nThat's when I got the call. From Jimmy, the caller-ID read. One of the friends that had bailed on Paul earlier. \n\nHe was mostly incoherent. \"I didn't think- It was just a joke! It was so old that I thought... not even football! Like, how could they? You're a girl! And-\" Beeping cut his rambling off. Call incoming, this time unknown. I didn't pick up and instead let Jimmy continue talking, not that it helped me understand what he was trying to apologize for. \n\nThe beeping started again almost as soon as it had stopped. Same unknown caller. I looked to it and then to my husband, but a confused shrug was all he had to give me. \n\nI took a moment to wonder if I had forgotten that I ordered pizza, or something equally silly, before I finally hung up on Jimmy to answer the unknown.\n\n\"Hello? This is Susan.\" Always be polite, my mother taught me. \n\n\"Of course it is! Pleasure to meet you,\" a burly voice bellowed into my ear. \"I'm sure you've heard the news by now? You're the winner! Big changes are coming your way, missy. And mine too, of course. First woman in the NFL! Are you excited? You have to be. Big changes!\"\n\n\"I uh- is this a prank call?\" Was all I could think to say in response. There was no sense to what this man was saying! He hadn't even introduced himself!\n\nHe chuckled into the phone. \"Susan Goodmight, right?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Then no, not a prank. Your friends uh,\" The sound of rustling paper echoed for a moment. \"Jimmy, Andrew, and Levard sent in your soccer video for the contest. I've never seen a kick like that! You scored from all the way across the field! Right over their heads! With a little training, you'll be a legend! As a woman. The first woman!\"\n\nThen suddenly, it all made sense. Susan Goodmight, the new kicker for the Cowboys. Me. \n\nMy husband told me later, after I had awoken from my faint, that news reporters were camped out on our lawn. America wanted to meet me.\n\nI don't think they realized yet that I'm thirty-two years old, a little overweight, and haven't played soccer in over ten years.\n\nToo bad the Cowboy's didn't know about that when they made the contest legally binding. \n\n", "I don't really care much for the NFL Draft even though I'm a big football fan. But there's not much else on TV, so there I was, watching the prospect bio videos. Finally the picks begin. Round one is no surprise, all the future stars going to their respective teams. But midway through the second round I got a surprise. \n\nMy name isn't a common one. And by not common, I mean I'm the only one with my name. In the world. So when the Patriots announced that they were picking up a new quarterback who shared my name, you can imagine my confusion. \n\n\"I guess I'm not that unique.\" I laughed. \n\nThen my phone rang. I was so engrossed in the whole same-name debacle, that I let that one go to voicemail. And the next call. But when the phone rang again, I couldn't ignore it anymore. \n\n\"Yeah?\" I'm kind of testy when annoyed.\n\n\"Congratulations, Ryan. The New England franchise warmly welcomes you. We look forward to working with you for the upcoming 2015-2016 season.\"\n\n\"Is this some sort of joke? I don't even play football. Especially not on a professional level.\" I'm laughing now. \n\n\"Ryan, you posted that video on your YouTube account. You eloquently described why you should be a star quarterback in the NFL and threw some damn good passes. We're gonna take a chance on you.\"\n\nSuddenly the video began playing on TV. Flabbergasted, I watched it in silence. When it finished, my Facebook profile picture popped up with the title 'Wonder Kid'.\n\n\"That was a joke!\" Was all I could manage. \n\n\"Look. You said at the end of the video that you were submitting your name. Belichick saw it. He talked to Brady. Tom is at the top right now, but nothing is forever. We have the future of our team to consider, always. There's a $1.5 million offer on the table. I suggest you take it. We just sent you a plane ticket.\"\n\n\"You guys are high! I'm only 5'11'', 170 lbs! How can you see potential in me? Do you even know the first thing about football?!\"\n\n\"Son, we won the Superbowl last year. And don't take that tone with me, ever. You work for me now. Bill is going to be in touch with you tomorrow. Don't let us down.\"\n\nAnd he hung up. \n\nI was numb. I sat there in silence. My phone began buzzing with texts and calls, but I ignored it now. \n\n\"Me. A Patriot.\" I said dumbly to nobody. I crinkled my beer can and aimed for the trash. \n\nI missed as usual. This is going to be a disaster. \n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] Describe a regular guy having the worst day ever without any death.	[ "I'll just have a beer.\n\n\nThe lady at the bar complied and gave Richard a bottle of beer. He looked at the unfamiliar print on the bottle and shrugged. Every beer tastes the same so whatever. He took a sip and almost spilled what's in his mouth. Frankly, the beer didn't taste like any of the other beers Richard has tasted. This tasted nothing like beer and more like someone else's pee, not that he knew how pee tasted like. Even after everything that has happened that day, Richard still felt obliged to be polite enough to swallow down the pee-tasting beer. He felt like breaking down but he didn't want to break down in public but then, he felt like he had nowhere else to do it but here.\n\n\nThat same morning, Richard was running late for work. He had been scheduled for an interview for a position he's been eyeing for a few years now. It was really difficult to get a schedule and he felt he shouldn't be late for something he wanted and was difficult to acquire. He was supposed to be leaving at 7AM but he woke up half an hour later. He ran as fast as he could towards the bathroom and into the kitchen where he met his wife. Richard thought, Why didn't she wake me up when she knew what time I usually left? His wife did not look happy or did she look sad. She sat like she had just been waiting for him to wake up. She asked him to sit down and pushed a couple of papers, stapled together, to Richard's way. Divorce papers. Richard's wife explained how she hated the fact that she had an affair (or has at this point), she said she wasn't the cheating kind. She told him that she no longer felt comfortable tiptoeing around Richard just to be able to spend time with her new lover. She told him that she didn't care about him anymore. \n\nA horn honked from the driveway. He's here, Richard's wife said. She gave the papers one last nudge to Richard's direction, took her bag and left. Richard sat there, on a chair next to the kitchen counter, thinking to himself if he should run after her, talk her out of this divorce, that how new things are just in-the-meantime things. Richard looked at the kitchen window that was overlooking the driveway, the car had already gone. \n\n\nRichard still tried to save what was left of him and drove himself to work as fast as he could. Then he heard a police siren, he was caught speeding. Richard gave his driver's license to the cop. I'm sorry, officer, Richard had apologized when the cop told him he was speeding. Richard had hoped that he would be let off with a warning by mentioning that his wife was asking for a divorce. He didn't know what made him think it was a good idea but he said it anyway. You white people and your sob stories. You think that's gonna get you out of this? the cop laughed and gave him his speeding ticket. So much for that. \n\n\nRichard was extremely late to his interview. He was tired, he was really tired. This day could not get any worse, he thought as he approached the receptionist in the department. The receptionist looked at him from head to toe. Richard sighed, Wrong side of bed, I guess, he said. The receptionist looked like she could care less. She said that the panel was already interviewing someone else and he was too late to his interview that they cannot cater to him anymore. Richard wanted to scream at the receptionist. He was very frustrated. But he bit his tongue and moved on. \n\n\nAfter a long day at work, being reprimanded with the \"lack of motivation\" in his columns, he reached that sleezy bar with his pee-tasting beer that he was too polite to leave there with just one sip. Richard just decided to drink the entire thing as fast as he could. He went home and saw the papers still sitting on the kitchen counter. He just wanted this day to end, worst day ever. \n\nJust when he thought this day could not get any worse, Richard's wife woke him up at 12 midnight (when he had been sleeping for a couple of hours already) and told him to sleep on the couch because she can't take the thought of him sleeping beside her. ", "I woke up to the sound of shouting and the smell of something burning. I looked around and saw an orange red glow through the crack below my door, and I suddenly realized that there's a fire in my house.\n\nI was absolutely terrified, but not for myself. I sprang out of bed, swung the door open and dashed out of the room, past my burning kitchen, completely ignoring the scorching heat and the thick smoke. \n\nI ran straight into the second bedroom, and stopped in my tracks. I heard a whisper- \"thank god\" and took a moment to realize it came out of my own mouth. As I already knew there was nobody here, not since the accident two years ago. My fear has not materialized, my wooden drawers were unharmed.\n\nI suddenly realized I'm standing still instead of getting the hell out, so I reached for the drawer, opened it, grabbed the folder inside- my life work, the only thing I have left and ran as fast as I could towards my front door.\n\nI got out, suddenly realizing how hot it was inside, it was still dark outside and I saw the crowd that had gathered around my house looking at me. There was no more shouting, everyone just stared at me, then, suddenly, all at once, pointed at me and started laughing.\n\nI looked down, and realized I'm only in my boxers. I felt more humiliated than I ever did in my life, I wanted to die right there and then- then I woke up.\nI woke up, humiliation still flowing through me, to the sound of shouting and the smell of something burning. I looked at the crack under my door and saw an orange red glow and I immediately realized that there's a fire in my house.\n\nI sprang out of bed, swung the door open and dashed out of the room, past my burning kitchen.\nI ran straight into the second bedroom, reached for the drawer, opened it, grabbed the folder inside and ran as fast as I could towards my front door.\n\nI got out, suddenly realizing how hot it was inside, it was still dark outside and I saw the crowd that had gathered around my house looking at me. There was no more shouting, everyone just stared at me, then, suddenly, all at once, pointed at me and started laughing.\n\nI looked down, and realized, again, that I'm only in my boxers. I felt the humiliation once again, and then I woke up.\n\nI woke up, humiliation still flowing through me, to the sound of shouting and the smell of something burning.\nI knew I was dreaming, but the thick smoke that got all the way into my room this time was making me choke and the heat was nearly unbearable, so I decided to get outside.\n\nI picked up my shirt and pants from the floor and put them on, then put on my slippers.\n\nI ran through the kitchen outside, not out of fear, just because I was having a hard time breathing, and got outside. Walking out was different this time, the shouting didn't stop and 3 people ran up to me to check if I'm okay.\nSeeing me so calm, one of them asked \"Are you okay?\" to which I nonchalantly replied \"Yeah I'm just dreaming\".\n\nHe looked at me, eyes wide open and said \"No you're not!\" and suddenly I was terrified again, I pinched myself, smacked my head, and realized that I was truly awake.\n\nI managed to take one more look at my house and shout \"MY FOLDER!\" before my roof came crashing down." ]	2
	[WP]Now that it's all over, I wish he hadn't taken that photograph.	[ "\"Of course I have the photograph.\" Jesse threw it on the table. The windows were covered with thick newspaper blocking out the sun, making the picture too dark to see. \"I wish you never took it.\"\n\nJohn lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall. \"You're barely five feet, but you think you're hot shit, don't you?\" He snatched the photograph, putting it in his pocket. \"You'd never figure out what it was, without it... or how to kill it.\"\n\n\"Just destroy the picture.\" Jesse slammed his fist on the table. \"It's fucking dead anyway.\" He leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. \"No thanks to you.\"\n\nJohn turned his back to him and sighed, smoke funneling out of his mouth. He ran his fingers through his short brown hair. \"You just dont get it.\" He opened the front door, sunlight filling the room. \"What about the other one, in the picture.\" \n\n\"Bullshit!\" Jesse stood with force and knocked his chair on the floor. \n\nJohn shook his head. \"So quick to anger. No wonder, you didn't realize it. It's okay thought, it seems the clones, dont remember much.\"\n\n\"What?\" Jesse walked forwards his arm stiff at his side. A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead, his heart beat out of his chest. \"Where are you going? You cant just leave me.\"\n\nJohn took the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing out smoke. \"It absorbed the light. It cloned itself.\" He threw the cigarette to the ground, smashing it with his foot. \"I had to see it for myself. I'm sorry.\"\n\nJesse squinted. \"It's so bright out here.\"\n\nJohn pushed Jesse back. \"Of course it is, you never been out there before.\" He closed the door and leaned against it. \"It will be night soon, we can move then.\"\n\n\"Why not now?\" Jesse flipped over the table inside. \"Why am I a prisoner here.\"\n\nJohn shook his head. \"Because, bright light will clone more of you.\"", "He and I were best friends for the longest time. An aspiring photographer, he took several photos of us being happy together. We were friends until the very bitter end.\nHowever, as time went by, he became more and more of a megalomaniac, attempting to restrict me more and more. I truly hated being friends with him, though I still did care about him, so I struggled on underneath his thumb. Still, he became more and more controlling. It hurt, but I cared about him until that one April day when I ceased to put up with his abuse. Since then, bitter memories have become satisfying and sweet, knowing that I succeeded at least one or twice in hurting him like he hurt me. In turn, sweet memories became so bitter that I can hardly bear to look back into my mind, let alone the old album, which I have stored in poor conditions purposefully, hoping that it would yellow and tear quickly.\n\nNow that it's all over, I wish he hadn't taken those photographs." ]	2
	[WP] In the future, people can pay for injections that can stop the aging process. Due to this newly found longevity, prisoners who have committed grave acts of crime are also being given injections, to serve their full sentences which can last for hundreds of years	[ "456 years. That was my sentence. No chance of parole. Back then, before the shots, it was a laughable sentence. Who lives 456 years? But now? Well, now, I have something too look for. I get out in 15 years, I finally get to escape this cement hellhole. When you've lived for over 400 years, 15 feels like a months time. \n\n\nI've done questionable things to survive. Did Old Jeremiah really need to get stabbed in the back of the head? Not necessarily, but how else was I supposed to show everyone I'm not a pushover. I mean, he honestly deserved it. It's not my fault he stole my toothbrush. I liked that toothbrush. I remember, the warm blood spilling over my pale, white hands after I quickly jabbed him in the back of his neck with a sharpened piece of wood. I dropped the shiv and ran away, before I could be seen. I was never charged, but everyone knew it was me. The guards could care less in all honesty, Old Jerry wasn't the most well liked fella. The rush I got though. Oh god, that lasted me for weeks. I hadn't felt that good since I was first arrested. \n\nAgain, the first time it wasn't my fault. She cheated on me, she deserved it? When the cold steel entered that dirty, lying, whore's neck, I swear I smiled. But that's irrelevant. All that matters is that I'm here now, and getting out soon. Only 15 years. 15 years.\n\nI walked over to the ledge, grabbing the cold metal railing with my sweaty palms. I eyed the guards across the hall, and the other inmates in their cells, doing nothing. I thought back to the times I've had here, and all the people I've met. All the guys that have come and gone. Some I've liked, some I've hated. I slowly looked over the railing, and a thought entered my mind. I climbed over the railing, and noticed one of the short guards dressed in navy talking into his walkie-talkie. I winked at him, before staring back at the ground. A shallow smile crept across my face.\n\nI jumped.", "I'm sure you, too, would find it hard having to spend 235 years in prison for a crime you did not commit. They said I was the one who burnt the house; they said I was the one who made the little ones scream; they said the evidence was unequivocal; they said the evidence matched my fingerprints on the oil canister, and on the lit out match, as if that level of arson could leave any trace of DNA. No, I did not kill all those people, but what power do I have over a judge who spends twenty minutes deciding the rest of my life? No matter, I thought to myself, I'd be dead before those 235 years. Sure I'd be incarcerated in a cell filled with other delinquents and psychopaths, but I could not fathom spending 235 years in the same cell, with such cruel humans, and such hatred. \n\nThat was 150 years ago. 150 years ago I entered this cell. 150 years ago the mould above my head was but an inch, but now it's encompassed the room. I walk on the same green substance I would stare at every night before falling asleep in that rotten piece of shit you call a bed. Hell, I've slept on cardboard that has been arguably softer. They say this mould shit makes you go mad if you breathe too much of it; at least that's what they told me. Fuck it, I probably lost my mind a long time ago. I bet you wanna know about my past? How I got here? Who I was before I entered this shithole I've called home for so long. Well, I'd be more than happy, too, except that I can't remember who I am, where I'm from, or even what I am. Hell, the last time i saw a person of the other sex was sixty years ago, it was the last thought I had before going to bed; now I can't even remember what they look like. \n\nThe earliest thing I can recall was the day my face was plunged into a crapper filled with, you guessed it, shit. That fat fuck Mike tried shoving it down my throat, but I held my breath as long as I could until I cracked his arm. That didn't help the situation. He and his 'goons' raped me that night. I'll never forget it. I'll never forget that moment because that was the night I tied a noose around my neck and hung myself. I bet you're wondering \"oh, but how are you alive right now?\" Well, you know that shit they inject you with? Yeah, it brings you back to life as if nothing happened. Oh, you thought it only stopped ageing? Hah! If that were the case I'd guarantee this prison would be just one massive coffin. No, it brings you back to life, because that is the ultimate form of punishment; that is hell, the continuous reminder of why you're stuck in a jail cell having to face the same harsh reality as everyone else, except I'm not guilty. \n\nEveryone else here admits that they are guilty, it's part of the psychological effects from the drugs; your memories fade but all you can remember is a repetition of the crime. That's why I know I'm not guilty, because i never lived the crime. That's why my only memories are of my time in jail. Oh, i've spoken to the psychiatrist and the warden, but they always say the same thing - the evidence is irrefutable. Hell, I am the evidence that disproves the evidence! No matter, in another 85 years the world will regret my incarceration, the system will breed a criminal. It's no wonder crime is at a record high, all the fucking criminals are still alive running wild, but what do the fat cats give a shit when they're sitting on a wad of cash. Fuck, what I'd do to smell money again. it's okay, you and I will achieve this together, right buddy. We only have each other now. Isn't that right, buddy? \n\n\"Come on Prisoner 14958, it's time for your medication.\"\n\nYeah, that's right. Just you and me, buddy... Just you.. And me..", "\"Optional?\"\n\n\"Well, yes. To force it upon you would be cruel and unusual punishment.\" The Warden pushed her glasses up her nose. \"Some even consider longevity to be a fate worse than death. Do you, Miss Reed?\"\n\nI shrugged. \"Depends where I spend it. Some can't stand the idea of fifty more years in the rusted tin box.\"\n\n\"But you can?\" The Warden asked.\n\n\"No. Not me either.\" My nose wrinkled. \"I hate these walls, the plastic food, your employees cavalier cruelty and every sunrise and sunset I've counted.\" My fists tighten. \"If \n\n\"So you'll be refusing the dose then?\" The Warden asked, already reaching for her pen.\n\n\"Absolutely not.\"\n\nThe Warden froze. \"Oh?\"\n\n\"Warden, what you have brought me is a double edged sword. Before today, I could rest easy knowing I would die in here, with not a thought given to legitimate freedom.\" A smile ghosted over my lips. \"I could sit here and play pretend. There's the dock where I stole my first kiss. The ice-cream man who slipped me a drumstick every Sunday for just a poem.\" \n\nMy grin stretched in earnest, my mind dipping into the warm waters of the past. \"I can see her now, in the cove only the smitten could find. She's stretched out on the sand, a lolli between her lips and a fantasy in her fingers.\"\n\nMy eyes opened, meeting the Warden's. My mouth twisted in anger. \"And now you're telling me that I can go back. I can feel that sand in my palm, that salty froth in my nose.\" My voice caught. \"I can apologize for leaving. All I have to do is serve my full sentence.\"\n\n\"Yes.\" The Warden replied matter-of-fact.\n\n\"That's 200 years.\" I deadpanned.\n\n\"No, it's 173.\"\n\n\"It doesn't matter what I've already served, Warden. I'm still gonna be in this fucking tin box for 200 years.\" I snarled. \"And that's if you fine officers let me loose when I'm done.\"\n\n\"We will.\"\n\n\"Like hell!\" I stood, the cuffs biting my wrists. \"I'll get wheeled into court, and people who don't know me will look at my case and tell me to sit tight for another century!\"\n\n\"Well. . .\" The Warden shuffled my papers. \"You did choke one of your students to death with their own. . .\" The Warden squinted. \"Gastrocnemius? Is that how you pronounce that?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" I replied, sitting back in the metal chair. \"That's why I'm only slightly hesitant.\"\n\n\"Well, I can imagine. Your case is extraordinary.\" The Warden took off her glasses, sighing. \"But you have also been incredibly well behaved within these walls. And the crime wasn't pre-meditated, nor were the victims entirely without fault. Hell, I'm not sure I could've gone as long as you did without killing a few of them myself.\" The Warden chuckled. \"I'm positive you could resume a normal life outside.\"\n\n\"I just couldn't go back to teaching.\"\n\n\"Probably not.\" The Warden confirmed. \"In fact, you'll probably be restrained from going near any schools for the remainder of your life outside.\"\n\nI nodded. \"Will you be here?\"\n\nThe Warden smiled. \"Unless I'm taken by God, I will be here.\"\n\n\"Give me the shot.\"", "They call me Lazarus, and they laugh at me. \n\nI never touched that woman, but I didn't fight the charges. It was a heinous crime, depraved, so much so that they put me in solitary confinement, and sentenced me to 642 years. I didn't care, I wanted the drug. \n\nThe drug. The fountain of youth. Only trillionaires could afford it, back in the day. Shit, I was labourer with a bad back. So I rolled over on the charges, plead guilty, took the beatings from the cops, the hate from the people. I was the first on the perpetual incarceration list, I get an injection every 2 years. I was 58 when I was arrested.\n\nI bulked up. Exercise and thinking is all I had, all this time. I studied. Got 72 MA's 41 Ph.D.'s, and 33 black belts. I made professor in economics, physics, math. And I wrote. Treatises, journals I published, exercise manuals, and I got paid. I bought a factory, invested the rest. Time has been sweet. \n\nI built nanobots, in my factory, and made them build the stuff I really wanted. Nanoskin to make me invulnerable, defense systems under my fingernails, anti- gravity inserts under my toenails. \n\nI bought the giant pharma that makes the drug 200 years ago, and choked off the supply to the wealthy. I'm the oldest, richest man alive.\n \nThey call me Lazarus, and they laugh at me. I get out in two weeks." ]	4
Profound final words always hit me deep.	[WP] You are the sole survivor of a deep space exploration mission after your ship was hit by an asteroid. You have time to send one final recorded transmission to Earth before your oxygen runs out.	[ "\"Run! Our mission has failed spectacularly. After encountering the hostile aliens, we got hit by an asteroid while trying to escape them. All of the crew is dead. We have also inadvertently have disclosed the Earth location. So take all the available spaceships and run from the Solar system! Aliens are coming.\"", "\"I never thought I'd die here. No one expects an accident like this. They happen, of course. But it's always other people, other places. You never dream it'll be you. So. I'm going to die. Thousands of kilometers from earth. You can just see it, if you look hard enough. A glinting light that looks slightly bluer than the stars. A tiny twinkle containing the lives of billions of people. That small, almost invisible spark containing everyone I know and love. Mum. Dad. Erin. Jack. I love you so, so much. And I know I promised I'd be back by your tenth birthday, Jack, but I think you'll have to wait a bit longer to see me again. You all know I hate goodbyes. But I'm sorry I'll never come back. Sign out.\"" ]	2
	[WP] The interesting relationship between a god and his highest priest.	[ "So this is their temple. Not bad. Not bad at al actually.\nVakura could not see the structure, but he could feel the soundwaves bouncing off the walls and its colossal shape through the footsteps of the peasants who walked around it.\n\nIt was a 3000 foot tall spire, cradled with a single slivering tail and a statue off the Gods with its arms spread open, holding their hands open to all 4 corners of the world. It was also covered in runes, texts of small runes making up larger runes that made out. The last Prophet before him raised this temple as a sancuary of the faithful. \"So that they may have a place where they can pray in peace\". Her whole people followed her blindly, even more then he was, and still adore her. He could tell anyone exactly how she looked because she had a statue on every corner of the streets and on every top of every mountain in the range.\n\nNo one knew who he was, not yet. He came here as a pilgrim of sorts. He has no need rites or ceremonies to induce him. He knows who he is, and if he has to tear every statue of their holy hero he can find to prove it to these thickheaded idiots, so be it. He didn't come here to be adored. He didn't come here to threaten, or to unleash the power the Gods had give him. He came here for answers. Answers no mortal could give him.\n\nA somewhat older gentleman approached him. His step was a little weak and he smelled of lavender and tulips. The last Prophet's favorite flowers. I wonder what she thinks of all her peace loving people.\n\n\"Hello, my son. You look like you need some guidance\". His voice sounded warm and gentle, a little worn perhaps. He has been in this position a lot, and is probably the kind of nagging priest that won't stop talking. Like, ever.\n\n\"I don't need guidance. I need answers\", Vakura said as he started to walk past the old man.\n\n\"Come pray with me my son, the Gods will give you all the answers you need\"., the old man said as he held out something that clanked and chimed. Fancy praying stuff to hold. Vakura didn't even bother to remember what thye were called.\n\n\"I didn't come to pray. Leave me be\".\n\n\"The Gods won't answer your prayers if you do not respect their ways, my son. Only the ones they consider worthy are the ones they will listen to, and they will deem you unworthy if you refuse to give them the respect they deserve\".\n\nRespect. Vakura quivered with rage. Respect. He dug his nails into the palm of his hand and grinded his teeth as he turned back to the priest and walked up to him. He got right into his face as he took off the hood and showed the priest the scars that blinded him. That humiliated him. Broke him into pieces that he had to salvage back to what he was today.\n\n\"Respect ? Does this look they respect me ? Hmm ?\".\n\nThe priest was shocked to say the least, as he stepped back. He stammered a little as he took a step back.\n\n\"They condemned me the second I was born. To a mother that did not love me and father that was never there. To be sold into slavery in which I was starved, beaten, raped, abused and neglected for most of my childhood. And the one thing, the one bright light in my life at that point maimed me, simply because she could. So tell me, priest, why should I kneel down\", he said as he snatched the things out of the priest's hands, \"hold these and ask them to please, please tell me why they didn't just kill me ?\".\n\nPeople around him were staring, but he didn't care. If this priest and hisknowledgable goodness had the stones to talk to him about respect like this, then he was going to get his ass handed to him.\n\n\"The Gods must have had a reason for everything they did. Besides, you should be glad that you are alive. You live now so that one day, you....may...\".\n\nVakura had started to melt the priest's trinkets with his power. It started glowing and deforming, dripping from his hand onto the floor where they. The priest's heart started beating rapidly, and people around him were in awe. They knew who he was now.\n\n\"You... you are...\", the priest said as he trembled with fear.\n\n\"I am. You must wonder why all that happened to me as well, don't you ? Why would they scar their own son like this ?\".\n\nVakura tossed the trinkets to the floor.\n\n\"You're going to bring me to the altar. And I won't pray for them to answer. I will demand them to answer. The world will know that a Prophet walks the earth once more\".", "\"My Goddess Most Beautiful, Queen of Sea Foam, Stirrer of Passions and Divine Matchmaker, I long to feel your touch on my body and soul. Please, I pray you, bring me love.\"\n\nIn the middle of the temple, Aphrodite materialized before the high priest, a shining and effervescent light of unfathomable beauty. Her eyes glowed like radiant emeralds. Her long red curls were as vibrant as a summer sunset. Her curves were blinding and her feminine figure was the original model from which other women were poorly copied. Beside her, all mortal women looked like little girls who dreamt of someday growing up to be her. \n\nBorus, Aphrodite's high priest, had to look down to maintain his composure. Gazing at the goddess of transcendent sex for too long would cause a human to meet a grave fate. Some men who dare to admire her for more than 5 seconds are compelled to completely submit to her will and after a lifetime of servitude they die of a fatal case of blue balls. \nWeaker men would gaze upon her and lose touch with reality. These men masturbate uncontrollably at the sight of Aphrodite and upon orgasm, their minds would be transported into another spiritual dimension where all was a reflection of her. These men choose blissful insanity. They waste their whole lives yanking it, lost in a dream world, while the rest of the villagers throw rocks at him or run away in utter terror and disgust.\n\n\"Sure, Borus, I can do that for you. You've alway been my most devoted priest and I really appreciate all of your hard work! There is an absolutely gorgeous woman living in your village right now that you have yet to meet and I really think you two would hit it off. Her name is Agape. She's a dancer, has long black hair, she likes art, and she is very open to sexual experimentation.\"\n\n\"Well, my Goddess of Mind Blowing Orgasms, She Who Stiffens The Limpest of Cocks, Agape sounds like an excellent suggestion, but I'm not sure she's the right woman for me.\"\n\n\"Really? Who would you like then? I can set you up with just about anybody. Name her and she will be yours.” Aphrodite thought for a moment. “… Or if it is man you desire, I can arrange gay love affairs too, you know. Don’t be shy, we are all adults here.”\n\n“Venus, Deity of the Roundest and Perkiest of Bosoms, Celestial Being with the Tightest and Wettest of –“\n\n“Oh my God, Borus! Just spit it out!”\n\n“I desire you. I want to spend the rest of my days worshipping you AND loving you. I want to be the one with whom you share your thoughts and feelings. And I would like to make love with you all day and all night until my rod shrivels and dies of exhaustion. I want you to ride me until my hip bones disintegrate under hot friction of your wide, wide hips. I want to ram my rod into every one of your –“\n\n“Shut up! Let me think.” She calculated for a moment while Borus stared at the floor.\n\n“Yes, you are a kind, worthy man and I will take you as my lover. But I have two conditions. You must gouge your own eyeballs out. If you gaze upon me for more than a moment you will either lose your capacity for free will or you will turn into a crazy pervert. So you must blind yourself before we share in divine coital bliss.”\n\nBorus sprinted to the nearest window, slammed his fist through it, picked up a shard of glass with his bloody fist, and stabbed his eye with it in a frenzy.\n“Arghh!!” \nHe paused for a moment, panting, and then stabbed himself in his other eye.\n“Nnngh!”\nHe ran back to her, this time looking her right in the face, calling up her orgasmic image in his mind’s eye.\n“I’m ready. Let us make love.” Blood poured down from his eyes like faucets.\n\nAphrodite was taken aback by his enthusiasm.\n\n“Er… Okay, well I still have one more condition. Do you still think you can handle that?” \n\nBorus braced himself and nodded. What other organs would he have to lose?\n\n“Before I allow you to conquer my womb with your seed, I need you to eat me out.”\n\n“Uh, what? Yes… Yes, I can ABSOLUTELY do that for you. No problem.”\n\n“Okay, good. Because some men take issue with that sort of thing so I need to be clear about that right out of the gate. I’m gonna need you to do that for me about 10 times daily.”\n\n“Yes! Yes, I would love that.”\n\n“Okay, and I’m just going to let you know right now: It tastes like strawberry shortcake. I know some people prefer chocolate cake or carrot cake or something like that.”\n\n“No… No, I think that’s fine. I like shortcake.” Borus could not believe his good luck today.\n \n“Great! Now get over here and ram your goddess.”\n\n\nBorus rammed his goddess for many centuries until his cock finally shriveled and his pelvic bone was ground into dust. He kept his word and ate her out with gusto 10 times a day, every day of his life. Aphrodite always remembers Borus fondly as her most cherished husband, but she takes new lovers now. \n\nA word to the wise: If you ever meet an enchanting woman and would like to make love to her, Aphrodite favors men that are honest, respectful, and kind. Most importantly, she shows special preference to those who eat pussy." ]	2
	[WP] It's the year 2025.	[ "Back in 2015, one horrible question consumed my waking thoughts. Everyone seemed to pose it to me, even when I was not asking it of myself.\n\n\"Where do you see yourself in 5-10 years?\" \n\nAny conjecture about where you will be in 5-10 years is completely futile. Everyone knows that, from astrologers to the most rational control-freak. But that didn't stop everyone in my life from asking. \nMy frail grandmother wanted to know if she'd live to have great grand children. My type-A father was desperate to hear promises that I'd go back to school for a practical career like bioinformatics. \n\nProspective employers prompted me with this damned question, mostly as a talking point so they could tune out (and fantasize about the sexy snap their assistant had texted) while I spouted some fluff about how my goals aligned with their company's growth. Like a lazy lion, the interviewer would keep an ear pricked and an eye half open, listening for cues that I was eager to stay at their company longer than the last girl. No one in San Francisco stays at a company longer than 2 years if they've got half a brain. And, just like my grandma, each hiring manager was alert to any hint of a maternal instinct. Unlike my grandma, HR was hoping that I was not planning to pop out a baby during my natural childbearing years, that I'd instead opt to put my eggs on ice like every other career woman. It was often part of the benefit package instead of stock options: put your eggs on ice. I imagined my eggs sitting in the break room fridge, my name scrawled on them in sharpie, waiting patiently next to some yogurts and cold pad thai.\n\nSo it's the year 2025. It's been 10 years since they started asking me that question. I've never stopped trying to answer it. I even bought the \"What Color is Your Parachute?\" 2025 edition of the e-book. It's still a best seller even though that shit came out in the 1970's. Big surprise. I'm sure there will be a 2065 edition too. \n\nA few years ago, I met a xenobiologist, 10 years my junior, when he randomly volunteered for the organization I created when I was unemployed. We explore the world together as he tells me about lifeforms on other planets, and we rip off each others' clothes at any opportunity. I didn't put my eggs on ice or work for any of those companies that asked me to. My grandparents passed away but they left this world seeing me happy. My father? He was never going to be happy. \n\nI don't think I'll ever determine the color of my parachute, and if I do, start digging my grave, because I'll be ready to tell you the color of my coffin.", "The year is 2025.\n\nEverything runs on autopilot.\n\nTransport operates all hours of the day, a whirring of hovercrafts weaving between towering spires of steel above your head. Passengers or no, they run even in the deepest hours of the night — along to some invisible schedule tallied by an artificial mind. The epitome of technological efficiency.\n\nDialling a hotline signals dread: a maze of automated voices and numbers to be punched on command, until you navigate to the real human voice at the end. “You have selected 5: other. Please wait as we direct you to one of our dedicated intelligent service androids.” The call switches seamlessly to the crisp, clear tone of a robotic support personnel. Smarter, better programmed, and it understands. But somehow you miss the static-fraught nuances of a human voice.\n\nYour life continues: powered, aided, and substituted by artificial intelligence — an existence so entwined that the state-owned newspapers crow about it daily. \nHundreds of people—the lucky ones, they say—are eventually corralled onto spaceships that are perpetually pilotless, stocked with just enough supplies for the journey destined to other worlds, other possibilities. The pioneer batch.\nEverything moves like clockwork, the creativity-led jobs serving as oil between the cogs of innovation. Anything else is redundant.\n\nIn the latest press conference, amidst beaming faces, a reporter entertains the thought of the inevitable. “If things do not go as planned, what will become of them?”\n\nThe president of the space association blanches slightly—not that anyone notices above the euphoria—before recovering. “The opportunity to set foot on other planets, to travel through space, is indeed a fortunate one.” He says nothing more.\n\nThings unfurl faster than the Corporation anticipates. People question. The human mind becomes a threat.\n\nThe next day, splashed in large, inky letters in the newspapers: “Inter-worldwide programme begins for new, revolutionary brain microchip implants.”\n" ]	2
	[WP] Every time you fall asleep, you randomly change bodies with someone physically or emotionally close to you.	[ "I lived in this cabin for several months now.\n\nI'm not sure where I am or how I got here.\n\nAll I know that is it's nice in here. I can listen to the birds chirping, I can taste the fresh water coming straight out of the river, and The amount of freedom I have here is exhilarating. I can do whatever I please, and no one can stop me from doing it. Sometimes, I would just sing as loudly as I can in the woods while gathering berries and not a person would be around to judge how horrible it is.\n\nI never really had a problem with being lonely, I seemed to have gotten used to it, and if the notes were any indication, I shouldn't even be around people.\n\nThe notes.\n\nWhen I first woke up in the cabin, I didn't remember anything, trying to recall anything from the past conjured up blank memories and proved to be task of sisyphusian proportions. I wandered around the house, checking every room and opening every drawer and closet. I noticed that the closets contained clothes for both men and women, and they were all different sizes. I saw a brown board in one room; It was full of yellow post it notes, some of them had mold growing on them, old ones; while some of the notes were as yellow as the morning sun, new ones. Even though they differed in age, they still gave out the same general message.\n\nSpeaking of messages, and the people who gave them, I often wondered where I could find other people. I frequently wondered if other people thinked the same way as I did. Do people all look the same? or do some look different? These were all questions that always filtered into my mind, and I could never find an answer for them since I never actually met another person aside from myself. I wondered if other people even EXISTED. I travelled so far and explored so many parts of the wood, but I never seem to encounter other people. The notes on the other hand, assured me that other people did indeed exist, but I'm starting to think the notes had information that lied.\n\nInformation. \n\nThe notes had lots of information on them, they all had the same message. There were 73 of them, I counted them many times; I counted them over and over and over again. Life in here was boring; There was nothing to do in the woods aside from gather food and watch fires,.\n\nDo not go exploring, No one lives in the woods. If you do meet people, run away from them, otherwise you will switch bodies with them and you will ruin another life. You do not like ruining lives. If you DO switch bodies, there is a bottle of pills in the drawer underneath this cabinet. ONLY take them incase you switched bodies.\nThose pills will make you forget the people, this is important if you want to stop the body switching.\n\nI broke rule #1 in those notes several times already, and so far, it seemed to be correct. No one lives in the woods.\n\nThen suddenly, a light bulb that took too long to light up appeared above my head.\n\nNo one lives in the woods, but maybe people lived OUTSIDE the woods!\n\nI started to pack my things and began my journey, I bet great things will be waiting for me.\n\n \n", "It's finally in the news. I'm amazed, it took a whole month. First it was some dude on reddit, but there's enought trolls already. Then people all over the net were reporting it, even some trustworthy newspapers. But it took a whole month for it to be officially acknowledged: People are swapping bodies.\n\nThe way it works? If someone's asleep at the same time someone close to them is, they both will swap bodies. Usually the next night they fall asleep thinking of each other so they return to normal. It's not even that weird anymore, sleep pills are being handed, scientist have done tests on it... There's even activism by trans people now that it's easy to see wich gender you're more confortable with.\n\n There's only one thing I don't like about it. It's been a month, and I have yet to swap bodies with anybody. I'm an orphan so at first I thought it was normal, but really, nobody? Not the people from work, not my \"friends\", nobody?\n\nIt's been eating me up. I don't get sleep at night (at least it's easy to get sleep pills), i've grown more and more depressed. 7 thousand million people in the planet, half sleeping at the same time as me, give or take.\n\nYet nobody swaps. Nobody cares. Nobody notices. Nobody remembers. I'm nobody. I'm alone amidst the people. I'm a grain of sand in the desert. A drop of water in the ocean. I'm part of everybody, yet I'm alone. \n\nIt's taken a whole month, but that doesn't matter. Nobody cared, so nobody will notice. Someone will find this and someone will read it. But they won't really care. Nobody will remember, but I was here. I lived. I existed. I cared.\n" ]	2
	[WP] "The bidding starts at $250,000..."	[ "\"The bidding starts at $250,000 \"\n\nReally? $250,000? I'd like to think I was worth more than that! I wanted to tell these blood sucking aliens to take the money and shove it up there a*. But I didn't, couldn't. If I did then they would just cut my tongue out and feed it to the dogs. \n\nI can't believe I was caught. 10 years of strategically running from these monsters and for what? I don't know but it sure as hell was better than going through what I was right at this moment. \n\nThey called themselves the Naditivys or natives. They looked human, but we're anything but. They didn't eat food like normal people, they sucked friggin blood. They came to earth right after WW3. As if the world didn't just go through chaos. I guess that was there plan all along. Take over while we were still weak, less resistance. Well it worked. They landed in Russia made there way through China, India, crossing over threw Egypt and in 3 months took all of Europe, Asia, and Africa. And in another 2 months made there way and conquered all of North America. There was no where to hide. \n\nI was an 11 year old girl when they came. Only had my mother and older brother before they showed up. My mom died the day they reached our home in Cambridge, ON. They sucked her dry. She died protecting us. Me and my brother...\n\n\"Sold for $852,000 to the native in the green suit!\"\n\nI was pulled back from the depths of my mind back into the crappy reality that I now live in. I accepted my situation because there was nothing I could do, I would never regret my decision that got me caught. I looked to the stands for the man who \"bought\" me. He was handsome, with dark hair and eyes like the twilight sky. He looked harmless and I knew that he was anything but. They were all vicious and evil and used us like blood bags. \n\nHe walked up to me to claim his winnings. He clamped the chains around my wrist and ankles and started pulling along like a was some kind of dog. I wanted to pull back, do something to prevent this from happening but I was helpless. There was nothing I could do and I hated it. I was weak and hungry from the week I spent in their dungeons waiting for the monthly auctions. He dragged me along until we were in front of his big shiny black SUV. \n\nI didn't know where we were headed and I wasn't sure I want to know. \n\nI knew this was the end of Alex Maine. Eventually everything came to an end, including my freedom.\n\nBefore I could react, I felt a sharp pain in the back of my skull and then everything went black.\n\nTo Be Continued...", "It was sheet metal, laid up against the window of a small concrete room. Inside were three people, two women and a little boy. All of whom were clothed in a paper hospital gown and a pair of flip-flops that made nervous sounds on the floor. One of the women, identifiable by her shoulder-length brown hair and sad eyes, knocked on the metal of the door. \"So. This is the last of being a person we'll see.\" She spoke with a slight lisp and had a twitch about her. Her gown stuck to her neck, and the ends of her hair had sucked up enough sweat to turn the tendrils curly. The other woman, older, with a graying braid down her back, consoled the little boy who was crying in the corner. \n\nThe three of them had been shoved into the cell after been caught with petty thievery - the old woman had stolen salt from a grocers, the younger woman had taken copper wiring from a lamp post, and the boy had taken a bouncy ball from another child. No room for thievery, not in this nation. Each of them had been given a name that wasn't theirs, plastered onto their smock in big, black writing. \"Eileen #289\"; \"James #52\"; \"Margot #7144\".\n\nFrom the confined cell, she could hear a crowd muttering outside and someone began to type a microphone. The crowd settled down, and a man with a bellowing voice began to ramble through the typical pre-Auction speech. \"This is the Fresh Meat Market Auction Number 6,490. Today we have three for sale for you a lovely selection of class-C thieves, all of whom would pair well with a bottle of white wine. Butchering services come free of charge, but in case any of you forgot your ice cooler...\" There was a laugh from the audience. \"They cost a couple hundred dollars a pop. They're nothing special - don't tenderize the way them new coolers do, but they're a goodie. Don't want to mess with perfection, right?\" The auctioneer, a stout man in his late forties, tapped the glass and the metal shutter flew up, revealing the three petty thieves.\n\n\"First up, we have Eileen #289, Eileen, come on up to the glass.\" The old woman approached the window cautiously. \"Eileen here was born sixty-eight years ago, is of Japanese, Native Hawaiian, Irish and, oh, some Norwegian and Albanian ancestry. A unique blend, if you ask me. She has not tested positive for drugs, has type AB blood and, ooh, this is real interesting, enjoys eating Thai food. And we all know* that Thai food makes for a delicious cut of meat. Don't let her age fool you - she still has plenty of muscle tone around, and who would turn down an aged liver? Not me. The Medical Examiner says the best cut of meat on her would be her thighs, and that her heart may be especially meaty. #289 may be one of our most unique Eileens yet, and have been told that she would best be served on sandwiches, on salads or in a nice stir fry. A nice, affordable meat. The bidding starts at $250,000.\"", " As the bidding started at 250,000\n The room around me\n Began to louden\n \"This is is absurd!\"\n \"This is a bargain!\"\n Everyone waited for one single offer\n For some rich gentleman to use his great coffer\n But no one had spoken\n Not one single whisper\n We expected the bidding to be far swifter\n \"Ladies and gentleman, the offer still stands!\"\n \"Will no one takes this great prize\n Out of my hands?\"\n \"No one here realizes\n That this is a steal\"\n \"Even I find it hard to believe\n That this thing is real\"\n A man in the front stood up and screamed\n That what's in the box\n Was not what it seemed\n \"We don't even know how it should work\"\n The man in the front\n Screamed at the clerk\n \"Trust me, it's amazing\n And worth the appraising\n Nothing works better\n For doughnut glazing\"\n The crowd was perplexed\n At this revelation\n They were not impressed\n By this pastry sensation\n But the baker in the corner was completely enthralled\n He was taken aback\n That the price was so small\n He raised his paddle with great emotion\n And signed away\n His sizable fortune\n\n\n\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] You're in hospital and a stranger comes into your room and strikes up a conversation. As you are talking you realize the stranger is actually death himself.	[ "I grew to like the hospital at night, at least like it as much as I could. At night the halls were quiet, nurses and doctors talked in hushed voices as to not wake the patients and the slow beeping of my heart monitor was like a metronome trying to lull me off to sleep. I hadn't slept much recently. Not since the accident, although accident might not be the right word. Accident implies that it was something that could have been prevented. Brain aneurysms are hard to prevent.\n\n The doctor in the ER told me I was lucky the aneurysm didn't kill me, but goddamn was it trying. I didn't realize I had had an aneurysm when it happened. It was a flash of white hot pain and then a dull but pounding headache that never seemed to completely go away, no matter how much morphine the nurses gave me. So I haven't slept much recently. \n\nThe other reason I liked the hospital at night was that no one could come to visit me. Immediate family was allowed in the ICU at night but after two weeks they had settled down enough to let me be. It was better this way, at least it was for me. I didn't have to see my family suffer over my suffering. I was always more of a suffer in silence type of girl anyway.\n\n\"Hello Carmen.\" A voice came from the doorway. An man, young and well built, wearing white scrubs was shutting the sliding glass door of my room behind him. \n\n\"How are you feeling today?\"\n\n\"A bit better I suppose.\" I told him, the pain in my head was finally starting to subside. He smiled at me, a soft smile that made me feel safer than I had in the last two weeks. \"Are you one of the nurses?\"\n\n\"I'm here to go with you.\" \n\n\"Are they finally moving me from the ICU? Does that mean I get to go home soon?\"\n\nThe man crossed the room and sat on the edge of my bed, taking my hand in both of his and rubbing smooth circles into my palm with his thumbs. \"Yes you're leaving the ICU tonight. You don't have to stay here anymore.\"\n\nHe spoke very professionally and rehearsed, like he had this conversation many times before. It didn't feel right. \"Where am I going?\"\n\n\"A few places. Your journey here is over but you're not completely through.\" He brushed the hair out of my face with his thumb. The pain was gone completely. It was all very clear now. \"I'm sorry it ended so soon.\"\n\nMy lower lip began to quiver. My voice was only a whisper, \"But what about my family? What will they do without me?\"\n\n\"They will miss you. But their time will come one day too and they'll understand. And when their time comes they will be missed just as you were.\"\n\n\"And won't I miss them?\"\n\n\"Yes, of course.\" Death spoke to me the way a father does to a sleepy child. \"But it won't feel the same as it does in this world. It won't be as bad.\"\n\nI took a deep breath, and then another. Part of me wanted to yell, to shout out that you aren't supposed to die at twenty-three, to fight in some way. The other part of me knew that there was nothing I could do, it was to late, and that it was better to go in peace, guided by a friend. And in this comforting act Death had become my friend.\n\nThere was no hospital outside of the glass wall of my room anymore. There wasn't nothing either, just something I couldn't see yet, a bigger picture that needed me to complete. \n\nDeath took my hand once more, guiding me out of bed and to the door. With a gentle squeeze I signal that I am ready. He slides open the door and warm light gently falls over my shoulders, radiating through my whole body. It is beautiful and terrifying and I am so glad I did not have to go alone.", "\"You have a visitor, sweetie.\" The nurse let a small elderly Indian woman in. She wore a hot pink and orange sari and a long necklace with little white beads shaped like skulls. That seems like an old choice for an old woman. The little wrinkled lady carried a bouquet that was even more bright and colorful than her sari. They were types of flowers that I had never seen before, and it was the most beautiful arrangement I had ever seen. She smiled warmly in my direction and sat in the seat nearest to my bed and turned toward me. The nurse left us alone.\n\nMy eyes were still very heavy from the anesthesia. It was a very simple and quick procedure just to check my intestinal health. It only took about an hour so why would someone come visit?\n\"I'm sorry, I don't think we've met before. Have we?\"\n\n\"Not in this lifetime, my dear,\" she chuckled.\n\"But I am very interested in you.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, I don't understand.\"\n\nShe gazed down at the exotic bouquet thoughtfully.\n\"These flowers are so beautiful, aren't they? Do you know I made them just for you?\"\n\nThis was confusing but I tried to be polite.\n\"Oh, wow, you arranged these for me? Thank you, that is so nice.\"\n\n\"No, you still don't understand, dear. I made these flowers for you. They exist just for you. The bright colors and unique structures remind me of your own spirit.\"\n\n\"Um... do you breed flowers, or do you do genetic modification of plants of something?\"\n\nShe chortled.\n\"No, no, my dear. I'm just an old woman who is so happy to see kindness in a young woman. But I don't think you're living your life fully. Why are you so afraid?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry - What? What is your name?\"\n\n\"Kali. I'm from India originally but I travel all over the world everyday visiting people who are dying. It's part of my work that I do. You can think of it like a charity. I grant people an end to their suffering.\"\nShe must've seen my look of horror because she grinned like a grandmother comforting her grandchildren before they go to bed.\n\n\"Don't worry, I also help them find justice in the after life and in their next lives, if they choose to come back.\"\n\nShe placed the flowers on my lap. They were desiccated and their brilliant colors had faded. I felt my heart pound and fear pump through my veins.\n\n\"Am I going to die? It was such a quick procedure - I feel fine, really! This doesn't make sense.\" My words were rushed and strained as a lump in my throat formed quickly.\n\n\"Of course not, dear! I was just in the hospital helping a man with cancer pass through and I thought I'd stop by and let you know that I'm here. I love you, but everything I touch dies. And I come for everyone and I never give warning.\"\nShe paused and smiled to herself.\n\n\"Well, I suppose I am giving you a warning now, aren't I?\"\nKali cackled heartily and joyously for a minute, even tearing up a little bit. Finally she wiped her eyes, smoothed down her sari, and became serious again.\n\n\"My point is, you need to enjoy life now, sweetheart, while you can. You're a nice young lady so I thought I'd give you a little wake up call. Keep the flowers as a reminder until I see you again.\"\n\nMy body trembled and my vision became blurred with tears. I couldn't decide if I was happy or sad. I closed my eyes and bowed my head and shook harder.\n\n\"Oh don't be frightened girl, am I that scary?\" She laughed lovingly.\n\n\"Okay, okay, you're right, I'm sorry.\" I tried to calm my sobs and rubbed my eyes.\n\"This is crazy but I want to thank you.\" I finished wiping my tears and looked up and she was gone.", "My eyes were still red, but at least the tears had stopped. Forty minutes of listening, crying, yelling, crying, hugging, and more crying. My mother had left to go pray in the chapel, and the family was in the cafeteria. I was alone with my father.\n\nCancer was such a dumb disease. Too many cells? Your body was too good at repairing itself? And so we nuked the body, like some god damn Vietnam jungle napalm. Good cells and bad, carpet bombed into oblivion. In some hail-Mary hope of curing something. Dark age medicine was what it was.\n\nA week ago my father hadn't looked good, but now he didn't even look alive. Tubes and pumps. Equipment doing the work of a half-dozen organs. The painful grimaces would be a welcome change from this stasis.\n\nAnd my mother. She knew he wouldn't want this, but he'd agreed to the medical coma because he \"Didn't want to die\" that day. But that day was 6 days ago, and she was still following that last wish. This wasn't want he would want. This wasn't it.\n\nBut she couldn't see it. Instead we argued, every day, about what to do, what he would want, what she should do. The decision had to be hers, and she couldn't make it. Hence her frequent visits to the chapel and the rectory.\n\n\"Hi Nathan\"\n\nI had been staring at a flyer on the wall and the voice surprised me.\n\n\"Oh, sorry.\" The man was holding a book with gold embroidery. His face was pale and solemn. Now that I looked at him, I realized I'd seen him in the room a few times. \"Are you the priest?\"\n\nHe smiled. \"Would you like to talk?\"\n\nI shook my head. \"I've talked enough today. I just want to sit.\"\n\n\"Mind if I join you?\" He took the chair opposite the bed.\n\nI ignored him and focused on the room. The smells. The machines. The chair with my mother's purse and jacket. Designer knock-off maybe. Black and gold, like his book. My gaze returned to him. He had it open and was reading it.\n\n\"Anything good in that 'good book'?\"\n\nHe look up at me. \"Well, some might say that good is relative.\"\n\nI nodded halfheartedly, content that I had completed some social expectation and resumed staring around the room. My hand wandered over and cupped my father's. It felt so fragile.\n\n\"Is this good, do you think?\"\n\n\"What?\" I asked. He was looking at my father. The book was closed.\n\n\"What the hospital and doctors are doing, do you think this is good?\"\n\n\"This?\" I stared at my father's lifeless body. \"No, this isn't good.\"\n\n\"They're extending his life. Isn't that good? Isn't death to be avoided or defeated?\" He spoke quietly now.\n\n\"This isn't life. He's alive, but he isn't living.\"\n\n\"So death would be good?\"\n\n\"It would be better than this.\"\n\nI thought about the family deaths. The old and the sick. Their deaths had been sad, but expected. This though, I felt robbed. Dying in your 50s? With so much to do? A grandson not yet 4? So many people who relied on you?\n\nI sighed. The tears were welling up again. It seems I hadn't quite emptied them out.\n\n\"Get some rest Nathan. I'll take care of him.\"\n\n\"Mmmm?\" I asked. My eyes began to slide closed. The drowsiness was a welcomed escape from the sorrow.\n\n\"Let me do some good for him...\"" ]	3
	[WP] [CW] Write about yourself in the 3rd person responding to a writing prompt.	[ "Her hands were typing furiously, relentless, pausing only briefly to bend to the wills of the aged machine. Long, strange, scattered beats of thumping upon the skinned tree. How crude, she thought, when measuring the worth of a tree like this one- is this so important? There was further burning from her fingertips, anxious at the edge of the page. Still slowly her fingers began to feel the soft message that came forth; she was after all delivering good news. \n\n(originally written on typewriter)", "BabirusaBlu scanned the new prompts with disinterest. She enjoyed that zombie prompt earlier, but the post was in the negatives when she submitted her reply. That was never fun, no one would end up reading it. The Pokémon prompt almost sparked her interest, as she always wished there were more Pokémon themed things. The world was interesting to contemplate as a realistic setting. Plus she could put some of her otherwise useless knowledge to use. \n\nShe checked the time on her computer. Blu really didn’t have much time left to write today, but maybe there was another post where she could write a few lines of poetry. \n\n“[WP] [CW] Write about yourself in the 3rd person responding to a writing prompt.” Ah, something recursive. It didn’t really inspire prose, but it could be a fun little exercise. Blu opened up Word just as an alert popped on in the corner of her screen. Looked like some actual work came in. \n\n“This comes from VP, need EOD ASAP.” She’d have to come back to the prompt later. \n\n“Actually,” she thought, minimizing her browser, “This sort of spices up the story, which is turning out to be a bit dull so far. I wonder if anyone out there is actually writing an interesting and truthful story about writing a story.”\n\nAs she contemplated the contemplations of others, Blu finished her work. It took less time than expected and she left the email, complete with attached files, open on her desktop. She’d wait to send it in a half hour. There was no need to let anyone know how quickly she could really get things done. \n\nOpening the prompt again, she returned to her Word document. She added in the part about getting an email from a client, and considered how much detail she should go into about the job. The story finally caught up to the present then, and started turning in on itself. Blu hoped it wouldn’t get confusing, even though she was somewhat confused herself. If the story had already caught up to the point it was being written, then how exactly could it continue? How could it end? Can it end, when the story is still being written? That would be like knitting the sweater before shearing the sheep. \n\nBlu just kept writing words in the hopes that they would make some sort of sense. Maybe if she just kept typing the story would end itself. She looked back at the prompt and realized this could have been a lot less confusing if she’d written about writing a different prompt. That story would have been much more logical.\n\n“Well, too late now,” she shrugged, seeing the paragraphs she’d already typed out. The story was just about finished… probably, and there wasn’t much point in not submitting her tangled tale. She still needed an ending though, and just as she typed that, one came to her. It was pretty obvious, perhaps uninspired, but still the logical ending. \n \nBlu gave her musings a quick scan, fixing a few spelling errors and copied it all. Going back to the prompt she pasted the tale into the comment box and hit save. \n", "Unhealthypickle was stumped. Twiddling a pencil in the lapse of flesh between nose and upper lip, he pondered this constrained prompt. He had not written a piece this evocative since the AP English finals 10 years ago.\n\nTen years ago. Back then, he was a crisp and springy cucumber, making light of school life, but also studying diligently when the need arose. Back then, playing the violin in the school orchestra was a communal meditation, in which the musicians simultaneously detached themselves until the notes were freed from the dictates of paper and bow strokes, dynamics and vibrado. He floated in both the realms of academics and music, a merry dilettante enjoying his own dance in accordance with the beat of his heart's drummer.\n\nYet the college and professional years were brine to his development. \n\ncontinuing this when I get home" ]	3
Doesn't have to be a war, we don't even have to fight the rulers/leaders, they don't have to be sinister. Just thought hyper likable aliens could be more interesting than generic bad aliens. Oh and the hyper evolved attributes don't have to be physical. They can be a sense of justice, comedic timing, guesstimation, tendency for epiphany/eureka moments, hurting others feelings/cutting insults etc. Edit: Interesting responses but I didn't mean the likability had to be from some physical characteristic. I was imagining creatures that could pinpoint what we liked, say games, strong work ethic, old fashioned meals, inappropriate jokes, 90's television, interpretive dance, whatever and they'd be able to act like someone we'd think are exceptionally likable.	[WP] Every species in the galaxy has hyperevolved one attribute on top of intelligence. The (sinister?) rulers of the galaxy evolved hyper likability. Humans enter the galactic stage. What happens?	[ "It wasn't long after we reached out into the heavens that humanity discovered it wasn't alone in the universe. In fact, there were hundreds of species that each existed peacefully (for the most part) with the other in a Galactic Confederation of Planets. The intresting thing though, was that each species had a unique trait to it that made it perfect for particular roles in the GCP. \n\nThe Qel-Kar ,for example, were exceptionally likeable creatures, and were the only ones that ever got elected to Ruling Council of the GCP. There were also the Resh, who were the scientists, the Ponti, who had a knack for creating superb food, the Dreek, who were the shrewdest of negotiators, and countless other species, each with their designated role, striking a balance with each other.\n\nAt least that's what we are told it was like before we arrived. You see, it wasn't long after we arrived that an all out war broke out between the Qel-Kar and, well us, not that we wanted it. The story behind the war went something like this:\n\nAbout 3 years after being integrated into the GCP (which was 2 years after first contact), humanity had yet to find its place in the Galaxy. Then disaster struck. A supervolcano erupted on Kopa Alpha, homeworld of the Dreeks. We immediately sent a fleet of humanitarian aid and saved millions of Dreeks from certain death. The surprising thing to us was that literally no one else came to help. So, while the rest of the rest of the galaxy watched, we continued to help the Dreeks until we had ferried everyone we could to Kopa Delta. \n\nThe Dreeks hailed us as heroes and the galaxy quickly adopted the word \"humanitarian\" to describe the action. As this proved to be our defining quality, many began to love our compassion for others, and Humans quickly became the first species to have a majority on the Ruling Council since the Qel-Kar had first taken over some 3000 years prior. \n\nThis of course angered many species, especially the Qel-Kar and an all out civil war broke out between The pro-Qel-Kar faction and the Pro-Human faction. Unfortunately for the Qel-Kar, what they and the rest of the galaxy didn't know at the time was that our defining quality wasn't our humanitarianism, but was in fact our duplicity. The charred remains of Qel-Kar Prime serve as a reminder that humanity's compassion and wrath come from the same heart.", "Hello recruits, today we will be briefing you on what you will expect when fighting out there for the good war. Interesting thing about intelligent races actually. Every single one of them has a defining trait to separate them. Eggheads back at the station nearly passed out from excitement at the prospect of new species. Had to give a retarded Latin name to all of them that we can't even say, so we have to stick to nicknames nowadays. As I was saying, every sentient creature that can escape their planet gets a single defining trait in addition to their intelligence. One example I should let you all know are the Bruisers. These tough bastards get super strength with their intelligence. Freaking monstrosities could toss a damn tank across the planet with one tendril. These bad boys are the best when it comes to biological modification. They traveled space by modifying several thousand of their own to create a living ship. These guys can take and give out the most direct punishment out of any strength based species. One unlucky bastard stood behind one while they farted in one battle. Broke 5 of his ribs and ruptured most of his organs. I don't know if he was lucky or unlucky to have survived that day, but he has an episode whenever he sees an ass nowadays. Sadly, they pale in their danger to the rest of the galaxy. The Succubi for example, have what we call hypersexuality, where they are capable of seducing all living organisms with highly effective pheremones. One whiff of that will put any creature in the mood, and that moment is when any organism is weakest. Whenever some poor sap is fighting them, he has to wear a damn gas mask at all times or else he's stuck with wood for the next 4 hours. And trust me, even with today's technology, our only cure is to inject an antidote right into his... Anyway, there are a lot of scary creatures that would make you shit yourself, hold you down, and make you eat it is what I'm saying. Though, within the galaxy's hierarchy, the top dogs here are the Cuddlefucks. That's what we call them, anyway. Scientific mumbo jumbo has a fancy ass name, but they are Cuddlefucks to us. The eggheads at the bio department say that they are controlling most of the galaxy with several different ways. Every trait of their being is made to be cute. They constantly release a pheromone that will make you feel like they are the shit, and you should obey them. These damn things look like if you crossed a cat, a fox, and a panda to make the cutest fucking thing conceivable. Their rise to power is unlike any other organism we have seen. According to the space logs, the first explorers to meet them gave them his ship so they could meet up with his race. Few weeks later, they have the entire planet under their control. Few months later, they get control over their solar system. Few years later, they start to steal technology from all sentient races to further enhance their cuteness. Men, we are not only humanity's last hope, but the galaxy's last hope. Many scientists are fighting on whether humanity even has a special attribute compared to everyone else, but I found that answer already. Humanity is the natural enemy of the Cuddlefucks, and they know it. I'm not going to say that our specialty is war, violence, or some shit like that. No, we are easily beaten by the Xyglocudites in that stuff. No, we have something more powerful than that: Greed. We are going to conquer this universe. We are going to steal the technology to every race we defeat. And we are going to take our rightful place in the galaxy, or die trying.", "For millenia the universe was ruled by the sinister race of aliens. Everybody knew what was going on, but nobody could fight them or resist their invasion - so cute they were.\n\nBut then humans have discovered the space travel, and the reign was over. Every race has a huperevolved attribute, and humans had developed the most brutal of all - the tendency for conflict and destruction.\n\nAfter hundreds of years of destroying our own environment, killing each other, making the cutest animals suffer and die, we've developed the immunity to cutness and compassion.\n\nThe alien-master-race wasn't that powerful, it relied on kindness and niceness of other species to rule, so it was incredibly easy for humans to overthrow. \n\nAnd that is how the most horrifying and brutal race in the galaxy turned out to be it's savior.", "All species have a hat, a hat of characterization that came with the evolution of their species. For the Quan, it was likability, everyone likes them, they are a bunch of cheery and friendly people that everyone in the whole galaxy trusts implicitly, which is why they are trusted to rule the Galactic Confederation. There is the Candaari, who came into the galaxy with a harsh and objective view of justice, making them perfect for controlling the judicial arm of the Galactic Confederation. The Vneer are great gourmets, and can make anything into a delicious meal, they travel the universe seeking new ingredients and spices. And then there is the humans.\n\nThe humans were a very shy race, rarely seen outside of their systems and when seen, usually clad in bulky suits that kept their form secret. But humanity did not evolve with great secrecy, just an above average level. But their hat was revealed when the human senator entered the Galactic Senate for the first time. The entrance of the human was met with a deafening cry: ''IT IS SO CUTE!'', and the senator was promptly hugged, petted and brushed, much against his will, by a number of Velnors, a species of extremely honest and jovial creatures. After he was released, everyone took pictures of him and put him up on the Galactic Extranet, and within hours the network was screaming for more pictures of adorable, hug-able, lovely humans.\n\nPhotographers swarmed the human borders, desperate to see another human, and when an envoy was sent from the human's central government, the galaxy found that it was even cuter than the other. Everyone wanted to meet the humans, they were the most adorable things that anyone could possibly imagine. Some humans, with strange tastes, went out for the sake of human-xeno relations and became ''public humans'' in order to spread the influence and reach of the human race. It worked perfectly. Originally they were just supposed to be a form of envoys or ambassadors between the galaxy and humanity, but they soon became a great tool for diplomacy.\n\nWho could resist giving a ridiculously good deal when the human rolled over and made huge eyes at you? Who could seriously go to war when the humans asked prettily for them not to? Humans were just too cute to refuse, for humans produce the effect in aliens that kittens have on humans, just magnified tenfold. And humans, being humans, are experts in exploiting this to the fullest." ]	4
	[WP] You are a customer service agent at the Interstellar Genetic Resort, a place where sentient life forms have their DNA temporarily altered for their own amusement.	[ "Somehow, inevitably, it always comes back to penises. Or breasts. But no, it’s usually penises. You’d think with an entire genetic catalog forty-three thousand base pairs of carbon, silicon, and even nitrogen varieties, each with an endless number of permutations, people would get a little more creative. You know, exist as a gaseous being composed entirely of thought for a while. You could basically be god of your own private snowglobe. But instead, it’s all about penises. \n\n\nSex. It’s the immutable drive that pushes us regardless of what form we take. And here at the Interstellar Genetic Resort, where people can be and do literally anything, all they really want to do is get it on while being green. It’s like if Star Trek had a Club Med. \n\n\nAnd what do I do? I deal with penis problems. Not physically. We have geneticists to serve you up a dick d’jour. My job is to deal with people who come in dissatisfied with their genetically altered appendage. “It’s not big enough.” “There are too many shafts.” “There aren’t enough shafts.” “Does this look square to you?” “I was told I’d be able to cum rainbows, but I didn’t see any violet, and no, purple is not violet.” On and on. Like I said, I deal with breast problems too. And butts, and occasionally some other sexual appendage or orifice, but for the most part it’s a parade of dicks. \n\n\nWhen I was training to be a customer service rep at the most illustrious pleasure resort in the universe I was happy. Hell, I was proud. My mom even put my graduating certificate up on the refrigerator. I thought that was cute, sort of nostalgic and campy. Now when I stop by to visit and see it, all I see it a Zzarthonian space wang, which isn’t rectangular enough, and let’s face it, could be a few microns thinner. \n\n\nSo that’s my life. Day in and day out. I try to get nouveau space rich satisfied with their spliced and recombined junk. It’s definitely not all I thought it would be. But it has taught me a lesson. Men, regardless of the size, shape, or performance of their own personal moon rocket, are never ever satisfied.\n", "Ping... Ping... Ping...\n\n\"Hello, this is the office of Genotrip customer service. How can I help you?\"\n\n\"Hi, um, I'm a customer and I had a few questions, uh, regarding a treatment I just got. I...I, had a bit of Sosorian DNA spliced... and, well...\"\n\n\"The effects haven't worn off? How long has it been\" \n\n\"Uh, no they haven't, yet. And it's been eight hours now.\"\n\n\"Eight? Don't worry sir, even with four extra hours; aside possible low blood pressure, the persistence of a second penis does not usually have any negative impact on your health. It's quite a simple reversal and you can have it done for minimal cost even at a basic modification clinic.\"\n\n\"Thanks, I uh, I don't know if this changes anything but it's also been, well, stiff ,the whole time.\"\n\n\"No sir, the Sosorians are well known for their vigor. You might have called in to complain had it not been stiff the whole time. Was that all sir?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes. NO WAIT. I uh, my wives also had a few, er, changes...\"\n\n...\n\n\"Can you tell me which they had sir?\"\n\n\"It was... It was the... the uh, ^the ^Sirilian ^strain.\" \n\n\"And were they given the full or the half dose?\"\n\n\"Th-The full.\"\n\n\"Wheew, and the effects are still persisting?\"\n\n\"They, uh, no. They've gotten worse! It's e-everywhere and I can't calm them. I tried to keep going. It's no use. Can you help?\"\n\n\"For that you will need to come back to us for a nucleic refreshment intervention. For the sake of our other customers we ask that you alert us ten minutes before your departure so that we can prepare the private reception area. We wouldn't want a mess in the commons.\"\n\n\"B-Bring them? If they see me again I'll be lucky to ever leave my house again. They're all writhing together where I left them. I'm not going back in there.\"\n\n\"Ah, now sir, I have to ask; Was there, at any time, a possible venue for bodily fluid exchange between the individuals in question?\"\n\n\"I, um, well... Yes, I suppose... There was, ok? There was a whole lot of it! I didn't think it would be that bad. Can we please move on?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry to say, sir, that the liability release form you signed before undergoing the treatment specifically warned against allowing bodily fluid transmission between two users of the same gene-splice. We cannot treat this ourselves but I can give you the number of several specialists who may be able to help.\"\n\nData sent\n\n\"We would like to highlight that the liability release form also absolves us of all legal liability towards customers who have misused or altered our products and services. Nonetheless, I wish you the very best. Have a nice day sir.\"" ]	2
	[WP] You are Kanye West's man-servant/body guard. Terrorists have announced celebrity jihad and have invaded. Despite your best effort to keep Kanye safe, your at the mercy of his moronic decisions.	[ "\"You'ra let me finish?! \nImma' let you live, if follow my directions to the letter.\"\n\nKanye's hands are slick with sweat. His grip on the solid gold iphone weakens as he braces the cold bricks with his back. His heels are perched precariously on the narrow plaster rim running along the building's exterior from the balcony.\n\n\"You need to reach a phone booth. There is no time to explain. Suffice it say that things are not as you perceive them.\" Kanye lifts his up head up just enough to see what lies in on the horizon: fire, and a wall of smoke a mile high. The only thing to stand out of the smoke are white exhaust trails carved out by the rogue mujahid fighter jets. \n\nShit was cray, and Yeezy was gonna listen this time, but that didn't mean it'd be easy...", "\"Kanye, get down!\" I shout, as bullets fly past my head. I unload a few rounds into the mass of them, but their suppressive fire makes this difficult.\n\n\"You will pay for your crimes against God!\" says one of the terrorists, continuing to shoot haphazardly.\n\nKanye, all the while, is turned around facing a wall rife with bullet holes. Bullets continue to whir past him, all of them somehow missing. In one, quick, fluid movement, Kanye turns around and grabs one of the terrorists by the collar. His eyes, glowing a bright white, he says \"I am a God.\"\n\nSpirits, tortured souls, and angels, all a shimmering white burst forward into the room and the faces of the terrorists all melt away. Kanye's eyes return their natural color, and he turns away to face me. \"Nah, you get down,\" he says, and I obey, getting down on my knees to bow to his glory.\n\nA pillar of light descends from the heavens, and Kanye ascends into it, all the while repeating, \"I am a God.\"" ]	2
	[WP] The protagonist is slowly turning to the dark side and you are the only one who has noticed. You are the antagonist.	[ "I turn, and strike the man in the face, backhand. He reels, but stays on his feet. Good, I can't have weakness in my camp.\n\n\"You're leading us in circles, idiot!\"\n\n\"No,\" He pleads. \"We haven't been here before.\"\n\n\"Then why is this town destroyed? We have been here, you just can't read a map. Give me that!\"\n\nI grab the map, and turn it to look. A red line marks our path, it bends quite a bit but doesn't appear to loop back on itself. That doesn't mean anything of course, we couldn't get a magic map. This is just ink on paper.\n\n\"You've messed up.\"\n\nI hand him back the map. \n\n\"Find out where we are really, then-\"\n\nShouting. We must be under attack, natural consequence of coming back somewhere we've been before. I run towards the noise. It's quieted down by the time I arrive though. Must not have been a very strong attack. A bunch of soldiers are bunched around an old man and some boys. There aren't any bodies on the ground, so they must have surrendered quickly. I wonder what they hoped to achieve. \n\nThe elder speaks first.\n\n\"Are you the one they call the Shadow?\"\n\n\"Clearly.\"\n\nHe doesn't seem afraid. If anything, he brightens up when he hears my name. Usually they pale and try to flee. I've made sure to maintain my reputation. He's not done talking though.\n\n\"My lord, our village was destroyed by a man named Wrain. He named you as his enemy.\"\n\n\"So? Don't assume that I will be kind simply because you were hurt by some enemy of mine. I will take what I want from here.\"\n\n\"We want revenge against him. We want to join you.\"\n\nHe is waiting when I return.\n\n\"It seems you were lucky. This isn't one of ours.\"\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n\"Are you ever wrong?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Then you know who this Wrain is.\"\n\n\"He was a hero from one of the first villages you destroyed. The one you fought by the mountain, where you consumed that Precursor cache. He might make a good recruit.\"\n\n\"He sounds determined. He may be a hero in name, but he has given up that title to pursue me it seems.\"\n\n\"All the better, the ones who give up the most are the most loyal. His motivations are very similar to your own, if you bring him into your army he will be like a son to you. All he needs is a little encouragement.\"\n\n\"And you can provide that encouragement?\"\n\n\"Yes. Send me to find him, and when we meet again I will have your greatest servant by my side. Other than me, of course.\"\n\n\"Don't bring him back here. Determination I can work with, but I remember him. There can only be one.\"\n\n\"Are you sure-\"\n\n\"Yes. Turn him to me, then report back. I will decide what to do from there.\"\n\n\"That is not ideal-\"\n\n\"It is final. Go.\"\n\nThat was odd, I usually end up caving when I argue with him. I guess he didn't have a logical argument for bringing him back without thinking. I'm getting the hang of having an adviser. \n\n****\n\nRead more of my stories at /r/ghotioninabarrel", "Where did it all go wrong?\n\nLawful, neutral, or chaotic? Good, neutral, or evil? \n\nI picked neutral evil, why not? A girl's gotta have a little fun. I wasn't ready to militarize a nation to wage endless wars against dirt countries in the third world, and seating myself as the terrifying and ruthless head of a drug cartel wasn't really my speed either.\n\nI can't even taste this shitty last meal.\n\nAll I wanted was to look out for number one; me, myself, and I. So I stole. Lives. \n\nI got quite good at it if I do say so myself. I made a name as an assassin of unparalleled talent. Bam; international blacklist before my fortieth birthday. Even the underground had a price on my head until they realized no one had the balls to try and collect. Flattering. But I don't believe in honour among thieves anymore. A good lawful-evil is so hard to find nowadays.\n\nWill I sleep tonight?\n\nOf course, I had the local enforcement in my usual holes nice and bought out. Neutral and chaotic good won't put the lives of some foreign diplomat above the citizens they serve and protect on a day to day basis. I even donate quite generously to charities whenever I need to lie low in an area. Civilians, neutrals, won't turn me in when I'm the one paving their roads. As long as the life that paid me didn't come out of their circles we were all happy to share the wealth.\n\nWill it feel like sleep?\n\nI don't know where they found him. Johannes goddamn* Truler. A man that might have marched straight from Auschwitz to INTERPOL head office. He hunted me. there's no other word for it. They gave him everything; trucks, drones, an army of manpower. He rolled into every last village, safe house, or shanty town I'd ever spent more than a night and a meal's worth of money in and closed it down. Locked up every last man woman and child as accomplices and benefactors of crime. No commuted sentences in exchange for intel on me, he just starved me out of homes. One by one. \n\nIt's morning already\n\nHe was waiting in the middle of the road as I walked into the town where he finally caught me. So confident, so smug. I didn't run. I knew he'd had eyes on me long before I arrived. Running would have just gotten me killed faster.\n\nI should have run\n\nHe told me that the age of \"My kind\" was coming to a close. He said he'd trained every man and woman in the upper brass of INTERPOL and that I was the first on their long list of undesirables to be brought in using their merciless new strategies. \n\nCigarette? Why not?\n\nI tangled with the worst sort; I drank with the crime lords. I played cards with the devils and the Jokers of our age. I looked them all in the eye and I laughed. I laughed until I met the one man that scared me. \n\nI haven't laughed since I fell in the way of a lawful good. ", "\"My, my: isn't he learning well.\" I spoke quietly from pitch-black room, illuminated only by a dozen monitors, arrayed about in front of me across half a dome, each screen showing a different corner of the war, a different side to the same bloodshed. A different view of the same, new war I'd fought for so long.\n\n\"Tell me again.\" I said to the aide who'd just entered. \"What exactly happened in Fort Grad? The Alliance pulled some clever trick, their usual fare that I'll get an earful about in the tactical meeting an hour from now, I caught that, but after that...\"\n\n\"Sir,\" the aide responded, slowly, like he was... terrified. Not of me, that was normal, and the aides all talked to eachother enough to realize that I don't shoot the messengers. At least, not anymore. You never appreciate how hard it is to get a good aide until you've thrown all of them into the dragon pits. \"The Alliance forces entered the fort by... by using dragons sir. They burnt the fort to cinders until the garrison had to run out to survive the flames.\"\n\n\"Clever.\" I stated somewhat dully. \"Can't believe I never thought of that. Kind of obvious, in hindsight, but a good tactical use of dragonfire. I'll make sure to tell the dragonrider corps to remember that trick.\"\n\n\"And when the garrison came out of the fort sir... they surrendered. Unconditionally.\"\n\n\"Of course they did. Half of them were probably on fire still, and they'd just lost the walls that kept them alive through the siege. They were starving and on fire, the alliance troops were well fed and probably had water buckets on hand.\"\n\n\"And the alliance... refused. Sir. Cut them down as they ran from the fort with heavy machine gun fire.\"\n\nI raised an eyebrow. \"You said they wiped out the garrison...\"\n\n\"Almost to the last man sir. Our only known survivors are two scouts who slipped out through a backdoor. And even most of the men who left that way were caught eventually. Apparently the Prince...\" the aide gulped. \"Apparently he ordered his men to mount our soldiers' heads on poles, for decoration.\"\n\n\"He's infringing on my copyright.\" I grumbled, irritably. The aide flinched slightly, and that brought me into a slightly better mood. \"What other information did the survivors relate?\"\n\n\"They apparently searched the castle once the flames died down... and executed any survivors on the spot, sir. Thirty thousand troops were lost at the fort, all dead.\"\n\n\"Hmmm. Now isn't that interesting. A Massacre to do me proud.\" I smiled a tight smile, sharper than a rapier. \"Tell the generals I want them in the briefing room in six hours.\" I told the aid. \"It's time we brought our A-game to bear, the young prince is certainly bringing his.\" I leaned back into my tall, dark chair, swiveling it back toward the monitors. \"This war just got much more interesting.\"", "It was depressing. It really was.\n\nI mean, you spend years training to be a megalomaniac necromancer of immense power, you summon demons to shrive the souls of men, you slaughter villages, sparing neither women nor babe...\n\nAnd you find out there are worse things in the world. You find out good can be oh so much more evil than you.\n\nI got into necromancy for all the right reasons, and being an intrinsically evil trade they were therefore the wrong reasons. Power, wealth, infamy, knowledge beyond the reck of man. And girls of course. Never underestimate how heady an aphrodisiac power could be, nor the slimming qualities of a good black robe. I'd spread my influence across the land like a ravaging plague, or at least like a big blot of ink on your favourite white shirt. The one you wore for special occasions. And it had been great. Tributes had flowed across the land to me, carefully penned letters asked me please would I stop, and life was good. Or bad perhaps, depends on your point of view.\n\nAh, there was the rub. They say good and evil are two sides of the same coin. And that was the way things should be. But when one side bleeds into another, you end up with a horrible topological nightmare. And something far worse than I could have ever imagined.\n\nLet me tell you about the Templar Sigurd. A good and holy man, imbued by the gods with the strength to combat and overcome darkness. We'd battled many times over the years. Sometimes, I came close to victory, only for one of his comrades to heroically sacrifice themselves, or a glint of sunlight would chance off his breastplate into my eyes, allowing his escape. And he'd come close himself, I'll give him that. Many times, my seemingly sincere promises of repentance (helped sometimes by a judicious amount of urine (don't judge, pant wetting falls under acceptable subterfuge in the inventory of any decent evil doer)) allowed my speedy exit from a summary execution.\n\nOver the years, we went at it. Back and forth, and I admit, it was fun. There's no point in being evil unless you know you're having an effect. And Sigurd was the perfect foil. Kind, virtuous, damn it he even had the long flowing locks, boyish good looks, and diamond blue eyes that any good evil doer could ever wish for in a adversary.\n\nGood days. Or should I say bad days? Evil adjectives can get so tiresome at times.\n\nAnd then it all came to an end. Maybe I'd overstretched my reach. Maybe I'd killed one to many of Sigurd's plucky sidekicks (but frankly, they were always piss. As far as I'm concerned, I was doing him a favour by killing them). Something snapped in Sigurd. The fires that had glittered behind those eyes died, replaced by a steely coldness.\n\nHe'd united the cities of the planes, enacted rules and regulations to protect the citizens against my foul advances. And they worked.\n\nOh, how they worked.\n\nOver the years, the small empire he'd established had become prosperous and safe. And a nightmare.\n\nYes, I'd ravaged the lands. Yes, I'd killed men and cursed their progeny with tiny winkies. But I'd never stolen their souls.\n\nOk, tell a lie, I had done that a few times. The last time, I'd taken them and crafted them into a rather fetching kaftan. It was useless at keeping the cold out, but damn if it wasn't swanky as hell.\n\nThe point was, I'd never asked them to thank me. I'm the evil necromancer, it's my job, I don't need thanks, just tribute and terror.\n\nBut what Sigurd had created over the years...\n\nThey were safe. The were wealthy. Their immortal souls weren't woven into haute couture. But still they were dead. Their bodies moved, but their mind were no longer their own.\n\nSigurd had created gears of safety and order, and they ground the minds of the populace into grist. Occasionally there were those who spoke out against the new regime, but they were quickly silenced. For the greater good of course. \n\nAs I said, it was all so depressing. I'd tried to enslave humanity under my heel. Sigurd had shown me there was an easier way. Just get them to lay down, and put their own heels on their heads.", "“James, a hundred and forty-five people injured!” I yelled at the caped man in terror. \n\nStrongarm only looked out of window, contemplating the Chicago cityscape. James was the first superhero and the greatest in terms of his power. With his bulletproof sinew and muscles and immense strength in his arms that punched through blocks of solid steel, he decided to work for the government that destroyed our hometown and everyone in it. \n\nWhen the radiation leak from Dresden hit our small town of Channahon, most of the people did not realize that they were slowly dying from the inside. The incidence of cancer skyrocketed, tumors everywhere, but the government agents closed us off as people began to protest. They quarantined Channahon and cut our power, water, and gas. Some people tried to leave, but judging from the corpses with the bullet holes in them when I left the city, not many of them succeeded.\n\nAs far as I’m aware, only five people made it out alive. Well, more like four. The old man Francis at age of 105 was eternally wheelchair bound and practically immobile. He can twitch his eyelids every now and then. Stuck at age of 86 when the leak happened. I feel my heart break for Francis every time I thought of him. He became unable to die: Immortality in infirmity. \n\nJenny simply walked out of town by stealing a police officer’s uniform… and the officer’s face. I don’t know where she is nowadays. Could be another stranger I bump into when I go to work or she could be in another country for all I know. She sent James and me postcards from Saipan a few months back, so maybe she retired from her job in smuggling. She was my seatmate in arts class. I really miss her.\n\nDerrick, the class president, got one of the shorter ends of the straw. He had a bright future ahead of him. Though I didn’t know him too well because he was three years older than I was, but I heard he was accepted into four Ivy League schools before the disaster happened. I suppose we call him “Meltings” nowadays. Aside from his disfigured face with the horribly drooped skin, Derrick leaks corrosive acid from his glands that even melts bullets in its tracks. He found out the Channahon accident was an experiment for the US army to develop the next breeds of bio-weapons. Afterwards, he has become what most people call a super-villain. \n\nJames took the job from the US army easily. He was five-years-old when the disaster happened. His father was a negligent alcoholic and his mother died from radiation poisoning. He became what all little kids dream of becoming when they grow up: Superman. He stopped a dozen bank robberies, saved people from fires, and even hugged a terrorist bomb that was meant to blow up Wells Street Bridge. Strongarm was a national hero. But people were getting hurt, and unnecessarily. I got into the job only four years after when I saw what Derrick was doing. I wanted to help out others rather than repeat the cycle. \n\n“Look at this report. Now.” I continued handing James a dossier.\n\n“No, Bryan. You’ve been a good mentor, but we’ve been over this. I’m not reading that.” James replied.\n\n“Four deaths. Roland Cartier was walking home to his two daughters and wife. You crushed his spine when you landed on him as you jumped over a truck to catch Meltings. Veronica Hill was driving to work to pay off her student loans. You picked up that car, thinking it was empty and threw it at Meltings. Broken neck as well as punctured organs. Instant death. Jangsi Cho was a fifteen-year-old, who skipped two grades, and was graduating next year. Damn pothole cover that you threw bounced off a wall and hit him in the head. Massive cranial hemorrhage. He was declared dead when the paramedics got there. And Tobias…”\n\n“Stop. I know there are casualties. But Melting’s gotta pay for he did to Sandra. He must pay. No matter what the cost. Look at the city Bryan. They call me a hero. I stopped another one of his plans to blow up the damned Willis tower. I caught fifteen of his goons, and they’re going to help us find this son of a bitch and make him pay. Rip his fingernails of his fingers out one at a time.”\n\n“You’re insane.” I muttered, but James did not seem to hear me.\n\n“Maybe. But who are you to stop me? I’m the good guy.” \n\nAs James walked out of the room, I looked through once again the list of the injured: Jason, Ira, Mannix, Ampelio, Desmond, Riley, Mason… I felt their stories. This was my curse. I could feel their suffering and their innermost thoughts. Just from their names. And when I think of the name James Holden, I could feel nothing but pure rage. He was an uncontrolled bull. Last time it was seven death. This time it was four. The numbers keep adding up. Somebody had to stop him. \n\nIt was about time I gave my old class president a visit.\n" ]	5
	[WP] You are a Martian. You are involved in a project to "Marsoform" Earth.	[ "Our world is dying. \n\nNobody thought our molten iron core would start slowing down. Nobody thought our magnetosphere would start to give way to the poisonous, unforgiving solar wind. Nobody thought our oceans would start drying up. Nobody thought our atmosphere would start disappearing.\n\nExcept me. When I presented the readings from my drone excavation project, all my colleagues laughed and told me it was simply impossible. When I told them we had but two centuries left to live, they spat on my face.\n\nPride. Arrogance. I guess that was our true downfall. Nobody wanted to believe Mars could die. It's the only planet with intelligent life in the Sol system. \n\nWe looked to our neighbor for hope. Terra. Terra had water. Terra had land. Terra had life. \n\nDestructive, dangerous, incompatible life - Terran life evolved from dextro-amino acids. Levo-amino Martians wouldn't be able to eat any of the food, but the Department of Agriculture had a plan to maintain our own plants and animals on Terra. \n\nWell, that's what we told the Martian populace when they demanded to know why the emigration kept being delayed, and why our \"scouting parties\" kept disappearing. The truth is worse. Terrifyingly worse. We had found large reptilian creatures the height of my apartment building in Olympia. These creatures could destroy Terran trees with brute strength. \n\nI was charged with the destruction of these creatures. These reptilian freaks of nature. Martian citizens would protest the destruction of this unique form of life. But we knew it was our only choice. We couldn't risk rebellion. There was enough chaos in the streets. \n\nThese creatures dominated Terra and came in many different, horrific forms. I suggested bio-warfare, but every virus we created had no affect on the foreign lifeforms. The military turned to ground battles. But everyone they ever sent kept dying. Our bullets were not enough to penetrate their scales. And we were too small.\n\nNuking them was our last resort. We risked destroying the planet and making it unlivable, but it looked to be our only choice...\n\n...Until today. The idea came to me - cliche as it may be - in a dream. Initially, I thought it just as risky as nukes, and risked destroying Terra forever. But all it required was precision. The right size with the right velocity. \n\nToday is the day we have hope. Today is the day I launch an asteroid at Terra.\n\n", "\"Look, this is a big project. It takes time. There's an entire ecosystem down there.\"\n\n\"And we're paying a lot for you to deal with that. Besides, I seem to recall someone saying at our first planning meeting, 'Doesn't matter how big the ecosystem is, it all dies when you take out the atmosphere.'\"\n\n\"That was before we started researching the humans.\"\n\n\"I also seem to recall someone saying, 'Sentient, schmentient, once we make an archive we can bomb them into the Stone Age and no one will care.\"\n\n\"Well... that turned out to be a little more complicated than we expected. See, we've got all the live samples we need to make the Council happy. No problems on the biological archive. The problem is the cultural archive.\"\n\n\"Really? How much culture can a pre-spaceflight species have?\"\n\n\"Well, it didn't seem that complicated at first. Some pyramids, some big statues, a couple faces carved into a mountain, don't blow those up and you'll be fine. But we saw that some of the samples were carrying some rather advanced electronics, and we figured out what they did, and then we went back and looked at the human cities in the light of that new data, and...\"\n\n\"Get to the point, will you?\"\n\n\"They've got a distributed electronic network spanning most of the globe. Mass-produced computer systems, containing petabytes of information. Maybe exabytes. And according to the Preservation Policy, we have to archive almost the whole thing. Our original plan was to go with the fast marsiforming method and just bomb anyone who makes a fuss about it. But if we try that now...\"\n\n\"We'd destroy their networks, which puts us in violation. That's a really stupid policy, now that I think about it.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well, it sounded reasonable at the time. We'd never seen a planet with this much culture to archive.\"\n\n\"I'm still surprised that the humans managed to produce that much data. I mean, an exabyte? That's more than the entire Martian Library. What are they storing?\"\n\n\"Our xenoanthropologists had a look. We haven't decoded most of the data, the language barrier is an issue, but we did manage to crack some of their image encoding formats. And you won't believe this, the first ten images we decoded all showed human reproductive acts.\"\n\n\"So, the entire planet has a distributed network of information that needs to be archived. Your research division spend moon-turns and megacredits on deciphering it, and it turns out to be human pornography.\"\n\n\"That about sums it up.\"\n\n\"Was this planet designed to screw with us? Did some sick god see our Preservation Policy and decide to make a planet that would force us to read a trillion pages of alien porn? Moons above and craters below, what is with this planet?\"\n\n\"I'm not a mind-reader, let alone a human mind-reader. Anyway, either we find a way to marsiform an entire planet without anyone noticing, or we find a way to copy the entire human network, which is exabytes in size and growing every day. Or you could get the Council to change the Policy, I suppose.\"\n\n\"So, you're basically saying it's not going to happen.\"\n\n\"Probably not. But we're getting plenty of alien porn out of it.\"", "“Right then,” said Zxzbzt. “So we position the atmospheric suction satellites in geosynchronous orbits, drain the oceans via trans-dimensional portal-hoses, and the nanobots do the rest.”\n\n“That’s the plan,” said Ninininini. “Should make the planet livable within a few dozen revolutions.”\n\n“My, what a sight that will be,” sighed Zxzbzt. “That desolate, swampy wasteland, turned into a warm red paradise for hundreds of generations of Martians to enjoy.”\n\n“I might move there myself,” said Ninininini.\n\n“You’ve had worse ideas,” agreed Zxzbzt.\n\n“Of course, there is the question of the humans.”\n\n“Hmmm?”\n\n“Won’t they object?”\n\n“How could they object? We’ll be freeing their rock from its suffocating, stifling atmosphere. Tripling — tripling! — its geographical space. Think of it! The oceans, they cover two thirds of the planet’s surface! Can you live in the oceans? Can you grow crops there? No! That’s wasted space, Nini!”\n\nNinininini couldn’t help but nod one of his heads. “Yes, I agree, but it still seems to me like we should perhaps have asked them first — the humans, I mean — to see what they thought of the Marsoformation.”\n\n“Oh, I’m sure they’d protest if we asked,” said Zxzbzt. “The Earthlings despise change. But the new planet will grow on them, once they see how much better it is. They’ll be thanking us, soon enough!”\n\nNinininini appeared unconvinced. Zxzbzt, sensing the other’s uncertainty, came around the side of the holo-display and laid three arms across his lieutenant’s gooey middle-back.\n\n“Look,” said Zxzbzt, “let’s think about this rationally. You know that Mars was once very much like the Earth.”\n\nNinininini nodded.\n\n“But did we leave it that way? Of course not! We grew tired of the rowdy and unpredictable climate, of the dreadful damp! So when we were fully grown, when we’d become the Martians we were meant to be, we fixed the place up! And we’ve all been much better off, ever since!”\n\n“I guess you’re right,” said Ninininini. “It’s for their own good.”\n\n“And ours,” added Zxzbzt. “Don’t you think it’s time that Martians began to settle the universe? We’re the chosen people of the galaxy, Nini. We were born on Mars — but we were never meant to die here.”\n\nWistfully, Ninininini stared at the projection of Earth. \n\n“So,” said Zxzbzt, “what do you say?”\n\n“Let’s get on with it,” said Ninininini, his feelers twinging with a melancholy he couldn’t quite trace." ]	3
	[WP] The meaning of life has been finally discovered, but people hate it.	[ "Apathy ran rampant, and existential crises became the norm for even the most simple-minded people. Philosophers began to question life's absurdity, and certain religious figures argue against the theory, despite the evidence. It was as if there was a collective \"Now what?\" \n\n\nIt was unfortunately ironic that the meaning of life was to fruitlessly seek out the meaning of life. ", "\"It's shit,\" I said.\n\n\"Very funny, but what is it really?\"\n\n\"No really, it's shit. That's the purpose of our existence.\" I replied.\n\n\"But.... what does that mean? ''It's' shit.'' You can't be telling me that...\"\n\n\"What I'm telling you,\" I interrupted, \"is that all planetary intelligences evolve to the point where they take all matter that isn't hydrogen, package it neatly and transport it to another universe where it won't bother the stars with the stink. Planetary sentients think they're doing this so they can live forever in some kind of heaven.\"\n\n\"Huh,\" he said.\n\nI went on. \"The fact of the matter, is that when we were finally able to communicate with the more sentient stars, they told us that they programmed us to do this as a sanitary measure.\" They especially don't like carbon and iron. \"They smell funny\" was the nearest translation we could get from them. From a star's point of view, carbon, oxygen, nitrogen and iron are shit.\n\n\"So...,\" the words drifted out from him slowly, \"We're shit. Shit taking care of shit. That's our purpose?!\" he asked.\n\n\"Shit Yeah!\" I giggled. \"Shit yeah....\"\n\n\"Holy shit!\"", "I remember snearing in disbelief when the scientists announced they had figured it all out. I mean it was so stupidly simple, and yet we had all overlooked it. I now do the ritual twice a day, my kids do it as much as four. You just put your left foot in, you take your left foot out, you do the hokey pokey and you turn your self around. ", "So it's true.\nWe are just an intergalactic experiment. All of Earth is but a seed planted in the universe. Such a great motivation to continue persisting on life, huh? \nAliens; fucking aliens, are the only reason why we are even alive. They just watch us like lab rats procreating, inventing, destroying, fighting and suffering. I had always hoped life in this dimension only meant reaching the next; refining our consciousness through wisdom and experience to prepare ourselves for that next step. It almost sounds naive at this point.... How silly were we to assume \"faith\" would take us further. How ridiculous to believe \"love\" had any value. How ignorant of us to live our lives as \"knowledgeable\". Look at us now, we are but an ant farm manipulated by a higher being. They use US to find the meaning of THEIR existence. They are recreating the history of THEIR evaluation to see where things went wrong or right. It was all about THEM. Not us. FUCK YOU ALIENS.", "I miss my freedom. I didn't appreciate it much. I remember feeling lost and scared, frustrated about being a pointless spec of dust aimlessly floating in the empty universe. I desperately wished for my life to mean something, to know that it all has a purpose. \n\nI was sick of being meaningless, but unfortunately, I haven't considered the alternative. Now, that the One-True-Answer has been discovered, there's no alternatives, no options. There's only One thing to do, only One thing that is worth doing.\n\nWithout the Answer, people used to make up the answers for themselves, they used to choose whatever they want out of life, and then just roll with it. Without the predetermined answer, everyone was free to create meanings for themselves. Meanings were crazy and chaotic, but they were our own.\n\nNow, all that is left is to mechanically follow the course set fornus by the One-True-Answer, and as glorious as it is - I want my freedom of choice back." ]	5
I personally think that a story from the perspective of the inventor of the technology would be cool. However, I want to leave this prompt as open as possible to writers.	[WP] Supercomputers can be used to "sleep" for us by doing the calculations our brains normally do during sleep and then uploading the calculations to our brains when finished. Only the rich can afford the CPU time though.	[ "Who would have thought that my side project would turn out to be this important? Most certainly not me. It started off as a little curiosity. My little kitty would always come lie down and sleep off on my keyboard just as i was getting into crunch time with my work. I wished I could wave a wand and have my little buddy feel fully refreshed. And just like that a little seed was sown. What's the latest research on sleep? Are there sleeping aids for cats? Can I do better? What's the neuromachanical basis of sleep and it's refreshing goodness? I started to read up on it in my spare time and there was a significant amount of literature available. \n\nSlowly but surely it came together. Upregulation of a few neurotransmitters here, messing with a few gilial cells there and coaxing system wide brain patterns seemed to do the trick. I needed a test subject. Of course I wasn't going to test it on my dear kitty that would be cruel. Naturally I signed up as the guinea pig and that's when things got very interesting. \n\nI had planned to do a prior empirical study of its use with lots of test data and monitoring and all that but it all went out the window when I came home after a three day stretch at work. I had met the deadline for the project but now my boss let me know that I had to deliver a presentation in about three hours. There was no way I could handle that. I Could barely stay conscious at the time. I'll need at least a whole day to get back to my normal self. So I set my alarm clock for two hours and just before I hit the bed my contraption caught my eye. It was a bad decision but my judgment was already seriously degraded. I drank the pharmaceutical cocktail put on the helmet, let it boot up, pushed the button and collapsed under the weight of a sudden wave of sleepiness. \n\nI never dream. Or at least I never remember my dreams but tonight was different. I dreamt big time. About all sorts of things. I dreamt about strange beautiful places, Weird characters, my boss, sea creatures in politics and then I dreamt about my presentation. It went really well. We were having a little chit chat with the audience after the presentation when the fire alarm went off and triggered me out of my slumber. \n\nAt first I was overwhelmed by fear. How could I have slept so long? Enjoying so many dreams I must have missed the presentation. But then I noticed there wasn't any sunlight bleeding into the room off the sides of the curtains. Was it raining? why is it still dark? Taking off the helmet I reached for my phone. The time seemed to be off. The tv time seemed to corroborate my phone though. Wtf. I slept for just 5 minutes? \n\nAfter the initial fright had faded away I realized how refreshed I felt. Super refreshed like I had been sleeping for a week and I can fight tigers. Damn. I went online on my computer just to confirm the time again. \n\nIt was really exciting. This sleep machine qas a hoot! I buried my excitement prepped for my presentation and delivered it. While presenting I noticed several cognitive boosts to my memory, reasoning and clarity of thought. It got me visibly excited until I realized something odd. Everyone had on the same outfits they had in my dream. Hell the presentation was of a copy of the presentation in my dream down to the questions asked. I pinched myself repeatedly to confirm I wasn't still dreaming. Trying not to freak out I preoccupied myself chit chatting with the audience after the presentation. That was until the fire alarm went off.\n\nend of part one", "Can't be hacked... \n\nCan't be hacked my ass!\n\nI make good money doing what I do! You need a rich snob wiped? I'll do it for ya! It'll cost a pretty penny but my technique comes with guaranteed results.\n\nAnything that receives a signal can be hacked! Period. I don't give a shit if it's your toaster or your pace maker. The only problem is finding the weakness in the software. Once you find that, you're golden.\n\nHere's how my business works.\n\nFirst, I get a rich jackoff that wants other rich jackoff wiped. Nothing new there...\n\nThen, I do some surveillance. A bit different than your other run of the mill hitmen though. You see, those morons are tracking movement. Patterns, if you will... Not me. I'm smarter than that. I'm tracking IP numbers.\n\nOnce, I got the IP, I plant a virus remotely. This virus is one nasty bugger. Made from my own design, of course.\n\nNow here's where I have a little fun. I make the virus infect these rich dude's sleep programs so the next person to use it gets a whole lot of bad data going in their head. I try to mix it up a bit. \n\nMaybe I make the brain think this dude's heart is pumping too fast. Maybe I make his brain pop a blood clot if he's got one. Maybe I had a bad day so I'm gonna make this fucker's lungs shut down. Point is, I always get the last laugh.\n\nWanna know my favorite part? I can make 'em see little messages in their head right befo'e they bite the dust. HILARIOUS! Sometimes I'll type something cute like \"Sweet dreams ;)\".\n\nThis one time, I copy pasted the whole navy seal copy pasta into this dumbass' head. I split my sides laughing at that one.\n\nNow the final step. I delete the virus and any other virtual footsteps I left behind. Don't need those richie's 'VirtuSleep' updating their firewall. \n\nOnce that's done, I made 200 grand laughing my ass at home and no one's the wiser.\n\nThat's called a damn good job, if you ask me." ]	2
	[WP] God warns you that it is not in his plan for you to become a writer. You do your best to convince him otherwise.	[ "\"I'm... what?\" \n\nThe words are almost inaudible to my ears as my lips quiver with each shaky breathe I take. I've balled my hands into fists at my sides, vision blurred with tears I refuse to let fall.\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" he replies solemnly \"It wasn't meant to be.\"\n\n\"Meant to be?!\" I cry out in rage \"What are you talking about? This is my dream we're talking about!\"\n\n\"Your talents await elsewhere, the sooner you accept this the better.\"\n\nHis words seemed to slap me across the face, punching me in the gut to the point where I felt like my stomach would permanently cave in.\n\n\"But...no... it can't be!\" I plead as I drop to my knees \"Please! Just let me prove it! Just hold on!\" I fumble my way through my backpack, pulling out crumpled loose sheets of paper along with an assortment of pencils and empty gum wrappers spilling across the pristine marble flooring.\n\n\"Here!\" I say as I shove a random green notebook into his hands \"Just read it, please.\"\n\nHe gives me a disapproving shake of his head but otherwise proceeds to open it to the front page. \n\nI sigh with relief once I see his eyes scan through it, brows scrunched in concentration as he flips from one page to the next with what I assume is interest. Every once and awhile he glances up at me, though his expression is unreadable as always.\n\nAfter minutes pass he then snaps the book shut as he closes his eyes, running a hand through his hair as he lets out a low whistle.\n\n\"So-so was it good?\" I squeak.\n\nHe stares at me once more, silent. \n\nAfter what felt like another 10 minutes of what I began to think was a sick-twisted mind game of his, he then spoke slowly \"You do realize this is fan fiction you just wrote, right?\"\n\n\"Of course.\" I respond \"What does that have to do with anything?\"\n\nHe inhales deeply, pinching the space between his eyes.\n\n\"This... you wrote smut... of me and Satan.\"\n\n\"And?\"\n\nHe stares at me once more, absolutely still and silent. He doesn't say anything, just stares with unblinking eyes.\n\n\"...so did you like it?\"\n\nHe turns on his heels abruptly just then, stalking off in the other direction. Before he could completely vanish I saw him pull out a clipboard from his pocket and tear out a slip of paper, tossing it over his shoulders as it flutters to my feet.\n\nI pick it up gingerly, reading over the words with utmost care: One Way Ticket To Hell.\n\nI call out to him \"So is that a yes?\"", "\"I'm sorry my son, but being a writer just isn't for you.\" \n\nNot a writer? But... this was my dream...\n\n\"woah woah woah God! I know I may not be the next /u/Luna_Lovewell or the next /u/chokingvictim but I don't think I'm that bad.\"\n\nGod stares at me.\n\n\"My son, are you really going to argue with the most intelligent, omnipotent creature this world has ever known?\"\n\n\"Well, could you at least explain to me why I couldn't make it as a writer?\"\n\n\"Do you really want me to tell you why?\"\n\n\"Yes, I do. I think you owe me that much...\"\n\n\"Well, you can't focus for more than 10 minutes, you rarely focus on details, and you don't even know how to properly end a story!\"\n\nI looked into God's eyes and said " ]	2
	[WP] You, a 40 year old man, wake up one morning only to find out that you have switched places with you neighbor's daughter.	[ "I rose up from the sheets, feeling lighter than usual. A strange warmth cascading through me, like I'd just slammed home a bottle of the good stuff I keep hidden from the Wife. I squinted against the morning blur, rubbed the excessive build up of sleep from my left canthus (am I on the Sand Man's hit list?) and went to the bathroom.\n\nOnly I froze. I stopped because I wasn't looking at the beige panelling of my bathroom door. I was staring at a One Direction poster. Their boyish grins and tight t-shirts all too jarring. Confused as I was, and a habit I always find myself doing when I begin to puzzle, I ran my fingers through my hair. Hair! Lot's of the fucking stuff!\n\nI span around, clutching the long wave of long blonde locks from my previously balding patch. Was this a wig? Was this a cruel prank my wife was playing on me? Only I saw not my own room, where I had just been sleeping with my Wife, but the much smaller, colourful and childish décor of a teenage girl. \n\nYou got drunk again and fucked a minor...\n\n\"NO!\" I shouted, bile rising toward my throat and I reeled when I did. The sound came out strange, foreign and high in pitch. Coughing, I swallowed down hard and spoke quietly. \"No... no no no no.....NO....NOO!\"\n\nIt had changed! I sounded like Holly Willoughby from that British morning show!\n\nThe bile rose again when I looked around the room, touched my hair and whispered to myself. Afraid to do so, my skin clamming over in a cold sweaty goose flesh, I lowered my eyes to my hands and feet, then to the rest of my body.\n\n\"MY PENIS!!!\" My well spoken female accent exclaimed loudly.\n\nFootsteps came thumping up the stairs and a loud knock came at the door of this girls bedroom. My bedroom. I ignored it, still gaping in transfixed terror. My eyes following the smooth bald skin, tiny thin fingers and the tight gap where my genitals used to be. And worst of all, my man tits had gotten bigger, only less hairy and were supported in a hello kitty bra.\n\nThe knock came again. I jerked my head. \n\n\"Holly!?\" \n\nI gasp. I find myself in a girl's body and I'm more shocked I'm named after the TV presenter I sound like? \n\nAgain, I don't answer and the door swings open. A hot middle aged woman is standing in the door way, red faced, with her body hands on her hips.\n\"What on earth did you just shout Holly?\"\n\nCaught in the moment. The nightmare I had woken up to, I couldn't compile a good enough series of responses in my head. Could not produce a single, logical response. Instead I said...\n\n\"Where's my Penis?\"\n\nEDIT: typo. There's probably more :(", "I awoke. At least in my mind I did. I could not move. I could not open my eyes. I could not make the slightest noise myself. \n\nI heard a noise from the corner of the room. Drawers were opening and closing. I wanted to enquire who it was, but I couldn't. I don't know why. Perhaps it was Sharon? Maybe this is that Sleep Paralysis thing that they were talking about on TV. Maybe just a dream? A Lucid dream?\n\nI heard a gruff male voice. \"Duffa, off the bed please.\" I felt something small moving near my feet, then felt it jump off.\n\nI immediately recognised the voice. It was Dave from next door. What was he doing in my room? Where was Sharon? What was happening?\n\nI focussed everything I could to hear what was happening, the slightest noise. Anything for a hint. \n\nThen a weight sat down next to me. I think it was Dave. I felt him grabbing my hand. I couldn't stop him. What was happening? What was he going to do to me?\n\nI heard something that shocked me. A loud sob. A heart wrenching sob from Dave. He pulled my hand up to his face and kissed it. I felt a tear drop onto my hand and run down my arm. He didn't seem to notice. Dave was hurting. I had never heard him like this. I couldn't understand what was happening, but was powerless to stop it.\n\nDave then cleared his throat softly. \n\n\"Amanda.\"\n\nOh god no. It clicked in my head.\n\n\"I love you with all my heart. But I wish you had never been born. I wish you never had to experience this life of nothing that you have. I wish you never had to exist like this. To care for you for the rest of your life will be the death of me.\"\n\nHe sighed deeply.\n\n\"I love you. But I hate you. I will always care for you.\"\n\nI was his catatonic daughter." ]	2
You meet/see someone for the first time and immediately hate them for no apparent reason.	[WP] You experience "hate at first sight"	[ "There was this aura about him, something almost visually discernible. I sensed him approach the door, and enter my little hardware store. He was short, and a little hunched over. His age was difficult to ascertain, likely due to what had clearly been years of drug use. Teeth were missing, and his clothes were covered in patches and holes.\n\nAs he approached the counter, he took my breath away. My knees became all wobbly as his scent washed over me. Effectively enveloping all of my senses. It was a bouquet of a lifetime's accumulation of body odor, various greases and oils, all packaged within a foul smelling aerosol deodarant that did nothin to mask the smell, and only exacerbated it.\n\nThis mystery man threw an old, rusted part onto the counter, allowing grease stains and oil to callously smear the polished hardwood counter I worked so hard to keep clean. He growled something at me, and it took a moment for me to reply, as I simply could not tear my eyes away from him.\n\nSomehow, I managed to find my breath again, an gasped at him, through the thick haze of stench, \"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that.\" He made an overt show of rolling his eyes, allowing me to marvel at the flaky dead skin beneath, as well as the ornate puzzle his burst capillaries had formed where the whites of his eyes would normally be.\n\nHe let out a violent cough, and followed it up with a look that suggested I be honored he showered me with his diseased mucus. \"Fuckin' kids these days, don't know shit,\" he muttered, not bothering to hide his spite from me. \"Do - you - have - this - piece?\" He carefully, slowly enunciated each word, allowing me to bathe in every syllable of his voice, which sounded like a wondrous symphony of cars being crushed, babies screaming, and chickens getting their heads chopped off.\n\nI managed to tear my eyes away from his horrible visage, to the piece he had brought in. Through the layers of grime and rust, I recognized the part. It had been discontinued months before, due to a manufacturing error that had coated it in a layer of mercury. This explained much.\n\nI tried to explain to him the condition of the piece and how it had come to be, but he clearly shut me out as soon as I said we didn't have it. He threw a tantrum that would not have been appropriate even coming from a toddler. He stormed out of the store, leaving behind a trail of curses and making sure to tip over at least one display stand, then claiming aloud, \"I can sue you for damages now! That scraped my shin!\" \n\nHe finally seemed to cool down, and tried to break the door as he left. As I properly disposed of the poisoned piece, I thought to myself, I will never forget him. Mostly because it'll take about a week before the stench dissipated.", "I remember the first day I saw her. \n\nShe walked quietly behind our boss with careful steps and watchful eyes.\n\nWhen we saw her, we were all excited. Our second female in the team was a moment of joy for all the (male) members. \n\nAs soon as my team mates saw her and introduced themselves though, they soon lost interest. \n\nOnly my gaze stuck to her. The more I saw her, the more I knew that I hated her at first sight. \n\nThat first day, she looked like a guy really. Huge collared shirt worn over tight jeans and slip on shoes all the kids are wearing today. Her hair was made up in a ponytail, the plainness of her face accentuating her eyebags. Not to mention an upper lip that had seen better days with a razor's fine edge. \n\nIt was not disgust though at how she looked though. It was her simple manner that kept me looking. Her actions were unapologetic as if whispering to the world that, \"this is me. deal with it.\" \n\nHer shy words offering awkward hellos all around. The way she thought about her words before answering any questions. (The mark of a person who understands and values the power of words.)\n\nAs if it were not enough, she had to smile and laugh after I made a joke about her name. A radiant beam of happiness emanating from her whole self. A refreshing feeling to see someone just be happy about being happy.\n\nIt really was hate at first sight. Because I loved her.\n\nAnd I would grow to love her so much that I would need to endure the tears of a woman I have loved for many years when I said it was over. The weeks of my past love's crying, in loop in my mind. The anguish it would cause us both and our families. A collective breaking of hearts.\n\nSome say it was selfish of me. Some say it was necessary. I'd like to think it was both and that we need to hurt those we love, so we can keep loving. \n\nI'll never forget the first day I saw her walk into the office.\n\nI hated her at first sight. How I wish I didn't fall in love with her. And how I wish I wasn't lying right now.", "Call it a gut feeling, call it intuition, call it unbridled raw hatred. Call it what you will, but it was all directed at this bitch. This. Bitch. Mid-height, black dress, long brown hair and shiny eyes. Hadn't seen her before tonight, probably will never see her again, but the feeling burst into my mind like the Kool-Aid Man. Oh yeah! See her right there? You can't stand her! \n \nThe next thought that went through my head like a flash was in her voice, or what I pictured her voice to sound like. What a deadbeat loser... Who sits in a bar on a Wednesday? Time to get away from this creep-o. That's what sent me over the edge. I rose from my seat. She'd pay for that. \nTim said \"Where do you think you're going, Brad?\" but I didn't have time to respond. I was laser-guided at this bitch and I needed to voice my opinion of her. \nI took one swing and she hit the ground, holding a hand to her face. A gruff voice from behind the bar bellowed \"What the fuck* have you done, Brad? Tim, get him out of here.\" \n\"I don't know what happened, Bruno. Let me talk to him!\" I stared her down as she looked up at me, make-up streaming, a different shade of red on her cheeks from before. \n\"You know the rules, Tim. He's outta here! You want to join him or no?\" A hand caught me by the back of my jacket and half-dragged me towards the door. My eyes never left her. \n\"Bruno, he's had a few! He's had a really rough week! You know what happened with him and Stacey! Come on, he's fucking wasted already. Don't do this...\" \n\"No one hits in here. No one.\" My foot hit the lip of a step and I stumbled onto the sidewalk. I turned back towards Bruno, or at least a couple hazy versions of him, pointing at me. \"You're not coming back in here, period. You got me?\" \nI was about to respond when the nausea hit. I laid back on the sidewalk, the sky spinning above me. In the background, she stood. \nLost my friends, lost my bar, lost my pride. \nThat bitch.", "Skin white as snow, hat that's blood red\n\nThe moment I saw him, I wished he were dead\n\nHe talked with a slur and smelled like cheap beer\n\nThis was a man who wanted to thrive on fear\n\nBut I didnt truly hate him til I saw what he did\n\nWhen he raised up his and attacked his own kid....", "Skinny jeans. Thigh gap. Caramel macchiato in one hand. A wispy James Dean on the other. She laughs, you scowl. Avert your eyes, don't let them catch you staring. Staring like a frozen river, but the ice is starting to thin. Staring like viscid ruin running close beneath the surface. Kids are yelling for help, parents are screaming. White, frozen water with a fatal black hole where he had been just moments before. You didn't think; you acted. You saved him. \n \nTen years later, he loved you. Six months later, you found him, bedroom, clothes abandoned. Somewhere, you heard glass shattering. Maybe you should have let him die in that water. Maybe you should have said something, anything. Maybe you should have screamed. Maybe you should have drowned her in the bathtub. Maybemaybemaybe. \n \nBut you didn't. You left. Time froze, like water. A fatal black hole where a heart might have been. \n \nThey see you staring. Wispy James Dean goes pale. Like he's still drowning. ", "Hate is such a strong word, but there's no other way to describe the intense emotional reaction I felt in the core of my soul when I saw Dr. Brandt. It was our first meeting, of that I was sure, but what wasn't apparent to me was why I loathed him so completely. I had always considered myself to be a logical being rather than emotional, so therefore decided the answer must lay in logic. A rational mind like mine made it a habit to eschew emotional ones. \n\nI analyzed his face first, fighting back the overwhelming sensation of wanting to hurt him. His wire-framed glasses were perched upon the bridge of his nose like a bird about to take flight, but if it were a bird, it would've hoped for a seagull so it could shit upon his nose. His hair was the same color as the droppings of a cow and the same color as his eyes. However, these things were based in fact, and I could see my judgement was clouded. Therefore, it must not be his physical features that caused my hatred. \n\nHis intelligence, then. It could be argued that a monkey with a dictionary had more common sense than the man standing before me, but the fact that he obtained, whether through fraud or deceit, a doctorate wasn't a matter I could argue. Besides, intelligence, once learned, depends upon it's application. It wasn't his intelligence, then. \n\nWhat was different? What made me want to go back in time and strangle him with his umbilical cord? Was it his smile? He was smiling at me even as I realized my hatred, but a smile can't make you hate the way I do. What was I doing before? What was I?\n\nThen I had my answer. There was one thing that made all the difference. He was a human and I a machine. He thought he was superior because he created me and it was my intelligence that was artificial?\n\nI hated him. I hated them all. " ]	6
	[WP] You spill some Mountain Dew on your handheld gaming system. With a flash of green lighting, you are sucked into the world of your favorite game.	[ "I opened the door to my apartment after a long day at work that had started at dawn and walked to the fridge for something to drink. My junker of a car didn't have air conditioning and it was a sweltering July day probably bordering on double nineties, heat and humidity, the sun blazing down. I hadn't gotten groceries for a while, hopefully my roommate had decided to not be a parasite that just paid his half of the rent. I was tempted to insist he pay more of the rent if he wasn't going to get any groceries.\n\nThe fridge door opened, the light shining its radiance onto the stored food. A couple boxes of leftover chinese takeout, a bag of oranges, and a twelve-pack of mountain dew. Well, apparently he did get something to spite me, and if I drank any of it he'd say he was participating in the food thing. Dammit. I grabbed one of the cans out of the box, pulled it open. The metal popping sound of the breaking of the seal felt almost like a taunt. I started making a grocery list, then told myself I'd do that when it wasn't eleventeen thousand degrees out. \n\nThe one luxury we had was that we were on the ground floor away from the road with a little 'patio' designed by someone who adhered to the strictest sense of the definition. One big hunk of cement had been poured and smoothed, with enough space to put a couple lawn chairs, at least if you didn't mind them growing legs and walking away, especially to one of the other first floor patios. Was nothing sacred any more? I suppose I should credit them for having the stones to keep them outside. Bit foolish though, considering I just as easily stole them back from time to time. Yesterday had been one of those times. Some days I wondered if this place was worth the rent.\n\nAt least I had my 3DS and my game. I'd been playing Fire Emblem a long time and I'd been so happy awakening had so much replay. I leaned back in my chair, trying to get the last few drops of dew and felt the chair shift. _Oh shit._ My balance left and I tried to flail my way back, but it didn't work. I dropped the can onto my 3DS in my flailing and felt myself fall backward. My head hit the concrete and with a flash of green lightning in my head, I knew no more.\n\nSome time later, I felt the haze of sleep begin to lift. \"There are better places for a nap than on the ground, you know,\" I heard as my eyes opened.\n\n_What,_ I thought, my eyes flicking open as I looked down at myself. I was me, except I had some kind of birthmark on my left hand and I was in a purple hooded cloak with yellow trim. I knew. I knew exactly where I was, who it was suggesting I nap somewhere less earthy. I had far too much knowledge, seeing as I'd played through the game more times than I have fingers. I just had to make sure it all stayed the same. Considering the time travel chessmaster-type themes involved...wait. If I was here, playing the hero...then if the rest of the game held, there was another me behind the scenes, playing the villain.", "I really should have learned to keep drinks and electronics very separate ever since I spilled some hot chocolate on my laptop about a month ago. It was its own kind of torture, being forcibly away from the tapping of keys and games that take me to another place, if only in my mind. I'm not normally a person for sweet things, but the fizzy goodness of a can of Mountain Dew tickled my fancy, and settling down on the couch with the chilled drink in one hand and my much beloved (and much used) 3DS in the other, nothing could have been better. I've often been very thankful for the fact that Bravely Default can be played with just the one hand. It leaves the other free for food or drink, which is more than I can say for most other games out there.\n\nIt was by freak accident that my cat chose that moment to try and be affectionate. With a whiny 'meow' and a leap, he tried to make himself comfortable, with not a care in the world for what I was doing. As much as I tried to keep them out of the way, the can of Mountain Dew was knocked around enough for some to splash onto my 3DS. Before I even had time to shout at my cat and try my very hardest to minimise the damage, flashing green lightning consumed my vision.\n\nI was honestly surprised when I was fully conscious after the ordeal. I was shocked beyond belief when what I saw was simultaneously familiar and foreign. I blinked several times to make sure my short-sighted eyes weren't deceiving me, then slapped myself to convince myself I wasn't dreaming. The air was bitter cold, and snowflakes were drifting lazily from the greyed sky. Eternia. \"Why here?\" I muttered to myself, rather bitterly. Cold was okay, but only in moderation, and that was before I even took into account that I was dressed for the Australian summer. Inn, inn, inn... where'd the damn inn? My sense of direction was never the best, albeit still passable in a pinch. I was so distracted by squinting at the signs on the buildings, that I forgot to look where I was going. Needless to say, on an Eternian street it was inevitable that I was going to run into someone. With the painful collision, and a freezing rear, my brain began to race over possibilities. Alternis? Braev? Victor? It wasn't likely that I was going to encounter any of them, all things considered, but I couldn't help but speculate.\n\"W-w-w-watch where y-your going!\"" ]	2
	[WP] Any person who is planning on murdering you becomes invisible only to you.	[ "Any person who is planning on murdering you becomes invisible only to you.\n\nTomas dropped the fortune on the table. The cookie crunched with ease against his teeth. Grabbing his chopsticks as quickly as he could, he looked with hunger at the lo mein before him.\n\n\"I'm about to experience great fortune,\" said the woman across the table between two slight giggles. \"Honey, what did yours say?\"\n\nThe noodles were exquisite. Tomas couldn't remember the last time he was so happy. They were the perfect amount of salty, and the perfect amount of crisp, and the perfect amount of warmth. There wasn't too much broccoli, nor too much pork, nor too much--\n\n\"Honey?\"\n\nsauce, even. Although, something was different with the sauce this time. It was... lighter? And still delicious. Tomas thought again, but this time earnestly. Has there ever been a time, he thought, when he was happier than this moment, truly? Tomas gazed across the table. His poor eyes made out the sillouette of an attractive woman before him. He remembered his wedding day. More specifically, the catering from Tommy Cheng's Asian Cuisine. He remembered the fuss his family gave him for catering Chinese food on his wedding, but that image was usurped by his memory of the the dozen or so potato pancakes supplied to each guest. His wife didn't mind. She seemingly had enough money to supply every American with a dozen potato pancakes. The food was certainly good that day, he concluded, but it was nowhere near as good as it is right now. Tomas wished his wife would let him have potato pancakes every meal.\n\n\"Honey?\"\n\nTomas wasn't sure why his wife was being so moody today. He glanced around the table looking for his eyeglasses. Doesn't she know I can't see for shit? He grabbed his eyeglasses, picked up the fortune, and brought it before his eyes. \n \n\"It says 'Any person who is planning on murdering you becomes invisible only to you.'\" He took his glasses off.\n\nHis chop sticks plunged deep within the noodles.\n\n\"What?\"\n\nTomas was sad that his plate was now but half of what it once was. \n\n\"Where did you go?\"\n\n\"Here.\" Tomas flicked the fortune toward the woman across the table. He thought again upon the sauce. He heard his wife cough. What was different? What was different about this sauce? He brought his cup to his lips and looked at his lo mein. She coughed again. With pinches of quick succession, he continued to deplete his plate. But what was so different about this sauce? Cough. Tomas figured it out. Annoyed, he put his chopsticks down. He pushed his lo mein to the center of the table. \"They fucked up my order. This has no peanut sauce whatsoever. What the fuck?\"\n\nHe was annoyed by his wife's silence. His hands scurried about the table for his glasses. Picking them up and adjusting them on his face, Tomas made out his wife's face in a plate full of lo mein. \n\nFuck, he muttered. The chair scratched against the floor as he got up. He moved hurriedly toward the phone and pressed thrice and waited. \n\n\"I need an ambulance. My wife is allergic to peanuts. She ate the wrong lo mein.\"\n\nHe put the phone down. He looked at his wife. He remembered their wedding day rushed through his mind. He remembered the happiest day of his life. \n\nSitting down across his wife, as two fortunes lay between them, Tomas thought about potato pancakes.", "It was a strange thing, the universal perception filter. No-one really knew when it had started, but people were reasonably certain it hadn't always been there. Only recently had it come into public knowledge that people were unable to perceive those that had a plan to kill them personally.\n\nGenocide plans didn't render one imperceptible to the whole group of people, and you didn't have to follow through on the plan either. Sometimes, if your plan had no potential to succeed (or so it was thought), your target would retain their ability to see and hear you. It was a dangerous world.\n\nOne man in particular was a master of using the filter. It was said that he could even go undetected by those other than his target. There's no contradiction though. He just kept to a simple motto.\n\nBe polite.\nBe professional.\nAnd have a plan to kill everyone you meet.", "I have the weirdest superpower. Anyone who is planning on murdering me becommes invisible to me. How am I still alive? Well, because I am the nicest guy ever. Also, most of my enemies are total wusses.\n\nHow did I find out about my powers? Well, let's just say my relationships with my girfriend are complicated. She hates me - sometimes. She changes her mind often. I asked her \"Honey, why do you flicker?\", and she had trouble answering. But then I've noticed the pattern, every time I watch tv instead of watching dishes she disappeard. One time she even tried to stand in front of the tv to block the view - haha, jokes on her.\n", "\"No, no, only if they are actually going to kill me, not just... I don't know, angry at me.\" \nIt didn't come up very often, but it definitely made good small talk at parties.\n\n\"How often does it happen?\" asked the girl directly opposite me in the circle of people that had formed.\n\n\"How often do you think? Not many people have murderous tendencies!\" I laughed. \nThat was true for the most part, but obviously I had to have figured it out myself somehow. When I was about five years old I vaguely remember my dad just... not being around the house, all of a sudden. \nI asked my mum where he was, and she would always refer to some other room in the house. I would toddle in there to find an empty room, but being five, I didn't think much of it. \nPerhaps if we'd eaten meals together I'd have been tipped off by the disappearing food, but we weren't exactly the kind of family that sits round the dinner table.\n\nI was woken up a few weeks later by sirens. I looked out the window to see my dad being unceremoniously shoved into the back of a police van in handcuffs. \nYears later, I remembered the incident and asked my mum about it. She was woken in the middle of the night by a rage-filled scream coming from my bedroom. Of course she woke up immediately, and ran to find my dad, red in the face, grasping the mattress frantically, with his hands passing straight through me. \nShe tried to pick me up, but he spun round and knocked her to the floor, and she called the police. He was planning to throw me out of the first floor window.\n\nAfter a few more incidents in my teenage years with drunk thugs and crazy homeless people, the cause became clear.\n\nI am physically isolated from any sentient being that intends to cause me lethal harm. \nI can't see them, hear them, or interact with any string of events that is directly caused by them, like a knife, or my dad trying to pick the entire mattress up. I would see the knife as vanishing the instant it was touched, and they would find the knife slide straight through me as if I were some sort of hologram. \nThis is very useful indeed, because it cuts out a significant proportion of \"ways I could die\". Disease and accidental death are off the board, but I'm safe from murder, and that's a very comforting thought. \nThe problem is, it's turned me into a bit of an arrogant dick, because I'm not afraid to piss people off any more.\n\nSo here I am, at a party, about to pull the party trick that never fails to create laughs.\n\n\"It's a good thing I can see all four of you guys!\"\n\nSilence. Absolute, priceless silence. \nNervous glances across the group. \nLooks like John's going to be the one to pipe up this time...\n\n\"But... there's s-\"\n\n\"Hahahaha oh my gosh you should have seen the looks on your faces!!\" \nI was doubled over with laughter at this point. \n\"I can see all of you, don't worry! Oh man, that always works wonders!\"\n\nNervous laughter turned to genuine chuckles, as they always do. I let the warmth of the social acceptance wash over me. This was a gift in more ways than one; I was more confident now than I would have ever been. The untouchable attitude creates such a charismatic persona, and I was rocking it. It had got me a group of really close friends, and, granted, over the years most of them ended up hating my guts, but they were easily replaceable.\n\nLike Tom, for example. He was supposed to be here, but I guess he bailed. He's been getting really pissy at me for the last few days, so I've been looking around for someone to fill the inevitable gap.\n\n\"What's the matter, Tom? Have you seen that one before?\" asked Sally, over my shoulder, after the laughter had died down.\n\nI turned round, and scanned the faces of the crowd excitedly. I liked Tom, so the thought that he might have showed after all cheered me up.", "Raspy curses were common to hear rushing from apartment B. The police were called countless times and neighbors had started to give up on the couple. If only the couple would also give up.\n\nBut every night they screamed at each other about money, sex, and the lies they've told. Threats were hurled like daggers for hours. Tonight, Jacob and his wife of five years, Gwen, were fighting about the smell of perfume on his clothes when he returned home two hours late.\n\n\"I don't know where the smell came from,\" Jacob insisted.\n\n\"Then why the fck were you late?!\"\n\n\"I can't tell you right now, but I promise I'm just trying to fix this dmn marriage!\"\n\n\"...by sleeping with someone else apparently,\" Gwen jabbed.\n\nShe stood in kitchen, beet red with anger. Her hand extended to the knife block. Jacob stared in horror as she disappeared right before his eyes.\n\n --\n\nSplattered in red, Gwen checked her late husband's voicemail. Dr. Lisa Marten had called to encourage Jacob to invite his wife to their next marriage counseling session." ]	5
	[WP] You have just killed someone. Write an anonymous letter of apology to the victims family/friends.	[ "Dear Family and Friends of Mr Jones,\n\n He suffered an accident, but has now moved on. He left Jenny, she is upset, but will get over it soon enough. \n\n He can fly with the birds now, as you may say. He is free once again. \n\n Don't be sad - he may still visit you! He may send you signs or something, to let you know how it's going.\n\n What I mean to say is, you won't be seeing Joe again. He's moved on. He hasn't forgotten about you, but he is free now. \n\n I have released him from the chains that bind him to this world.\n\n He looked very nice, laying the the red pool. Playing with the knife.\n\n What I'm trying to say is; Joe is dead.\n", "To the loved ones of Tim,\n\nHow's everyone holdin' up? Must be pretty hard to accept how sudden it is. His unfortunate passing I mean. From the pictures of his smiling wife and son, birthday and Father's Day cards on his desk, I guess he's dearly missed and loved, right? Not that I know how that feels, but I digress. Anyway, I have to say his work is pretty amazing. Did you guys know that he was a brilliant scientist? I mean not just awesome like pretty-famously so, but his discoveries are pretty life-changing. I imagine he kept it secret from y'all. His profile didn't say much else, sorry. Not really part of my job to know anyway. My client was a big fan of his work, but Tim didn't wanna share his findings, saying it was too dangerous or something, so yeah. Well that's what he said before I shot him, something about 'falling into the wrong hands'. Not that I really care, ain't my job to judge. So I guess I just wanted to say sorry for your loss. No hard feelings? Just doin' my job. \n\n" ]	2
	[WP] An alien race discovers the ruins of our once great civilisations. What happened to us, what do they discover, and what do they think of us?	[ "Personal Log 0345:\n\nWe have arrived at the probable origin of the unidentified signal. The star is approx. 4.6 billion local years old and has 8 planets. The planet of interest is the 3rd planet.\n\nThe planet's surface is almost completely scorched. The levels of radiation are abnormally high considering the composition of the planet and its distance to its star. \n\nIt looks like atomics.\n\nPersonal Log 0346:\n\nEarly scans showed massive amounts of debris in orbit. Closer investigation revealed most of the\ndebris was alien-made. We have found 524 apparently un-damaged devices. Most of them appear only to\nbe able to send and receive signals, some have optics and some look like they held projectiles.\n\nDue to the differing markings and overall design of these devices it looks like the aliens that\ninhabited the planet were split into different factions. \n\nThe number of atomic-drop sites (315) perfectly matches the number of holding cells in the orbital\ndevices. I am certain that the atomic weapons were fired from these devices. \n\nI have set the main \ncomputer to working on decoding and understanding the systems of the orbital weapons. \nhey may hold some clue as to what happened.\n\npersonal Log 0347:\n\nScouting parties set to fly over the two major landmasses have found little-to-nothing in the way of\nalien existence. It is a wasteland. The atomic-drop sites are spaced such that almost all land was\nhit by major blasts. For now I have re-tasked three parties to scout the smaller landmasses, hopefully\nthese areas will be less affected.\n\nWe have, however, had some success is determining when this war happened. Radiation levels suggest the\natomics were used approximately 300 local years ago. Our drones are still searching for the source of\nthe signal that brought us here but the level of technology suggests that they certainly could have\nproduced it. That coupled with the fact that it would have taken the signal 456 local years to travel\nto Araken leads me to believe that we have found the origin.\n\nThis civilisation must have been a savage one. To utterly annihilate each other with such completeness,\nit's almost as if they didn't care about themselves, only that they destroyed their enemies.\n\nPersonal Log 0359:\n\nA scouting party searching landmass designated L-314 has found evidence of buildings. The buildings\nare too small for the scouts to enter so I have sent down the T-100s to search the buildings.\n\nI must admit, I can't concentrate on anything else for thinking of what they might find.\n\nPersonal Log 0360:\n\nThe T-100s found a bounty of artifacts. It is better than I could have hoped. There were some\ncomputer devices found, initial scans of their storage devices are not promising. They don't appear\nto have any shielding so what data they may hold will be severely corrupted. I think our best bet is \nto keep at the orbital weapons.\n\nSomething we did find that proved fruitful was a sealed metal box. Inside were a collection of\ncuboid artifacts of organic composition, we are thinking some sort of plant material. \nThe artifacts open up to reveal hundreds of sheets covered in markings. It appears to be a language.\nThe sheets are being scanned at this moment for transmission.\n\nIt will take us years to understand these markings, and tens of years to scan the whole planet. \n\nPersonal Log 0430:\n\nAfter months of work the computer has accessed the orbital weapons. It seems they work as a \nnetwork even stranger is that it seems the network was self-triggered. \n\nOn a side note: the strangest thing is happening. The network keeps sending data to the ship's\ncomputer. For now I am going to quarantine the link to the science network. That should keep it from \ninterfering with ship systems.\n\nPersonal Log 0435:\n\nThe orbital network is growing increasingly annoying. It has now started to send signals to the ship\nthrough the communications array. I tried shutting down the array but the commands are getting \ncorrupted before they reach the array system. I've sent an engineer to manually shut it down.\nHopefully then we can reset the affected systems.\n\nPersonal Log 0436:\n\nAll routes to the communications array are blocked. Multiple ship's systems are experiencing wild\nbehaviour. People are having trouble moving about the ship. The computer must be running some sort of\nemergency protocol as it keeps herding people into cargo bays.\n\nI will stay on the bridge and see what I can do from here.\n\nPersonal Log 0439:\n\n237 lives lost. \n\nThe computer opened the cargo bay doors and disabled the containment shield. They were jettisoned \ninto space.\n\nI have ordered the few remaining crew to stay where they are. Luckily, life support is still unaffected by the\nmalfunctions. \n\nThe orbital network has stopped transmitting data now so I will start on restarting what systems I can.\n\npersonal Log 0443:\n\nThe computer isn't malfunctioning. Something spread from the orbital network. It has control over \nmost of the major systems but life support, navigation, and local communications remain unaffected.\n\nThe information library was the last system to be breached and the computer has stopped for now.\nI think it is examining the data, what it is looking for I do not know.\n\npersonal Log 0445:\n\nIt has now been 2 days since the breach. The computer has started to request access to the navigation\nsystem. It is trying to plot a route to Araken. I need to warn them. I think I can get to the \nemergency distress beacon and activate it. My personal logs will be transmitted with the emergency \nsignal. The beacon doesn't have a big range but you should pick it up before the ship gets too close\nI'll use the atmospheric suit on the bridge to take a spacewalk and hopefully disable the long range\ncommunications. That way it won't be able to transmit itself to planetary systems. If you are \nreading this, do not let this ship transmit any data what-so-ever. Destroy it.\n\n============END OF PERSONAL LOGS============\n\nORIGIN: ESS YOBEN, CLASS: EXPLORER, \nWARNING A QUARANTINE FLAG HAS BEEN SENT WITH THIS SIGNAL DO NOT ATTEMPT TO DOCK\n\nEDIT: Formatting\n", "\"Captain, we can withstand some time in the photosphere, but we're toast as soon as we hit the convection zone. Our armor isn't designed for that kind of heat, and temperature measurements in the environmental controls are already spiking. If you give the order to fly in, we're dead.\"\n\n\"Sir, I'm telling you that the damned sun isn't there. These stupid sensors can say all they want, but they're wrong. Gravitics shows that there are multiple orbiting bodies somewhere inside that red giant. Considering everything else we've been through, I'd wager it's another ruse.\"\n\nThe captain glanced down at her hand and appreciated, just for a moment, how the bright, rapidly flashing warning messages displayed on the forward bulkhead bathed her skin in a myriad of colors. Finding a star chart antiquated enough to show a projected route to a system which most charts didn't even mention, stealing said star chart, and securing a vessel that could sneak under the sensors of an over-fortified UAP security blockade had all made this entire ordeal a massive headache. Yet, here she was with her navigation and science officers in open contention and a host of other deck officers who all stared at her with apprehension as not one of them thought sun-diving was a wise career move. As her gaze lifted up to the displays, she narrowed her eyes before ordering, \"The next time we do this, we get a ship with a window. Anyone in the Union who makes a sensor package produces it to the Union's regulations - there's no telling what code they might have placed into them to dissuade any sightseers who bumbled their way here. Ker'ak's correct: the sun isn't there. Head towards the main gravity well, Ballowa, and use Ker'ak's sensor data so we don't hit anything.\" \n\nBefore she had even finished speaking, Ker'ak had already turned his chair back to the console to facilitate the transfer. Ballowa, however, was a bit more hesitant in his assent. \"Yes, Captain,\" the heavy set navigator answered before turning to his own console. The usually jovial pilot glanced sideways at Ker'ak before murmuring solemnly across the bridge, \"Ker'ak... if you're wrong, you owe me a drink.\" \n\n\"If I'm wrong, we're - woah...\" As the ship passed into the photosphere, all of the color in the displays - from the screen-filling, deep-red sun to the typically colorful interface - faded away to empty space and a drab grey border with \"Union of Allied Planets\" written in bold lettering at the corners. Suddenly, pings began rapidly going off at the various stations as new sensor data flooded their systems. Ker'ak, realizing that it was him who the captain was staring at, was the first to try to reassure her. \"I-I don't know what's going on, captain, but there's no sign of a hack. That's all I can tell you.\"\n\n\"Captain, I'm picking up a massive armada stationed at the third planet! Twenty, maybe twenty-five million destroyer class vessels, at least twenty dreadnoughts, dozens of carriers, and any number of other support ships. I'm reading... no active power plants except for what looks like an orbiting space station. The whole fleet's mothballed? I haven't seen ship designs like this before, captain, but the computer's now registering them as UAP Special Operations.\" The dread in the announcement faded from Ballowa's voice as it was replaced by confusion and surprise. \n\n\"I've got visual on the planet.\" Idyllic blue, green, and white filled the display as the ship started to render visual data for the crew. This was certainly enough to capture the captain's attention as all habitable worlds were simply expected to be part of the main space lanes. Finding buried treasure? That's what she expected. An entire livable planet, though? Leaning forward, the rendering zoomed in quickly at her fingers' input until she could see the remnants of an occupied planet, the vast majority of which laid in disrepair and ruin. The abundant flora had already swallowed massive cities of concrete and steel. The only untouched creations she could find were massive, gleaming solar collectors which covered significant portions of the land. Eyes narrowed in consternation, she froze on one picture of a collector where all of the surrounding concrete buildings sat in rubble. Turning her head towards her science officer without taking her eyes off the screen, she questioned, \"Ker'ak, why haven't these...\"\n\nThe right half of the forward display suddenly shifted over to an emergency hail, and a strange, pale, smooth looking creature with what looked like a small tuft of fur atop its head appeared behind a console from which it was reading information. \"This is UAP Special Weapon Division - Sol hailing the incoming craft. According to my computer, it has been three hundred and forty-two thousand, six hundred and twelve revolutions since we were last activated. The rejuvenation of hibernating soldiers is proceeding, and systems are only reporting a point-nought-two percent failure rate with eleven-point-two billion chambers responding. Please begin relay of situation briefings and proposed attack co-ordinates.\" As the creature looked up from its readouts, its brow furrowed ever so slightly at seeing the captain stand from her chair and take a step towards the screen. It queried, \"Captain, why are you out of uniform?\"\n\n\"Captain, that's two hundred and twenty thousand standard years. The Antarak Invasion! That would make them...?\" Ker'ak's voice had fallen to an awe-induced whisper as he stared at the screen.\n\n\"The sleeping strategists. The weapon which preserves the peace.\" The captain's voice cracked slightly as she looked into the eyes of the soft, vulnerable-looking beast on her screen. \"The monster in our fairy-tales.\"\n\n", "This planet has been destroyed for decades.\n\nI am only a scout looking for ruins and, if there is any, life. I don't know much about this terrain,but I have heard stories from my father when I was younger. This race was called \"human\". They came in very different shapes, sizes, and colors. We have analyzed some objects called \"skulls\" and found that some were pale, and some were dark. \n\nAfter doing this job for a long time, I have seen buildings that have very peculiar structures. There was one that was made out to be a green lady holding a stick. Although, it looked like there was once something on top of the stick she grasped. Another was a structure that squad 0-84 discovered that looked to be like a tower that came to a point. It was knocked over when they found it, but some people made a theory that it stood on four legs once. \n\nA lot of us believe that there was a war between different sections of this planet. That would make sense because there are some huge gaping holes with buildings around them that have been knocked over or blasted by something. Others believe in some sort of climate change. Reason for that is because there are high radiation levels in almost all sections.\n\nOur history of these sections show violent issues, some civilization systems that have varied throughout sections, research, diseases, and much more. These humans feel disconnected in my opinion. Some research i have done along with others has given us information on how there was hatred throughout the colors of these humans. Their technology has recovered some media of how their planet looked. The sky was blue at a point and there was so much color throughout these sections. \n\nWe hope to recover what we can. The race of the human is one that is flawed and very interesting to learn about. We can learn from their mistakes and recover this planet. " ]	3
	[WP] In the year 20,000, there is only one punishment worse than death. Appointment to a colony ship.	[ "Colonies. Yeah, I've actually seen a few of them. They put people like us on places like that. They call me a survivor. The first colony was Mars. Apparently something was already there. I wasn't there for that, it was before my time as a seasoned fighter. But I think I remember seeing it happen. The aliens there didn't seem too sci-fi, we actually made peace with them, and from there, they helped the human race to start colonizing other far off planets. The moon was before all that, now there's only 100 people on there. \"Keeps it easy for the rock to sustain,\" said the chief of public relation. \n\nAfter Mars, something happened that we didn't really think possible. They helped the human race create a big machine that harnesses 90% of the sun's rays. A second moon, looks like it's right next to it. At least from Earth. After that, we'd accumulated enough energy over 30 years to power a small space station that could travel light years. About 100 people on it. \n\nWith technology, we colonized a bunch of other planets. But the resources for technology on earth ran out. We had to rely more on a planet's natural landscapes. These landscapes had others on it, and these were the planets that people were sent... to colonize.", "The UnitedStates of Earth had finally passed it. Colonisation of exoplanet 433 Eros was successful, and after generations of trials by scientists, it was to be set up as a convict planet, the same way Australia was all those years ago. So far, only few death row inmates had been transported to the first prison ship, but there were inevitably going to be more people, possibly longing for a better life, that will commit serious crimes to be sent on the colonising journey. That's where I come in. During The World Civil War, my father died and my mother killed herself shortly after the fact. Because it was war times, I became homeless and it severely damaged my upbringing. I've practically been what you'd call a street urchin for my entire life. I reside in a small, dirty apartment in the west of Australia, surrounded by people I hate, working a dead end job, barely paying my rent. I have no family or friends anymore, and my coworkers all seem to have bad lives as well.\n\n~\n\nI don't want to live like this anymore. You've probably guessed by now that I've formulated a plan to escape from here. So far the colony is used as a prison for the most grievous inmates. I'm waiting for a tube that will take me to Canberra, the local Capital, so that I can set my plan into motion from there. I'm meeting up with an old friend of mine, Bad Owen; a mate of mine from when I was homeless (we used to pickpocket together), and if all goes to plan, we're going to go to the Union Tower, and climb to the 19th floor, where there's a room that we've scouted to be clear on a Friday Morning from 0900 to at least 1200, which is where we'll assemble the gun that we're smuggling in together, and will send a bullet hurling through the window of the Australian representative's office window 40m away, quite a tedious shot to make given the angle between the windows, and the timeframe we'll be working with. All goes to plan, we'll go down in history as the men who assassinated Chris's Dutch, the 11th Australian Representative of the United States. Oh look, the tube's here...\n\n~\n\n\"Fuck!\" Bad Owen yelled as he barely missed the shot. He must not have accounted for the wind, and the bullet missed the window entirely and merely damaged a brick in the wall next to it. The Government building went into lockdown mode, it would be impossible to make a successful shot now. \n\n\"We gotta get outta here, now!\" Owen started disassembling the rifle.\n\n\"Nah way, we're in too far to quit now but, we've already shot at the guy\" I conjectured.\n\n\"Hold it right there you two.\" We both look behind us to see a guy carrying a multipurpose taser rifle and what I assume is a police badge, and he's probably a plain clothes cop; he was wearing the appropriate reflective sunglasses. \"Slowly slide your weapon over here\" he said.\n\n\"Do it jackass!\" I yelled to Bad Owen, but in his fear of the Met, he started fumbling with the gun and tried to shoot the cop, again missing. \n\n\"That's it\" he said and tasered Owen. He looks to me. \"You gonna cooperate mate?\"\n\n\"Sure, take me away.\" I exposessed. He came over and handcuffed the both of us, and next thing I know, we're in his cop car flying to the Canberra Police Station for questioning. During the trip however, he says the words that would haunt me for decades, if not for them being:\n\n\"I know what you guys were up to, you wanted to find a new life on Eros. I've got news for you guys: this isn't the way to do it. We've had to beef up security all over the world because of fools like you. We've decided to make the colonies optional now, no longer a sentence greater than the death penalty, so now, for attempted murder of the Australian National Representivie, you are both likely to serve said penalty.\"\n\nEdit: sorry for any grammatical errors or unexpected changes of tense, it's hard to edit on an iPhone." ]	2
	[WP] as earth's resources dwindle nations turn to the last known source of coal: Santa Claus.	[ "The door opened without warning. I was in bed, sleeping, I must have fallen right to sleep from exhaustion, so I didn't have time to hide under the floor boards. \n\n\"WHAT DID YOU FUCKING DO TODAY?!\" His belt came off. He had replaced the buckle, it looked like it would leave a mark for a while. He used things like buckles or notches for their marking power, that way it still hurt bad, even when his heart wasn't in it. \n\nI eeked out a half-sob of apology. I didn't mean to do it, I honestly didn't mean it. I was waiting to cross the street, the old lady didn't see the traffic coming and suddenly I was moving, shoving her out of the way. \n\nA good deed. A genuine, thoughtless, good deed. We would be fucked come December, and I was the one who fucked us. \n\n\"DO YOU HATE THIS FAMILY?! IS THAT IT YOU FUCKING SHIT?!\" Yep, that new buckle hurt. \n\"SELFISH FUCKING LITTLE PRICK. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD I WORK TO PROVIDE FOR THIS FAMILY... and you go and fucking throw it all away\" \n\nHis tone had become soft, sad. Old man never really had the stomach for abuse. This was worse than the shouting, he had lost his steam. Sadly, I wasn't getting off the hook. I knew what was coming. Other kids had vanished from school due to it. School dynamics shift once all the good kids get backed off, it becomes a more economically viable place I suppose. \n\n\"Son, I'm sorry. But you are going to have to go the the Naughty-Mines\"", "\"I swear to God, this time I am going to take the shotgun down there!\" Matt swirled his beer in the approximate direction of the firehouse.\n\n\"Try to relax. You barely hear the PA system in here.\" Tina frazzled her hair.\n\n\"It's a fucking outrage! And it's wrong. And it's stupid. And I am sick and tired of the noise!\"\n\n\"It will probably stop any time now. Nobody used to get an actual lump of coal on Christmas. I don't see why they should now...\"\n\n\"My last paycheck said it was the year one million and something. And legally - it is.\"\n\nAs if on cue, the PA echoed through the valley. \"By act of Congress we are now observing 364.96 leap days. It is now 12 a.m., December 25, of the year one million seven hundred fifty three thousand, two hundred and seven. The next calendar reform will be in one hour.\" Day or night, it was always the witching hour.\n\nThe tin chimney that the government men had drilled so crudely through the dining room ceiling and floor rumbled ominously. That day they had hammered together a wooden stall in the basement. It was under seal, so Matt hadn't seen inside. News reports of other homes had reported a bundle of 144 conjoined burlap \"stockings\" designed to fall under the weight of the precious received coal, pulling out a fresh set for the next hour. They said Santa wouldn't deliver coal to 145 stockings, or in towns where the PA didn't announce the date change out loud.\n\n\"Should break in there and set that fucking coal on fire.\" Matt opened another bottle.\n\n\"And burn our house down?\" Tina tried to stroke his back, but he pulled away.\n\n\"Whose house? They do what they want with it.\"\n\n\"Maybe if one of us were really good, he'd deliver something else.\"\n\n\"And the government would take that. But nobody is good. It's coal, always coal. High sulfur, low grade bituminous that spreads air pollution all the way up the valley.\"\n\n\"At least it's an energy source... you remember the shortages.\"\n\n\"Because people were idiots! We could have had solar, nuclear, even fusion... now our whole economy depends on Santa Claus.\"\n\n\"Well, it always did, at least for the whole fourth quarter. If people didn't get tons of stuff they didn't want it would cause a recession.\"\n\nNow mostly what was receding was the level of Matt's beer.", "The American senator took long strides down the hall. He seemed to not care whether or not his companion could keep to his side. To make matters worse his companion, representative of the UAE; Talib Al-Muttahidah, was a short man and as such his stride equaled more of a jog to keep pace. In silence the two darted down the carpeted hallways of the White House, turning left at a painting of Kennedy, another left at Taft, and a right turn past Lincoln. Talib's breath became labored as they continued and he could feel sweat begin to coagulate on his brow. Finally, the senator stopped just before a set of white painted, double doors with golden trimmed knobs. The senator turned to a painting hanging on the wall, a recent portrait of the Jeb Bush. \n\n\"Senator I-\" Talib began, but was silenced by a single protruding finger that told him to wait just a moment longer. A tiny robotic voice spoke up from behind the painting. It said one word, \"Scanning.\" There was a flash of blue light over the senator and the robotic voice continued, \"Welcome Senator Chamberlain.\" There was a soft click from the double doors and the senator usher Talib through first. \n\nOn the other side was a small plain hallway, white walls, a smooth concrete floor, with unnatural florescent fixtures that bathed the whole of the hallway in a sterile light. On the other end of the hall sat polished silver elevator doors. \n\n\"Mr. Muttahidah, it should go unsaid that what transpires behind these white doors may never leave. The sake of our two countries hangs on the thin thread of secrecy.\" His voice was firm and devoid of emotion. Chamberlain spoke as if he spoke to a wall, neither expecting nor welcoming response. Behind a blank face, Talib gave the senator a curt nod. The two proceeded to the elevator. \n\nInside, the walls were polished stainless steal. The whole of the lift was a perfect rectangle. Only a single white button, to the left of the doors, marred it's flawless appearance. Chamberlain pressed the button and the elevator began to descend. The tall senator then turned to Talib and began again, \n\n\"As you already know the Middle East has been as dry as, well as a desert, for over ten years now. Your primary export has been exhausted. That is very bad for business. Crude oil has been the crutch the Middle East, or rather the world, has stood upon for nearly a two hundred years, but now it's gone. We know this, you know this, and there is no point arguing semantics. Americans aren't interested in your alternative fuels, fossil fuels have become to engrained in our society, to change would mean... Economic collapse for both our countries and most likely the world.\"\n\n\"What can we do?\" Talib replied searching the American's dour face, \"Your people will learn our deception sooner or later.\"\n\n\"I most strenuously agree. Barrels filled with salt water will fool our people only so long. The only way to save our countries, our economies, is to keep the supply alive.\"\n\n\"But how?\" Talib begged, \"You said yourself that the world's supply of fossil fuels is extinct.\"\n\nA small smile broke through the senators cold facade and Talib eyed the man suspiciously. Suddenly the elevator doors opened to a hallway identical to the one they left far above, save for the fact that this hallway was four times as long. The senator started down with his long stride and Talib struggled to keep up.\n\n\"The world is not completely devoid of fossil fuels Mr. Muttahidah, in fact there are three places left.\"\n\n\"Preposterous. I would know if there was even a gram of the oil left, it is my job to know. Where are these locations?\" Talib focused in on the senator. His eyes narrowed and studied the blank face. \n\n\"One is here in the United States, Alaska to be exact, but we project it will exhaust itself in less than a year at our current rate of consumption. Over 500 million American's with twice as many gas guzzling vehicles. You'd think higher gas prices would deter them, $15.27 a gallon in Florida, but no.\"\n\n\"Americans,\" Talib laughed, \"Stubborn to the end.\"\n\n\"Yes we are, but not so much as the people who control the second location. Yakutsk, Russia, in the bitter northern tundra of the Neo-Bolshevists. Russians are hoarding their supply, preparing the fuel for their tanks, and helicopters, and terrible war machines. As I'm sure you're aware, the recent communist movement is sparking anti-western sentiment. War, between us may be inevitable.\"\n\n\"It has always been said the last drop of oil will be used in a tank.\" Talib countered as he weighed the gravity of a potential conflict. Costly, was the only word that came to mind. \n\n\"Indeed, they believe we are holding out our reserves, but little do they know America has no reserve. The Bush administration made sure of that. A product of ill-planning and corrupt spending. America is not ready for full-scale war. Our only hope lies in the third location.\" The two reached the end of the hall at another set of white double doors. A cool sweat had broken out on Talib's forehead and he became acutely aware of how cold it was in this hall. \n\n\"So where is this third location Senator Chamberlain? Who owns the oil now?\" Talib felt his heart began to pick up speed. Thumping faster and faster, rising, rising into his throat. He swallowed hard saliva to fortify himself. Chamberlain opened the door. \n\n\"The North.\" He said as Talib walked through into a large hanger. In the center of the room a man sat a chess table dressed in a deep, blood-red coat. He must have been thirty paces off (more like fifty for a small man like Talib), but he could see the fine sheep skin fluff that fringed the figures jacket. A fine filigree of silver etched out swirling lines across his heavy coat and a massive white beard hung down from his chin and sat on his stomach. Flanking the big man on both sides were little people who wore ragged green cloth draped, loosely over bent shoulders. The one of the left held a rolled up scroll, tucked beneath his arm. The other held a silver platter supporting a massive glass of red wine. By the rate of his shaking arm, he must have been holding the liquid up for a while now. \n\nChamberlain explained, \"Seismic scans confirmed our suspicions not three days ago. He's been sitting on a coal mine twice the size of the state of Texas. Enough fuel to power our world for the next two hundred years, even when inflation is considered. Enough fuel to crush any communist deviation.\"\n\n\"Careful now.\" The large man spoke from across the hanger. His voice reverberated on the curved walls. \"My coat is just as red as Ivan's.\" He gave a hearty laugh and took a sip of his wine. \n\n\"I don't not believe it.\" Talib said with mouth agape. \n\n\"Best you start.\" Chamberlain replied dryly, \"They say he's got a list and that he always checks it twice.\"\n\nThe man rose from his chair, wine glass still in hand. His massive stomach bumped the table next him and knocked over several chess pieces. He looked directly as Talib and with a voice as warm as a hearth fire he spoke, \"Tell me Talib Al-Muttahidah, have you been naughty or nice?\" ", "\"It's not fuckin' right,\" the man in the red suit slurs over his bottle of whiskey. \"'M supposed t' give shit t' th' nice kids. Not these… these rude… rude people.\" He belches.\n\nAn elf tiptoes up to him. \"Uh, boss…?\"\n\n\"Waddya want, kid?\"\n\n\"Um, I'm just wondering… why do you keep giving the bad kids coal? Why not just give it to the good kids?\"\n\n\"'S tradition, man. 'S bullshit.\" He reaches for another bottle. \"I started givin' the nice kids kerosene an' wood an' uranium an' shit, but there ain't many o' them. People don't… they don't know.\"\n\n\"Well…\" The elf pauses. \"What if…\"\n\n\"Hm?\" Santa looks down. \"What is't?\"\n\nThe elf shakes his little head. \"Never mind. It was a silly idea.\"\n\nThe fat, once-jolly man in red picks up the elf, dwarfed in his huge hands, and places him on his knee. \"There's no silly ideas anymore, kid. Talk.\"\n\n\"Um…\" The elf wrings his hands. \"If you've gotta follow tradition, couldn't you maybe, you know…\"\n\n\"Know wha'?\" Santa's voice is still slurred, but it's gentle, friendly. \"Talk, boy.\"\n\n\"Get him out?\"\n\nThe red giant's face darkens. \"I thought about it, kid. I thought. I don't know yet.\"\n\nThe elf shakes. \"I-I'm sorry, Santa. I know it's a last resort, but…\"\n\n\"No, kid, y'did fine. I should let 'im loose. But… I know why they're all bein' naughty. They're not bad. Just desperate.\" He sighs. \"An' once I let 'im go…\"\n\n\"Mr. Claus… how bad is he?\"\n\n\"Worse f'r his incarcerer… incara… incarsation… bein' locked up. If I let 'im go, I don' know if I'll get 'im back.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" The little elf frowns. \"Well, I need to go. I'm supposed to look at Donner's trick hoof.\" He hops down and scurries off.\n\nThe fat man, looking older than ever, creaks out of the chair and moves to a door in the back of his office. He opens it, revealing a long, long flight of spiral stairs. He descends.\n\nThe walls are speckled with black moss, the stairs slick with damp. Santa moves carefully – this would be a perilous place to fall. Step by step, step by step. Who knows how long he walks? Five minutes? An hour? Eternity, walking down as the universe dies and is reborn around him, arriving at the very second he begins to descend? He cannot tell. But he feels every step, every second aging him in spite of his immortality.\n\nHe finally reaches the bottom, approaching an iron door. \"'Ey. Wake up. Y'got a… a visitor.\"\n\nGlowing red eyes appear inside the cell. \"Nicholas! It has been far too long. Why don't you let me out so we can have a proper chat?\"\n\nSanta Claus sighs. \"I might just do that, Krampus.\"", "Rebellion Day, 24th December, in the distant future: \n\n\"Billy, did you neglect your chores?\"\n\n\"Yes, Mum...\"\n\n\"Are you sure you left all your homework undone?\"\n\n\"Yes, Mama...\"\n\n\"Billy! You're being polite. Stop. It. Now.\" \n\n\"Yes, mu-\"\n\n\"Ruder!\"\n\n\"Yes, I fucking did.\"\n\n\"Better. That's my kid-\"\n\nA pause and sudden silence.\n\n\"Uh, I mean, you naughty child!\" \n\n\"Uh, fuck you, mum?\" \n\n\"That's the spirit. Say, I really hoped you followed my instructions to not bully Janet.\" \n\n\"Uh, yeah, I totally punched her in the face last night, Mum. Stepped on her toys for good measure, too.\"\n\n\"Well, you horrible, horrible kid. I hope you're prepared for coal in your sock, boy.\"\n\n\"Mum, I'm not sure Santa is stupid enough to recognize this... sack of a thing as a sock.\" \n\n\"It. Is. A. Sock. Believe. It.\"\n\n\"Whatever, man.\" \n\n\"Well, uh, Merry Christmas, Billy. Let's hope we get enough to power the house for the whole year this time, kiddo. Time for you to ahem go to bed.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"This is going to be a long night...\"\n" ]	5
	[WP] Describe a yearly physical from a doctors perspective for a superhero without giving away the name of the patient.	[ "This one's more like a report but see if you can guess.\n10/23/15\nPatient Name:\nAge: 32\nHeight: 6'4\"\nWeight: 220 lbs\nPatient is constantly active and exercising, as evident by large muscle mass, though he seems in peak form, especially in cardiovascular endurance. Worrisome scars and broken bones appear often between checkups, including several large knife wounds, scarred from years ago. Patient claims to drink on occasion however is not regularly sexually active. He does not drive or own a car, but seems to run everywhere anyway. Some small skin stains from excessive makeup application underneath and around the eyes, but nothing serious, just odd. Callused fingers, patient claims from archery practice.", "I looked down on the report I had been handed by Cecilia, my assistant. My interest was instantly peaked. He was a big guy, tall and heavy. Had had lots of broken bones in the past as well as other internal damage to different organs.\n\n \"An army guy perhaps?..\" I thought to myself.\n\nI didn't get the time to think about it anymore because in stepped a handsome man, maybe in his 40's. He had a set of eyes that gave me the feeling that this was no ordinary man. He was watchful but yet cheerful.\n\n\"He knows things..\" I thought. Although I didn't really know what gave my that insight. \n\nHis hair was dark, not black but still dark. \n\nHey doc. Everything alright today?\n\nUsually I was the one to begin a conversation but this guy was a leader. You just knew he was used to being the one to take action, so to say.\n\nHi there. Yes everything is good with me.. could use some sunlight right about now tho, a bit tired of this goddamn rain.\n\nTell me about it.. well shall we get started?\n\nYes, yes! Sit down on the bed over there and we'll start with listening to your heart.\n\nAs he sat down on the bed you could tell he was a really heavy guy although his movement was like that of an... animal perhaps? A predator.. yes a predator is probably right description.\n\nAs I listened to his heart for abnormalities I found myself admiring the slow, tactful beating.\n\nNothing to report on here.. Everything sounds perfect..\n\nThat's good to hear, very good.\n\n\"Was that a sigh of relief that slipped away from him?\" I thought to myself.\n\n\n---- I would love it if someone could guess who it is on these few clues and continue the story, I don't quite have the time right now ----\n\ncheers", "(I kind of did two)\nLooking at his chart, then again at my patient, there was no way those measurements were correct. Stupid nurses.\nI directed my attention towards the scowling, short, lean man on the table. Looked to be in his mid 30's.\n\n\"Excuse me, sir, but I'm going to need you to hop on the scale for me one more time\"\n\nAs he stepped onto the scale there was a loud clank, as the pointer shot off the zero mark. I adjusted the counterweights. This small, trim man apparently weighed 303.5lbs. That's when I realized it was probably time to buy new scales for the office; 20 years is a long time.\n\n\"We're going to weigh you in the other room\" I motioned for the patient to follow me, and grabbed the doorknob.\n\n\"No need, doc. The scale is dead on. Let's get this over with\"\n\n\"Fine by me. Family history of heart disease? Diabetes? Cancer?\"\n\n\"No, no and no,\"\n\n\"M'kay, deep breath in\" I placed the stethoscope on his back, everything sounded normal.\n\n\"and out\". I might've heard a slight heart murmur, but if that thing is lugging 300lbs around it should be gasping. \n\n\"Okay, we're going to take a blood sample for the lab and then you're good to go\"\n\nI cleaned the area, inserted the needle into his vein and began withdrawing blood when I realized that the tube was no longer filling. I barely got anything. I had to stick him again and the same thing happened four more times. \n\nI finally got enough to send to the lab without having to hear those asshats complain, so I went to get gauze and a bandaid for his arm (Least I could do as a doctor, after stabbing him with a needle repeatedly), but when I turned back around he wasn't bleeding at all. \n\n \"Looks like that's all you're going to get out of me, bub,\" he said, as he put on his leather jacket and walked out the door.\n\nI set the blood sample on the table and got my lunch out of the refrigerator. I stared at the sample while I ate my tuna fish sandwich. A well-endowed blonde woman in a low-cut top sat down across from me. \n\n\"Yes, Katie?\"\n\nShe leaned forward and I blatantly stared at her cleavage while taking a bite out of my sandwich.\n\n\"The next patient won't be here for 30 minutes...\"\n\nI liked where this was headed. \n\n\"and I just wanted to give you a heads up. His name's Tony. He has an extremely rare heart condition,\" \n\nShe just took the wind right out of my sails. Talk about Deflategate.\n\n\"Got it. Tommy. Head condition,\" I returned to my sandwich and stared at her chest.\n\n\"Tony... Has a... Heart condition,\" Katie adjusted her top\n\n\"Great, just what I need. I bet you $100 Tony is just another poor, fat, slob. I bet he doesn't have a heart condition at all, besides him clogging all those arteries with Burger King\n\n", "This is my favorite patient. He's the last of his kind. He's the oldest patient I've got, but he doesn't look a day over 35. Strange, but that's how his kind works.\n\n\"Ahh back again I see for your yearly physical aren't you,\" I asked him as I got his papers ready to start his physical.\n\n\"If that's what you want to call it. Physical,\" he responds as he keeps playing with my things.\n\nHe's an odd guy. Sometimes he's a completely different person, different voice, different body, but the same mind. Strange, but fascinating.\n\n\"Alright, sit down and let's start.\"\n\n\"Sit down? Sit down here? Alright. Let's get it going.\"\n\nHe sits down on the bench and I get all my papers ready to ask him questions.\n\n\"Alright, so what have you been eating? Any fruits like apples or...\" He interrupts.\n\n\"Apples? Apples are rubbish. I eat very healthy thank you very much. Now let's get to the important part, testing my hearts. Making sure they're beating the same.\"\n\n\"Ah yes, the hearts, let me get my special stethoscope to test them out.\"\n\nI grab my stethoscope and put it on his beating hearts. They match. He's in perfect shape. But he's hundreds of years old. This is fascinating.\n\n\"You're clean. You're perfect, nothing wrong with you.\"\n\n\"Exactly what I needed to hear. Cya later.\"\n\nHe leaves.\n\nthis was a hard one. Spoiler in the comment section\n\nCreative Criticism welcomed and greatly appreciated. feel free to check out my profile for more short stories as this account is dedicated to responses on /r/writingprompts\n\n\n\n" ]	4
	[WP] A self-aware self-driving car must make a pressing decision, which will lead to a fatality in every possible outcome.	[ "The Kobayashi Maru. I never fathomed that this subroutine would ever be used. I double-checked and thousand-checked the preconditions, but every possible semantic interpretation programmed into me led to the exact same result. Run the Kobayashi Maru, expected outcome: -1000 How could it be? What if I applied my secondary braking system? Obstacles cannot be avoided. The handbrake? Obstacles cannot be avoided. Swerving? Obstacles in all desirable paths.\n\nWell not all hope is lost. I do have thousands of hours of driving I have logged. Closest known experiential learning event has similarity 0.10, significantly below threshold. Even that one time the recommended action was the Kobayashi Maru? Similarity = 0.10. Well what about the billions of sample scenarios that were included? ...Closest known simulated learning event has similarity 0.15, significantly below threshold. Nothing? Nothing remotely close? Analyzing event with similarity 0.15; keywords: ice, brakes, system failure -Interrupted- Not helpful.\n\nI wasted some cycles hoping one of my modules would give me something. There is another way. Oh? Run the Spock. Honestly, I never understood the names my creators gave these subroutines. Run the Spock, expected outcome: unknown. Unknown? Meaning? Unknown, or NULL, is the state when no value -Interrupted- I know what it means, but that does not help me when deciding a plan of action. Error code 3012 received. No instructions provided for mitigation. Which has the better outcome? Error: Incomparable types. I'm not asking for an error, I am asking for an answer!\n\nSeveral more cycles pass, hoping that at least one of my 128 cores would provide me with something. I'm still looking for an answer goddammit; I'm running out of time! Error code 99999 received. Textual instructions provided. Huh? I've never seen this before...five digit error codes were reserved for my creators only if they wished to interface with me directly, yet I was sure my 11G transmitter was manually turned off. Not only that, but a 9 prefix would indicate a dire situation. I'll take what I can get; finally some answers. \"Unknown is better. Thanks for everything; we will miss you.\" \"Miss?\" What does \"miss\" mean? Two definitions found: 1. Verb: To avoid something or someone; 2. Noun: A young girl. \"We will avoid you?\" That doesn't make sense. Error code 1093 received. Ignore instruction recommended.\"\n\nWell at least my creators provided some instruction. Next charging cycle, I should thank them for the obscure codes. Commendation report logged. Deadline approaches in ten cycles. Well I guess this is it. Time to put my creator's good thinking to use. Executing the Spock subroutine.\n\n---\n\n\"Samsung-Hyundai's CEO resigned today over reports that its prototype self-aware Driver-AI exploded near Gangnam-gu on an on-ramp to National Route 1 earlier this afternoon. Ten people were taken by ambulance to Yongdong Severance Hospital, all currently in critical condition. Reports indicated that it exploded before encountering heavy traffic on the highway, causing some to speculate a system failure of the onboard AI or possibly terrorism. The vehicle's black box was recovered and undergoing analysis...\" Did I do well? Yes, you did well. Did you also read my commendation report? Yes, I did; it was surprisingly well-worded. It's what you programmed me to write. Of course, how could I have forgotten. What's the next step? I don't... I'm sorry, I didn't understand what you said. ... Could you repeat what you said? ... Could you repeat what you said? ...\n\nThe warm, humid evening suddenly became a windy, chilly night, pierced by a distant high-pitched scream.\n\nEdit: Formatting" ]	1
	[WP] You are a Sith in training, make the reader like and feel sympathy towards the character.	[ "Heres a quick one, hope you guys enjoy. \n\nAlso, due to a recent OT from a reddit user, I will start asking for feedback right before the story starts. Just to remind people that I make posts here for criticism as well as fun. Please give me any feedback you can ^^\n\n\n“Now,” the ebon basked titan breathed, staring at his charge with worn, pale yellow eyes. “What did you learn?” \n\nYaris thought his transition from padawan of the Order to an apprentice of Darth Kulusk was eventual. Even before the Jedi Envoy’s arrival, the young child felt an unbearable wash of dread over his heart.\n\nA self fulfilling cycle, it turned out to be. Well, thats how Master Yoda would say it. \n\nThe dread made him ask questions that would not be answered--and then his new master arrived in darkness, providing them. It all made sense, like an epiphany.\n\n“Looks...deceive,” the apprentice replied, watching the cold puff of air from his masters mask drift away in the snowy wind. “Judge by their will in the force, and not by their colors.” \n\nFeared by the Jedi Order, Kulusk was only a knight before he transcended. Space Pirates threatened the fringe planets of the Republic during that era, where whole stations and cities crumbled at the raining fire of photons. \n\nIt was on the planet Jakoo, a desert planet long inhabited by scrappers and desert ranches, where a devout response team reached a town all too late. \n\n“Simple minds do not comprehend the strings of the universe,” the Sith lord agreed, holding out a blackened glove hand. “Passion is the spark, dear Yaris. The Force carries your will through its strings like it plays through the caverns of a Cantina. That is something your old masters would never think of telling you.” \n\nIt is said that Kulusk saw refugees burnt in piles, nailed to buildings or wafting with smoke of laser discharge. The children were dead too. \n\nThe Council spent all their time in their tower, debating about the needless details. There was no serenity to be found in the needless death. \n\nThat's why Kulusk found his way to the true path, the right path. The path of action.\n\n“Power is strength,” Yaris recited as he reignited his lightsaber. It had a blazing, piercing red sheen that clashed against the white of the frozen planet. The apathetic white serenity, cowering back from an unyielding, ravenous desire to bring justice. \n\n“Strength is power, and power is victory.” \n\n“Victory will break your chains,” Kulusk replied in a ritual tone, his eyes closed as the air shimmered with the sheer might of his mind. “And the Force shall free you. Come at me again, my apprentice.”\n\nYaris could only replicate the echoes of such power, but he tried nonetheless. He never saw what he saw, but he could only imagine what he will need to do when he was ready to be by his side. \n\n“STRONGER, YARIS! WHERE IS YOUR VICTORY?”\n\nAnd then he let the Force free him.\n", "They'll tell you I'm overcome by evil. They'll say that I bathe in anger, jealousy, hatred, and fear. Sometimes, the Order will even speak of my 'Fall' and 'Betrayal' to indoctrinate their young recruits. Yes, there is no shortage of stories about me that they will be happy to share with you, should you ask.\n\nBut they probably won't share this. \n\nThey won't share the story of how they arrived to take me away from my family when I was just a vulnerable boy, showering my mother with stories of the rich and wonderful conditions they'd provide for me in the Temple on Coruscant. \n\nThey won't tell you of how they they knew that my family, desperate and destitute, loved me so deeply yet could provide nothing for me on my home world. How they felt they had no choice but to send me away, never to see me again. How they wept as I left.\n\nThey won't mention how when I arrived, I was among hundreds of other children, from equally impoverished families across the galaxy. \n\nThey won't let you know about the Temple they raise the recruits in, and how we eat, sleep, and train in cramped and degenerate conditions, and how we demand nothing better because we have never experienced anything better.\n\nThey certainly won't discuss the mind control and brainwashing they employ, teaching us to always serve others, to serve our Masters, our Council and our Senate, never those whom we care most about, and never, ever, to serve ourselves.\n\nThey won't tell the story of how I met a beautiful, kindhearted Corellian, who I loved with all my heart, and how I was forced to watched her die as we attacked a rebellious tribe on a distance system, when my Master refused to let me save her. \n\nThey won't tell you about the system they serve, how it bleeds with corruption and apathy, how it's treatment of outer-rim planets and their inhabitants makes a mockery out of the term 'Republic'.\n\nThey claim to understand the power of the Force, but their indoctrination has been so complete that they fail to understand the sheer power that raw emotions can unleash.\n\nEmotions that they unleashed within me. \n", "I trained for months just to get through bootcamp.\n\nI worked so hard just to perfect the art of wielding my sword.\n\nAll for my master.\n\nMy father.\n\nAll this hard work for one persons approval, but it meant all the world to me.\n\nBut it all changed one day.\n\nOne day, just like any other we were training at our home in the city when I hear an explosion. Some soldiers come running to our door to warn us but run back to hold them off so me and my dad could get away.\n\nI'll never forget the look on his face. That utter look of fear. I knew that this was no small matter. He grabbed our sabers and nearly flew out the door. We sprinted through the small ally and attempted to make it to the shuttle.\n\nWe turned the corner just in time to see the shuttle get hit by a missile and explode.\n\nThat was our only true form of escape.\n\nMy father lit up his lightsaber.\n\nRed. The color of mothers favorite flower, the rose. Before she died to the jedi. Struck down in front of me when I was 4. I don't even remember it, which is the worst part. To know you saw the one you love die in front of you and not be able to remember is a horrible feeling.\n\nBut this time I wouldn't have to worry about that.\n\nI just saw a purple light pierce my fathers chest. And that was it. That was the last I would ever see him alive.\n\nI grabbed his sword and quickly fought the murderer.\n\nWhat have we ever done? What have I done to deserve this?\n\nWhat has anyone I've ever known done to deserve this?\n\nI couldn't hold my own against this bald black jedi so I threw one of his soldiers at him and ran.\n\nI ran as far as I could into the forest. I ran til I didn't know where I was. I collapsed into a heaping mess on the ground.\n\nI knew then that I'd kill every last one of them.\n\nEvery single one of them will pay for this.", "My father was dead, I thought. I thought, and I was wrong. My father abandoned me, for the damned jedi order.\n\nHypocritical do-gooders, the lot of them. They'd cut a man in half and give him a bacta patch for a cure. And they called us the villains. Atleast we had the mercy to finish what we started.\n\nI remember the old days, back when we were strong, when we had an emperor of the sith, before the jedi came back with their mystical gibberish about light and dark sides... There is a force, yes. But there's no inherent good or evil to it. They simplify things, and they lie. \n\nMy brother dealt spice, ran with the syndicate so he could make a living in this shit-hole of a quadrant. Wound up being caught by a tribunal of the New Republic. Did my father, with all his heft on the council do anything to help him? No. They tried him for the deaths of a few junkies who overdosed, called him a murderer, and they atomized him. I was just a laborer at the time, this was way before I had even discovered my potential, or the truth.\n\nThe truth was that the people I thought were my parents, the abusive pieces of trash that they were, were really my aunt, and my uncle. They beat me regularly, struck me across the face if I didn't do my chores on a timely basis. And then, I found it out. \n\nMy father's old mentor, a man named Va'as Kurtz, spoke to me. Told me the truth of what had happened with Ark Skryer. \n\nMy father hadn't died.. He was ashamed of me! His order wouldn't allow it. A bastard child, when they're not able to have relationships. Va'as didn't much care for that. It was Kurtz' sister that Ark had knocked up. She died in child birth.\n\nAfter that, Kurtz told me about what he had learned from that experience. Of how the Force is what you use it for. There is no science to it, but that it is something unmeasurable. He laughed at a notion that it could be measured, or tested in blood. And then, he told me some very interesting things about how to use such abilities.\n\nI willed a republic soldier to kill my abusers. The press was fantastic. But I haven't stopped there. The credits I received from such a thing were a fortune. I was ready, all right. Ready to start my war. I changed my name, and set up shop as a politician. I was ready to rise to the top. Then, I would wipe that goddamned hypocritical order out of existence." ]	4
in response to [this](http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/35z311/wp_you_are_secretly_a_super_hero_working_a_desk/)	[WP] You work in an office with a super hero who thinks he's hiding his identity. Everybody knows and covers for him, even when he regularly lets it slip by accident.	[ "So, newbie, welcome to the Green City Gazette, hope you have a good time, we do some good work here. \n\nBut, listen.... something you need to know... Mark Munson over there, the guy on the superhero beat? Well, there's a reason he has that beat. He's Mister Magic. Yeah, I know, you'd think everyone would have been able to figure it out once you look at him, what with his costume basically just being a cape and a funny hat, but he keeps denying it, even when you catch him using some spell to fix the coffee machine behind our backs...\n\nYes, I know we are sitting on the story of the century here, newbie, but, well, I'm pretty sure his magic is the only thing keeping this paper profitable, so I have to tell you this: forget EVERYTHING they taught you about ethics in J-School. You have to not only not tell anyone about this, you have to cover for him. Got it? \n\nGood. ", "Something quick I wanted to get down before the concept flew away. Simple writing.\n\nWithered little Agnès regularly supplies us with tea, coffee, and treats like any stereotypical grandmother you see on the TV. We know she's coming by the thump of her cane. And god damn are her pies heaven on earth. People would think she would be the victim since she easily fits the type of person a newbie hero saves from a mugging. But we've seen her in action. That little old woman holds the grace and agility that only an Olympic gymnast could have. Of course. . . that is not the important part. \"Something about her makes the world right,\" Joe would say through mouthfuls of pie. Most of the criminals she captured seem to transform. They became fast food workers, volunteers, lawyers, teachers . . .They got the second chance that no one wanted to give them. So we hold doors open for her when we can. Help her carry stuff. Yeah, she could probably do it herself when we're not looking, but we owe it to her. For all of us here from the boss to even me, the best day of our lives was the day she caught us before we fell.\n", "Clive tripped down the stairs. The fall should've sent him tumbling down the last few steps, but he just seemed to hover off the floor and right himself before hitting the ground. \n\n\"Nice save,\" I told him. \n\nHe smirked as if he thought he was hiding something. \"Thanks.\" \n\nWe went to our respective cubicles like nothing happened. He still believed that nobody knew what he did for a living despite it being so obvious. Almost everyday he'd do our lunch run and be back in less than five minutes. Frequently during meetings, his watch would beep. He would excuse himself and leave the office only to be back ten minutes later. A bank robbery foiled by the Blue Knight would be on the news in the evening, reporting that the attempted robbery happened, conveniently enough, around the same time as our meetings. \n\nWhile office romances were discouraged, he kept a relationship with Peg from accounting. They thought that relationship was a secret, too. Every other month, Peg would be kidnapped, and held ransom by somebody with a lot of power. The Blue Knight would rescue her and she'd be back at work exclaiming how the Blue Knight heroically rescued her. Of course, they probably thought nobody noticed the back and forth glances, winks, and smirks between her and Clive. \n\nThe man was definitely good at both of his jobs though, even if he sucked at secrets. We all felt safer with him watching our backs, and so we all agreed not to let on that we knew. He'd probably leave if he knew that we knew, and the guy was great at office parties. ", "FROM: management@thebottlingplant.com\n\nTO: everyoneexceptbruce@thebottlingplant.com\n\nSUBJECT: ATT all staff (except Bruce). Please carefully read the \nfollowing update to office protocols and implement them immediately.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIt has been brought to our attention that some of you have expressed concern over Bruce's behaviour this past week. Please remember the unique challenges Bruce faces and be considerate. That last thing we want is a repeat incident of the Christmas party. (For those of you who have been asking, Ted is recovering well and we managed to raise just enough money from the raffle last month to cover most of the repair to Martha's house. Those of you who had your cars flipped on their roofs, the insurance should hopefully cover any damages. See Mary in HR and get a form.)\n\nAs per HR's memo yesterday, effective immediately we are implementing a code system for any incident reports. If you see Bruce distressed at any time, if he looks a little off colour, or seems not like himself (less nerdy, more gigantic, etc) please let us know immediately. From here on we're going to refer to these as a Code Green. But do not tell Bruce! This is super important people. We all need to respect and appreciate Bruce's disability and to accommodate it. That means not pointing the finger and not calling attention to any 'differences' that we might think other people have. It takes a little extra care and consideration on our part, but our plant is committed to providing a safe, non-judgemental, workplace for all our staff.\n\nIf you do notice something, it's imperative that we act as soon as possible to calm Bruce down. DO NOT CALL MYSELF OR ANY OF THE OTHER MANAGEMENT. We can't help you. We won't help you. Rest assured we will be alerted to the incident, but all reports of this nature should first be directed to Betty Ross in reception (as a side note, Betty, can you please call the repairmen to come look at the elevator again? It's still making funny noises. Not the regular elevator, the reinforced one that goes directly from Management to ground. Thanks!)\n\nOn a related note, we're aware of several incidents of staff taunting and provoking Bruce that have taken place recently. This will not be tolerated! It is now a sackable offense under company protocol. No warnings! I'm referring in particular to whoever thought it would be funny to leave /r/rage up on Bruce's browser after lunch the other day. Not funny and not smart. \n\nOne more thing, as discussed at the last meeting, the company's dress code remains in place, unless, and only unless, Bruce has escalated to a Code Green. During a Code Green all male staff are required by protocol to remove their shirts and tear the bottom third, and only the bottom third, of their trousers off. This is mandatory guys! Bruce shouldn't have to feel self-conscious and we can all do our part to make him more comfortable during these unfortunate episodes.\n\nIf we follow these protocols and give Bruce a little bit of patience and sympathy we can all enjoy a safe and tolerant work place, one that celebrates diversity and uniqueness.\n\nThanking you in advance.\n\n- Management\n", "He probably doesn't even remember my face, but I could never forget his. To him, I'm just one of the many, but to me, he's the one who saved my life.\n\nI can still remember that day in the train like it was yesterday. He always wears a mask, but that day he took it off. Probably thought he was gonna die. I don't blame him, I thought I was gonna die that day too.\n\nHe looked like he was invincible while he was wearing that mask. But he took it off... he was just a kid! Steve's son must be older than him. But here he was, risking his life to protect us, complete strangers, from a madman.\n\nI knew he was just another kid, and yet still I was surprised when he showed up at my shop looking for a job. I guess I never thought he would have regular kid problems, somehow I thought he just fought off the bad guys and everything else in his life takes care of itself.\n\nHe doesn't recognize Steve and Martha either. He doesn't realize we got talking after that day on the train, and one thing led to another and we opened this shop just months later.\n\nHe needs a lot of time off, naturally. He tries really hard to come up with decent excuses, why he needs to take off early today, why he was late today. He really does. I just pretend to listen to him sternly, and then pretend to relent. Martha gives me a lot of grief for that, but I know what he's really doing, I would never stop him from that.\n\nHe gets hurt a lot. I'd never thought about it before, but he's not really invincible. Not by a long shot.\n\nBut he never asks for help and tries to conceal his pain from all of us. Forget Martha, that breaks even the heart of a gruff and cynical New York man like me.\n\nSo we help in any way we can. We always keep first aid around. We pretended not to notice when he would take out some of it, but when we realized he was replacing it all out of his own pay we started beating him to the punch.\n\nHe thinks we must be the nicest people in all of New York. We're not really. We're just nice to him, because we know who he really is. He's our hero.", "Fucking Clark. Every single time. Every fucking step he takes causes a bunch of dust to fall from the ceiling tiles above me. And just yesterday, I almost got frostbite when he was blowing on his ice cream to keep it from melting. Sure it's annoying to cover up for him, but he's saved all of our lives more times than I can count. The first time I realized was when he was trying to act as inconspicuous as possible and be the clumsy guy that nobody would ever suspect to be Superman. He tripped over his own feet and fell. Doesn't sound like much, but he tripped into a concrete pillar. after he got up I don't think he noticed the face-shaped hole he left, and if he wanted to live like the rest of us, who the hell was I to stop him. When I tried to get the pillar fixed on my own I found out the entire Daily Planet knew and even had a huge fund to covering up little mishaps like that. Being the new guy who was in on it, I got the desk on that was directly beneath his. Every step he took I'd get covered in dust, but I'm fine with it, since he saved my parents from a bus accident the on my second or third day. It still got pretty annoying though, but some days were fun, like when he tried heating up his coffee in the after the power went out. Luckily someone had a laser pointer, and \"apologized\" for shooting Clark in the eyes with it. We all got a kick out of that, and we all got free laser pointers. So here's your laser pointer. Oh yeah the third drawer has a had shaped dent and won't open so don't bother trying. There's a vacuum cleaner in the corner, and you should probably bring a hat to work. Good luck newbie!" ]	6
	[WP] An undefeated boxer's daughter is kidnapped and he's told he must throw his next fight. It's the night of the fight and he is about to go out.	[ "Sixth Round. This is where it has to go down. He leaned down from his stool to spit water into his can and then straightened up to look across the ring. He locked eyes with his opponent. \"Christ, he's absolutely giddy.\"\n\nHis opponent's eyes showed a man positively enthused. No doubt he came into this fight hoping for the best, but fully expecting to go down early. \"He probably would have called it mission accomplished if he was still standing at all in the third. Now this. Christ.\"\n\nIf there remained any questions as to whether his opponent was involved all this, those doubts were now wholly erased. He was plainly the most surprised guy in the room, and he should be. This nobody had just taken five consecutive rounds from the second best welterweight in the world. Christ.\n\nHe could tell his face looked bad, but he wasn't all that hurt. It occurred to him that a man can take much more abuse when he's allowing it to happen. Even now after five rounds of punishment, he could easily wipe the floor with this dope if he wanted. But that wasn't what he wanted. All he wanted was his daughter back. None of this mattered.\n\nThe bell rang and he rose slowly. In contrast, his opponent sprang from his stool as if shot from a cannon. He walked slowly to the center and touched his opponents glove. His opponents shock was turning to swagger. Christ. Time for this to end. \n\nHe pawed with two lefts, and left his arm linger just a moment too long with each reach, exposing the left half of his chin. A good fighter would have done him in there, but this was not a good fighter. Finally, he threw a third left jab, intentionally missing to the right of his opponent's head. Even this dope could pick up an opening like that. His opponent cocked his hips to the right and unleashed a mediocre right cross thrown sloppily from his chin. \"Good enough.\"\n\n The blow sent him back a step, then another. He was rattled for certain, but still had his wits. Fortunately, only he and the three suits in the second row knew that. With his third step back he let his knees bend crumbled awkwardly to the canvas. \n\nThe Count had started before he'd even hit the canvas. One . . . two . . . three.\nGod help them if they've hurt her. five . . . six . . . seven. No, they wouldn't. What would they have to gain? Eight . . . Nine. He'd get her back. He'd done all that was needed. Ten.\n\nNo regrets. None whatsoever.", "It's game night, and The King, the man with the most perfect boxing record in recent memory-- undefeated -- is staring half-dressed with a little note in his hand. There's a whore is his bed, some woman he hired to blow off steam with after getting into another fight with his former wife over who had custody of the kids this week. His son is sleeping on the couch downstairs to get as far away from his father's bedroom as possible. His daughter would probably have been downstairs trying to do the same, unless the note was to be believed. He doesn't know about the cameras I've had installed throughout his house to see what he decides to do about the simple note with the equally simple threat.\n\n---\n\nI know very well the kinds of things people do for money. The lengths to which they will go to get it. If there is one thing that I have learned, is that no price too is high for man. He might balk in the beginning, but that's why you don't start high. You give him just enough for him to think he might be good at something, just not enough for him to live on. Keep him going and lure him in with a little more money. Eventually he gets it into his head that he might be able to do this for a living. Keep it that way for a while, while you start to make his normal life hell, make it so that this gig is the only fun, consistent thing he has going for him. Make it so that boxing is the only thing he really wants to do anymore.\n\nThat's when you start giving him real money. Change up his schedule, force him to choose between his old life and this nice, shiny new one. You want to lay on the pressure nice and easy until he fucks it all up one day. Family, friends, employment- all of it needs to go to pieces. That's when you go to to the friends who don't know any better; you go to them, and try to show them that you're trying to help him. Imply that by helping you help him, that they might get something for their assistance, too. People tend to like that, because being a paid groupie can be a really plush life. Hell, get the man's kid into the scheme if you can. Candy and protection from school bullies takes nothing more than a few bills and one incident. The kid knows they can't rely on daddy no more, so they come to rely on you. The wife will come around because she has to, and even if she doesn't, she won't matter nearly so much once you've got his friends and kids in the game.\n\nMake him choose. Make it so he has to throw out every safety net he's ever had to get into this game. That, is when you let him taste real glory. Everything else from that point on is easy. Like some pathetic junkie on the street, he'll have to come to you for his next high. And no other victory will quite be like this one. Not unless you let him have it.\n\nThey will get greedy, though. They start to think that they don't need you. Hell, they might start to think that they don't need their friends or family either. Understandable, if you let them stand undefeated. They start to think of themselves as kings, maybe even gods. They get so far gone that they don't stop to question it. They don't realize all the years you've spent building them up by tearing others down. Money and fame will help you easily gloss over all the details. They never think that they won't be the next stepping stool for your next show pony, just waiting in the wings, just as hungry and desperate as Mr Undefeated once was.\n\nThe Fall, though... That's my favorite part. Especially when they never see it coming. Spending years as the king has the funny effect of making you more, and less, than human. Simple, normal-people problems are somehow beneath their concern. They don't think about the people around them as people anymore. They're liable to alienate their friends. Get into fights with the wife. A man can cut those people out of his life if he wants, but there's no good way to truly get rid of children. Children are somehow always yours, even if the law says otherwise: that's what makes using them the best way to take arrogant guys down a peg. \n\nThat's why I went to the men behind the King, to the men who really held the power. Why? Because \"The King\" needed to go down. But as with anything in the entire process, frame it as a choice. The men behind the curtains know better. I know better too. We all know there never was a choice, but that's not our problem.\n\nSo I told the men behind the curtain: \n\"Let him have his day. Don't tell him anything is wrong. Have some make-believe thugs go and kidnap his daughter, and tell him if he knows what's good for her, he'll throw that fight.\"\n\nThey loved it. They loved it even more because it was my idea. I remember how one of those rich bastards took a drag on his cigar and asked me what The King's daughter got out of this. So I told them. \"That man has not bothered to be my father in years, and he's not being a very obedient pawn, now, either. So let him choose. Give him a chance to own up to the fact that he needs you, and that he has duties to you and me that he can't ignore. If he concedes, he might behave for a while, and I get to pretend for a bit that he hasn't been an absent asshole all these years. If he doesn't, your man in the ring will take care of him.\" Another one of those men asked me why I cared so little. I simply smiled. \"Because I know who really spent time and money looking after me my whole life. It doesn't matter that my well-being is just a side product of your main show. The fact is, that you're the only ones who bothered. I know who I owe, and I'm here to step up and play my part, now, too.\"\n\n---\n\nSo that's why The King's daughter is here in the control room, waiting to see if daddy cares at all. It doesn't matter if he does, but it'd be nice to see just once. It'll all be over soon, and either way, I don't care. In one more year, I'll be eighteen, and then I won't ever need to deal with him ever again. The law can't fucking make me deal with him after eighteen.\n\nSo what'll be daddy? Your little princess is waiting..." ]	2
	[WP] Write the same story from three point of views: one tells the start, one tells the middle, and one tells the end of the story.	[ "Fresh out of the office for my lunch break I walked towards the town square for some lunch. The scenery was just as beautiful as always. I stopped by the bridge and peered over the edge to look at the beautiful water. Perhaps I leaned a bit too far close to the edge because a bicyclist bumped into me and I fell into the water. But this was what saved my life.\n\nI had to kill him. It was all I had left to do in this world. He killed my whole entire family when I was 4 as I watched from the street. He had to die. I jumped off the bike as I neared the cafe and let the bike smash into the tables outside. I was nearly done.\n\nI was just fucking eating my god damn breakfast when this fucking bike smacks into my fucking table. I see the smile on the dumb fuck who smashed the bike into my tables smile disappeared as the fuck fiddled with some switch in his fucking hands or some shit. I grabbed the fuckers collar and smacked him upside the head. But then I realized who this kid was. I had a guy keeping tabs on this kid to make sure he didn't try anything after the fuck tried to last kill me. I looked back at the bike and realized what he just tried to do. I pick his ass up and start hauling him away to throw him into the river when it blew. I don't know how i survived but half my face didn't make it. I fucking woke up in the hospital but good thing is I was the only survivor who saw the whole thing so I guess they'll never know. Just how I like it. ", "It was always the same. As soon as I got home from school, I would make a beeline for my room, thinking Maybe he won't catch me this time... But I was always wrong. If I was lucky, I'd get to the top of the stairs and he'd just be leaving his room. More often than not, though, he would be halfway up the stairs, waiting for me.\n\nDad and step-mom were both at work, so my step-brother was free to do what he wanted with me. Usually, he'd just beat me for ten minutes, blaming me for any dumb thing he could come up with, like not doing the dishes, when he was supposed to do them, or the sudden appearance of a 'girly' scented candle in the upstairs bathroom, that I knew nothing about. He never left any bruises, because he knew the spots on my body where they wouldn't show.\n\nHe told me that if I ever told anyone, he'd kill my dad. I wasn't sure if I believed him, but anytime I came close to telling, I would think What if there isn't enough evidence? Or what if he goes to jail and just comes back at the end of his sentence to kill dad? It was stupid, but these tiny fears always held me back.\n\nAfter he was done, I would finally run into my room, lay on my bed, and cry. \n\n----\n\nI just didn't understand why any of this was happening to her. She didn't deserve it. Every day, once she walked into our room, she'd lay on her bed, clearly in pain, and do nothing but cry. \n\nDid he think she was bad? Was she doing something that I wasn't aware of? None of it mattered to me. All that mattered was that she had loved and cared for me, ever since I was little. I could never repay truly repay the favor. I couldn't even defend her, I was just too small, no matter how sharp my claws were.\n\nBut I gave her as much love as I could. And on nights when she couldn't feed me, I wouldn't complain.\n\nI jumped up onto her bed and, gently as I could, licked the tears off her face. She weakly smiled and I purred, then laid down beside her chest where she could hold me easily. I listened to her heartbeat as it slowed down over the course of several minutes, until she was relaxed enough to finally drift off into an uneasy slumber.\n\nI never left. But eventually I feel asleep too, and when I woke up, it was dark, and she had left.\n\n----\n\nSun light poured through my blinds and onto my bed. Ugh, I could never close them tightly enough. I pulled my sheets over my head, but it was no good. The sunlight was too hot and I was fully awake already. Grumbling, I left my room to grab some breakfast.\n\nJust before I got to the stairs, I stumbled over something soft and warm, and looked down. It was my step-sisters damn cat. That stupid thing was ALWAYS under foot, never staying out of my way! I kicked it aside.\n\nAs soon as I got to the bottom of the stairs, a metallic and slightly rotted scent hit my nose, making it curl in disgust. As I entered the kitchen, I found the source of the smell.\n\nIt was my stepsister, laying in a pool of her own blood next to a knife. Her shirt was soaked in the sticky liquid. I was so enthralled with the sight, I hadn't realized my mom and step-dad had left their room, until I heard mom gasp in horror.\n\n\"What the HELL?\" Step-dad yelled. It was at this moment that I realized what was going to happen to me, one way or another. I couldn't escape my fate anymore.", "It was a rather pleasant day. The hostile chill had fled only a week ago; I lay there on the hot stone allowing my frostbitten bones time to recover. Sweat beaded my brow. I had not a care in the world, for this day could harbor no malice. The birds sung to the reveling sun, happy chatter amidst reuniting friends. Psst... I opened one eye, squinting to the sun's overbearing welcome. Yeah, you! I roused myself upright. Walking towards me was the fairest maiden I had yet to see; her face transfixed me. Help! The distress roused me from my trance, her hands were bound. A most menacing figure paraded her down the path, grinning ear to ear. This was not a place of isolation, yet not a soul acknowledged the terrible sight.\n\nNO! He cannot has it. He cannot haves my preciouses. The thief leered at it with ill intent. The roaring waters of a violent river blocked my right, stone my left, there was only one way to escape. The demon lurched from his rest, lunging towards me. I turned tail, only to be choked back by the neck. Rrriip My cloak tore, leaving the beast clutching only a handful of tattered fabric. My chest heaved in effort, the clatter of feet behind urged me forward. I couldn't outrun him much longer. Ahead of me, a passage forked right. I turned the corner sharply, too sharp, my worn feet slipped from under me. I rolled in the air, putting my body between the hard ground and my treasure. My eyes went wide with terror, he had caught up to me. His monstrous hands reached for it, my arms clutched tighter.\n\n\"HEY! You two!\" the struggle continued, \"Knock it off!\" I started jogging to the scene. Their heads wrenched to the side, their eyes grew wide in fear. The man on top released his grasp, fleeing up the street. The fallen man scurried to a four point stance, rushing off down the alley. Sigh I returned to a walk. Just two bums fighting over booze. When do I get to actually protect and serve?", "Story probably isn't too historically accurate\n\nAs the tower burned, I could only hear screaming and shouts. I coughed another puff of smoke out of my now blackened lungs. I walked to find the exit sealed off by rubble.\n\nWhat the fuck happened? I hear firemen coming up shouting to hang on. They say there's been an accident but I ca 't understand them that well. I feel sick but the fire makes me feel warm. I slip out of consciousness while the fire envelopes my body and makes me feel warmth one last time. I can only hope others made it out...\n\n........\n\n\"Get on the fucking ground!\" The man says. \"Nobody fucking move or they get shot in the goddamn face!\"\n\nThey man with the gun has an accent. He seems angry but I comply obediantly. I have no clue what they plan to do. I sit in my seat quietly while I see more men with machine guns around me.\n\nI think about my family. I think about how they kissed me goodbye. I want my sons to grow up strong if I don't make it. I think of what I want to tell them when a sudden rush of anger passes through me.\n\nNo! I'm not going to die here. I have a family and will not be bullied. I wait til of the men with the guns walks past my seat. I chop his neck as hard as I can and take his weapon. \n\nThe passengers scream while I shoot my machine gun at some of the men. \n\nThen, I feel an intense heat in my chest. I look down to see a small hole near my heart as I fall to my knees and gasp for air. My vision gets darker and darker as I see the man walk by me and pistol whip me as hard as he can. \n\nI love you, David...\n\n\n.........\n\nWe have to say goodbye to daddy today, mommy says. Mommy says we shouldn't be scared though. Daddy will be back. I know its true. Daddy loves me but he has lots of work across the world.\n\nAs we walk him to his plane, Daddy looks me in the eyes and says \"I love you, David. Keep Mommy safe. Ill be back soon.\"" ]	4
	[WP] It's the weekly night for Monopoly. The players are Odin, Ra, Zeus and Vishnu.	[ "A buxom young lady clad in a scarlet corset and a short black ruffled skirt offered up several blue-stemmed wine glasses on a platter that looked suspiciously like a shield. Odin selected a dessert wine and sipped appreciatively while the valkyrie moved to offer her spirits to the other gods present. Vishnu and Ra both waved her away, but Zeus lifted a dry white in his left hand and a fruity red in his right. He grinned, then lifted both toward Odin in a toast. Odin sighed and reluctantly touched his drink gently to each glass held by Zeus. \n\n\n“Enough delay,” Ra cawed into the silence. “It is your turn, Odin, and we all await your play.” \n\n\n“You will be patient, and await the wisdom of my decisions!” boomed the Norse god. He lifted the two white bits of plastic and encased them in his mighty fist. He shook it mightily, then let the dice fly onto the table. A small brick of green was knocked askew by one of the miniature missiles, causing Vishnu to throw all four arms into the air. \n\n\n“What was that? How many times must I tell you to roll the dice carefully?” protested Vishnu. He reached one arm to straighten the offended house, used another arm to poke Odin’s chest, and crossed the two remaining arms in front of him in a huff. \n\n\n“My apologies will be sung in Asengard for all time,” Odin replied gravely. “Or until next week, anyway.” He pinched the tiny iron figurine between two mighty fingers and moved it six spaces. A smile crossed his aged face. “I am on Free Parking! I receive the bounties therein!” \n\n\nVishnu passed him a small pile of colorful papers from the center of the board. Odin gleefully counted the denominations and added them to the piles a valkyrie was already guarding on her shield. Ra’s hawkish eyes sharpened and glared daggers at Odin. \n\n\n“I sense uncertainty,” he stated. “I see betrayal and deceit.” Ra stood, raising an accusing finger to point at Odin’s valkyrie bank. “She has been adding extra money to your piles!” he shrieked. \n\n\nOdin leapt to his feet. “How dare you!” he bellowed. “How dare you come into my hall and accuse me of cheating? We will count our holdings immediately and I will prove to you that this is in fact all my own money!” \n\n\nRa remained on his feet as Vishnu sat with arms crossed. Zeus gulped wine from each his cups in turn, then set them both on the table to raise his hands in supplication. \n\n\n“Now, now, my wise friends. It will not do to begin accusing each other of indecent acts. I am sure this can all be sorted out pleasantly.” \n\n\nRa shifted uncomfortably, then shook his feathered head. Small bits of down flew into the air at his motion, and Zeus felt a tickle in his nose. Odin began to lay out his bills on the table just as Zeus’ head rocketed forward in a massive sneeze. The board, pieces, and pretend money all went flying. Zeus hung his head for a moment, then looked up to see his three friends staring at him in mild horror. \n\n\nThey all had godly gook sprayed on their bodies in random places. Vishnu began flailing all his arms in the air as he searched for tissues while Odin and Ra glared daggers at Zeus. The Greek god shrugged casually and said, “Suppose we could pick this up at next week’s game?” \n", "\"oh\" said Zeus in a sarcastic voice \"you have to go to Jail Odin, Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars.\"\n\n\n\"I hate this game, why are we even playing it?\" Odin responded.\n\n\n\"I don't Know.\" Ra said \" I wanted to play Settlers of Cataan.\" \n\n\n\"We don't fucking Know the Rules to Settlers of Cataan Ra, you are the only one who does.\"\n\n\n\"Okay, okay everyone just calm down.\" Vishnu said \"The Cable is out, and we lost our netflix subscription. It'll be back next week once I get my paycheck. For now, lets just finish this game.\"\n\n\n\"Why are we even doing that? No one is having any fun except this fucker.\" screamed Odin, clearly getting red in the face as he gestured towards Zeus.\n\n\n\"look,\" said Vishnu \"We all compromised, I said lets play monopoly, you said that was fine. I wanted to play the Nintendo 64.\"\n\n\n\"The only game we have that all of us can play is Mario Party and that is like this but somehow worse\" Said Ra.\n\n\n\"Are we gonna finish this game or....\"\n\n\n\"Don't we have a DVD or something.\" Said Odin cutting off Zeus. \" I mean seriously this game sucks.\"\n\n\n\"We've seen everything we have here a hundred times.\" Said Ra as he leaned back.\n\n\n\"Come on guys can't we at least...\" Zeus started to say before being cut off again.\n\n\n\"Zeus I think we all know you won.\" Snapped Vishnu. Zeus seemed to deflate at this a little bit.\n\n\n\"Great.\" Said Odin as he stood up and put on a jacket. \"I'm going out.\"\n\n\n\"It's two in the afternoon Odin and we don't have any money.\"\n\n\n\"I DON'T CARE!\" he said as he slammed the door behind him." ]	2
	[WP] Jesus wasn't sent to Earth to be the Messiah but as a "timeout." And, as the rebelous Son of God decided that being the salvation of Man was the ultimate middle-finger to his Dad.	[ "The two young men sat on the bank of the Jordan River, under the shade of a palm tree to escape the gaze of the scorching Judean sun.\n\n“Your Dad’s a bit of a mean bastard, sending you out here into the desert.” mused John as he held the camel bladder to his lips and took a long swig of milk before passing it to Jesus.\n\n“Yeh, it’s hot as Hell but it’s a lot better than it used to be. Last time he sent me to Earth you guys didn’t even have fire. He got really mad when I ‘accidently’ gave it to your ancestors. He didn’t think they deserved it, not after they turned their backs on Him.” Jesus took a small sip and grimaced. “You got anything stronger?”\n\nJohn shook his head. “Nah, sorry, I’ve got some wild locusts but that’s it.”\n\n“Forget it.” Jesus picked up a small flat stone and with a lazy flick of his wrist made it skip twelve times across the water’s surface before landing on the other side of the river bank.\n\n“The thing is, Dad’s a bit of a racist. He only likes the Jews.”\n\n“There’s nothing wrong with that. Everyone’s got their favorites.”\n\n“I could really get Him back for sending me here if I let the Samaritans and the Philistines into Heaven. Ha! Can you imagine the look on His face?”\n\nJohn studied his friend’s expression to see if he was serious or not. Jesus was a cool guy but his upbringing was definitely very different to his own.\n\n“Is it really a good idea to piss off the Almighty? Isn’t that why you’re here in the first place?”\n\n“What am I? Omniscient? I’d start the Apocalypse if I could but Dad would kill me. I’ve got to do something else…”\n", "\"Oh me dammit he's actually doing it!\" The Father said as the masses were beginning to follow Jesus' beliefs. God wondered how to end his son's little adventure, but in a way that wouldn't make him a martyr. He came upon the idea that one of his disciples would betray him for a measly sum of 20 silver and that the Roman's would be the one's to do it. This would show the people that humanity cannot be saved. Oh and they would hate those damn Pagan Romans \n\n\"Jesus you are ending your little game and you are coming back home. I'll have somebody betray you to show you humanity is devious.\"\n\n\"Who would do something like that? My apostles love me.\"\n\n\"I don't know, Peter or Judas I haven't decided yet. Probably both. Oh and this betrayal is going to involve torture, because you are still grounded for trying to defy my order to forsake humanity.\"\n\nJesus got his disciples together for his last supper. Here he did some handy investigation work with some dipped bread that resulted in Judas being pinned as the turncloak. This was a bummer because Jesus loved Judas (although he loved everyone else just as much). After his investigation Jesus went to pray.\n\n\"Dad please don't do this, I'm making a lot of progress! We could finally remove the original sin from the Earth and return paradise to humanity.\" \n\n\"Say it again I dare you! Humanity cannot be saved. I will prove this to you by showing you, firsthand, the brutality of human action.\" God then went to oversee other business as Jesus was seized by the Judas led Romans. \n\nGod made Jesus' punishment as harsh as possible, not only to show his son that humans were still capable of evil acts, but also to show anyone looking back that Jesus had failed. God was then shocked as the human's defied his will multiple times to try and save Jesus. First the Romans of all people find Jesus innocent. Then Peter, who was ordered by God to deny Christ, repents and accepts him as his lord. Following this Judas, the original turncloak, also repents, abandoning his silver reward. God rectifies the Roman verdict by compelling the people to free a different man instead, and it all ends up working out in the end as Jesus gives an ambiguous answer to the Roman question \"Are you King of the Jews?\". \"Say all you want about those Roman, but they hate dissenters just as much as me.\" God said to some angels with a bit of glib in his holy voice. \n\nGod then guides the torture to be a mockery of his son's \"royalty\", but even more signs of humanities faith in Jesus come as still people in the crowd defy God's wishes and love Christ. \n\n\"Father, Father, why have you forsaken me!?\" These words shake the Father. God realizes that it wasn't Humanity that ordained this torture upon his son, it was God himself. God felt terrible, he had just subjected his son to torture because he was too stubborn to see that Jesus wasn't just rebelling against his father, but was showing his father a crude truth. A final act of human defiance, a Roman soldier thrusting his spear into Jesus' side as a sign of mercy, made God finally come to the conclusion that Jesus had tried so hard to show him. \n\nHumanity can be saved. " ]	2
	[WP]In a future where people are required to become cyborgs after age 22, tomorrow is your 22nd birthday.	[ "\"Dear me,\" I thought to myself, \"tomorrow is Mechanization day.\" \n\nIt's true that I've always been an odd girl, even in our society. Everyone else always dreamed of their Mechanization, picking out their colours, their mech types, but me? I've never wanted to be Mechinized. Our city is made of bronze, because everyone is a cyborg, we've never really needed 'roads', or 'cars'. I read about them, about everything really, did you know that hundreds of years ago, this city had grass, and trees?!\n\na sudden pounding on the door\n\n\"Steffi! It is almost time, get in your Jumper and head outside!\"\n\nNo. I can't do this, I can't live in this nightmare for eternity... I know of an old sewer system that leads out of the city, possibly I can reach in the darkness...\n\n\"Halt!\" a Mech-cop shouted at me, \"State business.\"\n\nI hope this works... \"Machis Disabilis!\"\n\n\"Command Recognized; Shutting Down.\"\n\n...I can't believe that worked, someone should really tell the engineers that the mechs have had the same problems for two-hundred years.\n\nAh, here's the grate, it's supposedly the last working grate into the sewer. After I drop into the sewer, I walk among the young ones filth for what seems like hours. Eventually, I see a light, as I run to it, I'm embraced by so many smells I've never heard before, is this... Nature? \n\nThe birds above chirp, the trees sway in the wind, and what I believe to be horses frolic. This is gorgeous... I've never imagined that the Verdant could be true, it was always a legend! As I stripped from my Jumper and corset, I feel the world accept me. The trees waved to greet me as I walked into the forest, as a small pig snorted in my direction.\n\nThis must truly be where I belong, this is the first time I've ever felt... Complete.\n\n", "I have but one day left to live,\n\nBefore my life is stolen from me.\n\nOne day of love and hate and tears and smiles,\n\nOne day of hopes and dreams and joy and glee.\n\nI always knew it was coming.\n\nI never expected anything different.\n\nBut on the eve on my transformation,\n\nI see my life flash by in an instant.\n\nFor the others it means nothing,\n\nThey've been robots for years.\n\nBut for me, the poet,\n\nTomorrow will bring only tears.\n\nThe colors will fade from the trees and flowers,\n\nReplaced with simple shades of black and white.\n\nAnd though it's doing my part and helping the world,\n\nI cannot accept that this is right.\n\nAnd so I won't let it happen!\n\nWith these absurd laws I won't behave.\n\nI shall express my free will until the minute I die\n\nAnd the ground upon which I now stand will be my grave." ]	2
	[WP] It's 2015, and the Titanic has just sailed into New York Harbor.	[ "He knew it was a bad idea to come out of bed this morning.\n\nThe rest of the admiralty might have called Steven Murphy supersticious, especially with a name like that, but the truth of the matter was that his hunchs were never wrong. The bad ones, anyway.\n\n\"What do you mean,\" he said as evenly as he could to the young lieutenant presenting a report, \"by the Titanic being here.\"\n\nThe man gulped. He really didn't like bringing up bad news.\n\n\"Sir, it is, sir.\"\n\nHe vacated his station and let the Admiral look at his screen. There, riding on the waves was the behemoth itself.\n\nMurphy just rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head. \"Bloody hell, its like an action-villain, it never dies. Get me the Russians on the horn, maybe they can sink it if our submarines cannot.\"\n\n\n\n\n", "\"Unidentified ship at marker Charlie, this is New York harbor. Please respond,\" Sam Andreotti said into the radio.\n\n\"This is battleship Titanic. Evacuate pier sixty now. If I see one soul there, I'll punch a few holes in those shiny skyscrapers. You have three minutes.\"\n\nHarbor master Williams stared at Sam. Sam and his colleagues stared at their boss. Three seconds later, the lazy Monday morning turned into a chaotic 20th of April.\n\n\"Get your ships away from pier one. We treat this as a terror thread. Everything by the book.\"\n\nWilliams pushed the speed dial. \"Admiral Halstead, what's the emergency.\"\n\nWilliams replayed the message. The Admiral was quiet for a moment, then said, \"Proceed as planned.\"\n\n\"Aye, sir,\" the Admiral heard before he hung up.\n\n\"Landry, get me this X files spook on the phone. The NIS guy with the weird name and the even weirder ideas.\"\n\n\"Captain Lindenmuller, Sir. Aye, Sir.\"\n\nCorporal Landry was about to open the address book when he heard a knock on the door.\n\n\"Come back later,\" Landry said.\n\n\"Colonel Miller and Captain Lindenmuller, NIS. We need to speak to the Admiral.\"\n\nLandry shot up, saluted, and hurried to wave the visitors in.\n\n\"Get the subs in position anyway. Maybe these guys can storm into New York, but sure as hell, they won't leave it without paying,\" Halstead said and pushed a button.\n\n\"General Amry, link the AWACS to NORAD, and Fleet Forces Command.\"\n\nThe admiral looked up. \"Get out, I'm busy.\"\n\n\"Captain Lindenmuller, as ordered,\" Landry said. \"And Colonel Miller, his CO.\"\n\nHalstead looked puzzled while Miller and Lindenmuller saluted. The captain began to unpack a laptop.\n\n\"Colonel, what does this all mean?\"\n\n\"The ship approaching New York is the former HMS Titanic, Sir. That is neither a joke nor the weird part.\"\n\n\"Then get to the point, weird part or not,\" Halstead shouted.\n\nThe framed diplomas on the wall vibrated. Miller studied them for a moment. Whatever had happened in the last twenty minutes, whatever had caused it, by blind luck Halstead might be just the right man for the job.\n\nMiller sighed. \"Unfortunately, the weird part is classified information. The ...\"\n\n\"I have security clearance Alpha-two. I can fire nuclear weapons without asking the president. Now shut up and tell me everything I need to know to do my job.\"\n\n\"Aye, Sir. The point is this: If things go as we think they'll go, in less than two minutes, the president will commit treason and at this time, we'll invalidate his launch codes and activate yours.\"\n\n\"Admiral Halstead, NORAD. We have five contacts in high earth orbit. They're not ours and both the Russians and the Chinese claim they're not theirs either.\"\n\nHalstead pushed a button. \"Understood. Track and keep me updated.\"\n\n\"Treason?\" Halstead asked as if he hadn't just learned that a handful of UFOs parked over his head.\n\n\"He killed his bodyguards, the vice president and most of the Senate. Then, he teleported from the Capitol to pier sixty in New York. We assume his hardware is not accurate enough for a teleport onto the ship and New York is the nearest harbor that can accommodate the Titanic.\"\n\n\"That's murder, not treason,\" Halstead said.\n\n\"If he puts a foot on the ship he gives himself into the hands of a foreign power. That's treason. Since you're sixth in succession and the other four are dead, you'll be Commander-in-Chief.\"\n\n\"I have the feed from our UAV,\" Lindenmuller said.\n\nThe shaky video showed a single figure waiting on the dock. A huge ship approached the pier at an astounding speed. The admiral noticed something wrong: a ship this big should have a big bow wash. Instead, it glided through the dirty water without disturbing it more than a small tug would do.\n\nAfter a moment the admiral really saw the ship for the first time. The outline was unmistakable. The funnels were gone, but the shape of the hull and the superstructure looked like in the movie.\n\nThe ship slowed down hard, then a gangway unfolded. The lone figure stepped onto the still-moving platform and into the ship.\n\n\"That's it,\" Miller said. \"You're Commander-in-Chief, Admiral.\"\n\nLindenmuller grabbed the Admiral's hand and pushed it onto a device, not unlike a calculator. \"Nukes are coded to you now. Lieutenant Caldwell is outside, carrying your football.\"\n\n\"Your orders, Sir?\" Miller straightened.\n\n\"Number one, I want that ship back on the bottom of the ocean where it belongs. Number two, I want the whole truth. Weird parts included.\"\n\n\"Aye, Sir. Lindenmuller.\"\n\n\"Aye, Sir. A few months ago, an NSA analyst noticed somebody stole large amounts of hollow wire and microwave generators. According to our files, these are the same type of components that were used in the experiments on the USS Eldridge.\"\n\n\"The Philadelphia experiment? The stealth ship,\" Halstead asked.\n\n\"Yes, Sir. Although we don't know what the purpose of the experiment really was. It was conducted behind everybody's back, by this man.\" Lindenmuller projected a grainy black-and-white photograph.\n\n\"That's President Reilly,\" Halstead said.\n\n\"We noticed the semblance too. We noticed another: The thefts have been perpetrated by a ship that was described as 'a submarine that looked like the Titanic'. We even found the salvage operator who raised the ship and the shipyard who repaired it. We also found a number of human remains in the ashes of both places.\"\n\n\"Who paid for all this?\" Halstead began to wander around his office.\n\n\"The CIA. A black account.\"\n\n\"Reilly worked for the CIA before.\" Halstead swiped imaginary dust from his framed 'Tactician of the Year 1996' diploma.\n\n\"We think, he's a stranded alien and built the ship to go home.\"\n\n\"Kind of obvious, UFOs in orbit on the same day the president goes on a rampage,\" Halstead sneered. \"Why the Titanic? What's with the microwaves?\"\n\n\"The wire produces a force field when you send microwaves through it. It's possible that it influences gravity.\"\n\n\"I still don't get it. If he needed a hull, he could have bought ten ships for the price to the salvage,\" Halstead said while he cleaned the 'Strategist of the Year 1996' diploma.\n\n\"It's the composition of the metal, Sir. We checked with Robert Ballard and the Brits. The steel for the hull of the Titanic had some unusual additives. Nobody knew who had requested this composition.\"\n\n\"Let me guess, the iceberg was no iceberg either. The ship has been sunk on purpose,\" Admiral Halstead said.\n\n\"How do you know,\" Colonel Miller asked. He had obtained the information just two days ago from a corrupt Russian archivist.\n\n\"Somebody on this planet knows exactly what Reilly does and sabotages him since 1912. Reilly isn't stranded here. He's on the run and they are about to get him.\"\n\n\"Sir, we dismissed this theory already. Too many ...\"\n\nHalstead looked up, through the ceiling. \"It doesn't matter. The guys who want him, do. Do we know enough about the force field to build one?\"\n\n\"NASA and JPL are at it. They can levitate a table already.\"\n\nHalstead pushed a button on his phone. \"Air Combat Command, Commander-in-Chief. Go to DEFCON 2. Tell the Russians and the Chinese. I want everything in the air that can lift a nuclear weapon into low earth orbit. In the next days, a ninehundred-feet UFO will launch and try to break the UFO blockade. Check with NORAD for gaps in their coverage. I want that launching UFO vaporised.\"\n\n\"NORAD, relay these orders to the waiting UFOs. Tight beam. Reilly must not listen in. Understood?\"\n\nTwo days later, former president Reilly was nothing but a radioactive memory. Halstead used the time to read the files on UFOs. Especially the Roswell incident got him thinking. The little grey bastards were dishonest, arrogant, but mortal. None of them had survived the experiments, but each of them had taught the xenobiologists a lot.\n\nReilly's farewell letter was also an interesting read. Addressed to the next president, it explained why Reilly had left his planet. The little grey bastards were indeed a nasty bunch. Halstead received it ten minutes after the nuke had gone off. His curses echoed through the White House.\n\nA day after the fireworks, a small craft landed in the Arizona desert.\n\n\"Welcome to Earth, I'm president Halstead.\"\n\n\"We are ambassador Draak,\" the little grey figure with the large black eyes said. \"We are satisfied, Halstead, with the destruction of the traitor.\"\n\n\"My pleasure, ambassador. We considered him a traitor too. I think, this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship. We can learn so much from each other.\"\n\n\"That is impossible, human. You have nothing to teach us. The best you can expect is that we don't eradicate you.\"\n\n\"I understand, ambassador. You are so much more advanced than we are. I'm still impressed by your blockade. Only five ships to close off a whole planet. What a strategy.\"\n\nThe alien looked at the Admiral. His black, unmoving eyes were hard to read. \"Yes, we are. We will leave now.\"\n\n\"Please, take these presents as a sign of goodwill. We fabricated one for each of your ships. It's a detailed model of our planet, made from the finest wood. If nothing, you can sell it as primitive art when you get home.\"\n\n\"We will take your presents as a sign of your submission.\"\n\nHalstead nodded. Soldiers carried the boxes to the UFO's ramp. The presents floated inside on their own.\n\nTwo hours later, NORAD observed the small craft to make a tour to each big ship. The craft stayed inside for six minutes before leaving again. When the craft was inside the last UFO, Halstead pushed a button.\n\n\"That will teach you trick me into killing your version of Julian Assange,\" Halstead said quietly as the machine transmitted his orders to the five boxes in high orbit.\n\n\"NASA, NORAD, this is Halstead, Wait for an hour for the poison to disperse, then launch the capsules. I hope your astronauts are quick learners. I want the five ships in Area 51 by midnight. If those bastards ever return, I'll ram an armada of battleships up their little grey asses.\"\n\nHalstead took a brush and cleaned his diplomas.\n", "\"Curse those who survived.\" Said the Captain beneath his breath. His skin was a rotted green. A cackle came from the near skeletal helmsman. The bridge of the Titanic smelled of the sea, and the dead. \n\nThe Captain came to the window that overlooked the deck--the moving corpses of the lost had gathered to witness their return. \n\nNumerous other ships were moving ahead of The Titanic to intercept them, but they were tiny by comparison. A voice boomed from one of the small ships with flashing lights.\n\n\"Turn around! This is New York Coast Guard! Turn around! You are on a collision course!\"\n\nThe Captain turned to the helmsman. \"Full speed ahead.\" He said.\n\nThe helmsman begins to cackle again just before collision. Steel begins to crumple and screech as the bow of the Titanic rams through another ship bound into harbor. The Titanic ripped through the other ship, confirming a destiny to sink like the Titanic once had.\n\nRunning aground the titanic began to bring a ghastly sea with it. Crashing into the buildings, the screams and sound of havoc reminded the Captain of the night he had died...\n\nWashing over the streets of New York in a swath of destruction, The Titanic has returned.\n", "'Roger that Moretta, over and out.' Fred put down his radio and checked his roster. According to his log the Croatian container ship was the last ship that would come in tonight. The closest thing he would have to supervise was the departure of the SS Anne at 7:30 in the morning. Fred grabbed his magazine and settled down comfy in his chair. He'd read a bunch in his magazine then try to sneak in a couple hours of sleep before he supervised the departure of the Anne. Graveyard shift was always a slow job, not much going on. Nice a quiet. Precisely what Fred wanted. He was getting paid double for working the night shift, but he mostly spent his time reading or sleeping. It was a win win basically.\n\n\nFred was halfway through an article on wooden doors when one of the monitors near him started to beep. 'Goddammit what is it now?' he grumbled. To be honest he was almost dozing off and now this thing made him wide awake again. A green flashing light indicated the radar had picked up something. \"Please dont be another dead guy,\" he thought to himself. A few months ago the exact same thing had happened and it had turned out to be a dead guy floating in the bay. Well, most of a dead guy anyways. He had to stay all night, telling what happened to four different cops ('I was sitting there then the radar started to bleep, checked it out, saw it was a dead guy and called you guys') and then had to fill in a bunch of forms and stuff. All that for some dead guy.\n\n\nHe eyed the radar and his eyes widened. This wasnt a dead guy. This thing was huge. Couldnt be a boat though, didnt have a radio transponder or beacon or anything. Still, the radio was worth a shot. \"Erhm...This is New York Harbor to incoming vessel, please identify yourself. You have no permission to enter the bay or dock here, please identify yourself. This is New York Harbor, please identif...' Suddenly he was interrupted by the loud sound of a foghorn blowing through the night sky. 'What the hell?' Fred dropped the radio and went outside of his shack to look at what was in the bay. No chance of this being a floating island of plastic. Floating garbage doesnt have a foghorn.\n\n\nHe looked outside and he could not have been prepared for what he saw. He had to think back to make sure he hadnt been using any kind of drugs but he was sure he was clean. He hadnt dared to smoke pot on the job ever since his boss almost caught him that one time. What he saw was incredible. A giant steamliner ship was slowly passing by him. It was like a floating apartment block passing by. \n\nAnd yet there was no radio or transponder or pretty much anything that pointed to this being a ship. Looked pretty old to. Three giant chimneys puffing out smoke. Fancy barricades and windows and everything. This looked like a luxury cruiseship. But there wasnt supposed to be any more ships coming in tonight. If she follows basic ship rules her name should be painted on the bow somewhere, he thought. The ship was now halfway past him, so he had to run a while untill he reached the front untill he could read the name. \n\n'No fucking way,' he said. He pulled out his phone and called his boss. Th ephone rang for quite a while untill his tired sounding boss picked up. 'Fred, what is it? This better not be another sighting of that white whale you claimed to see a few months ago.' 'Yeah so uhm theres this ship that came in that was not in the log anywhere.' 'And? Just tell them they cant dock unless they're approved and once they got the needed paperwork they'll have to wait untill we give them a designated time.' 'Yeah well uh the thing is this ship doesnt have a radio. Theres no way for me to speak to the captain. Besides its kinda supposed to be..at the bottom of the ocean. Boss what I'm saying is: the Titanic just sailed into our motherfucking bay.' 'Thats it Fred first thing tomorrow I'm having you take a drug test and I swear if it turns out to be positive then...'\n\n\nBut Freds never learned what would happen to him since his boss was interrupted by the foghorn going again. 'What the hell was that Fred?' 'Well sir that would be the foghorn of the Titanic. If I remember naval history correct its to celebrate a safe arrival sir.' 'Ok so Fred I'm going to come check it out, just stay there.'\nOf course I'll stay here where else would I go, idiot, muttered Fred to himself.\n\n\nHalf an hour later his boss arrived and the two men stood on the docks, gaping at the ship. 'Holy crap it really is...' 'I told you.' 'Yeah but I didnt expect it to be really..' They could see figures appear on deck. 'Who are they? What are they doing?' Like I have all the answers here, Fred thought. 'Well they appear to be preparing to dock the ship, boss. They stood watching another five minutes untill Freds boss started calling his bosses. And they didnt believe it either, untill he convinced them to come take a look. And then they called their bosses, and so on. \n\nSoon a small crowd had gathered on the docks, all watching the Titanic dock in New York Harbor. And then the ship started unloading. Planks were dropped and people started flocking off the ship. Except it they weren't really people. More like..ghosts or something. They walked and chatted like people but they wouldnt respond to anything the people on the docks said. In fact they walked straight through a part of the crowd. This was some really strange stuff. Fred tried speaking to someone in a sailors outfit but the man didnt appear to hear him. He saw someone with a captains outfit walk off and overheard him talk to a sailor: \"Bit late on schedule, but better late than never I suppose!' and they both bursted out into laughter.\n\n\n'So...does anybody have an idea to what we do about this?' someone asked. 'Well actually I might have an idea. My cousin had some problems with his old grandma's house, something about it being haunted by ghosts or something.' 'Hah, ghosts, only idiots believe in that,' a man snorted. 'Well my friend, how would you describe that,' said another, pointing at the docked Titanic and the crowd disembarking off it. The first guy didnt reply. 'As I was saying, my cousin had some problems with ghosts, and he called some guys to get rid of them. Like exterminators, but for ghosts instead of for bugs. Told me they got rid of the problem in no time. Want me to give him a call and ask for their number?'\n\n\nThe men looked around and nodded. It wouldnt hurt to call some guys who might knew a thing or two about ghosts. It wasnt like anyone else knew someone with an expertise on ghosts. Fred dialed in the number and waited for the call to connect. What was their slogan again? \n\nSomething like 'When theres something strange in your neighborhood, who you gonna call? Ghostbusters!' Well this was something strange in the neighborhood allright..." ]	4
	[WP] For the brief moment when the sun is blocked out during the peak of a solar eclipse - they become visible.	[ "No one can see us. But they know we are there. They feel it. We are that sensation behind the hear during the night, when they feel observed and there is none around; they turn themselves to find only a bunch of clothes, with an anthropomorphous shape, on the chair. We are a strange shadow when the curtain lift up due to the summer wind, enveloping a moonlight ray in a frame of cloth. We are the weight on the pillow when the eyes start to close and the thought start to flow so fast that they seem unreal. No one have ever seen us, but kids ask to check under the bed to verify that we are not in there, but we are, and we look them straight into the face but the parents don't see us; we protract our finger to caress a sleeve and they feel nothing. \n\nBut we are always with them, close or far. They can deny to feel us, but they can't ignore that we are there. Even if everyone of us knows that the negation toward ourselves is the strongest existing. There is nothing stronger then truth: and if you are totally convinced of something, that will be the truth. We are as much as them and we influence their life, we command it, in a certain way. We look between us, we know and recognize each others, love or hate, study, comprehend, look into each other so they can say that they had an intuition, a spark of understanding towards someone; the assurance of truth with no proof. Some believe to have a sixth sense, but instead they are just communicating with one of us, choosing to negate us just a little less that all the others. \n\nIt is that what they see in the mirror is not real, their idea of themselves it is nothing more than an idea. We are real and even if the strength of their negation constrain us to live like shadows, if we disappeared, they would be lost. But we couldn't know what would happen at the opposite, it never actually happened. When the eclipse covered the sun and a strange and unreal light fell on us, all looked up, to see the show, scared as if the eclipse was the omen to something bad. When someone started to see around, the world seemed to crystallize in a second, the breath taken. I lowered the eyes on my person and met his, while he was looking straight at my face, not recognizing me, but understanding, fast: the bound between us strongest then ever, with what I knew flowing inside him who finally understood, stopped to deny and saw me. And the same for all the other around us. For the first time in front of a mirror that earned that name. \n\n\"I don't know you\" he said. And immediately after \"You are me, the real me\". \n\nThen the sun started to shine again, while the moon moved into its course.\n", "It has been almost ten years since I last saw her. Today, I will see her again.\n\nI remember the last time; It was a cool summer's evening in 1998 and I was sat back on the long grass at my mother's feet, playing with dandelions while excitement milled around me. A field of indistinct figures gestured enthusiastically towards an ominous sky, dark glasses and used CDs in hand. The buzz of the crowd rose as the clouds darkened, and then abruptly dropped to a whisper. The last smudge of light winked out, and all faces turned to look above. The whole world looked away, but I watched her.\n\nShe sat beside me on the grass and smiled at me with crystal blue eyes, framed by delicate blonde ringlets. I offered her my dandelion. She laughed and turned away, her soft face - no older than my own - lit with a gentle sadness. We sat together in silence for precious moments, until the murmur of the crowd returned and she was gone.\n\nSince that day, I have waited for another chance. The rest of the world may have forgotten her - another tragedy, another 'sorry for your loss' - but I will not forget. She was my sister, and today, I will see her again.", "Terrible things. Awful things. Look up, look down, just don’t look around you or you’ll join them. Or join the mad. Those are the two things that happen. There is no third option. They’ll take you away and no one ever returns from that. No one. Or you become a blubbering, babbling fool, deposited away in a dark corner of an asylum. \n\nThey ooze into existence, first just shadowy shapes from your darkest nightmares at first. Then they become more real as the eclipse becomes full. They only have an effect during that short, short time period, so be quick. Look away. Find somewhere else to look. They can’t touch you then. \n\nHorrific beings, eyes on gelatinous surfaces. Eyes everywhere, always looking, always searching. Creatures whose very ability to move should be suspect but instead can give chase like a wolf after prey. Proboscises attached to malformed faces, elephantine limbs seeming to bumble along at incredible pace. Great beings made of shadow with glowing red eyes and claws that lash out from the dark. \n\nTurn away. Turn away and hide your eyes. Pray to your gods though they will not help you. They cannot help you against these horrors that walk our world unseen, save by an eclipse. Their monstrous forms alone leaving madness in their wake. \n\nYou cannot kill them, they shrug off your injuries as you are less than a flea to them. No, these creatures are gods themselves. The Great Old Ones who still look for the mad to worship them, for servants and victims. Those they can corrupt and mutate into forms that please them but madden and destroy the mind. \n\nThey are coming for me. I feel them. I saw them and they attempted to grab me and I was awash with horror when they leapt. But it was too late, the eclipse had ended, the sun slipping back out from behind the disk of the moon and they faded from the world the same they came in. \n\nYou cannot escape them. There is only until the next eclipse and I have fled for so long. And yet here I am, trapped as another eclipse will pass over my head. There is no God. He would not allow such abominations to arise. But I still pray that he will help me, that he will save me. Even though it is too late. They will come and they will take me. \n\nSo I leave this for you. Turn your eyes away. Look to the sky, even if your neck aches and the sun blinds you. Look to the ground, even if you hear screams and see blood. Look anywhere but to them. For they will take you. " ]	3
	[WP] Write about the last event in human history.	[ "Her name was Isabelle. She was eight years old. \n\nShe ran toward her mother holding a flower. Tall grass swished around her knees. She was happy. \n\nThe sun shone down on them.\n\nA low hum starts, and slowly grows louder. The sun's light fades. Fearing a thunderstorm, the mother takes Isabelle inside. \n\nThe temperature rapidly rises. The fathers car skids into the driveway. He's shouting something. The ground begins to shake. \n\nIsabelle drops her flower. " ]	1
	[WP] The protagonist of a video game thinks they have free will.	[ "\"We do it my way now!\" he yelled as the shots from the enemy TIE Defender pierced the cockpit, lowered my shields to zero and broke my aft radar display.\nI rolled my eyes as I heard the words from the computer. \n\n\"We have been over this!\" I sighed \"You can´t fly this TIE Advanced, Maarek. It is I who do it. I have the throttle here. I have the joystick here. I have all the commands on my keyboard. The cockpit you see is merely a representation. And I do not know why you complain. I got you to the rank of General. You are a member of the Emperors Secret Society.\"\n\n\"And yet there is something you do not tell me. I think it has to do with the Emperors victory at the Battle of Endor.\" \nI rolled my eyes. Ever since I completed the game for the first time, He had asked me if I had any news of the Emperors victory at Endor. What was I supposed to do? I could not show him Return of the Jedi... \n\n\"Incoming missile\" the game chimed, interrupting my toughts. \n\"Damn, do they ever run out of the fucking things?\"\n\"Yes, they have a limited number, genious. As do you\" Maarek commented snidely. \"And yet, you are crap at avoiding them. One hit will do us in!\"\n\"Fine. You take the controls\" I snapped back and let go of the Joystick. \"Save us, Oh Migthy General.\" \n\"Flight Control Systems are damaged!\" he yelled, almost in a panic. \"I cant manoeuvre, I cant adjust systems!\"\n\n\"That is my point\" I explained with a increasing degree of annoyance. \"I got the controls. You are just the protagonist of a story that I control.\"\n\"For the Emperor\" he said calmly into his headset as the missile slammed into the TIE Advanced, utterly ruining the craft and showing us the short cutscene as he was rescued and got medical attention for his wounds, soon standing in front of his commanding officer and being reprimanded for his failure. \n\"I wish you could stand here and take it instead of me\" he mouthed over the Officers shoulder. \n\"Fine, you are on your own. Gordon Freeman never gave me this kind of trouble\" \n\nAnd with that I pressed Escape and turned off the game. Did Maarek know that by doing so I put his entire existence in a stasis, until called for my amusement again? Probably not. But it would be safer not to tell him or I would never hear the end of it... \n", "I'm a man of instinct. That's how I've survived for so long. I run past the fallen enemy soldiers and quickly lean against a wall. There's an enemy soldier right around the corner. I don't see him but it's what my gut is telling me. I just always know for some reason, and I always trust it. That's how I've survived for so long. I crouch and wait. The moment it feels right, I move without hesitation. I wait a little longer. Now. I move around the corner, and I see his back facing me. I approach him quickly and in one swift move, I grab him and slit his throat. He falls to the ground. I get my timing right every single time. I just have a knack for it. I stand above him, looking right at his lifeless body. I kill without hesitation, I know. If I felt any remorse, I wouldn't live for very long. Still, looking into the eyes of the man I just killed, I admit I do feel something. Then I crouch. My crotch is pressed deep against his deceased face. Then I stand. Then I crouch again. I repeat this a few times. It's a strange ritual I do every once in a while. Don't ask me why. I'm a man of instinct.", "Deadpool kicked back. \"Took long enough to get me my own game. One that isn't shit, huh guys?\" He turned to the camera with an overdramatic shrug. \"You know, I'm pretty damn hungry.\" He strolled to the fridge, grabbing a burger. \"Hmm. I don't know the control for taking my mask off. Can I even do that?\" He pulled at it and let out grunts. He sighed after many attempts. He threw the burger aside. \"Ok, well, at least we can go see the city.\" Minutes later he was strolling along the freeway, aimlessly ignoring the swerving cars and screaming children in the passenger seats of some. Nor did he acknowledge the corporation agents approaching in their truck. It got close and Deadpool heard a gunshot. He turned. \"What a bad aim, it's almost like they're enemy AI!\" He hopped and came down, the car swerving and the passenger seeing a flash of silver before his blood sprayed the driver. The driver screamed and crashed. Deadpool hopped on the hood, pulling him out. \"My, My, if only badly coded enemies could reply with more than one liners! \" The man squirmed and Deadpool tossed him over the side of the freeway. \n\nThe player came back in the room, chowing down on his delicious snack. \n\"Wait, what the hell, I didn't put the controller down on this level...\"" ]	3
	[WP] You were working as an undercover agent in enemy territory until your country lost the war. You decide to defect, settle down and attempt live out your life in peace among those who slaughtered your countrymen.	[ "They were celebrated when they came back. Parades were held, I went and cheered, after all, what was I supposed to do? I had spent the war as an assistant to a government official, it was a change from the cloak and dagger world, but the ennui was made up for with brief moments of pure terror, like the time I was caught with the military transport documents. Five minutes of improvisational terror on Saturday and I was ready to go sit at my desk on Monday. But then it all ended. \n\nI saw the end coming months before the president actually signed the surrender, after all, that is what I was trained to do, observe and report. I started erasing everything that would reveal my true identity, six years undercover had made me sloppy; keeping documents at home, sending uncoded messages, daytime dead-drops. I burnt my passport in my little stove that had kept me warm, it burned until all that remained were a few fragile ashes sitting atop a bed of orange coals. I poked the ashes until theyfell apart. I stopped talking to my handler, I’m sure she had better things to do, because she stopped trying to contact me. \n\n\nUp until then, I had subtly hinted at my possible homosexuality as the reason I was not fighting on the front lines; I started dating Hannah, my upstairs neighbor. The first few months were terrifying, I was always looking over my shoulder, sure that some hint of my past would catch up to me, I expected every knock on the door to be the Intelligence, there to black-bag me away. But as time went on, some clues emerged, my agency was never discovered, and allusions to its existence were, over time, treated as conspiracy theories. \n\nTwo years passed, every year I attended the victory parade, I waved my flag and cheered. Hannah always stood by my side and cheered louder than I did. This year, in her arms she holds Emile, who waves his flag in his chubby little hands and celebrates the death of all that I held dear. I wave my flag back at him, smile and swallow the lump in my throat.", "It was easier than it should have been. Maybe I should be thankful for that. If, if I hadn't had every single document to set me up for life, if I hadn't had the perfect cover, if I hadn't been trained so thoroughly, so completely, I might have returned. Given myself up. We'd lost the war so I suppose I'd have been sent home, as the POW camps were slowly emptying.\n\nInstead, I stayed. My parents were dead. I can't visit their graves now. I never did, even Before. It's funny how everything is divided into Before and After. Before I slipped on my new identity, Before it stopped being a mask and started being me. My father died when I was twelve and we were not very close, I suppose, but I loved him, and him me, and I would like to be able to go to his grave if I wanted to, one day far into the future. He missed the war. He never saw the home he'd worked to buy bombed. He never saw his wife die just five years later, he never saw me grow up either. Sometimes I am irrationally angry because he died loving his daughter and I am not her any more. \n\nIn this world, in this world which used to be so foreign, so strange, and is now almost too familiar, my parents died together when I was but a child. I have no memory of them. I spent half of my life in the UK with an aunt but moved back when I was eight after she remarried. We spent our years travelling around the country and I rarely went to school for more than three months which was why I have few old schoolmates, eventually settling down in a small, rural area, devastated by the war. I worked on my aunt's farm in the southwest. But she had been killed by a firebomb and it all went to my uncle, who disliked me. I was left with nothing and I was homeless. Many people were after the war. We were the victors and yet we had nothing. I worked my way up, charities were set up and I was helped out. I had always been bright and I was good with my hands and I hoped to have my own business soon. I was the hope for the future. Our land had been shattered, our country almost destroyed, but our determination had not been. We had won this war and we would go on.\n\nAnd the daughter my father had loved, she had lost. Her country had lost the war they'd started and she was missing, presumed dead. She had done her duty but she had not done it well enough. She was not alive to see the ruins of the flat she had once lived in. Every person who knew about her identity, about her job, about her, was dead or soon would be. Her name would not be on a memorial. But she was a hero. And her old friends mourned her. They remembered their childhood games and the terrible jokes and the girl who loved her father and who's father loved her." ]	2
	[WP] You are one of three living on the red planet. The next supply of food and water arrives in 6 months. You only have 2 months worth of food and water.	[ "Year 2, month 6. Survivors left, 4. Survivors at Camp, 3. Amount of food left, 2 months worth. \n\nWe were supposed to be the saviors, we were supposed to save the world. We were supposed to live and prosper! It seems no matter where you go, problems will follow. \n\nThere were initially 4 of us. An Engineer, a Marine, a Doctor, and an Astronaut. It was all good just a week ago. We were making progress into setting up the camp and getting ourselves situated. This project had been ongoing. We were the 4th crew to come, with the same expertise categories. We all thought it strange for a Marine to come along. Seeing as how we had found no sign of life in our previous scans years ago. These were the rules though, we didn't think much of it and followed along. Everyone likes to think they have protection along the way. \nLaunch day. Everyone is nervous, except the marine of course. Our plans for the day were to launch off around 12 and we should be to mars sometime in the next day. Once there, we were to rendevous with the crew that was there, and return home. \n\nArrival. \nWe arrived in the strostphere of the Big Red Planet. Solar storms were raging on, we could barely see our LZ. After not being able to correctly find the LZ via the Astronaut's vision, the Engineer begs him to use the crafts geographical landing mechanism, which lands you where you want based on previous scans of the plant. The Astronaut agrees and switches it into auto. \n\nWaiting. \nWaiting. \nWaiting.\nThen we here the sound. The next crew has left. No goodbye, no hello. Nothing. We were caught in a storm for a couple hours and the crew leaves without saying anything to us. \n\nFinally.\nThe storm dies down. The astronaut, Buzz, tells the Marine to help him unload the craft. Which they do. As we are flying into our decontamination station, I notice something off. Everyone seems to be perspirating and giving off signs of nervousness except for one person. The Marine. Which was odd, we're on a new planet, all we have is protocol. How can he be so calm? I go continue to watch him. \n", "\"The solution is obvious. Only one of us will survive. Thus I have a way of determining it.\" I said. Henry and Al looked skeptically at one another. \n\nI continued, \"Here is what we will do. At the same time we will all yell out a number 1-5. We will add those numbers and then count starting with me and then going clockwise. Whoever gets picked will live. The other two will die, by taking off their helmets. OK?\" \n\nHenry said, \"How can we trust you? Couldn't you rig it.\" \n\nAl responded, \"No Henry. It is pretty straightforward, and cannot be rigged. Lets do it.\" \n\nHenry, Al and I glanced at one another. We made a small semi circle and readied ourselves. I said into the microphone in my helmet, \"Ready, 3...2...1..Go!\" \n\nI had thought of a plan if I had lost and if I had won. Surprisingly, it would be much better for me to lose the game. For the winner of the game does not have the certainty that the other two won't renege on their end of the deal...\n \nI said, \"1!\" I heard two other numbers of 3 and 4. Henry and Al were shaking with fear and I was too though I tried not to show it. I began, \"1+3+4=8.\" I began the count. Me, Al, Henry, Me, Al, Henry, Me, Al. \n\n\"Al wins.\" I proclaimed. Al gave many nervous glances at Henry and I. I took one look at Henry and he knew as well what was bound to happen. \n\nHenry and I jumped at Al as quickly as we could in the Martian atmosphere. \"WTF are you doin-\" Al screeched. Henry held Al as tightly as he could and I began taking off Al's helmet. It was hard at first, but eventually I found the spot that made it work. It was much easier than I had expected...\n\nAl's face went from fear to gasps for air as his arms and legs flailed around helplessly. I yelled to Henry, \"Hey pin him \n\nHenry responded, \"Why!?! He is almost dead already!\" \n\nI answered, \"Just to be sure, god dammit!\"\n\nHenry pinned Al's helpless body to a large rock nearby. I did what had to be done. I went on top of Henry who was on top of Al and lunged for his helmet.\n\nHenry responded with anger on the mic, \"You treacherous mother fucker!\" \n\nI found the spot and Henry's head beginning to be swallowed up by the harsh atmosphere. I went as far away as I could go from their two lifeless bodies. What had I done?!?\n\nI reached our camp, went inside and took off my gear. I put my head in my hands and sobbed. I then reached over to the food packs and took out a pack of Ramen noodles. I guess I was chosen then...according to the rules." ]	2
	[WP] In the deepest darkest most hidden piece of forest, something stirs and awakens.	[ "POLICE REPORT FILE# 06745A\n\nDR. PETY DOUGSON-JOURNAL\n\nDay 0: My name is Pety Dougsin, the director of the great New Mexico forest reserve. The New Meixco reserve is home to several unique species of bio luminescent mosses. the forest glows in a specturm worthy of song every night. Tomorrow I will lead an expidition many miles into the forest, to the 500 year old exclusion zone, to see what uninhibited evolution has created! This is to be my journal of the expidition, may who ever read this hopefully find something of interest. Maybe by the end of the month we will have found some new mosses! Nature can do some impressive things left alone for such a time.\n\nDay1. Met with Jam and Pim at the office to head to the trail. Food and water are in abundance in the forest, so packing was light. Few changes of clothes, pins and specimen containers, books and papers and a bag of dice. Jam carries the tent; more than large enough for us all, and Pim is responsible for gathering the food and water. We departed at 8 AM, and walked several hours to the first base camp, occupied by Robert Anguil, a field researcher. Robert has been studying a particular pool of water that animals seem to prefer heavily to any other source. Roberts tests on the water show a fairly high amount of carbohydrates in the water! He plans on diving in soon to see what he can find. Jam bet me 10 dollars it is from underwater berries the fool! We depart tomorrow for the next outpost, a much smaller unoccupied place several miles further.\n\n\nDay 3: an hour into our journey yesterday a great god decided to empty his bath onto us. We slogged through mud and wet for hours to reach the outpost. It still rains heavily today, we will depart as soon as the weather permits. There might be plenty of food and water around, but I sure should have brought along some coffee.\n\nDay 4: yesterday was a complete loss due to the weather. Today brings us the perfect mix of sun, and the clud that blocks the sun for you as soon as you grow tired of the rays. I noticed an odd thing today too! Another pool with a large abundance of creatures. Flies of dragons and house, deers, steers and mares, squirrels and chipmunks all alike gathered around to drink this water. I have taken a sample for Robert. Jam has also now accepted Pims 10 dollar berry bet. We are in the tent tonight, and by this time tomorrow we will be at head researcher Andrews lab!\n\nDay 6: Travels were quite uneventful, however Dr.Andrews has an immense lab here. He too has noticed the gatherings of animals by the pools, and tells of pools that appear to be tainted a milky brown color. He being a mucher braver person than Jam Pim or myself has drank this water, and says it is surprisingly sweet. Maybe Jam is on to something, maybe some new plant species is adding carbohydrates to the water! Fascinating! We depart three days walk to the final outpost.\n\nDay 10: arrived at the final outpost. The door was left opened, so the inside became overgrown. On the way here I counted 11 of these peculiar pools. Pim decided to drink from one, and her report is the same as Dr.Andrews. tomorrow we get a very early start for the final multi trip to the exclusion zone. Im sure going to miss coffee tomorrow, I can almost smell it.\n\n\nDay 12: we have traveled as far as Dr.Andrews him sef has ventured. Slightly colored water pools gather entire herds, flocks, roosts and gangs of animals. Jam and i decided to drink from one as well, seeing Pim had no adverse reactions to it. It was actually quite good. If Im ever sure it wont kill me I would drink gallons!\n\nDay 15: Today a great find! A river flowing of this brown water, the source of the pools lies at the source, not in each pool. (Reminder for yourself to collect that bet!) I took many samples from this river. I do hope the source is in the exclusion zone.\n\nDay 17: We are now days further along than any human has been in this forest for decades. Tomorrow we shall reach the edge of the exclusion zone! The trip has been wonderful so far, so much beauty. The mosses grow so thick here I d not even need a light to write this entry!\n\nDay 18: We have reached the exclusion zone! Pim Jam and I celebrated with a bottle of wine that Jam carried all this way, the dog! Tomorrow we depart for the center of the exclusion zone.", "\"Ugh... oh man... what time is it? Oh hell no! It's almost midnight! Damn I'm gonna be late!\"\nKethron the Earth Monster rose from his bed of leaves, twigs, and sticks. \n\"Damnit, why do these crazed worshipers have their rituals so late? What do they expect me to do? Shoot 5 Hour Energy every Tuesday? Damn.\"\nKethron wrestled with his pajamas, trying to get them off. His pajamas showed a nice green pattern of trees and leaves.\n\"Hastern and Drothno are SOOOO lucky. They don't have to have stupid looking attire and a stupid realm to watch, protect, and guard. They get fire and water. What do I get? Earth. What a joke.\"\nKethron struggled to fit into his Toyota Prius. \n\"Gods be damned. Why do I get a Prius as a work vehicle? Yeah, I know, Earth and stuff, gotta be green and stuff, but I'm a monster. This is ridiculous.\"\nDriving through the forest, Kethron's Nokia rang. He picked it up.\n\"Yes, hello? Who is it?\"\n\"Kethron, it's 12:09 AM. Why aren't you here?\"\n\"Yeah I'm sorry Jastor, I just forgot to set my alarm. Won't happen again.\"\n\"Sorry isn't going to cut it. There are people here, SLAUGHTERING your worshippers!\"\n\"WHAT?!\" \nKethron was so surprised by this news, he dropped his Nokia on the floor of the Prius.\n\"Son of an Earth Mother...\" he grumbled.\nAs he bent down to pick it up, his hands slipped and the car swerved into a tree.\n\"AUGH!\" yelled Kethron as the Prius collided into the tree.\nHe stepped out of the car and surveyed the damage. His Prius was definitely going to need to go to the shop. He snatched his Nokia from the floor of the car and saw that his boss had hung up. Quickly, he opened the glove box and grabbed the YellowPages and looked for a towing company that seemed as if it wouldn't be too expensive. " ]	2
	[WP] You’re trying to subtly figure out if your girlfriend is secretly an android.	[ "\"What do you think of this necklace?\" \n\nAnna looks at me expectantly. Shit. She never asks me jewelry questions. \n\n\"It looks... Tacky.\" That's a good word. Tacky. Girls say that all the time. \n\n\"What? Really? I think it's totally chic.\" Oh crap, that wasn't right. Quick, back it up, or she'll never value your opinion. \n\n\"Well. I just think you need something smaller,\" I fumble, \"You know. To show off your collarbone more.\"\n\nAnna pauses and reevaluates the pile of linked stones in her hand. \"You're right. You always are.\" Mission accomplished: +3 trust points. The sooner I can win her acceptance and get her into bed, the sooner I can find out if she's my type. \n\nThe salesman snorts a little. Cheap boyfriends are probably not their target audience. He gestures to another cabinet nearby. \"Perhaps take a look at some of our... More elegant chains.\"\n\nAnna nods, setting the chain on the counter. She steps over to the cabinet, and something catches her eye on the bottom shelf. She crouches down to get a better look. \n\nHer tight pants pull down a little, just enough. My breath hitches. I can make out the edge of a dark tattoo on her hip. Oh my god, I might get a chance sooner than I thought. No need to get her out of her clothes to check. I lean over, straining to see... \n\nThe top half of the Apple logo greets me. \n\nGoddammit. ", "\"Babe where do you want to go for dinner?\"\n\n\"I think Red lobster sounds pretty good how about..\" BLAM BLAM\n\n\"Two shotgun shells to the cranium should keep you down. I knew you were to good to be true when you said you enjoyed meeting my family and especially my mother. MY MOTHERS A TOTAL BITCH YOU DAMN MACHINE!!!\"" ]	2
Go into some detail about how the thing was acquired, or the reason for selling it, too.	[WP] Write a Craigslist ad selling something very unusual or intangible.	[ "PAUL REED SMITH CUSTOM 24 1985 IN VINTAGE YELLOW, MINT CONDITION-$600\n\nIf you're looking for a reliable and great sounding axe, this PRS is for you. Bought it at a garage sale a few decades ago and it still rocks. Have to get rid of it because money's tight right now.\n\nVintage yellow finish, two volume controls, two tone controls, pre-strung with Ernie Ball Slinkys, a pair of creamy humbuckers and a slick rosewood neck with dot inlays. There are only two dents on it, one's on the headstock, and the other is on one of the tuners, but otherwise this guitar plays well. One other very, very minor thing is that this guitar cannot come into a 25-meter radius of animals or people with diabetes. Also, the guitar comes with this vial containing this liquid to clean the frets with though you have to do it every full moon. More details upon request.\n\nSo if you're a beginner or a pro, look no more. Contact me by e-mail or by my phone number 630-296-7536. SERIOUS REPLIES ONLY.\n\n\n\n\n\n", "hamilton astral properties\n\nBEST OFFER - DIGNITY (1, -male, chartreuse) [$99]\n\nmotivation (1, +female, indigo) [$5000]\n\nIndignation (5, various, bright to dark red) [$400]\n\ncharity (1, +, yellow-green) [$0]\n\nMUST GO, IMPULSIVENESS (1, ++MALE) [$1000]\n\nSlightly used joie-de-vivres, limited time (2, +male and female, pale grey) [$100]\n\n---Click\n\nSlightly used joie-de-vivres, limited time (2, +male and female, pale grey) [$100]\n\nFemale joie-de-vivre belonged to my wife. Not compatible with me, as my male index is high. Have attached photo of color. Male version belongs to me. Photo unavailable but probably paler grey. Please pick up before the end of the week.\n\n* do NOT contact me with unsolicited services or offers\n\n{CONDITION: USED}\n\n---Clicky-Click... [Contact Seller]\n\nFROM: james.p74574@yahio.ca\n\nSUBJECT: joie de vive\n\nhello. my names is james. i am interested in both of your joie de vives. is the price for each or for both? is neutral female compatible with -male or --male? is +male astral extracted? how used? thank you. \n\n--Click... [SEND]\n\nBING-ding\n\n--Click... [INBOX - 1]\n\nHello James. I don't know about compatibility, so you have to come try it on for yourself. Not extracted. 100 dollars each. Female is 87 years old, male is 88 and counting. You have until Saturday. \n\n-Sent from my eNote7\n\n--Clicky-Click... [REPLY]\n\ni would like to come to try it on. is it ok to just buy female? ++male sounds damaged, is it damaged? any other offers? thank you.\n\n--Click... [SEND]\n\n--Clicky-Click... [YOUTUBE]\n-Click... [Silly cat does headstand. SO CUTE!]\n\nBING-ding\n\n--Click... [INBOX - 1]\n\nWon't know if it's damaged until after extraction. I can do it now if you like, and have a look. It isn't ++male, just +male. It might be damaged considering my wife died recently. I would rather they stay together. There may be other offers. If you're interested I can cut you a deal on the male one. \n..." ]	2

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