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[WP] In the future, instead of houses, most families own entire planets, that they can completely reshape with terraforming and nanobots. One day, someone crash lands on your planet...
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"\"Guess it wasn't a shooting star,\" Atlas thought, \"don’t know what the natives are going to make out of this.\n\nThe trail of smoke that cut the sky like an ugly scar ended somewhere in the forest that had been renamed so many times Atlas couldn’t recall its name. Hell, it was an ocean at one point.”\n\n“Better go see what divine intervention this turned into,” he mutters to himself.\n\nAtlas clicked his heels and what appears at first to be a cloud, but anyone who knows better can see it’s the little workers that makes Atlas’s dreams a reality. His worker bees.\n\nAfter a short flight over the forest-that-was-once-an-ocean, he comes across what the ‘shooting star’ was.\n\nA sphere. A dented sphere. A smoldering, dented, sphere.\n\n“Tsk, tsk,” clucked Atlas, “this will not do. Totally ruins the vibe I am going for with this forest….thing.”\n\nWith a mental command he sent a portion of the cloud to remove the blight from his landscape. When the nanobots get to the sphere though, they seem to wash over the surface. Unable to disassemble whatever material it is made from.\n\n“Oh ho..” Atlas’s interest was peaked. His nanobots were top of the line, his parents spare no expense when it came to his creative interests. Hovering near the sphere, Atlas starts to move from his cloud like he is walking down some stairs, as soon as his foot left the cloud, the nanobots moved to form a platform under his foot the approximate distance it takes to make a comfortable stride down.\n\nAtlas cautiously approached the anomaly that has landed in his playground, circling the sphere like a dog with a new toy. He approached the sphere, what he assumes is the front, as it was the part that wasn’t buried 4 feet in soil, and politely knocks on it.\nThe sound of the knock reverberates unlike any material Atlas has come across.\n\n“Hellooooooo,” Atlas beckons, “anyone in there? You are in the middle of my next project.”\n\nA minute passes. Two minutes. No sign of anything from the sphere.\n\n“Hmm. Rude,” Atlas pouts, “stupid rock.” Atlas kicks the sphere with the side of his foot.\n\nAs soon as his foot lands on the material, a hissing comes from object, a sound akin to one opening a carbonated beverage. An outline of a hatch appears, and melts away like liquid. Committed now, Atlas looks inside the sphere to find a person. A woman. Atlas had never been very good with women, they never seem to understand his unique outlook on life. She occupies most of the space in the sphere, clearly meant to hold one person.\n\nShe has a darker complexion, with dark hair to match. She looks to be around Atlas’s age as best as he can tell. There is a blood coming from her scalp, probably happened on impact, and explains why no one responded. The inside of the sphere has a bunch of red alarm screens, clearly indicating something had gone wrong.\n\nAtlas moved his way in to get a closer inspection of the occupant of this ‘vessel’.\n\nAs soon as he was a few inches from her face, her eyes fluttered open. They were a dazzling green. A green that Atlas could never create in his many forests and plains.\n\nAtlas was stunned. He didn’t know what to do.\n\n“Hi-,” he began. Her hands suddenly gripped the collar of Atlas’s jacket. “Help,” she whispered, as her eyelids started to droop, ‘he is coming.” The girl’s grip loosened and hands fell limp at her sides.\n",
"“Mom, when is dad coming back?” said Benjamin as he entered the garden dome.\n\nKira looked up from her planting and wiped her hands on her jumpsuit. “Just as soon as he gets done filling the cargo hold with all the supplies we need. Don’t worry, he’s bringing your jetbike in time for your birthday.”\n\n“I can’t wait to go out on my jetbike! We can go visit the moons, can’t we Mommy. I want to go really fast and… Hey Mommy, are we having a meteor shower today?”\n\n“What do you mean honey?”\n\n“Look, up there.”\n\nThousands of miles up in their small planet’s atmosphere, a bright streak was zooming toward the ground. Kira’s mind raced. Was Lowen back so soon? He always would descend much more slowly than that. Could he be having problems with the ship? Was it an asteroid? \n\nThe light descended lower and lower and they could see a large silver object headed directly for the home pod. BOOM! The object had crashed through the glass dome over their house and yard. Even from they were standing in the garden pod, they could see a huge burst of flames, smoke, and shards of glass and metal.\n\n“Lowen! Oh my god, I hope he’s okay. And our house!” Kira shrieked as she chased her son, who was running through the tunnels on his way to the home pod.\n\n“Sweetheart, we can’t go in there. We won’t be able to breathe.” Kira thought for a moment and then added, “Let’s get in the rover.”\n\nThe two changed their direction and rushed to the hanger where their vehicles were kept. They climbed into the atmosphere-controlled rover and took off in the direction of the crash. As they got closer, they could see that the silver object was not the ship that Benjamin’s father had taken on his supply station run. It was a perfectly spherical object covered in some sort of strange markings. It had been cracked open like an egg and was badly charred.\n\nKira covered her son’s eyes “Honey, I don’t think anyone could have made it through this.”\n\nAt just that moment, she saw a figure emerging from the ashes. It was a slim woman with reddish brown hair. It looked exactly like her. Kira screamed.\n\n“Who are you?” said Kira as she spoke through the rover’s microphone.\n\nA voice emanated from the being. “I am Kira. This is my home. My husband is Lowen. My son is Benjamin. I am here to replace you.”\n\nThe figure pulled a silver weapon from their suit and pointed it at Kira. She ducked away just in time to dodge the intense red beam that pierced the window of the rover. She kicked the propulsion into full gear and sped away. She took Benjamin to an underground bunker that she and Lowen had created for emergencies. She hid out and tried to devise a plan of action.\n\nIn the meanwhile, another silver vehicle slowly descended through the atmosphere. Lowen was at the controls and hummed to himself as he thought of how happy he would be to give Benjamin his new jet bike. When he had almost reached the ground, he noticed in horror that some other vehicle had shattered the home pod. He saw what appeared to be Kira running toward the ship. There was something different about her, he thought briefly, and then attributed it to shock.\n\n“Lowen, sweetheart!” said the female figure as he emerged from the ship. “Something terrible has happened. An alien being crashed here and then stole our rover and kidnapped Benjamin! She’s disguising herself as me! We have to eliminate her!”\n"
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Nothing that happens should be impossible, merely improbable. Could be about a superhero, an Indiana Jones esque adventure, anything, the only rule is everything that happens could happen.
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[WP] Write me a story where the plot is moved forward by luck and improbability.
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"There it is. His house. HIS house. Not even ten yards away. He will be the only one in it. He has no one in his life except you. Even then, he only wanted you around to torment. You two used to be the closest of friends as kids. However, things changed between you two as time went on. He was the luckiest guy alive. From running across ludicrous amounts of money to making the best of connections. The guy couldn't walk in to a room without being blessed by the gods somehow. Meanwhile, you were the exact opposite, from broken shoelaces to losing your wallet. You were even mistaken for a bank robber while walking to the grocery store. But your luck wasn't the only major difference. Despite stumbling into good circumstances constantly, he was never satisfied. He wanted more, he thought he deserved more. When he found twenty bucks on the ground, he would grow angry at it for not being a hundred. But you didn't care about your sour luck. You always made it through every poor circumstance, and that was enough for you. You found joy in life even despite your horrible luck. At first, he thought your optimism was amusing. As time went on, though, amusement became irritation, irritation became frustration, and frustration became hatred. He couldn't stand to see your smiling face. You didn't deserve to be happy. You were cursed by the unknown powers, yet you didn't care at all. His hatred became a grotesque obsession. Eventually, the friendship became bullying. You tried to stop him, to avoid him even. But no matter what you did, his cruelty would grow. You spent your early twenties desperately trying to escape him, until he locked you up. He made an underground shelter, right there in his backyard. He made it your prison. You suffered for three painstaking months. Then, your luck changed. As you lay there, chained to the ground, you here a loud popping noise. Turns out, when you rolled over, the manacle around your foot had cracked. Some poor schmuck must have molded it improperly. How fortunate. Odd. You stand up and look at the door. You are terrified to risk losing this change. You don't want to press your luck. And yet, you do. The door is unlocked. He must have forgotten to lock it after his last session of abuse. Either that or he was arrogant enough to keep it unlocked. Regardless, you stroll out of the building and right through his, once again, unlocked back door. You know this house. He grew up in it, and you had spent many nights here when you were younger, back when you were friends. You know where he sleeps, it is just up the stairs. You go to the laundry room first. The clothes you had on were filthy and torn. He was a similar build to you, so you take the shirt and jeans that were folded on the shelf located above the dryer. As you change, your body reminds you that you haven't had a decent meal since he made you gamble for food by coin toss. You never won. So you go to the fridge, and find some leftovers from a turkey dinner. Your favorite. You wolf it down, moaning at the taste. Now that you are satisfied, you decide to wake him. You stop by his study to grab his gun. It's an old six-shooter, no safety on it. Fully loaded. and right beside the gun is the coin he loves to taunt you with. Now, you will see just how well your luck became. You go up the stairs as quietly as you can, yet you stumble just at the top. But no noise comes from his bedroom. Wait, the light is on. Has he been awake this whole time? Wow, this is very fortunate. He's sitting on his bed, reading. He freezes as he sees you.\n\"What are you doing? How did you get out?!\"\n\"It was quite simple. I stood up, and I walked. Now it's my turn to lead the game. Here's what's going to happen. I am going to flip your stupid coin, but let's add a twist. I have already eaten. So if it lands heads-up, I kill you. However, if it lands tails-up, I will let you live.\"\nHe is silent, shocked at what's happening before him. You see the fear in his eyes and laugh. You flip the coin....\n\"Heads-up huh?\"\nWhat a lucky day for you.",
"Jeff stared down the imaginary line from the cue ball to the 3 ball, pretending to size up the easy shot into the table's side pocket. It was Mustache Martin's eight games to Jeff's four. It was now double or nothing, some 200 dollars were at stake. Jeff couldn't remember exactly how much; the liquor had set in two games ago. But that was how he wanted it. He was now laser focused on each shot, everything else background noise, hazy and out of focus. He imagined how much more fun baseball would be like this. \n\nJeff had spent a year in this small town developing a reputation of having a lucky streak in 9-ball. Sometimes he would have one, sometimes he wouldn't, but it didn't take many streaks to have that kind of reputation. In fact, apparently, it only took two. One of them happened on a Tuesday night four months ago, the other on a Thursday a little over a month ago. But they were big games. This was a big game for him too, and it had gone perfectly, until a certain thought occurred to him.\n\nIn 9-ball shots don't have to be called, so it's the perfect game in which to look lucky. Pull off a tough angle with a ricochet off another ball and shrug it off. Miss a hole by an inch and hit another ball in. Hit the 9-ball in on the break, or any other shot, and win. It's why Jeff loved this game. It's why everyone played it.\n\nBut now Jeff had a feeling it wouldn't end well. If he sunk the 9-ball on this shot, which he could as it was resting neatly behind the 7, Martin would want to play him again. Martin wasn't a heavyweight, but he was near the top. Jeff had lost to him again and again in preparation for this game, building up a one-sided rivalry that he knew Martin loved, but one he would fight to hang onto. If Jeff went on a tear and won with skill, not a single thing would change. And if he lost, well, Jeff would plead for another and Martin would tell him to go home and sleep it off. Jeff was in it for the long haul. He decided to hit the 9-ball in on this shot and get it over with. \n\nThe cue ricocheted off the 3, making it miss by a half an inch, kicked the 5 into the 7, which knocked the 9 neatly into the opposite corner. \n\nJeff pumped his fist, playing it like a lucky man playing it off like a skilled man. \n\nMartin scowled \"lucky son of a bitch,\" and threw down Jeff's some two hundred and another two hundred. \n\n\"You sure about that Stache?\" said Jeff, coming up to him like a close friend, \"I think I'm on a roll here, maybe it's best if we pick this up tomorrow, huh?\"\n\n\"You got a date or something? On a roll my ass. I'll roll your mama's ass.\" He laughed loudly over his shoulder to his corner of the room, which echoed back with less than half his vigor. \"Get your skinny ass back there and break.\" \n\nJeff did, looking happier than he felt. His goons looked ready for a fight. But they knew Jeff, he thought hopefully, they wouldn't suspect a thing now. He chalked up and waited for the rack. \n\nHe made the 9-ball on the break, something even he hadn't meant to do. \n\n\"Mother--!\" Martin barked, charging up to Jeff with an accusatory pointed finger, \"You playin' me?\" There was a screech as several of his goons rose quickly out of their chairs. \n\n\"Whoa, Martin, come on man that was a lucky break--\"\n\n\"Oh yeah, you're Mr. Lucky, I forgot,\" he said with a wry smile, inching closer. \n\nJeff backed away with his hands half raised, \"Look, I think we've both had a little too much to drink--\" he said in as non confrontational a way as his booze-addled mind could muster.\n\nMartin got closer, and whispered in a manner somehow as terrifying as it was unintentionally comical, \"you don't tell me how drunk I am.\" \n\nThe next thing Jeff knew he was being thrown out the door and onto the icy pavement, wondering how the hell this had turned out worse than he imagined. His goons laughed gleefully. Finally something was happening that they understood. \n\nMartin stepped over him, \"I should make you bite the curb you punk ass bitch! If I didn't already have your money!\" This got a roar of laughter from a select few onlookers. \n\nJeff knew there was only one way out of this. He turned over on his back. \"You lost, Martin! Fair and square! What you think I hit that 9-ball in on purpose?! You're drunk! Take my money, and no one here is gonna play you...\" \n\nMartin stared at him, working this all out, clearly unprepared for this kind of reasoned resistance. Then he smiled. \"Hey...man, I'm...I'm trippin.\" Then he kicked Jeff hard in the kidney, dropped the 800 dollars he owed him on Jeff's chest, and walked back inside. \n\nJeff staggered to his feet, collected the wet money off the ground and stuffed it in his shirt pocket, trying to figure out what in the actual hell had just happened, and if he'd ever be welcomed inside that place again. Martin's parting words were unclear on that subject. \n\nAs he thought this, he walked out onto the road and was hit by a bus. \n\nHe made a full recovery. The medical bill after insurance was 799 dollars. \n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] For once, the alien invasion force has done their homework. They're certain we are more capable combatants, but, given how we depict extraterrestrials in pop culture, they're also certain they can simply scare us into submission.
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"The giant yellow ship hung in the air in much the same way that bricks don't. A similar one was located over every major city and those with telescopes or other viewing devices could make out fine details, such as disturbingly organic looking pods reminiscent of egg cases lining the outer walkways and almost imperceptible distortions giving away the movement of unseen inhabitants. \nThe aliens had researched humanity well, looking into the most terrifying films and television. But only one alien had been truly indestructible. Only one had never been killed, or even truly injured in its attacks. This went some way to explaining that, when the smaller ships descended, looking almost like scales and, for no apparent reason, reminding people of fireworks, only a single being stepped out. The alien was small, no more than waist high, and its features couldn't be distinguished in the blackness beneath its crested green helmet, beyond a pair of bright white eyes. Its spacesuit was the colour of freshly spilt blood with a decay-green midriff and bone-white gauntlets and boots. It carried a small pistol in its gauntleted fist and stalked up to the gathered dignitaries. \nIt spoke in a surprisingly whiny voice, \"Now, you're all part of the empire. Isn't that lovely? Disagree and you get an earth-shattering kaboom!\"",
"There she was, talking in the TV in and UN conference, the pixie looking blonde with blue eyes in a colourful, exotic costume. She didn't look alien at all, more like a pixie child that could ever do any harm only if she felt like playing a prank. I actually could imagine it - her tapping on the other shoulder of the president of United states and then giggling when he looks the wrong way.\n\nAll of the aliens looked young, beautiful and most of them childlike with big shiny eyes and Kawaii costumes with bows, laces and flowery patterns as if they had come from an anime world. Even their ships looked colourful and somewhat awkward as if they weren't potentially deadly machines capable of interstellar travel.\n\nThe pixie queen looked at the camera as she was ready to give her speech. \"We are going to be great friends now.\" She smiled with her perfect, small teeth. \"We are going to work together for the betterment of this world. You have the need for us and we have the resources to help each and every one of you. Hunger, pollution, war. We will help. I hope, you will have the modesty to accept our help, and not look on us as aliens but sisters and brothers from the same universe and God.\"\n\nWhen the speech was over I looked back at the pixie in front of me. This 13-year old looking boy had showed in my room a few minutes ago uninvited and now we were staring at each other until he started speaking. \"That was a perfect speech. Awkward and cute. How would anyone expect us to do harm. Right? Nobody would believe if a certain someone would say that the new peaceful aliens, would hurt anyone. We are busy fighting the desert in Africa, giving advanced farming tools to the poor farmers of the world, cleaning up Chernobyl and mending conflicts between minorities and majorities in countless countries. Really - why would we bother with you?\"\n\nHe sat next to me in my cushy coach, then took the remote and changed the channel. I saw bloggers, TV personalities and celebrities flying in zero gravity, reaching our moon and exploring a close fly-by come. The aliens had taken them on a tour. They all were in awe while they did interview statements of how awesome the aliens were.\n\n\"Why me?\" I was sweating like a pig, my lips trembling asking the question. Why did the aliens would bother to shut me up. All I did was go to work and browse reddit all day.\n\n\"Well, you are a professional marketing specialist. And an avid commentator. Also -you have an idea what we are up to and how exactly we are going to reach our goals.\"\n\nI shut my eyes waiting for a blast from a gun or some odd alien technology. \"Then do it quick.\"\n\nHe laughed. \"You silly, silly man. Do you really think killing the opposition helps our public image?\"\n\nI opened my eyes and exhaled. \"Then what?\"\n\n\"I am simply here to tell that we know what you do on the internet and if our image gets even teeny itsy bit spoiled by any of your remarks, in real life or on the internet, we might just let the world know of your secrets.\"\n\n\"But...\"\n\n\"You really think you deleted them? The pictures? Or how you enjoyed yourself while looking straight in the camera, that you thought was turned off.\" He got off the coach and returned the remote to me. \"Let's be great friends and let's not harm each other, alright?\"\n\nMy heart raced like a rabbit dog. I might get a heart attack like this.\n\n\"I need you to say it. That you will be positive in your statements about us. Truly positive, no sarcasm or hidden meaning between the lines. Alright.\"\n\n\"Alright... just don't-\"\n\n\"As long as you keep up your end of the bargain.\" He winked at me and went for the door.\n\nBut before the pixie-boy left I mustered out a question, surprised I could gather enough courage for a single word: \"Why?\"\n\n\"Why such a race like us, who has mastered interstellar travel, terra forming and everything else you dream of bother with a game like this? Your planet has nothing we need, except...Well... We just like to fuck with you.\"\n",
"\"They said I was mad.\" Said an old man, taking a drag from his corncob pipe. \"Told me I've gone absolutely mental.\"\n\n\"Why is that?\" Asked a young journalist, pen and paper in hand.\n\n\"People didn't want to believe me. I been sayin' the same thing since 2000.\"\n\n\"Saying *what*, exactly?\" Said the journalist, tapping his pen on his chin absentmindedly.\n\n\"That they're here. I could smell them. Nobody thought to follow through on those voting machines in, ah, where was it now... Florida, Ohio? I can't remember.\"\n\n\"What did the voting machines have to do with the aliens?\" He asked, scribbling down the old man's rantings.\n\n\"He's not human. I think he was at some point, but they did something to him. George Bush Jr. was an alien. Or at the very least he was an alien peon. Having a feeble mind makes it easy for them to control you, you know. People would joke about how Bush was secretly behind 9/11. But not at first. At first everybody bought it at face value, angry, lusting for the sweet taste of revenge, paid for with GI blood. It was *them*. They planned it, it was the beginning of the end for us all.\" The man took another drag off his pipe while the visitor continued writing.\n\n\"Can you go into a bit more depth? How did 9/11 become the marker for the invasion?\"\n\n\"They needed a Goldstein. A demographic, geographic target to pin it on. They feed off of our blind hatred, fear is the easiest way to control us. They had figured it out so they wouldn't even show their hand proper.\"\n\n\"You're saying Bush didn't do 9/11?\"\n\n\"No, no. The man didn't, but his alien counterpart did. But that's just the beginning, after that they managed to convert most of the crusty old senators and pass questionable bills like the PATRIOT Act. They were cheeky enough to push it right in front of us! But it didn't stop their, they created some of the world's largest social networking sites to better analyze us and to push fake news stories. They're the ones putting the police brutality videos everywhere. They want us to be scared to do anything that might upset their status quo. Let me ask you something, have you heard of the movie *They Live*?\"\n\n\"No, can't say I have.\"\n\n\"Sometimes I wonder if the aliens saw that movie and based their invasion off of it. Anyway, in the movie the aliens put subliminal messages on advertisement to 'marry and reproduce' and to 'obey'. That's exactly what these guys did, except you didn't need Hoffman Lenses to see them. Some people are naturally immune to their tactics, like myself. I can smell them on everything they've touched. I never even signed up for Facebook or even Gmail because the smell was too damn strong.\"\n\n\"You could... smell... the aliens? Did you have to actually sniff the screen?\"\n\n\"No, it's more like synthesia but with scents. Except it was this gift that ultimately brought them to light. Sometime around the 2020s all media was so saturated with their stink that people like myself searched for others with the same condition, initially in conspiracy forums and later in groups gathered in secret locations. We all knew something was up, most of us were old enough to remember life before the smell, myself included. We started gaining the attention of law enforcement, and it wasn't until the Grumman Incident that it was finally made public that we had covertly been overrun by these hostile aggressors.\"\n\n\"Would you mind telling us a little about the actual war with the aliens? Not the covert operations, but when humanity revolted?\"\n\n\"I - hmm. Maybe some other time, kid. My tired old bones are aching and need to rest.\"\n\n\"Well it was nice to finally meet you. We've been looking forward to this interview for months.\"\n\nThe two shook hands, and the man left the building. He turned around shortly after leaving and looked up at the sign laid across the top of the doors, a sign that read 'Saint Mary's Mental Hospital'."
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[WP] Use a credit card statement to tell a story
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"09/23/2014 | Sara's Secret .... $50\n\n09/23/2014 | Four Seasons .... $175\n\n09/23/2014 | The Melting Pot .. $250\n\n09/24/2014 | Four Seasons .... $175\n\n09/25/2014 | 7-Eleven .... $35\n\n09/25/2014 | AT&T Family Bundle ..$200\n\n09/25/2014 | Proflowers .... $25\n\n\n10/01/2014 | Dr. R.J. Khan, Family Counseling .... $450\n\n10/11/2014 | Dr. R.J. Khan, Family Counseling .... $450\n\n10/21/2014 | Dr. R.J. Khan, Family Counseling .... $450\n\n10/23/2014 | Feinberg & Fray, Attorneys at Law .. $560\n\n10/23/2014 | CheaperThanDirt!Guns&Ammo .... $350\n\n10/23/2014 | Withdrawal, Regular Checking **** . $15,000\n\n10/23/2014 | Deposit, \"Baby Girl's College Fund!\" **** $15,000\n\n\n11/01/2014 |Withdrawal, \"Baby Girl's College Fund!\" **** $11,900\n\n11/01/2014 | Proflowers Arrangements .... $150\n\n11/01/2014 | Tolleson Caskets- Adult (2) .... $5,000\n\n11/01/2014 | Grayson St. Funeral Home .... $6,700",
"08/26/2013 | Offices of Dr. James N. Reneldin, PsyD ..... $200\n\n09/03/2013 | Offices of Dr. James N. Reneldin, PsyD ..... $200\n\n09/09/2013 | Offices of Dr. James N. Reneldin, PsyD ..... $200\n\n09/16/2013 | Offices of Dr. James N. Reneldin, PsyD ..... $200\n\n09/23/2013 | Offices of Dr. James N. Reneldin, PsyD ..... $200\n\n09/30/2013 | Offices of Dr. James N. Reneldin, PsyD ..... $200\n\n10/07/2013 | Offices of Dr. James N. Reneldin, PsyD ..... $200\n\n10/15/2013 | Offices of Dr. James N. Reneldin, PsyD ..... $200\n\n10/21/2013 | Offices of Dr. James N. Reneldin, PsyD ..... $200\n\n10/28/2013 | Greenberg Guns and Ammo ..... $600\n\n11/04/2013 | Franklin Funeral Home ..... $4000"
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[WP] Death shed a single tear.
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"\"It is time, darling, for me to pass.\" The old man spoke with a wispy voice. \n\n\"I know, my love. But I will never forget you or the joy you brought to my life through all these years. Nor will your children, or even their children, forget you. You have done great things in your time on this planet, among which the greatest is giving life to two whole generations of beautiful human beings. You have done all that you can; all that you should.\" She held his hand tighter. \"We all shall stand with you until the end.\" \n\n\"Thank you all for seeing me off to the afterlife. If I can get a word in with God, I'll make sure to vouch for you all.\" He chuckled into a fit of coughing. \"Thank you all.\" \n\nHe began to stare off through the ceiling of the hospital room. And with one last sigh, he closed his eyes. The machine next to him rang continuously until the doctor shut it off. \n\nDeath stood by the old man's side, and shed a single tear as the scythe slowly rose. \"Goodbye, old man.\" He sobbed. The blade then drove down into the man's chest, ripping the soul from the wrinkled body. ",
"Death always found it a little sad when a young child passed.\nThe gift of life taken from them before they could really experience it to the fullest.\nBefore maturity would soil them and become corrupted with sin.\n\nThis one passed of leukemia. A five-year old girl with black hair, brown eyes and brown skin. Indian, Death recalled. \n\n\"Hello there\", he said.\n\nThe girl looked like she awoke from a dream. She was scared. They usually were when they woke here. They may hear stories of Purgatory through the faulty translations of God's work, but they never really expect his realm to be like this.\n\nFor now, it looked like her room. The room was quite barren, six bunk beds stuffed in a room, little fresh air and dirt everywhere. The walls were grey and somber, never blessed with some proper paint are care. It felt empty. Might have had something to do with the fact that she had eleven siblings that usually patrolled the room.\n\n\"Uncle Aarohi ? You're back ?\", she asked.\n\nHe'd taken the from of a man he had quided to the next lands not long ago. He was her uncle who passed away from liver failure not too long ago. They both had the same eyes. He'd had a larger, more strict jaw and a pot belly. He smiled nicely.\n\n\"Hello Kodhai. It's nice to see you again\".\n\n\"Where's mommy ?\", she said as she pulled her covers to her mouth.\n\n\"Mommy is a little busy at the moment, she asked me to take care of you for some time. Let's go for a walk\", he said as he held out his hand.\n\nShe took it slowly as she rose out of her bed.\n\n\"I don't feel sick anymore\", Kodhai said with gleeful suprise.\n\nShe didn't even ask where he was, or where she was, or how she woke up in her own room when she died in a hospital bed. Purity like this in a human was rarely seen.\n\n\"That's good. Come, let's find your grandparents. They should be around here somewhere\".\n\nShe smiled and walked out of the small room into a door made of light, ahead of Death. \n\n*Moments like this made the job almost worthwile*, Death thought as he shed a single tear\n"
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[WP] A pandemic has swept the globe killing all humans over the age of 18, you are a young survivor living in Rome 5 years later.
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"\"Jack, wake up.\"\n\nDennis was my older brother. He was almost twenty, making him one of the oldest kids here. Dennis lived one bunk below me, about two hundred feet off the ground. We lived in the wooded structures built about two years ago to keep out the gangs rampaging around the city. The structure consisted of wooden floors every twenty feet. There were many metal poles that ran from the ground to the nonexistent roof, and the mattresses were impaled on the poles, five feet from each other, so we could fit four mattresses per floor. At the bottom of the building was a large assortment of holes that led into the caves. We had to work as miners, and my shift was 4 to midnight. He worked about twelve hours in the mines, and I worked eight. We weren't supposed to do that, but he insisted, and I was grateful. There were no adults to do the work, since they had died that night two years ago.\n\nI remember that night perfectly. 2:36 AM. I Felt a tug on my arm. I was yanked out of bed. \"Deeenis, I-\" He clamped his hand over my mouth. \"Shut the **** up.\" I was immediately taken back. I can't recall the last time Dennis swore.\n\nI could hear gunshots outside. Screams of rage and pain. Dennis grabbed a base ball bat and grabbed my hand. If he had held it any harder it would have burst. He slowly led me downstairs, almost silently. \"Let's check this house out. Hey, isn't the house of the brat that called the cops on us?\" I could hear rallying shouts of \"Let's teach them a lesson!\" and \"Don't **** with us!\" We were in the kitchen room, behind a massive shelf that was filled china plates. We were next to a corner, and if I peeked my head out juuust a little bit, I could see a bunch of teenagers trying to break down our backdoor.\n\nI could see Dennis gripping the baseball bat, and his knuckles had turned white. I tried my best not to cry, but I could feel tears at my eyes. *Thump* *Thump* *KAPUMP-CRK* The back door flew open. This kid walked in. Matt. \n\nHis name instantly popped into my head. He was the kid who set up a party that Dennis had busted. I never liked him, he would flip me off when Dennis wasn't looking. He was annoying, but he had a shovel in his hands stained with dried \nblood. I never thought he would go this far. *Swing! Crack!* His body collapsed to the floor. I could hear Dennis swearing under his breath. He picked the baseball bat up off his limp body, kicked it with his leg so the rest of the crew couldn't see it. Another kid walked in. \"Matt, what the hell-\" Once the look of realization crossed his face, Dennis smashed him in the jaw, and he fell to the floor. There was no mystery this time. Everyone was watching.\n\nI yanked the shovel out of Matt's hands. Me and Dennis sat there. We squeezed pushed the shelf out a little bit, as we could hear four other teenagers slowly creep in, two on both sides. We slipped behind the shelf silently. all four of them crept in. \"Where are they?\" One of the kids asked. He had scruffy red hair, and was wearing a dress shirt with bullet holes in it. \"They're in the dresser!\" One of them shouted. The two of them with guns pointed them at the dresser. They were all gathered together, in one little square. The two unarmed ones yanked them open, and the other two fired several bullets that were embedded in the wood.\n\n\"Push.\" *Neeeeee... KERPASH* Priceless pieces of china were all over the floor. Dennis and I were hyperventilating. Blood covered the floor. I collapsed on my knees and started sobbing. I was only twelve. My parents were gone, and I had caused the death of four people.\n\n\"Jack, wake up!\"",
"The fires could be seen for miles. Not the fires you're thinking, it was the fires of the survivors; of the young men and women who survived the epidemic that wiped out more than half of the globe. Fire, the signal that people were still alive and that they weren't quitting on the rest of us just yet.\n\nI remember being one of the youngest of the group I was in; those fires leading our way to other survivors. I remember the Pandemic too, thirteen years old, forced to watch my parents and brother die slowly by a virus that just didn't, that couldn't, attack me. God, what I would give to see them one last time.\n\n\"Jason,\" that was Jackie, she was the oldest. Eighteen years old, the unofficial leader of our group. \"We've got a few miles to go before we reach Rome, but the fires are getting brighter.\"\n\nI was so young back then, so naive, so desperate for the world that we were leaving behind. \"More survivors?\"\n\n\"It has to be,\" I remember her smiling, intent on finding other survivors. \"We can make it there, I know we can.\" She looked over the horizon, staring at the fires, \" We can rebuild. I promise.\"\n\nShe did promise, and she lived up to that promise; arriving in Rome that night was the first step we all took into our lives. It was the first step into a new world, in a world of kids pretending to be adults. We had made it, but journey was just beginning.\n\n___\n\nIt's been years since that day, since I first arrived in Rome with twenty-three other young adults and teenagers. Almost five years to the day actually. In a few more days, Rome, the city that it is now, will be celebrating it's fifth anniversary. The people of the world will be celebrating five glorious years of survival.\n\nBut those first few weeks were tough on all of us. Kids and teenagers who watched their family die a slow and painful death never really recovered from the emotional turmoil of the Pandemic. Only those old enough to understand with death, and deal with it properly, could lead the survivors. Only those who could teach the rest of us could save what little remained of our world.\n\nJackie was one of those people. She helped found the new city, create it's laws, get the power back online and create jobs that would teach the rest of us to work. If you were old enough to walk, you were old enough to work.\n\nIt wasn't about age anymore, it wasn't about gender, it wasn't about race or religion; it was about survival. Our Elder's, the teenagers who were eighteen years old, knew that. They understood what was at risk even though the rest of us couldn't see it. They knew that survival was in all of our interests. Over the following months and years, we all started to see that.\n\nThey created schools, and jobs, and created a world that none of us could have done at the time. They cared for children and developed nurseries. They cultivated food and clean water. They made a society based on humanity's deepest desire, survival at all costs. The Elder's took charge, and in turn, we celebrate five years of survival under their leadership.\n\nNow, my time has come. I am to be inducted into the Elder's. Now I am to lead the people of Our Rome just as Jackie led me. Now, I am to help our people survive.\n___\n\nFive years ago, we flocked to Rome because a Pandemic wiped out the world we knew. Five years ago, we all lost everything in a fire that seemed to have no end. Five years ago, we watched our world burn.\n\nBut this year, we celebrate our survival. We celebrate five years of hard work, dedication, and leadership. Today, we look at the fires that led us here. We look at the Pandemic and do not scour at it, but fight it. We look at the Fires of Rome and remember that a few gave rise to the many. \n\nOur Rome is still small, but we continue to grow and cultivate a society that is worth fighting for. We continue to give the younglings hope that there is a future ahead of them. And we continue to fight the Pandemic with our every breath. \n\nWe let the Fires of Rome glow brightly in the sky, both in the light and the dark, so that everyone out there knows. We are still here. And we are not quitting on the rest of you just yet.\n\n______\n\n*I had fun with this, and this story was pretty rushed, but I hope to go back and expand on it soon. Plus, you can always check out /r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs for more!*"
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[WP] As Apollo 11 approaches the moon, it becomes increasingly apparent that Neil Armstrong is a werewolf
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"\"How's that suit treating you, Armstrong?\"\n\n\"Hotter than Kennedy's 45th.\"\n\n\"Well, not too far to go now. Hang in there.\"\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\nA raw bleed of starlight washes through the ship. Neil shudders. \n\n\n\"You sure you're hot? Looks cold from here.\"\n\n\"Fine. How about some music, Buzz?\"\n\n\n\"Sure.\" \n\nThe radio clicks on to static. Buzz switches it off.\n\n\"Moon's coming into view.\"\n\nArmstrong is silent. Still shivering.\n\n\n\"Neil?\"\n\nMore starlight. Hard starlight. The glare seems to pull at Armstrong's face, lengthening his teeth. Pooling in the hollows of his throat. The shadows sharpen. \n\n\"Hey Collins, can you look over here a second?\"\n\n\"Sorry, Buzz. Final stretch. Gotta focus.\"\n\n\"Of course. Sorry.\"\n\n\"Just fine, Buzz.\"\n\n\n\nBuzz shifts in his seat, trying to get a better look at Neil. The astronaut's breathing grows ragged in the quiet. \n\n\"Neil? You going to make it, buddy? We're almost there.\"\n\n\"The moon.\"\n\n\"Yeah, buddy, the moon. It's the home stretch. We're gonna make it. You'll be a hero.\"\n\n\n\nAnother shaft of starlight sears through the ship, bleaching everything bone white. It lasts for a minute. Feels like an eon. Leaves Neil on the floor. His suit strains whitely over new, thick haunches. \n\n\"Neil ... Jesus! What--\"\n\n\nThat's where the feed cuts out, says NASA. They won't say much more.\n\nThere are no further moon missions.",
"Buzz laid his hand gently on Neil's shoulder; he could feel the heat rising from his friend through the thin cotton suit that clung to Neil, soaked through with sweat. At first he had been concerned, but as it got worse Buzz was growing seriously alarmed; something was seriously wrong. \"Neil, they're asking again for you to reattach your sensors.\" \n\nNeil had been hunched over, but straightened with effort and spun in the air to face Buzz. \"Don't worry Buzz, I'm fine, just tell Houston there's been a small accident and they're too damaged to pick up readings; they have nothing to worry about.\" \n\nBuzz looked down at the cables that hung in midair, undamaged. \"Neil, you have to tell me, what's going on? You're burning up, your eyes seem almost yellow and you're acting... strangely.\" he reached out again to his friend. \"We're in this together Neil, if you're sick we'll still make this work, somehow.\" He pointed out the window to the moon, which grew larger by the hour. \"We'll make it there together, you just have to speak to me.\" \n\nNeil glanced out the window and the sight of the moon seemed to make him worse, he hunched over, clutching his hands to his stomach and looked away. \"I'm fine.\" He spat the words through gritted teeth and Buzz watched his friend sadly for a moment. \n\nHe pushed away and floated back through the tunnel that joined the *Eagle* to the *Columbia* and rejoined Michael. He shook his head sadly. \"We can't hold off any longer, I'm calling it.\" \n\nThey sat there for a few moments in silence before Michael spoke. \"Sure would have been nice to be the first.\" \n\nBuzz smiled. \"Always next time, the most important thing is getting us all home safely, he's in no condition.\"\n\n\"Still, just thirty to go and you'd have been in the boat on your way, it's a blow that Neil has...well, he's come down like this.\" They glanced back towards the *Eagle* where Neil had secreted himself for the last hour. \n\nBuzz picked up the radio and with a heavy heart clicked to transmit. \"Houston, this is Apollo, do you read me.\" \n\nThere was a few seconds delay before the answer crackled back. \"We read you Apollo, we were getting worried, over.\" \n\nA lump formed in Buzz's throat, but he knew it was the right decision. \"Houston, regret to inform that Commander Armstrong has become... unwell and will not be able to proceed with the mission. We have evaluated and it is a no go. Please provide calculations for a burn to swing us around and bring us home Houston, over.\" \n\nThe pause was longer this time, not surprisingly. \"Uh... please provide further details Apollo, we still have no readings from Commander Armstrong, doctors wish to confirm. Over.\" \n\nBuzz felt the frustration wash over him and his sense of cool abandoned him for a moment. \"Gene, he's boiling hot, looks messed up and I can't get near him. The missions fucked, repeat, fucked. Over.\" He dropped the mic and it floated in front of him until he batted it away. \n\nThe pause was longer still this time. \"Uhhh, Buzz, there's a lot of people listening down here, including our red friends, maybe keep it cool okay.\" Buzz rubbed his temples and Michael reached for the mic to take over, but the radio crackled to life again. \"Hey, we're reading you just started separation, what's going on?\" \n\nThe clang of the hatch closing made Buzz and Michael spin in unison and look back towards the passage, where they could see the hatch to the *Eagle* was now closed and the wheel spun to lock it shut. The radio still chattered, but they had both pushed off, reached the hatch at the same time and desperately tried to turn the wheel back, but it was firmly wedged. \n\nThrough the small windows they could just see moment in the lander as Neil moved around and a second later there was a judder as the docking bolts blew and suddenly there was clear space between the craft, *Eagle* had left *Columbia* behind. \n\nBuzz flew for the radio and began to yell, calling out angles and speeds, as the onboard computer tracked *Eagle*, but Michael just watched it float away. \"Uh, Buzz.\" \n\nBuzz ignored him until he called louder and then looked up, puzzled. \"Dammit, what Mike?\" \n\nMichael pointed, \"You need to... you need...\" He trailed off and Buzz floated back to the window and watched as the Eagle slowly turned, until the window came around again. There was silence as the two men watched the beast inside the lander as it silently howled, the ripped remains of the cotton suit still clinging to its frame. \n\nThe *Eagle* turned again and it was gone, the two men fell back away from the window. Behind them the radio screamed out commands and requests, but they both ignored it. A look was al they needed to let the other know that they had both seen the same thing, but they could never discuss it, never admit it. \n\nA moment later they felt, not heard, the sickening thud of the lander engine starting its burn and watched from the window as it spun away, towards the moon, far below. \n\nThey counted the burn, almost its entire fuel stock, it was going hell for leather and it was not planning on come back. Sixteen minutes later the *Eagle* reached the planet and the two men aboard the *Columbia* watched it impact on the surface, hard. \n\nAt last Buzz returned to the radio and clicked transmit. \"Uh, Houston, this is Apollo. I regret to inform you of a tragic accident, Commander Armstrong and the Eagle have been lost, we will commence a burn as soon as possible to circle the moon and return to earth. Please standby.\" \n\nHe let the mic go again and returned to the window where Michael still sat. The two watched until they could no longer see the impact site, before beginning the burn to go back home. \n"
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I am in the middle of writing a book with this very prompt in mind, and just wanted to see what others might come up with.
I call it the post-post-apocalypse.
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[WP] It is the after the end of the world, society has rebuilt. what does it look like?
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"It came so fast. \n\nSwarms of metal cut through a android just as quick as a flesh and blood. Everywhere spaceports were clogged with poor saps trying to get away. Then the fusion power plants all overloaded. Every major city was wiped away.\n\nWe coped. Rebuilt whatever we could, and burnt away anywhere infected. what was thought as our downfall was just the beginning of something great. The first warp drive was built. A result of our brightest minds being kicked out of there homes. The aliens we discovered were terrified of us. We had a couple skirmishes but it ended in something far greater then the sum of its parts. We, and all if humanities federation came together. A few genetic modifications of our collective and we could live together. We stared back to our little pearl and prepared to take it back.",
"I am an old man. Even by today's standards, I am, indeed, old. I watch the sun set above the Great Plain. Somewhere in the distance, I hear my grandchildren play and laugh. Their laugh is different you know? Kinder. Softer. Not the triumphant cackling of the Dervishes. Their skin is softer too, unburdened by the scars my old hide bears. \n\nI sit on the porch with a jar of wheatjuice in my hands. \"Porch\". I was the one to find that word in the old picture papers. Books? Birdie told me they're called books. Makes me wonder how is he these days. Birdie is very old too, after all.\n\nI look at the setting sun, as it throws its fire and light across the Plain. Reminds of the War, when the old world ended. We were so small back then.\n\nChildren laugh, but I can't see them anymore, the tall Eating Grass hides them. I remember when Great Plain was barren, nothing but sand and old banners. Smarties still argue what those were needed for. A disc of thin metal with arrows, a rectangle with letters on it. Who knows? Who cares. What matters is we have more than enough oldstone to build. Oldstone of old towers. We even built a \"church\". Mop said all cities must have a church, especially one as big as ours. Ten by ten by ten people. Our great city of Ford, with an ancient banner held high.\n\nChildren laugh. They will live longer than I. Better. They don't burn in the sun. Smarties say something in out food changed them. Wonder if that's why they are green and yellow.\n\nI am an old man. I sit on the porch, watching sun set above the blue fields of eating grass. The War made old world go away and so we built a new one, with no war. And for that, I am proud."
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[WP] By complete accident, you discover an acquaintance hiding godlike powers.
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"We were playing Halo in his room when everything started happening. We were drinking tons of coca-cola and stopping the game left and right for bathroom breaks.\n\nMom called him downstairs to get something, I followed since I had to go to the bathroom again, as expected...\n\nThat's when I saw it, I walked in on my friend washing his face and hands but...but...the water wasn't touching his face, he would cup his hands and splash his face but the water would just make a seal AROUND him. I closed the door loud enough for him to hear me shut it but quick enough for him to b unsure if it was someone else other than me,\n\nI told him I ahd to go and feared for the worst. It's no wonder he never goes swimming and only drinks coke. ",
"I looked up from my interface, meeting Connor's eyes.\n\n\"So you get it now?\" We had been discussing if it was possible for anyone to figure out how to travel faster than the speed of light.\n\n\"Well, I guess, but then again, this is all theoretical,\" I stated, sitting back in my chair while picking up my cup to take a sip.\n\nConnor rolled his eyes. \"Are you kidding me right now? This is ALL theoretical!\"\n\nHe was always kind of impatient that way, but he was a nice guy. Genius as well. In fact, there were times where what he was saying seemed to be on a much higher level of thought than he was capable of generating for a 21 year old guy. It was always pretty incredible to me how thoroughly he thought something out.\n\nI began to explain, \"Yes, of course, but you have to understand that theory off of theory is-\" I watched as Connor looked up in amazement and then quickly jumped up from his seat.\n\n\"DYLAN LOOK OUT!\" He jumped an absurd distance to place himself behind me. I spun around just as he did, and an explosion rocked the restaurant we were sitting outside of.\n\nAs I waved my hands back and forth to clear the smoke from my face, I saw the faint outline of Connor still standing.\n\nI watched the rest of the smoke leave and to my complete and utter astonishment:\n\nConnor was unharmed.\n\nA missile had just detonated, and not only had he contained the explosion, but he had tanked it. And he was completely okay.\n\n\"Are you alright?\" Connor said, a little out of breath.\n\nI said nothing. I was too stunned to even say anything.\n\n\"Now, I know what you're thinking, and yes, I did just survive a missile blast.\"\n\nI kept my mouth shut, my mind reeling from what I just saw.\n\n\"Look, I'll explain later, but for right now, you just need to get out of here. It's too dangerous.\"\n\nI slowly stood, making to leave, when I saw another one coming. Connor wasn't paying attention, so I knew it would hit before he could stop it.\n\nI did the only thing I could do.\n\nI leaped behind Connor and took the missile just as he did.\n\nThis time, it was Connor's turn to be amazed. The smoke cleared, and just as I had before him, he was stunned beyond belief to see me standing completely unharmed from the missile blast.\n\n\"So Connor,\" I said, brushing off my jacket, \"what was that about running again?\"",
"\"Dude, just fuckin do it!\"\n\nScott had never turned down a dare, but this time, he looked a bit nervous. The wind picked up slightly, brushing lightly against Susan's face as she watched him go ascend higher. Scott swayed and faltered, and gripped the railing of the fire escape all the tighter. He shouted down from his perch \"Couldn't I just jump from here? That trampoline doesn't look as sturdy from this high up!\"\n\n\"Don't be a pussy! I took the last dare of eating a ghost pepper, so now you have to pay up!\"\n\n\"Yeah, but then you got instant vengeance by kissing me! How am I supposed to get my revenge? Landing on you?\" Scott nervously stared down at the trampoline again. He cursed loudly, and climbed the last flight to the 3rd floor. \"You fuckin owe me, Susan.\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, If you survive this, we can talk about me *repaying* you later. Now come on, I want to get back inside!\"\n\nScott swallowed, and stepped off the edge. He plummeted instantly, starting in what seemed like slow motion, before picking up speed, and plunging down to the ground floor, shouting incoherently. The old trampoline did not hold and there was a sickening tearing sound as Scott's form broke through it like a knife through fabric, followed immediately by a crunch. Susan screamed.\n\nScott stood up, and dusted off, looking dazed, and a bit confused. He didn't even have a single cut, or oddly twisted joint; he simply stood there struggling to shake off the fabric remnants of the torn trampoline. He stared at Susan, and she stared back, not knowing at all what to do. There was no way to shake this off as merely good fortune, and also no way to explain why Scott hadn't at least broken his legs from that tumble. Scott was running over now, and she was still paralyzed, looking like a moron.\n\n\"HEY HEY HEY DON'T FREAK OUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!\"\n\n\"Freak out? Me? Nah, I'm just a little puzzled, you know, rather befuddled as to the logistics and scientific reasoning behind the rather complex question of HOW THE CHRIST-BALLS DID YOU SURVIVE THAT!??!\" Susan felt the tension slip out of her rigid back and shoulders, and visibly slumped, nearly falling down. She didn't have the energy to yell any more than that, and sat down on the pavement right where she was, and stared up at him expectantly. Her eyes trained on him, and she whispered \"Go on, then, I'll listen, and try not to interrupt.\" She then leaned back, until she was reclining in a more comfortable position.\n\n\"I'm invincible.\"\n\n\"You're full of shit, is what you are.\"\n\n\"I thought you said you wouldn't interrupt. Anyway, yes, I am invincible. As long as I can remember, Nothing has been able to hurt me. I don't get cut, I never get sick, I can't even get vaccines due to the needles being unable to get inside me! It feels just like regular skin, as you would know, but it never breaks, and never bruises!\"\n\n\"So you have a dragon hide?\"\n\n\"Now is not the time to nerd out on me.\"\n\n\"Sorry.\"\n\n'I don't know how, or why, but I can't let people know, otherwise, weird shit could happen, and the government could take me away or some shit. I've seen E.T. man, and they don't fuck around!\"\n\n\"Soooooo, you're saying that I can't hurt you, no matter how hard I try?\"\n\n\"Nope. Although, I don't know if there is a definite limit. I haven't tested it against things like, say, land mines.\"\n\n\"I'll remember that.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because maybe later I can use my whips without worrying about injuring you!\" A devious smile spread across Susan's face, and Scott groaned."
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Hope you enjoy!
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[WP] You wake up with no memories,floating in a glass tube, which is then cracked open by people claiming to be there to rescue you.
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"THUMP THUMP\n\nI hear a pounding. \nRhythmic and constant it pulls me out of sleep. \n\nTHUMP THUMP\n\nFirst my ears come back to reality, only the muffled sounds of that constant pounding are reaching me. I want to go back to sleep. Let me sleep!\n\nTHUMP THUMP THUMP\n\nSomething throws a switch in my body and my eyes flutter open to silhouettes on glass. They move in silence, except one which seems to sway in time with that relentless, ever present POUNDING. Can’t I sleep in peace?\n\nTHUMP\n\nSeems not.\n\nTHUMP\n\nI look around to take stock of my surroundings. I know names but I don’t know where they come from. Glass, liquid, tether, foot. The names seem true, as if they’ve always been there, with me in my sleep, I feel comforted by the familiarity the names bring with them. \n\nTHUMP\n\nI feel no comfort from the awful din though. Invading my sanctuary, what a horrible guest.\n\nTHUMP THUMP THUMP\n\nSanctuary. Is that the name of all of this? \n\nTHUMP\n\nNo, the name is close though. I close my still heavy eyelids in thought\n\nTHUMP\n\nFortress? \n\nTHUMP\n\nNo, temple?\n\nTHUMP\n\nHome.\n\n\n\nThe thumping has stopped. I open my eyes one last time out of curiosity. The silhouettes are still. Even without eyes I sense the figures are staring at me like I’m a phenomenon. My glass flickers and a message appears.\n\n\n“WELCOME BACK. YOU’RE AWAKE NOW. WE CAN RESCUE YOU. NOD YOUR HEAD IF YOU WANT TO LEAVE”\n\n\nRescue? This word seems wrong. My home isn’t something to be rescued from. \nThe shadows jitter, visibly anxious. Closing my eyes, I shake my head.\n\nAnd stay home.\n",
"The first thing was light. Blinding and white. Burning my eyes.\n\nNext were the voices, muffled through the glass and the fluid I was floating in. Saying words I recognized, but could not yet parse.\n\nThird came awareness. The light faded, or my eyes grew accustomed, and all at once I knew, these men and women were here to get me out of this tube, it was, after all, what they had been saying, shouting really, from the moment I first heard them.\n\nWhat never came, was memory. Context. For all intents and purposes, I was born right then and there, in that tube. I knew nothing from before. No name, no purpose.\n\nThe people who rescued me brought me to a hospital. I didn't know that was what it was at the time, I just knew that they were taking me somewhere to get help. The doctors poked and prodded, but in the end found nothing wrong, nothing that would explain my lack of memory, my strange situation. They ran tests upon tests, among them a DNA test to determine, if my DNA or that of my parents was in 'the system', who I, or they, might be.\n\nThey found nothing. I was a blank slate, and so they came to call me Rasa. Short for Tabula Rasa. It was a name that I embraced, because I had none and it was as good as any other. They took me to labs, gyms, tested my limits, tested every little thing. In the end, they never found my limits, the equipment on hand was insufficient.\n\nA group from the big city arrived, all in lab coats and armed with sci-fi weapons, though they kept those concealed. Not from me, though. I could see them, I could see everything the interlopers carried. They took me to their 'special facility', where they said they had equipment better suited to 'someone like me'.\n\nThat was a year ago. We've still only begun to touch the lower limits of my capabilities. They said there was a man here once who effectively bench-pressed the Earth's mass for five days. I packed it in after four, but they were still impressed.\n\nThe scientists here have continued to call me Rasa, as it was the name they were given by my previous caretakers. That's fine with me, it fits. They talk about the man I mentioned before, and they say that one day I might be his equal.\n\nI think I'm destined to become his rival. No... his nemesis.",
"I’m floating weightlessly. It’s a peaceful feeling, the kind you think you might experience as you’re taken to the afterlife. There’s no before or after to my existence, just the now. Only the present is relevant. \n\nI hear a *tap, tap, tap,* the sound muddled and faraway. Go away, I think. I just want to exist, to stay here forever. The sound does not respect my wishes. It grows louder, more persistent until the tapping has become deafening. I feel like the world around me is beginning to fall apart beneath the sudden cacophony. I no longer feel weightless, but heavy—burdened. Tranquility is all but gone, replaced with despair and confusion. \n\nMy eyes open, and I’m awake.\n\nI gasp for breath, tearing devices that are embedded into my skin off. There’s some kind of tube in my mouth and I grab at the source, drawing it out. This feels horrible. I don’t understand what’s happening. I want to go back to being weightless, to feeling peaceful. I look around, my eyes assaulted by a light far too bright for them to handle. I avert my gaze, a sharp pain thundering in my temples. I feel like I might get sick all over again. I reach out in front of me, trying to clutch onto something to gain my bearings, and I’m shocked to feel pain. I don’t think I’ve ever felt pain before. I don’t like this. My hand is bleeding red everywhere, having gotten cut on something jagged.\n\n“Stop! You’re going to hurt yourself,” a voice says, panicked. “Michael, make her stop!” \n\nStrong hands seize hold of my weak body, lifting me up to pull me carefully out of the tube I’m in. By now my eyes have feebly adjusted to the light, and I’m able to look around. There are three men here, all of them unfamiliar to me. Each of them are wearing lab coats of pristine white, and are watching me with such intensity that I feel uncomfortable. \n\nI look to the man who is holding me. He’s smiling at me, but for some reason I see a different image in my head. I see a man in a biohazard suit, his face obscured behind the protective glass of his helmet. This makes me feel frightened.\n\n“Put me down,” I say. My voice is hoarse, weak. I am not well. I expected him to not heed my command, but he surprises me by setting me down gently on the ground. I almost collapse right away. I grasp onto his arm, using it to sturdy myself. “Where am I?” I ask. The other two have remained silent so far.\n\n“I don’t know,” Michael says. “This is some kind of… underground labyrinth. We found you here and broke the glass in hopes of saving you.” He’s watching me with a fondness that makes me feel shy.\n\nI don’t like this man. I don’t know why, but I don’t. There’s something about him that makes me feel ill at ease. “Oh,” I say lamely, knowing not what else to say. I look around this “underground labyrinth,” taking in my surroundings. I see other tubes much like the one I had just been liberated from, and they too had people inside of them. With great effort I manage to stumble my way over to one of these tubes, and I gaze up at it. It’s a girl inside, young and beautiful; her long, golden hair flows in wild cataracts around her, weightless and blissful like I had been moments before. “Are you going to save her?” I ask. My hand is still bleeding, and I clutch it my chest. It’s only now that I realize I’m naked. I look down at my starkness, but I feel indifference toward it. It seems the three men present felt indifferent to my lack of clothing, too.\n\nMichael takes a step toward me. I tense at this movement, and he comes to a stop, not wanting to upset me. “Why? Do you know her?”\n\nI reach out with my good hand to touch the glass of the tube. “I don’t know her,” I say quietly, “but there is something about her…” My balance is lost, my weakness getting the best of me. I fall to my knees. Why am I so weak?\n\n“It didn’t work,” one of the men in a lab coat says. “There’s still residual consciousness stored in her memory.”\n\nI don’t understand what he’s saying. I struggle to my feet, just as snippets of horrifying images surface in my mind. Of being strapped down to a chair in a lab, helpless and vulnerable; of unfathomable pain that knew no end, that left not a single nerve in my body untouched; and of the fear, the kind of fear that never leaves you, the kind that always lurks in the back of your head, forever immortalized. I nearly collapse again, this time from shock.\n\nMichael produces a syringe, the tube filled with a liquid that is a bright, toxic yellow. “It’s going to be OK,” he says to me, his words slow and over pronounced. He speaks to me like you would to a wounded, cornered animal.\n\n“Stay away from me,” I say. I feel panic now. I crawl across the floor, heading back to the tube I had just been taken out from. I need a weapon. I need something! I grope along the ground and clutch one of the shards in my hand, rivulets of scarlet pulsing out from the flesh the jagged glass is shearing.\n\n“We’re doing this to help you,” the tall man says as he advances on me. “Please don’t hurt yourself, 41.”\n\n“Hurry, Michael. We need to get her back into the tube and fast!” one of the other men says. “She’s hurting herself! We can’t let 41 do any more damage to her body.” \n\n“Stay away from me,” I whisper again. I hold the shard of glass up, the blood dripping down my arm. Then he lunges at me.\n\nThe syringe’s needle embeds itself into my neck before I’m able to even think of evading, but I am able to retaliate. I stick the shard of glass into the arm that held the needle, a sickening thud sounding as it strikes against bone. An unintelligible scream of curses sounds as I drag the shard down the remainder of his arm, just as something hot and sticky gushes out from the large, gaping flesh wound I dealt to him. My world is a surreal haze, influenced by whatever it was he had just injected me with. My grip falters on the shard embedded in Michael’s arm, and I find myself slipping away from reality. \n\n“Put her back on the table,” I hear someone say. “We can make no more mistakes! This is getting riskier each time. Michael, go have your wound tended to.”\n\nI’m horrified by my helplessness, of my inability to do *anything*. One of the men who is not Michael slips his arms underneath me, lifting me up. My gaze is slipping in and out of focus as I struggle against the drugs coursing through my system. Disoriented, I look up to the man who carries me, and he gazes down at me. He wears an expression of disapproval, the kind a father might use when his daughter misbehaves. “We were so certain we had gotten it right this time, 41,” the man says, just total darkness takes me.\n\n**Note:** Didn't proof read this, so might be awful!",
"I've always felt nothing.\n\nEver since I could remember, I've always felt nothing.\n\nOne day, that changed.\n\nI could hear movements. Of course, I know what hearing is. The doctors like to talk to me. Of course, I also know what English is.\n\nBut one day, I heard movements. They were footsteps, but not normal footsteps. There were a lot of these, and they were frantic and out of order.\n\n\"He's in here!\"\n\nVoices. Is the doctor here to feed me? And yes, I know what hunger is. The doctor told me what hunger is.\n\n\"What did they do to you...\"\n\nA different voice. This one is distressed. I want to talk back, but I can't talk. The doctor tells me I need a tongue to talk.\n\n\"What are you waiting for? Get him out!\"\n\nA few noises on the tube. I know what a tube is. The doctor told me that I live in a tube. I wonder what their tubes are like.\n\n\"Three, two, one...\"\n\nA crack. I know what cracks are. The doctor broke something once and the other doctor yelled at him. I know what break is too. The doctor told me I was broken.\n\n\"Do it again!\"\n\nAh, the distressed voice.\n\n\"Three, two, one...\"\n\nAnother crack. Ooh, a new sound. Is this what happens when a crack becomes a break?\n\n\"We're almost there! Make another hole and break the glass!\"\n\nWhat is this feeling. I can feel. It's like I'm moving!\n\n\"Three, two, one...\"\n\nCrack. Break. I'm moving again. What joy!\n\n\"Shit, the glass! Someone hold him, we need to make a bigger opening!\"\n\n\"I got it!\"\n\nA new voice. Or wait, was the new voice here all along?\n\nOh, a feeling. It's warm, like when the doctor warms my tube. Only part of me is warm though.\n\nAnother break!\n\nI feel... empty in my tube.\n\n\"Hey! Are you alive?\"\n\n\"Check his eyes if he's conscious.\"\n\nWarm feelings all over me. I feel warm feelings everywhere.\n\nI feel warm feelings on my upper parts.\n\n\"Sis, I don't think...\"\n\nOh, breathing. Breathing in my chest parts. I know what a chest is. The doctor told me what a chest is.\n\nIt's so warm. I like my new tube full of warm.\n\n\"His eyes. Is he alive?\"\n\nWarm on my upper part again. Oh, a head. That's what it's called. The doctor told me that too. My upper part is a head!\n\n\"Sis, that's the thing. They're not there.\"\n\nMore warmness on my head. I feel moving. I love moving!\n\n\"Hey! Do you remember who I am?\"\n\nMore warmth. Oh, a new feeling. It makes me feel giddy.\n\n\"You two, give it up. We can't save this one.\"\n\nThe other voice. This one is farther away. I know what farther is. The doctors didn't have to tell me that one!\n\n\"Of course we can. We can fix him! We'll give him new arms, new legs and even new e-\"\n\n\"That's not the point. The damage isn't something that we can repair.\"\n\n\"What the hell are you talking about?!\"\n\nA fight! A fight! The doctors have these sometimes! It's when they talk very loud at each other!\n\n\"It's his brain.\"\n\n\"His... brain?\"\n\nIt's quiet again. I want a fight! I want a fight!\n\n\"Okay, I know what I need to do.\"\n\nFootsteps. They're coming closer.\n\n\"Hey, thank you for what you did for me.\"\n\nWarmth. Warmth on my face. I like this warmth.\n\n\"I'll make it up to you. I'll rescue you.\"\n\nRescue. That's a word I don't know about. I like new words. The doctor always gives me new words.\n\n\"Give me the gun.\"\n\nAnother new word!\n\n\"Sis, are you sure?\"\n\n\"It's my fault this happened to him.\"\n\nFootsteps. One set footsteps going to the other one.\n\nA ring. The sounds of metal. I know what metal is. The doctor told me metal. It goes ping and ding.\n\nFootsteps. They're getting closer.\n\nA cold feeling on my upper. No, a cold feeling on my head. I don't like cold feelings.\n\n\"I'll save you from this pain.\"\n\nA loud noise!\n\nA new feeling. This feeling. Feeling. Feeling. Feeling.\n\nWhat is this feeling.\n\nIt's hot. It's hot. It's hot. It's hot. It's hot. It's hot. It's hot.\n\nI don't like hot."
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[WP] "I wrote you a poem," he threatened.
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"In the lands of Riječi Snage, words have power. You can do more with a simple \"yes\" or \"no\" then you could ever do with a gun or knife. In the lands of Riječi Snage, all manner of writers are revered, for fear of what they would do. Among these writers is the greatest, and perhaps most powerful poet, Leonardo Shillmoor. He has sentenced many a men and women to death, or worse, to life. He has made kingdoms rise and fall, oceans rise and subside, stars shine and dim. He is a force of nature, and not to be challenged. Or at least, he was. Until he met the beautiful Grenda. \n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nGrenda was the daughter of a tramp and a milkman, and thus, a bastard. When she was born, she was dropped at the steps of the local monastery, with a note attached. It read, \"Take care of her. Do not let harm befall her.\" The priests, unable to ignore the words etched on the page, took Grenda in. She was raised as a child of God from that point on. When Grenda turned 18, the monastery gave her a choice. The head priest, a lovely man named Michael Malksley, wrote two different words on two different pieces of paper. One of these words was \"freedom\". The other, \"solitude\". He put one piece of paper in each hand, closed his hands into fists and held them out to Grenda. He told her only to choose wisely. Recognizing the gimmick as one of Father Malksley's favorite, she knew the better choice was in the right hand. She pointed to the right, and Father Malksley opened his fist, showing the paper to Grenda. She took it from his hand and opened it. Father Malksley read it out loud, his voice echoing in the chamber halls. *Freedom*. All her life, Grenda had dreamt of freedom, of seeing the world beyond the monastery. And now she could. She turned back to Father Malksley, who looked downtrodden. She cradled his head in her hands, and she shook her head. This was the right thing. This was her chance. She retreated to her room and packed her things.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nThe next morning, the entire monastery gathered to pay their good-nights to Grenda (In the town of Riječi Snage, it is considered a curse to say good-bye, as you are wishing to never see that person again. Townsfolk choose to use good-night, in the hopes that they will see you again, or at the very least, you will have a good night). With all her affairs in order, Grenda set off for the main part of Riječi Snage, where she knew adventure waited for her. If only she knew.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nWhen Grenda walked into the main square of Riječi Snage, she was awestruck. She had known beauty at the monastery, but this... this was not just beautiful. This was mythical. The town looked like a storybook, with numerous buildings jutting out at odd angles or covered in bright colors. To the townsfolk, the sight was a monstrosity. But to Grenda, it was a symbol. A symbol of her new life. The market itself was packed with vendors and people alike. Each vendor had something to offer, from writing supplies, to megaphones, to fresh fruit. Grenda walked over to the fresh fruit stall.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"Hello, sir! How are you on this glorious day?\"\n\n**\"I find myself to be well, and yourself?\"**\n\n\"Oh, I too find myself well, sir! What beautiful fruit you have! Do you grow it yourself?\"\n\n**\"Oh yes, every piece is grown by me in my backyard.\"**\n\n\"Your land must be fertile, for these fruits are plump and shiny, and look delectable!\"\n\n**\"Oh yes ma'am, very fertile indeed. I make sure to talk to my crops every day, to encourage them. Tell me, would you like a piece?\"**\n\n\"Oh, very much sir. But alas, I have no money.\" At this moment, the poet Shillmoor stepped forward.\n\n*\"Fret not, madam. Pick your fruit, and I shall pick mine, I shall pay, and together, we shall dine.\"* Grenda could not help but giggle, for she had never heard anyone talk in rhyme before. What a silly thing it was. *\"Ah, my poetry amuses the lass. Good, I'm sure we will get along quite well then.\"* The poet Shillmoor had not understood why Grenda had laughed, and Grenda did not understand who this man was. But the fruit man knew why, or at the very least could guess quite well, for he began to whisper conspiratorially to the poet Shillmoor. When the poet Shillmoor leaned back from the furtive conversation, he looked alarmed. *\"Alas, madam,\"* he started, turning to Grenda. \"but it would appear you do not know who I am. I am the great poet Shillmoor, the only writer in Riječi Snage truly worth a damn. And you are?\"\n\n\"I am Grenda, a child of God.\"\n\n*\"A child of God? Ah, I see now. Your mother was a whore, and your father took a bow. So who raised you, child?\"* Grenda was taken aback at this affront to both her mother and father, for though she never knew them, she knew they would not abandon her like this poet said.\n\n\"I was raised by the monastery, and I assure you that my mother was no whore and my father no runner.\"\n\n*\"Ah yes, of course. The monastery. And tell me, was this stay voluntary?\"*\n\n\"No sir, it wasn't.\"\n\n\"Well then it falls into place then. Your mother was indeed a whore, and a cheap one at that. And your father decided you weren't worth more than a tip of the hat.\" Grenda's blood was boiling. Who was this man to speak of her parents like that. Her parents were good people, Father Malksley said so himself. So Grenda did the only thing she could think of: she punched the poet Shillmoor in the face. A weak punch, painful for both parties, but weak nonetheless. \"Why you little... where do you get off?\"\n\n\"My mother was no whore! And my father died! I know because Father Malksley told me! He said it himself! You deserved every bit of that, you... you... worm!\" By now, a crowd had gathered, their purchases and prior engagements forgotten. All eyes were on the two quarreling.\n\n*\"You know what Glenda? I've decided I don't like you.\"*\n\n\"As if that matters to me! And it's Grenda!\" Grenda was still shouting, but the poet Shillmoor wasn't listening, or more likely, didn't care. He had out a notebook and a pencil, and was writing as fast as he could. The crowd, not wishing to seek therapy or washing machines after the inevitable punishment was handed out, began to disperse. They had seen the poet Shillmoor's work one too many times. They knew how this would end. Grenda did not. So she stood and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Finally, several long moments later, the poet Shillmoor stood. He dusted off his trousers and tucked away his pencil. Looking away, he ripped out the notebook page he had written on, folded it up, and handed it to Grenda. *\"Here, I wrote you a poem.\"* he threatened. \n\nGrenda unfolded it and scanned the page. Meanwhile, the poet Shillmoor had covered his ears with his hands and screwed his eyes shut. He was clearly expecting a large bang, or at the very least a loud pop, so imagine his surprise when he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Grenda. \"I can't read this.\"\n\n*\"What do you mean? You are a child of god, are you not keen?\"*\n\n\"Of course I'm keen. Perhaps it is you who is not keen, for there are no markings on that page.\"\n\n*\"What do you mean there are no markings, you can clearly see them... oh.\"* With that, the great poet Leonardo Shillmoor of Riječi Snage was reduced to a pile of confetti, and the child of God Grenda skipped away, whistling an [abstract tune](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0jTHNBKjMBU) as she made her way through the town.",
"\"I wrote you a poem,\" he threatened.\nWith eyes staring into my soul and sharp teeth showing he continues to speak.\n\n\" The horrid evil world will tear you up,\n \nBe mine and I will show you dark,\n\nI'll protect you when volcanos erupt,\n\nWe can kill people at a park.\n\n----\n\nSatanic rituals are not my thing,\n\nTreasuring you and making you first,\n\nBe it giving you diamonds or bling,\n\nI'll be the water to quench your thirst\n\n---\n\nAll you have to do is to grab an apple,\n\nOne from the special tree.\n\nHuman rebellion in an open chapel,\n\nWitness my specialty.\"\n\nHe said giving a hiss as he suddenly dissapeared."
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An idea that has raddled around in my head for some time: The less then glamorous side of being a hero with a destiny and the idea that not all destinies are created equal.
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[WP] In many a tale, the hero have a grand, heroic destiny. These are the stories of the heroes who do not.
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"Not so much a story of a hero without a heroic destiny, but, well, it evolved from the prompt to something else entirely. Enjoy.\n\n\n\n\nWhat makes a hero? How do you qualify to become a hero? I've wondered this for a while. I used to think a hero was a mighty hero who slew dragons and saved princesses. Then I grew up and began to think that a hero led his people away from the chaotic mess that is the world.\n\nBut now, now I see the truth. You see, I am a hero. No matter how much anyone tells me different, I am adamant in that knowledge. Because a hero doesn't have to be bold and brave. A hero is an entity focused on the advancement of society, one brick at a time. Civilisation can't advance without the little things.\n\nPeople are right in thinking that heroes work undercover, that their identities are hidden. But that's because people don't look for a hero's identity. They search endlessly for the identity of the tosser on the television, destroying city blocks in pursuit of a minor criminal. I wear my identity proudly on my chest. At a glance, people can know my name, but rarely do they see me for the hero I really am.\n\nI think this every day, consoling myself in the truth. It's become a rote process for me. I ponder the same points every day as I go about my duty, as I commit my daily acts of heroism. And every day, I reach this exact point in my train of thought as I open the door to my secret lair, revealing the tools of my heroic trade.\n\nI walk over to the wall rack, lifting out the mop of valour, then I slide my feet into the gumboots sat in the corner. I adjust the ID lanyard around my neck, remembering that the mop bucket is already where I need it to be, and carry my weapon out to the fight. People won't remember me, they won't laud my name in grand city processions, but I'm alright with that. It's better that the public don't know of my duty.\n\nAfter walking the spotless corridors, I eventually reach my destination for today: a steel door guarded by a PIN code. Punching the numbers as quickly as I could read from the slip of paper I'd been given, I heft the mop as the door opens, stepping into the space inside. It's a small chamber, I know, but it's only a staging point for what's ahead. I grab the round helmet from the hook on the wall and give my lanyard a pull, involuntarily holding my breath as it forms an airtight seal with the helmet, connecting it to the rest of the tough jumpsuit I wear. I hit the button on my mop, causing the end of the mop to stiffen and light up to electric whiteness. Finally, I lift the riot shield and strap it to my left arm.\n\nI hit the airlock button and step out of the city's dome and into the desert beyond, pressing the comms on my lanyard. \"Garry, Barry, come in, over.\"\n\n\"Garry here. ATV'll be here in five. You ready, boss?\"\n\n'Barry in. Let's go smoke some bugs, chief.\"\n\nI'm Larry the janitor. It's only a small civil duty I do. Nothing heroic, nothing outstanding. i only do what's expected of me in this barmy world. Perhaps if these damn man-sized termites hadn't invaded, I'd be doing something truly glorious. Scrubbing toilets, or mopping floors. I can only dream of such luxury. But still, it's all about what you're good at, and us janitors wipe the floor with these termites.",
"Walking down the street, no one really knows who I am. They see me as just another guy: medium height, brown hair, glasses, a shirt and tie, and a nice smile on. Little do they know I've saved their lives more time than one. \n\nEver since I was little, I could get glimpses of the future just by looking at people. Call it a blessing or a curse, but I can see what is going to happen to a person before it happens. So when I saw a man last year with a gun in his pocket at the gas station, I was able to talk to him before he made a terrible decision. When I saw a lady texting and driving during rush hour, I was able to honk before she hit the guard rail. \n\nHowever, there are some things I can't do. I couldn't save the guy who wouldn't listen when I told him not to get into the car with his drunk friend. And the man who I saw fall over and have a heart attack told me I was full of shit. I guess some people just need to believe a little more. \n\nIt's weird being above everyone with no restrictions or boundaries. No \"save the day\" prophecy or any of that bullshit. I wouldn't even call myself a hero. Wouldn't you do the same? You see someone ruin their life, so wouldn't you want to make them better? I guess I've came to see myself as just another normal guy, with a keen ability to do the little things every once and a while. It's all nonchalant and I don't require a thank you, but it feels good to me. I'm not a hero, just a guy who likes thinking he's making a difference. \n\nNow, if you could, can you hold my coffee? The man over there is contemplating jumping off the ledge of a building in 15 minutes because his wife just left him. Hopefully my quick little small talk might make him rethink. I can't save every life, but I would if I could. And his, as well as everyone's, is a life worth saving. "
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[WP]Out of all the millions of lives i've lived, I'll miss this one the most
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"A cool breeze curled into the room through an open window, waking the man sleeping within. He set aside the well worn book, propped open on his chest, and glanced at a clock on the mantel. *What time is it now? Shouldn't she be back already?* Aching bones stressed against tired joints, and he rolled his wheelchair towards the front door. Lights flashed through the front windows, gravel crunching as a car pulled up to the house. As someone outside fumbled with the locks, the man's heart began pounding in his chest. The door swung open, and he met eyes with the elderly woman standing there.\n\n*Wife. My beloved. Still as beautiful at 74 as she was at 17.* His thoughts wandered to when they first met, that hot August day so many years ago. *The bell jingled as she walked through the shop door, letting the noise from the busy street interrupt his reading. He glanced up and his breath caught as their eyes met, just for a moment, before she continued scanning the packed cafe for an open table. He had seen her before, walking in and out of the library, always smiling, always radiant. Now's your chance, don't mess this up. \"Scuse me, miss? You can have my table if you like, I was just leaving.\" Leaving? Stupid, stupid! You're supposed to talk to her, not run from her! Pop was right, you spend too much time with your nose in the pages and not enough time with other people! His reverie was interrupted by an enthusiastic voice asking \"Oh, is that The Hobbit! I love that book! What part are you at?\" She helped herself to the opposite seat, beaming at him over the top of her glasses.*\n\n57 years later and he still couldn't believe how much his life had changed because of that moment. Nervous, awkward dates on the town. Laughter over the telephone late into the night. A trembling proposal in the park. A wedding, children, grandchildren. And through it all, were the books. She had an appetite for reading that was matched only by his, and together they devoured books of every genre and author until the librarians in four neighboring counties knew them by name.\n\nAnd now she stood in the doorway, a sad smile on her wrinkled face punctuated by the shimmer of tears at the corner of her eyes. He didn't need to ask what the doctor had said; the answer was written on her face. \"How long?\" he asked, fearing the answer. The pause before she replied felt like eternity. \"Two, maybe three weeks. It's spread too far by now, nothing more they can do.\" Silence. *What now? Is this how it ends? After everything we've been through, only to lose it all when I need it most?* Incoherent sentences began pouring out of his mouth. \"We'll sell the house, move closer to the city. You'll be able to find someone who can fix this, I know it! I'll start teaching again, the university said I was always wel-\" She stopped him with a touch on the arm, shocking him out of his monologue. \"We're not selling anything, we're not moving anywhere, and you're certainly not going back to teach now. That's now how this works.\" Tear stained eyes met for the first time since her arrival, and she took his hands. Smiling warmly, she started again. \"We've had a good long run, you and I. Shared adventures other couples could only dream of. Explored sunken ruins with Captain Nemo. Plotted dire revenge with Edmond Dantes. And I'll never forget the time we helped a band of dwarves recover their ancestral home. Those were good lives we've lived, my love, and they will be missed.\"\n\nShe bent down and brushed his brow with a kiss. \"But out of all the millions of lives I've lived, I'll miss this one the most.\"\n\n*\"A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies.\" - George R. R. Martin*",
"When I begin to remember, it becomes clear why I forget. \n \nMemories are disorienting when you are close to falling into the next consciousness. In the between times, I am all at once. Who am I this time? This is always the question I ask as I fall. Now-- \n \nNow I am scaled, silver. The water is cold and I am swimming against it, pushing, not needing to know why-- \nThe entire world is river water. I pull myself into the air jumping a little further, a little further, until I am snapped into the jaws of something unthinkable. \n \nNow I am wooden, as great and empty as canyons. I stretch down into the earth. I open my hands up and drink sunlight, and then I rain seeds beneath me. I live for such a long time, and then there is the dull thud of something sharp into my ribs, and I am falling back into the between-- \n \nAn insect. An insect. Another insect. Each time, it's so short, the length of an inhale and exhale, struggling, all my legs writhing as fast as they go, running, always running. Often, I am eaten. There is never a reason why. \n",
"I pointed at the tea cup and it levitated off the table and into my hands.\n\n\"Oh, that's a new one,\" I thought. \n\nYou see, I have been alive longer than there have been people. I have won jousting tournaments, preserved my honor through seppuku, given birth to emperors and fathered princes, howled at the moon as a wolf, been elected President twice (only shot once), clanked flint against stone to make fire as I chased a mammoth....but despite the strangeness of my nomad soul, I've never been able to do this. I moved my hand and the tea cup returned to the table. I tried again to move it and the entire table lifted.\n\n\"Oh, oh wow.\" The table collapsed onto the ground as soon as my concentration even faltered a little bit. My parents, such sweet people, ran into the room.\n\n\"Audrey, what's that noise?\" my father said. He was wearing a fine cornflower blue shirt from a small shop on Saville Row, he had been promoted at his architecture firm after submitting blueprints that his boss proclaimed, \"seemed to come from someone with two decades more experience than you.\" My father never noticed the edits I made during the night. \n\nI shrugged my shoulders. This would have to stay a secret until I could figure out what to do next.\n\n* * *\n\nTwo weeks later, though, the secret was broken. There was a knock at the front door and a fellow in long robes and a strange hat was waiting for my family. \n\n\"Your daughter,\" the man said, \"is a witch.\"\n\nMy mother, a petite woman who often swore at me in Haitian creole, grabbed at my father. \n\n\"She's a what?\" \n\"Little girl, Aubrey wassit?, would you please show your parents what you can do?\"\n\n\"Audrey,\" I said and I pointed at the teacup. Nothing happened. I focused on it until my brain hurt, but it refused to even quiver. Rage filled my veins, I have ridden with the Mongol hordes, I have hunted whales in the freezing waves of Alaska, and now this teacup will not fly for me? \n\n\"Ah, it's okay. If you could, try saying this. **Wingardium Leviosa**,\" his hands moved swiftly through the air like a seamstress at her craft. The cup moved instantly. My parents gasped. Meanwhile, my head was spinning with the words he said, it was a mash up of modern English and Latin. Was Latin truly a sacred script? How many lives ago had I been a Roman, was there anything I remembered? \n\nI focused on the teacup and spoke, \"**Bhrṇgō**\"\n\nIt shattered into a hundred violent pieces. Now it was the robed man's turn to gasp.\n\n\"Oh shit,\" he said.\n\nI realized I had made two mistakes. First, I had gone too far back. That was Kurgan, older than Latin...but the words still worked - interesting, I'll have to remember that. Second, that was the word for breaking, not flying. Based on his reaction, I think I had scared him. \n\nThe man quickly produced a piece of parchment paper and set it down on the table. He bowed to both of my parents, shook my hand, and exited, disappearing in a whooshing clear puff soon after he exited the door. The note he left was mostly for my parents, by reading it they lost the ability to ever speak to others about what I could do. At the bottom of it was an invitation for me to head to London, to wait at some impossible train platform. This was certainly going to be an interesting life. Of the millions that I've lived, it would be no stretch to assume that I was going to miss this one the most."
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[WP] While reaching into your pocket for your headphones, you surprisingly pull out two of the elves who have been tangling them all these years.
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"I decided I was tired of listening to the idle chit-chat on the bus, and reached into my pocket to retrieve my headphones and iPod. Instead of my headphones, I felt a small, round object that I didn't recognize by touch. I yanked it out, and much to my surprise, there were two of them, elves or faeries I guess, and they were fighting with each other at the moment. \n Picking one up by his little shirt I held him in the palm of my right hand and the other in the palm of my left. My stop was coming up, so being very careful, I yanked the cord and moved my hand quickly away before the small being in my hand could get a hand on it.\n The bus pulled over and I quickly exited, mumbling thanks. Then I set down my bag, and looked sternly at the elves, or whatever they were. \"You've been tangling my headphones, haven't you? I know you understand me.\"\n Right hand elf stuck his tongue out at Left, who made a rather vulgar gesture in return.\n \"ENOUGH! Answer my damn question or I swear I'll put you in my little sisters doll house!\"\n\nLeft shook his head. \"Oh yes you will,\" I said, bringing him up to eye level.\n\n\"Look ma'am,\" said Right, \"he's a bit daft and shy too. So yeah, we've been tangling your headphones. It's what we do. Like the wheels on a bus, they go round, well we tangle things. We've no other purpose than that.\"\n\n\"IF you want things to tangle, I'll put you in my collectors doll house with some yarn and you boys can go to town. But honestly, I'm tired of untangling my headphones all the time. \n\nLeft nodded enthusiastically, and that's why I have a myriad of tangled yarn at my house. I tell people the cat does it, but what they don't know won't hurt them. And the elves, or whatever they are, are quite happy with their new lodgings!",
"I reached into my pocket, ready to pull out my earbuds and get lost in the works of Pink Floyd. To my great surprise, they came out untangled. And, hanging onto the aux end, two goblins glaring at me. \n\nIf I had to describe them, I'd have said they were what I'd expect leprechauns to look like. Knickerbockers, purple bowler hats, and beady little eyes. No more than an inch tall. That didn't stop them from hoisting themselves up the cord at light speed. \n\n\"Listen here.\" The first cried in a fast, high-pitched tone. \"You can't use those yet. We haven't tangled them!\"\n\nI was stunned. It wasn't everyday that the cast of Arthur and the Minimoys decided to take refuge in your pocket. \n\n\"Uhh.. what?\"\n\nThe second one had scurried up to my thumb, and bit down. For such a tiny being, it had some jaw. \n\n\"Ow!\" I yelled, dropping the headphones and the little people along with them. Before I could stamp on them, however, they were already scuttling off toward the high street. As they disappeared into a sewer, I heard one outline the plan to the other. \n\n\"To the lost and found!\" it squealed. \"We'll find another fucker who'll appreciate us!\"",
"HeAs I pull my headphones out of my pocket, there dangling by the cord, I see two peevish elves stark eyed staring back at me. Their supor and my shock combine for a frozen moment of perplexion. Breaking the stalemate I scoop them up in my other hand lest they scamper off. Undoubtedly positing an explanation the larger elf begins, \"Well you se-\". \"MOTHERfuckers...\" I mutter, as much to myself as to them, in bewildered contempt as I turn my hand over and smack my palm down onto my desk flattening the little pricks.",
"I asked, \"Why the hell do you little punks tangle up headphone cords?\"\n\n\"Well, we would love to make shoes,\" said one of them, \"But you see, these giant corporations and entire nations filled with cruel child labour made us redundant.\" \n\n\"And don't get me started on the toys,\" said the other elf. \n\nI contemplated squishing the elves for a moment. Then I considered their cruel fate. Their livelihood stolen by humans enslaving other humans. Leaving these magical creatures with nothing better to do than to make themselves a nuisance. We have stolen the magic from our lives and replaced it cold soulless consumerism. \n\nThen I decided I was high and ignored the whole thing. ",
"\"Wow, that's a pretty amazing story of how you ended up here in this realm and in my pocket, but I have a favor to ask of you fairies\" I asked inquisitively. \n\nThe two tiny ones annoyingly shouted in synchronization, \"We're elves!!\" \n\n\"OH, right, I'm sorry.\", I said with an obliged apology. \n\n\"It's quite alright, fair skinned ogre.\", giggled Piptupt while Tupttip laughed uncontrollably. \"What is this favor that you ask of?\" \n\nI picked them up and whispered to them carefully while gauging the volume of my voice, \"Can you please... \n\n\n",
"**Headphone Elves** \n\nI'm supposed to be studying for exams right now, but somehow or another my laptop has managed to get reddit.com typed in its address bar and now I'm on reddit. Worried, I try to close the browser window but accidentally end up navigating to r/videos. Then I try to close that, but my hand slips and instead I press the video about the nursing home and the nursery because it looks adorable. Well, shoot. Might as well watch it now that it's already playing. \n\n An old man's voice blasts out of my laptop and those around me at the library look unamused. I quickly pause the video, grab my ear buds, and start to plug my ear buds into my headphone jack. \n\n\"Hey! Watch it!\" a teeny voice says. I locate the sound of the voice. It's a tiny man in suspenders and boots dangling off the earbud plug. \n\nNeedless to say I'm taken aback. My first reaction is just to brush him off the plug, when another tiny man appears from inside of my laptop. \n\n\"Touch him and you won't get that finger back,\" the second one warns. I withdraw my hand. \n\n\"Now, what are you doing plugging these earbuds in?\" the first one asks. \"Don't you know you have to study for exams?\" \n\n\"Well, yes,\" I whisper, trying not to disturb the people around me. \"I was just going to watch one video and then study.\" \n\n\"No, you won't. You'll watch a bunch of videos, not study, then freak out tonight when you realize you haven't done anything.\" \n\nThe tiny man has a point. \n\n\"Maybe,\" I say, \"but what's it to you?\" \n\n\"If you don't study, we get in trouble,\" he says. \n\n\"What?\" \n\n\"You see, when you went to college, your parents knew you were never going to study. So they hired us to make you study.\" \n\n\"Okay, but perhaps they could have hired me a tutor,\" I say. \n\n\"Well,\" the second one chimes in again, \"your parents thought you'd be more likely to study with more forceful coercion. Unfortunately, soon after Jeb and I got here we got trapped in the shrink ray in your Physics lab. Honestly, why does your college even have a shrink ray?\" \n\n\"I'm not sure.\" \n\nThe first one hops up on my computer and leans back against the screen. \n\n\"So we decided to be trickier,\" he says. \"We decided to instead sabotage your procrastination efforts.\" \n\n\"So why were you in my pocket?\" \n\n\"We were tangling your headphones,\" he says.\n\n\"Huh,\" I say. \"How long did you spend in my pocket?\" \n\n\"About 2 hours,\" the second one says. \n\n\"Interesting. Well, that's really weird, and really uncomfortable. I'm just going to leave and watch reddit videos elsewhere.\" \n\nWith that I stand up. I go to close my laptop, expecting the first one to get out of the way. Amazingly, he just stands there. \n\n\"I'll smush you,\" I warn. \n\n\"Try me,\" he said. \n\nI close the laptop slowly. The man just stands there. It reaches his head. He still stands there. \n\n\"Last warning,\" I say. \n\n\"I'm stronger than I look.\" \n\nThe other teeny man just watches, smugly. I give up. I close the laptop quickly. \n\nThe tiny man doesn't even have a chance to scream before he's blood and guts on my laptop keyboard. The one surviving tiny man and I look at each other, then at the blood, then at each other again. Panicking, I reach out and smack him onto the table. He's just a smush, too. Then I gather my stuff quickly and leave. \n\n\"I'm not a bad person, I'm not a bad person, I'm not a bad person,\" I repeat to myself, desperately trying to convince myself that it's true. \n\nI reach my room and take a long, hot shower, trying to forget about the horrors of what I just did. \n\n*Written with a twist by Stranger_andStranger*\n\n*********************************************************************\nIf any of you liked this story, please consider subscribing to my subreddit, r/Stranger_andStranger, which features all of my stories. Thanks!",
"Rhea reached into her pocket, searching for the headphones that she knew would be inevitably entwined in a frustrating tangle of knots. Instead of wires, though, her fingers felt velvet fabric. Grasping it firmly, she pulled it out.\n\nOnce she got a good look at what she was holding, she nearly dropped it in her surprise. A fat, squat, elf gazed up at her, caught in the act of creating one of those particularly difficult-to-untangle knots. \n\n\"Err....hi,\" he said sheepishly. His lanky colleague, who was dangling precariously on the other end of the headphones that he held, waved unabashedly at her. \n\n\"Um...what the hell?\" Rhea rubbed her eyes. She was hallucinating. That was it. It must have been the fucking sleep deprivation. She knew she shouldn't have stayed up all night to finish that paper. Fuck it, she decided. She should just embrace the madness while it lasted. \"What are you?\"\n\n\"We're here to tangle your headphones,\" the first elf replied. \"Cheer-io!\" said the second, nodding happily.\n\n\"Why me?\" Rhea asked wearily. \n\n\"Well, everybody has two of us!\" said the lankier one. \"We were just assigned to you at birth.\"\n\n\"You know what?\" Rhea said. \"How about we make a deal. If the two of you swear to God to fuck off forever, I won't kill the two of you here and now.\"\n\n\"Erm...that sounds pretty fair, don't you think, Pippy?\" the fat one replied.\n\n\"Yes, quite fair, quite fair, Skippy.\"\n\n\"Great. See you never,\" Rhea replied. The two of them released the headphone wires, dropping to the table. After curtly saluting her, they scurried off into the shadows.\n\n\"Wait, wait! Wait you little fuckers!\" Rhea started abruptly. \"At least first untangle this hot mess you've left behind!\"\n\nUnsurprisingly, there was no reply."
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[WP] One particular twisted genie grants unlimited wishes at the price of one of the remaining years of your life per wish. Many have gambled their time away believing they can outsmart the genie. None have succeeded... until now.
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"I have an almost perverse, no, voyeuristic. Well not voyeuristic, more like vicarious fascination with how people respond to something new. And I’m not talking about the release of a new iPhone, I mean new in the sense that people actually have no baseline for how to act. Hypothetically, when aliens arrive. In reality, dealing with the idea of your own mortality. Either way, there’s no precedent. There’s a deep desire to understand, and most of us feel like we know what it would be like. But there’s no legitimate grasp. It’s tenuous at best. So when they announced the whole wishes for years program, I was ecstatic. You get a wish, rules pending, in exchange for a year of your life. You want a million dollars. Sure. Want to spend a day with your deceased relative. No problem. Want someone dead. Well no, that was banned. Looking past the whole civilization dooming element of all of it, the sociological pitfalls were amazing. And predictable. \n\nThe most common malady, at least at first. Literally wishing yourself to death. You couldn’t wish to know the specifics of your death. That was rule number one. So with each wish you made, the chances of it pushing your life back closer and closer to now became increasingly more probable. And more often than not, people would die. Occasionally it was sad. On their first wish, their lifespan less than a year, a terminal illness not yet known. But really, for a vast majority it was from just stupidity. Making an absurd amount of wishes. It has become so common now that I’m surprised we don’t have a name for it yet. \n\nIt’s driven by this assumption that one year of your life when you are young is inherently more valuable than when you are old. And that each and every one of our choices is at least partially driven by this minute calculation. Take up smoking, or drinking. Get your motorcycle license. Go skydiving or rock climbing. You are potentially giving up years of your life later, for increased happiness now. In economics this idea is called utility. The idea that we each make decisions about what we buy. To what extent do I value the usefulness of a good. Or an action. You are depriving yourself of choice later, by making it now. For personal gain, or happiness. It’s a tool that is useful in theory, but so hard to pinpoint since it’s entirely based in subjective response.\n\nLike with anything, this brought about an entirely new industry that surrounded it. At first it was chaos, the world was met with billions of new billionaires, and enough died that cemeteries filled up entirely. Money became worthless, a manmade inflation that would make Zimbabwe or the Weimer Republic seem not so bad. But economies are relentless. To pay someone, you now included small aspects of things they want in your next wish. They get the goods, you take on all the risk. Of course insurance companies were pretty much the only institution that remained a truly viable source of goods. \n\nThis is where I come in. I developed a proprietary algorithm to quantify the actual cost of one more wish. This became an absolutely critical part of deciding to make one more wish. Based on an innumerable amount of criteria, you were simply given a percentage based on number of wishes. 17% for 1 wish, 38% for 5 wishes. Which was essentially, you have a 17% chance of dying on your next wish, and 37% on dying in your next five. And with each report, a tax was levied. A tax in the form of a part of your next wish. Of course I didn’t get all of them. There’s bureaucracy, and security, and infrastructure development. But I am fairly certain that I am the only person left that has yet to make a single wish. Because all of my wishes are merely given to me. And it’s perfect. And it’s the pinnacle of the human condition.\n",
"\"You can't just wish for immortality or extended life, then?\"\n\n\"Nope.\"\n\n\"Anything else off limits?\"\n\n\"It's Aladdin Rules plus no immortality. So you can't wish death on someone else, can't resurrect anyone, can't wish for true love. Though if it's honeys you want, I can hook those up for you. Just no emotional attachment.\"\n\n\"Mhm.\" Seemed like there was still quite a bit that could be done, even with the rules. Still, I'd heard tell of this particular djinn. He wouldn't cut me off at three wishes-- I could have just about as many as I wanted. But there was a catch.\n\n\"And it's one year off my life for each wish, right?\"\n\n\"Yep. That's the cost of making wishes.\"\n\nI've heard what happens to people who meet this djinn. He's quite clever and extremely persuasive. Even if his victims originally plan on only making a few wishes, he usually manages to knock people down to just a few years of life, at most. Most people who meet this djinn actually wish themselves into their graves.\n\nI didn't really expect to meet this djinn-- or any djinn, really-- but I did have a plan ready. I'd find out *exactly* how many wishes I could spare.\n\n\"All right, here goes nothing then. For my first wish, I wish to know exactly how long I have left to live.\"\n\nA twisted smile played across the djinn's face.\n\n\"I was hoping you'd say something like that. The remainder of your natural life, before you made that wish, was exactly one year and one day.\"\n\n*edit: continuation/ alternate ending in comments*"
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[WP] Keep smiling
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"Funny thing, about monkeys. Apes, too. Primates, in general. \n\nThey don't smile.\n\nTo a human, smiling is a sign of friendliness. To every other species, including a fair number of non-primates, what a smile is, is a *threat display*. It's a reminder to others of their nice mouthful of sharp, *sharp* teeth. Even for chimpanzees, our closest living relatives, this is true. Think of that, the next time you see a chimp 'smiling' on film.\n\nThe wider the grin, the clearer the reminder: 'I have long fangs. You have an intact throat. And *in a few seconds*, only **one** of those things will *still be true.* \n\nAs anyone who has studied primates for any period of time can tell you, you don't soon forget that.\n\nHere's another interesting fact. Smiling is a universal trait of humanity. Everywhere you go, a smile is a smile. But, the conventions of humanity are fairly new, because *humanity* is fairly new. Other traits cross species-wide boundaries, like laughing, for example. Still, smiling remains a bizarrely exclusive human peccadillo, one whose uniqueness goes almost completely over our heads.\n\nAnd here's the third interesting fact: Convergent evolution. Species, fairly unrelated by genetics, that evolve to fill similar niches, have similar features. There are usually small, significant differences, but broadly speaking, they are identical. Chimpanzees share a lot of our bodily characteristics, since they evolved together with us from a common ancestor, in a similar environment.\n\nAll of these facts explain why, after facing a welcoming ceremony featuring a huge mass of smiling humanity, the envoys of a technologically advanced race of extraterrestrials (secretly part of an invading armada, its mind set on genocide) retreated back into their shining chrome ship, shaking from terror.\n\nTheir pale mauve skin still damp with cold sweat, they reviewed their findings on us. \n\nOutside, puzzled diplomats and military officers scratched their heads on the podium. They shrugged, and one suggested that their visitors looked afraid.\n\n\"*Psh*!\" Said one of the gentlemen from the Pentagon. \"They've got 500 years of technological edge on us, easy! Why would they be scared of us? We don't even *look* mean!\" He said the last bit a little resentfully. He'd wanted to carry a gun, but they'd said *no*, and it wouldn't matter, anyway.\n\nWithin the ship, they found the file labelled \"emojis.\" With mounting horror they looked at every single smiling cat, dog, fish, *radiator*, *traffic cone*... all of them with faces. All of them filled, *filled*, with *psychotic rage*.\n\nThey rummaged through their research again, stopping on \"adult magazines.\"\n\nThe aliens, to their credit, tended to actually read things for the articles, but now, they looked at the pictures. To their horror, they saw beautiful women.\n\nWearing nothing but smiles.\n\nOne whispered harshly to the other, next to him: \" *Even their* sex objects *threaten me with murder!*\"\n\nThe other nodded. \"These creatures are *insane*. We have to scuttle this mission. It's too dangerous! We have to burn the planet!\"\n\n\"We can't do that either! The best thing about this planet are it's natural resources, and cleansing it, would take far more energy than we could get back!\"\n\nThere was a low knocking. They both turned, to see the chief diplomat of the UN standing outside the hatch uncertainly, hand over his eyes to shade out the sun as he peered in uncertainly. He made eye contact with them, gave his friendliest wave, and his most impervious, *rictus-esque* political grin.\n\nThey shuddered.\n\n\"We have to get the hell out of here.\"\n\n\"Well, what about the planet? There's plenty of other scavenger species out there, that'll want it too! They'll take everything!\"\n\n\"Once they've seen what we've seen, they'll walk away, *too*.\" The lead alien said, gravely. \"Get us out of here, before they try to wear our skins, or *something*.\"\n\nTHE END\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nEpilogue:\n\n...A bit weird, I know.\n\nStill, if you liked it, you might think about subscribing to my subreddit!\n\n...And now that you've thought about it, you can [click here to go there!](https://np.reddit.com/r/IWasSurprisedToo/)\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] While doing autopsy on a person diagnosed with schizophrenia, coroner discovers thin lens on patient's eyes and implanted hearing aid device in ears. Looking through lens, coroner sees other beings in the room.
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"Fante stopped because the patient was wearing a kind of lens on the eyes and then Fante looked further and saw that the lens looked much more technologically advanced than anything he had ever seen before and the dead patient smiled at the pun and went back to being dead and so Fante picked up the lens gingerly with index and thumb finger and turned it in his hands carefully to not smudge the ethereallike glass and then without thinking he held the lens casually up to his eye not expecting to see anything but then he saw moving shapes, clomping towards the dead guys body so he moved out the way to observe them and observed that they were weird anthropomorphic figures and then he cringed in terror as they spread their leathery wings and burst through the roof invisibly into the churning sky above them. Fante scratched his head. He could have sworn he had seen one of those demony things holding a bright blue spool of thread.",
"\"Lenses, Mr. O'Neil?\"\n\n\"Y-yes, sir. Lenses,\" James stammered nervously. For a moment he realized how crazy he must sound.\n\nThe director adjusted himself in his chair and then fiddled with his tie for a moment, \"And how, if I may ask, did you find these *lenses*?\"\n\nIt had been the third case in a week. A relatively healthy young person who had apparently acquired an acute case of paranoid schizophrenia long after the average age of onset. There was no family history of such disturbances and no warning signs. All three bodies had similar injuries and cause of death - Extreme self-inflicted claw marks around the eyes and spontaneous cardiac arrest compounded by extremely high levels of adrenaline and sleep deprivation indicated a death caused by, quite simply, pure fear. But why the eyes?\n\n\"I decided to cut into the eyes,\" O'Neil paused for a moment before continuing, \"It is against protocol, I know, but I had to know why they all clawed at their own eyes. My findings, no sign of external trauma, no allergic or chemical reactions present. But, I found scars.\"\n\nThe director cleared his throat, \"Scars, Mr. O'Neil?\"\n\n\"Yes, scars.\"\n\n\"Is that not to be expected?\" He narrowed his eyes at the frail-looking examiner across from him.\n\n\"N-No, sir. Mechanical damage caused by the scratching wouldn't have had time to scar. And anyway, these were *surgical* scars.\"\n\nThe portly director rested his eyes upon the cigar humidifier on his desk, but didn't reach for one. \"Is this unusual? Corrective vision surgery is quite common these days, examiner.\"\n\n\"No history of it, sir. And the incisions didn't match up with laser surgery. That is when I discovered...\"\n\n\"The lenses?\"\n\nO'Neil nodded, \"The lenses.\"\n\n\"And you claim that you saw *images* in these lenses?\" The director asked. He was now fiddling with an unlit cigar.\n\n\"As strange as it sounds... Yes,\" The examiner took a moment to swallow before speaking again, \"More like *videos*. The images moved. I could barely make them out, blurry, but it was like a video. A miniature screen.\"\n\nThe director glared, \"I think you've been watching too much science fiction, O'Neil. This sort of thing just doesn't exist yet. Projector lenses?\" He scoffed.\n\n\"Maybe, sir, but I saw what I saw.\"\n\n\"And what did you see?\" A raised eyebrow.\n\nJames O'Neil looked around the office nervously, \"I saw people. They were in the room with me. I couldn't make out the faces, but they... I thought I could feel them. This wasn't just... a projection, sir. One appeared to be sitting on the table. That'd have to be active software or ...\"\n\nThe director was smiling. It was that sort of smile an adult gives a child caught in a ridiculous lie. But, somehow he also looked worried. \"And where is your proof, examiner O'Neil?\"\n\n\"The lenses, they... melted.\"\n\n\"Melted?\"\n\n\"Yes, I placed them in saline, but they fell apart when I tried to re-examine them a few moments later. But, but I have pictures - video even.\"\n\nThe director waited patiently, still fiddling with a cigar, as the examiner slid a personal cell phone across the table. The phone was showing a video, surprisingly high-def, of what appeared to be a contact lens sitting on the cold steel of the examination table. In the curvature of the lens one could make out what appeared to be a reflection that did not match the scenery of the room.\n\n\"Did you send this to anyone, examiner?\"\n\n\"Of course not, sir. Protocol does not allow transmissions from inside the facility.\"\n\nThe director nodded, looking grim. \"And how are you feeling, Mr. O'Neil?\"\n\nThe little examiner looked confused at the question. He watched the director place the phone into a drawer. \"I, uh. I feel fine, sir. I'm not over worked or anything if that is what you're...\" He froze mid sentence.\n\nHis boss smiled at him from across the desk.\n\nJames O'Neil, the medical examiner, stood up quickly, knocking his chair down behind him. He looked unsteady, pale. He was holding his arms out as if pushing something away. He mumbled quickly, \"What is this?\" The eyes were darting around the room, focusing on nothing.\n\n\"Standard protocol, James.\", the director sounded bored, but continued to watch the flailing examiner.\n\nHe had his lab-coat off now and was swinging it around the room, apparently trying to keep something at bay. The examiner was wide-eyed as he watched the creatures that surrounded him. They were humanoid, but *wrong*. They flickered in and out of existence. The creatures had no eyes, instead empty dark pits where eyes should be. James backed into a corner in an attempt to stay away from them. He could hear nothing except an all encompassing full-spectrum whine, it was horrifyingly loud. The room started to fade away, but the creatures stayed. The noise in his ears sounded like whispers now - whispers at the volume of a shout.\n\nThe director calmly pressed the intercom on his desk and spoke normally, \"Security, my office. It's O'Neil, he's gone mad.\" He pulled his finger away from the button and stood up, walking calmly past the examiner and into the hall with a satisfied smile. The poor man had been crouched into the corner now, whimpering, slowly tearing at his eyes with bloodstained fingers. He locked the door behind him and waited for security to arrive.\n"
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[WP] Retell a classic fairy tale scene from the prince's point of view.
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"The prince stared down at the slipper in his hand. \"Jeeves,\" he said.\n\n\"Yes, my prince?\"\n\n\"How do girls even wear this stuff?\" He poked it. \"I mean, seriously, is this thing made out of glass? That can't be safe. What if it'd cracked while we were dancing? She could have sliced her heel right off.\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" I said. \"Fashion has ever been a dangerous game.\"\n\n\"Yeah, anyway.\" He tapped the shoe on the table. \"I like this girl. Want to see her again.\"\n\nI'd thought he might. They'd danced together half the night. I handed him a slip of paper. \n\nThe prince unfolded it. \"Sweet! You have her address.\"\n\n\"Coachmen must always provide their information to the stable master upon arrival in the mews. I retrieved it from him this morning.\" I also had it on good account that the coachmen would be mice again this morning--fairy godmothers and their refusal to hire real servants at a decent wage! \n\nHe turned to go. \"Thought it would be harder than this.\"\n\n\"It will be, my prince, when you tell the tale. Tell her you searched the land. Tell her you tried the slipper on every girl in every village, town, and hamlet. Tell her you'd despaired of ever finding her.\"\n\n\"Right! Good idea!\" He bit his lip. \"There's just one complication.\"\n\n\"I know, my prince. I will manage it.\"\n\nHe hadn't needed to mention it. I watched him go, a skip in his step, then sighed and--metaphorically of course--rolled up my sleeves. I entered his bedroom and girded my loins--also metaphorically--to deal with the other girl. The *after* midnight girl. *Well, what did you expect me to do* I could see him saying to me with that roguish grin on his face. Just go to bed--alone?--after the first chick ran away?\n\nPrinces. I hoped this little Ella girl knew what she was getting into.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"The Prince shouted *“whoa”* to his trusted steed. He drew back the reins and brought the horse to a halt at the foot of the lonely tower.\n\nHe paused. \n\nSilence.\n\nWas something wrong? Usually Rapunzel would be singing a beautiful song to greet him, but not today. Perhaps she was asleep? Perhaps she was nervous?\n\nHe slowly approached the foot of the tower. The thought of holding her in his arms brought joy to his heart. He had waited long enough. The time to escape was upon them. She could leave Mother Gothel, be married to him, and the two of them would live happily ever after.\n\n*”Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair, so that I may climb the golden stair.”* he cried.\n\nSure enough, a few seconds later Rapunzel’s lustrous golden hair was cast down from the tower. The Prince didn’t hesitate, he climbed up the hair, trying carefully not to tug too hard on it. Higher and higher he climbed until he was at the top of the tower at the window where he had entered the tower on several occasions.\n\nHe clambered in, gasping for breath:\n\n*“Rapunzel?”*\n\nNo. Not Rapunzel. It was the witch – Mother Gothel.\n\nWith her long black dress, her crocked smile and evil glare, she assessed the Prince, looking at him up and down whilst he regained his breath and climbed through the window and into the tower.\n\n*“Well aren’t you a handsome man? Tall. Strong. Noble. It’s no wonder you won my Rapunzel’s heart.”*\n\nIn Mother Gothel’s hands, she held the end of Rapunzel’s hair. It had all been cut off. The witch had thrown the hair out of the window and hauled the Prince up herself. He glanced around the room – No sign of Rapunzel.\n\nA thousand questions flew through the Prince’s head, but only one met his lips: *“What have you done with her?!”*\n\nGothel’s face went red with rage.\n\n*”What have I done with her? My dear Prince, it is you who took advantage of that innocent girl. You had your way with her, and she was with child as a result!”*\n\n*“She’s with child?”* The Prince said, bewildered.\n\nGothel’s head fell, tears were brought to her eyes.\n\n*“The poor girl didn’t even realise it herself until I pointed out the signs. She was nauseous, anxious, and her waistline was growing. I loved that girl… I kept her safe... I taught her… But I could not forgive such a betrayal.”*\n\nThe Prince was panicked: *”What did you do to her?”*\n\nGothel’s expression calmed. She regained her composure: *”When she confessed to me that you had been visiting her, and that the two of you had made a plan to escape I was enraged. I dragged her by the hair and with this knife I cut off all of her hair.”* She held up a rusty serrated knife.\n\nShe continued, retaining a calm tone: *“I told her that she was a lecherous little slut, who had defied my trust. I took her to the bottom of the tower and threw her out. I told her never to return.”*\n\n*“How could you do that to her?”* The Prince cried.\n\nGothel took in a deep breath, turned towards him and answered in a sarcastic tone: *”I thought that she wanted to leave me. If so, it was going to be on my terms.”*\n\nThe Prince had regained his breath. He paced the room for a few seconds, composing his thoughts. He considered whether Gothel was lying – No. She had no reason to be telling falsehood. Maybe Rapunzel was close by? He could search the forest for her.\n\nHe turned to Gothel, who had wandered over the fire and was gazing into the flames: *“When did this happen? Could she still be nearby?”*\n\nHe could see Gothel smile, and slowly twist her head to meet his gaze.\n\n*”Oh, dearest Prince. I’m sorry to tell you this but Rapunzel is surely dead. I threw her out a week ago with no food and with no knowledge of where she might find safe haven.”*\n\nThough she mockingly offered consolation, the Prince knew that she was taking great pleasure in watching his heartbreak. It was clear that Gothel was somewhat saddened by the loss of Rapunzel, the girl who had kept her company for all these years. But Gothel was taking immense pleasure in witnessing the trauma of the man who tried to steal her Rapunzel away.\n\nThe woods were always dangerous, filled with all manner of evil creatures. And at this time of year the Prince knew that Rapunzel would have frozen in the night without shelter.\n\nHe went into a panicked state. He looked all around the small rooms of the tower. As Gothel sat by the fire and watched his misery unfold he frantically blurted out that she must be lying, that his love must be hiding here somewhere. But it was all to no avail. Rapunzel was gone, and he had not seen her around the Tower as he had approached it. \n\nHe fell to Gothel’s knees and pleaded with her: *”Tell me where I should start looking for her. Surely you must have some idea of where she might be?”*\n\nGothel held his hand in hers and slowly whispered to him: *“I suggest you find the nearest wolf den. Who knows – Perhaps they haven’t eaten all of her yet.”*\n\nIn that moment the Prince lost all hope. His love, and the child she bore him, were surely dead. He got to his feet and staggered over to the window. He was in a state of despair; he didn’t want to live without Rapunzel. Perhaps God, in all his mercy, might reunite them in heaven. Not wanting to live another moment in this cruel world without her: He resolved to hurl himself from the window, letting gravity seal his mortal fate.\n\nWithout another moment’s hesitation, he jumped out of the widow, and fell the sixty feet to the floor below. But gravity was a cruel mistress: He hit a bed of thorns at the tower’s base. He was badly bruised, and thorns had pieced his eyes, but he was alive. \n\nPain. Unbelievable pain. His body was broken and his soul was utterly crushed.\n\nHe dragged himself out of the thorns. He was blind, he couldn’t see anything. Screaming in pain and wailing in sorrow he dragged himself across the earth, knowing not where he was going.\n\nBut his trusted steed had seen his ordeal. He trotted over to his loyal master put down his head, and allowed the Prince to blindly grip at his mane so that he could drag him to his feet. The Prince, still in pain, tried to mount the stallion. Twice he tried to bring his leg over the horse and twice he lost his balance and collapsed. His palms were covered in blood and he couldn't find the stirrups. But with the third struggle, he was able to haul himself into the saddle, and his steed trotted off into the woods, towards his home.\n\nAs the Prince lost consciousness, he made a silent plea to God, asking him to take pity on the soul of his beloved Rapunzel."
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Something that happened because of Craigslist.
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[WP] Craigslist story
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"Most people in today’s society, if asked, would probably agree that the nuclear bomb is man’s deadliest creation. I disagree. I think when calculating the human cost of the monstrous things invented by our species, nothing comes close to the abomination known as Craig’slist. It will fuck your life up!\n\n\nThe thing that makes Craig’slist so dangerous is that you know nothing about the people you’re dealing with on that site and you might not find out until it’s too late. One minute, you’re meeting someone about a used lava lamp, the next you find yourself shackled up in some basement dungeon getting fucked in the ass by Lawrence Taylor. It’s a real gamble.\n\n\nCraig’slist is a virtual haven for every creepy, slimey, piece of eel shit that can get their jizz coated hands on a keyboard and a mouse. There are some seriously disturbed people out there. No one should ever, under any circumstance, meet anyone from that site alone and never anywhere private…and damn sure not at your own home.\n\nThis is the story of the time I learned this lesson the hard way…The Sean Ward Way.\n\nIt’s a Thursday night. My domestic lady friend has just been invited to Girl’s Night Out. She has a daughter whom I agree to stay home and guard while she’s gone. Now, dear reader, I can lie to you and say that I am doing this out of genuine good will, but I shan’t insult your intelligence with such blatant deceit! Tonight, I have a self-serving, alterior motive.\n\n\nI haven’t been able to watch internet porn without looking over my shoulder in weeks! I have some catching up to do. The minute my girlfriend leaves and the kid falls asleep, I’m going to fire up the computer, pour honey on my dick, and give it the sweetest beating it’s ever had! I can’t wait!\n\n\nFun Fact: Listen up, female readers: If your husband or boyfriend encourages you to go bar-hopping with your slut friends, it’s not about him wanting you have a good time. It’s about him being sick and tired of you never shutting the fuck up. He wants you to go and annoy someone else so he can jerk off in peace. He desperately craves one night off from hearing your annoying clucking and having to pretend to be interested in whatever it is you’re flapping about. Got that, bitches? Good. Now shut your Goddamn potato traps and let me finish the story.\n\n\nMoving along…\n\n\nMy lady friend gets all churched up and puts on her best, “I bet you want to cum on my tits” outfit and heads out the door. The kid falls asleep soon after. It’s go time! I grab my bottle of lube and my wash rag. I put on a pair of pajama pants with a slit in the crotch so’s I can hurry up and put my dick away should the child awaken un-expectadly.\n\n\nI begin. It is slow, sweet and gentle. I take my time and make it last. I go to all of my favorite sites and stroke my cock for atleast two hours, all the while fighting back the tsunami that’s trying to break it's way through the meat-levy. I end up watching a wife swap video. The chicks are super hot and just watching them 69 while their husbands pound them makes my cock harder than remedial math. I blow one of the biggest wads I have ever shot without a chick there to assist me. \n \nI wipe myself clean and lean back in the chair. The orgasm induced seratonin courses through my soul and fills my brain with little neon butterflies. It is truly enchanting. I haven’t been so happy in weeks!\n\n\nI go shower and put my tools away, then I sit back down in front of the computer. I can’t stop thinking about wife-swaps. Something about seeing two guys hammer-fuck one another’s wife and seeing the girls enjoy every damn bit of it makes my cock harder than remedial math. I’m no stranger to threeways, fourways, or just full-on orgies. Remember, I’m the same guy who willingly watched another guy fuck his girlfriend, but this is different. These are two couples in a commited relationship borrowing each other’s spouse just as casually as if they were borrowing a lawn mower, or a cup of sugar from next door. It’s a bastard’s delight! I want this. I decide for my girlfriend that she wants this as well. And, so it shall be! \n\nNow, there's one surefire way to find Godless filth on the internet...Craig'slist!\n\n I go to cragslist.org, click the link for Ausin personals, and post a thread called “Couple looking to Make Friends with Other Couple” . I write a brief discription about the type of activity we…well, I desire. It’s simple. I want the girls to play with each other, while we bang them. I also add that under no circumstance will there be any contact between the males and that we will only answer an inquiry if it has pictures of both parties. Then, I upload some modest pics of us, sit back, and let the wheels of progess turn ‘round and ‘round.\n\n\nMy girlfried comes home. She is drunker than an Irish brewmeister. We go to bed and I wait for her to initate a fuck session, but she begins to snore, so I go out for one more round of peter-pull. Now I’m sleepy.\n\n\nI go to work the next day and I check my email from my phone. I have a response to my ad, some dude using the Yahoo address ‘daddie’s8inchsteele’. He states that he and his girlfriend are also looking to make new friends, but they are both very picky about appearances. He asks to see pictures of us. He includes his phone number. I noticed that he attached his own photos to the email. I take a look at them. There is a picture of a nude woman taking a celphone pic of herself in the mirror, you know the kind that people with no friends take and post on their Facebook. He includes a pic of himself. He is a sort of freaky looking caucasoid with lots of piercings. I don’t know how to evaluate male attractiveness, but I can rate male ugliness with clinical precision. I don’t believe he is ugly, but I’m not so sure he’s what most females would consider attractive. He looks like the type of guy who does all of his shopping at Spencer’s and Hot Topic. \n\n\n\n \n\n",
"I text message him and ask him a few basic questions about him and the female; Where they live, how long have they known each other, have they ever killed anyone..so on. I email him a normal pic of myself and then I ask my girl to send a nude picture of herself to my phone. She does. I forward it to the stranger I just met on the internet.\n\n\nNipple Rings invites my girlfriend and I to his place in Austin. I say it might be a better idea for them to come down here. He says he will check with his girlfriend and text me back\n\nI figure now would be a good time to tell my girlfriend what I have done without her knowledge or consent. \n\nI text her and tell her that I put an ad in Craig’slist under their personals section which stated that we’re a couple looking to meet another for some no-strings attached fun. I don’t remember the exact words of her reply message, but it was something in the vicinity of “You fucking did what!?”\n\n\nI tell her they want to meet us tonight and they invited us over to their place. She asks when I sey all of this up. I say I did it about five minutes after I had just finished whipping off to some swinger-porn last night. I mention that they sent pics. She wants to see them.\n\n\nI send them. She agrees the girl is too far away to see what she looks like or if her body is any good. She does not think the other guy is at all attractive. I want to say “Who gives a fuck what you think? This is my fantasy, not yours.”, but then I remember that people don’t do what you want them to when you’re mean to them. Instead, I assure her that we don't have to do anything with them. We should just hang out with them. If we end up wanting to take it to another level, fine. If not, we shake the scene. I succeed in easing her trepidation. She suggests we invite them to our place instead, because that will lessen the chance of us being bent over and given the Lawrence Taylor experience. I like where her head is at.\n\n\nAfter work, I call Nipple Rings and tell him “Operation Hole Exchange” has been approved by Congress, but that we prefer to host the activity at our place. He’s cool with it. We shoot the shit for a few minutes and sort of ‘feel each other out’ over the phone. He seems pretty normal and I don’t get the impression that he has recently killed and consumed another human being. He assures me that he and his partner are both regular, down to earth people that are just out to keep their sex-life fresh and exciting by fucking other people right in front of each other. I like their attitude. However, there is one part of our conversation that raises a red flag.\n\nNipple Rings says “There’s just one thing you might want to know about my girl. It’s really no big deal, and I actually wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t pointed it out to me.” I’m certain the next part of this conversation is going to include the words ‘Vaginal Cyst’ and I prepare to hang up, but instead he says “My girlfirend used to be a wild party girl long before I met her. She used to do a lot of drugs”. \n\n \n\n“Yes” I think. “And those drugs, in combination with her, uninhibited, high-risk. Sexual behavior, contributed to her contracting vadge pustules, didn’t they? Good day, sir!”\n\n\nNipple Rings continues. “She did a lot of heroin and coke one night, and ended up in a coma for a few weeks. She came out of it ok, but she has a slight disability because of it.”\n\n\nOk. Now I’m thinking this might have been a bad idea.\n\n\n“What kind of disability?” I ask.\n\n\n“Well, like I said, I wouldn’t have noticed it had she not pointed it out, but sometimes she tends to speak a little slow. It’s really nothing to be concerned with, but I thought I’d atleast let you know.”\n\n\nThat’s it? She’s just a slow-talking slut who enjoys a good Horse and Pony show every now and again? Whoopitee-Doo. I’ve fucked plenty of those. All she has to do is keep her stupid mouth shut and the problem takes care of it’s self.\n\n\nI tell Nipple Rings, that it shouldn’t be a problem. We agree to meet at 9pm at my girlfriend’s and my abode.\n\n\nI get off work and head home. I halfway expect my shit to be packed and waiting on the doorstep when I arrive. It isn’t. \n\n\nThe girlfriend and I discuss our plan for the evening. I reiterate that she is under no obligation to do anything she isn’t comfortable with. We’ll just have a few drinks with them and see how it plays out.\n\nOnce again, my reasons behind this statement are completely grounded in selfishness. \n\nThe girlfriend and I did something like this once before, but it was completely spontaneous. We were out drinking one night with her slut friend who I had desperately wanted to threeway with. We all ended up back at her place, but The Slut had also invited this guy she had been banging. The two girls started making out on The Slut’s bed while the dude and I watched. I decided to capitolize on the moment, believing that now was the perfect chance to fuck both of these chicks. I undressed my girlfriend and started jousting her while feeling up the other chick. The other guy started fucking the slut friend. I figured after a few minutes of this, the other chick would be so drunk and horny that she would be ready to accept my cock as freely as my girlfriend was now doing. The other guy could go fuck himself. It did not go as planned. I got way too excited and I soon had to pull out and blast my juice onto the floor. \n \nThe chicks were still going at it hot and heavy and the other guy was still good to go.. I couldn’t get it back up, because of the other male presense. Instead of me enjoying two sopping-wet holes simultenously, I ended up standing there trying to beat my lifeless cock back into action as I watched this guy fuck his girl and mine. They even sucked his cock at the same time which is my ULTIMATE fantasy. This mother fucker had my threesome! My girlfriend said she only did it because I told her to, which I did, but only because I thought it would re-animate my disobedient donger. I got it semi hard and I fucked the other chick for like five seconds before my cock started to slouch again. I was sooooo fucking pissed. I still have a hard time talking about it.\n\nTonight will be different! Tonight, I have taken two Yohimbe boner pills and I will drink until I can’t cum. I’m having the queen bitch of all do-over’s and this time it’s my fucking show!\n\nI go to the liquor store and get a big ass bottle of rum. We start getting ready while waiting for our guests to arrive. My phone rings. It’s Nipple Rings calling to say he and his heroin harlot have just reached our apartment building. I send my girlfriend down to meet them while I finish getting dressed.\n\nMoments later, she comes back into the bathroom where I am shaving. She looks troubled. “What’s wrong?” I ask. She says “Is the girl pregnant?”. I say “I don’t think so”. She says “She looks like it. They’re both ‘yuck’.” \n\nI am worried. No one mentioned anything about being pregnant and what exactly does she mean by ‘yuck’? I must see for myself.I wash up and go out into the living room. What I see nearly gives me an anuerism.\n\n\nSitting there in the living room are two of the dirtiest, most strung-out looking, North Austinite street urchins I have ever laid my now teary eyes on. They look like they just crawled out of their car-slash-mobile meth-lab where they have been sleeping for the past eight weeks and slithered on their bellies up the stairs to our apartment.\n\n",
"I could write an entire story in itself about how unforgivably hideous these people are, but I’ll do my best to summarize it for you.\n\nThe guy is skinny, and slightly tanned with very short, almost bald hair. He has even more piercings than he did in his photos. He is wearing a ‘wife-beater’, leather pants and studded S&M-style wrist-cuffs. He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks and if he hasn’t had any Crystal within the last few hours, he’s due for a recharge any moment now. In short, he is a scummy little turd sucker who probably passed me an STD just by looking at me.\n\n\nAs for the girl; Well, let’s just say that terror has a face and I’m gazing directly into it’s eyes. This bitch is truly fucked-up. Her face is droopy and mis-aligned like that of a stroke victim. Her make-up looks as if she ran through a gauntlet of chimpanzees with lipstick and foundation pads in their hands. When she opens her mouth in a wide, uneccessarily, toothy grin, her lips peel back to reveal a guilloutine for be-heading penises. There is no way that Nipple Ring’s cock can be unscarred if he’s been sticking it in that meat-grinder. Her chompers are more crooked than Steven Hawkings’ spinal cord. I hate her. I hate them both.\n\n\nBut, wait! It gets worse. As I walk over to introduce myself, I notice something else. The girl does, in fact look pregnant, but the swell in her midsection is not due to getting knocked up, it’s because her spine is so severly mis-aligned that it causes her to bend her back in such a way that her profile looks like the letter ‘S’.\n\n\nWe’re not done yet. I shake her clammy hand and introduce myself and when she opens her cock-shredder to speak, my mind tries to reject the reality of what I’m seeing and hearing. It’s just too horrible to be true. Remember the disability that Nipple rings spoke of earlier in our phone conversation?..bull-fucking-shit! This freak is full-blown, mentally disabled. Yeah, that’s right: She’s retarded! Not ‘I’m only exaggerating for effect value’ retarded, not ‘metaphorically speaking’ retarded….she is one hundred percent ‘Hello, welcome to Goodwill, my name is Timayyyyyy’ legally fucking retarded! How on earth can this guy say that he and this beast are picky about appearances?\n\n\nIt’s official: We’re having yet another Sean Ward moment, brought to you by Fuck-up’s Annonymous.\n\n\nWhat have I done? I head straight to the kitchen, crack open the bottle of rum I purchased, and pour myself a tall glass of straight liquor. I down it as fast as I can and then I pour another. I’m going to poison myself with alcohol so I can just go to the hospital and get the fuck away from this horror-fest.\n\n\nMy girlfriend is fighting back her laughter. This fuels my rage. Nipple Rings and I start engaging in friendly chatter. I want to take this rum bottle and break it right across his mouth. His mutant girlfriend gets up to go to the restroom, because according to Nipple Rings, she power-slammed two 40oz’s of malt liqour on their way from Austin . I want her dead.\n \nMy girlfriend also excuses herself and goes to the other bathroom, probably to call her friends and tell them what a shithead I am. Nipple Rings looks and me and says. “See, it’s barely noticeable.” Barely noticeable? Are you fucking kidding me? Dude, you’re having sex with a retarded woman! Isn’t there a law against that type of shit? There is, actually. It’s called Sean’s Law and the penalty for breaking it is 100 lashes and a night with Lawrence Taylor (Yes, I am obsessed with that raper. Can you tell?). I remain silent and pour another shot.\n\nThe girlfriend returns and her eyes are red from laughter tears. Very funny, bitch. I have to put an end to this Hell. I whip out my phone and text her: “I’m gonna pretend to flip out. Just go with it”. She replies “No, that would be mean. Just live with the consequences of your actions”. Consequenses? What kind of horseshit is that? That Pinhead looking, imbicile lover just ruined my entire evening with his lies and delusions. I demand retribution!\nAs the alcohol takes it’s effects, I become increasingly hostile. I ‘toughten-up’ the conversation by mentioning my MMA fighting experience and implying that sometimes shit and people get broken when I’ve had a little Cap’n in me\n\n\nThe girlfriend suggests we all go out to the back-balcony. I know it’s just an attempt at cooling me off, but nonetheless, I agree. Maybe the fresh air will help my nausea go away. My girlfriend, who is forever the polite little social butterfly, does her best to avoid disaster by entertaining our guests with pleasant banter. Nipple rings pulls a joint out of his pocket and lights up. I am so tempted to take a hit, but I don’t want mouth-hives.\n",
"\nI text the girlfriend “Let’s get rid of these fucking carnies.” She says no, because it was my bright idea to set this up without her consent and she’s not going to be rude to them after they drove two hours to get here. She says they can just crash in the living room and in the morning we’ll be done with them. This sucks.\n\n\nNipple rings finishes up his doobie and then he asks if it would be alright to take his and The Retard’s bags upstairs. The Girlfriend says “Sure.” I sit silently and swallow more booze as they go and fetch their shit. When they return I begin making false references to a certain herpes medication that I take to suppress outbreaks and how it doesn’t seem to be working lately. Nipple Rings just smiles and says “Your girlfriend doesn’t seem to mind.” Why you filthy fucking bag of scabs, you!\n\n\nThe Retard picks up one of her bags and begins pulling items out of it. She has quite the collection of plastic cocks, vibrators and things that are designed to go in people’s asses. She gives a user review of each one as she presents it.\n\n\nThat is it! Fuck this charade, I’m sending these creeps packing. I get up and ask the girlfriend to accompany me to the kitchen. I say “I’m going to the bathroom. I know I fucked up and this is all my fault, but unless you want shit to get broken with that guy’s head, maybe those two weirdos shouldn’t be here when I get out”. She sighs and says ‘Ok’. I take a piss and come back out. Everyone is in the living room now. The girlfriend seems like she’s trying to get them to leave, but she’s being entirely too nice about it. It’s time for a little “Shock and Awe”! \n\n\nI grab the chair from in front of the computer desk and smash it against the corner of a wall it’s a folding wooden chair, but they don’t know this. It appears to break against the wall when it folds. I start screaming at my girlfriend. “You dumb bitch! You really want to go through with this!?” I slam the chair on the wall again. The guy grabs his bags and heads swiftly and silently to the door. His pet monster hobbles closley behind him. I watch through the blinds and they get in their car and drive off. The weight of the universe lifts from my shoulders.\n\n\nI look at my girlfriend and smile. It’s over. We’re safe..\n\n\nI get a text from Nipple Rings: “Call me now or I’m calling the cops on your apartment.\" The last thing I need is cops showing up here so I call him and ask him what the fuck he wants. “We want to make sure you didn't hurt your girlfriend when you freaked out and smashed the chair\" I hand her the phone. She assures them everything is fine and that I just wanted them to leave. I put the phone back to my ear and ask him if he’s satisfied. \"Dude, what the fuck? What's your problem?\" He says.\n\n\"What's my problem?\" I ask. \"No, you twisted fuck, you're the one with the problem.\"\n\n\"Everything was cool until you flipped out. You just couldn't deal with the fact that your girl was really attracted to my girl. Things were getting real hot between them and it made you crazy. You need to learn how to deal with your jealousy\".\n\n I nearly swallow my own tongue. Did this fuck-brained, lowlife just say what I think he did? He must be experiencing a complete mental breakdown if he actually believes that my girlfriend would even consider letting that slobbering babboon of his drink from the same glass as her. I let him have it.\n\n \"Are you out of your fucking mind?\" I ask. \"You actually have the balls to be seen with that fucking retard and you seriously think anyone besides you would want to fuck a creature like her? You must not even be able to buy pussy if you’re that desperate. What kind of weed are you smoking? It's making you just as stupid as that ugly bitch of yours. If you ever contact me again, I'll kick the fucking ooze out of you, you slimey cock-sucker!\" \n\n \n\nI hang up.\n\n \n\n I feel so much better after verbally abusing the mentally disabled. I immediately go to Craig'slist and delete the post that led those extras from \"The Hills Have Eyes\" to my residence. My girlfriend just stands there looking at me with eyes that say \"Way to go, genius. Way to go.”\n\nFuck you.\n\nEpilogue: I can't go into to too much detail, because I was so wasted that I honestly don't remember everything that happened later that night. All I can recall are the following snippetts:\n",
"This story is called \"My Craigslist Disaster\"\nIt is too long for one comment so you must read it from the back, or first comment to this the last part. Sooo... scroll down to the beginning comment and read from there. to here. It is a little confusing and I know that I could have done a better job of piecing it for you but I think that you will find it quite amusing and not too much trouble.\n\n Continued from last.\n\nI am drunk as Hell. I get up and stumble to the bathroom. My girlfriend in there with my phone in her hand. This is not good. She asks me about a series of text messages between me and this absolutely delicious 20-year-old tart from work. I must have given the wrong answer, because now my phone is on the floor in pieces. I am being slapped and punched from all angles. I grab her wrists, pin her to the bed,and hold her down so she can't hit me anymore. The minute I let her up she starts hitting again. I decide we are going to play a game called \"Everytime you hit me, I put a hole through a wall with my fist\". We play three rounds of this game until I fuck up and hit the corner of the wall. I hear something that sounds like a bundle of pencils snapping. That was my hand. It is broken. It's lumpy and weird looking. My girlfriend is crying. I am in the kitchen swallowing rum straight out of the bottle. I put my hand against the wall and try to hammer it straight with my other fist. It doesn't work and it hurts like a sum’bitch. I place my hand on the floor and ask the girlfriend to step on it. She says 'no'. Now I'm in the hospital.\n \nThe End\n"
] | 5
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[WP] Mary wakes up next to her dead sheep, a chupacabra fang-deep in its flesh, staring at her
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[
"The resounding echo of the shotgun blast and the horrible shriek of the goat-sucker rattled in the verdant valley, the moonlight seeming to make the jagged spray of blood shimmer blackly. Another moment of silence, the *shuck-chuck* of a shotgun, another skull-rattling crack of the rifle, and finally Mary was sure that the chupacabra was completely dead.\n\nThe original Snowy had been sucked dry years ago. It's corpse, dry as a week old cantaloupe husk, had left Mary shattered and broken for a long time. But as stories like her's had started to crop up more and more, she realized what she had to do.\n\n---\n\n\"You're sure you can stop the killing?\" The goatherd seemed skeptical. Who wouldn't be? A young woman, making promises about eliminating supernatural killers? She's either joking, or trying to steal goats.\n\n\"I am. You can pay me when the job is done, if you prefer, though the fee will be considerably greater.\" She certainly *looked* like a *niña pequeña,* but the way she spoke hinted at her experience.\n\n\"Fine. I've no choice anyway. If it can't... if my flock doesn't stop shrinking, I'll be penniless before the end of the month.\" Mary smirked at the old man, seeing him try to sidestep openly admitting that he thinks a legendary beast is the source of his troubles. Such a thing is of no importance to her... She knows.\n\nReluctantly, the old man led his most lovely, snow-white prize animal out to her, and gave her the lead. Mary simply nodded to him, a silent promise that she'd return, one goat less, one dead goat-sucker more.\n\n---\n\nThe valley was incredibly alive. The vitality of the places that chupacabras seemed to infest had always amazed and bewildered Mary. The grass was thick and soft, so lush that a blanket to sleep upon seemed an unnecessary luxury. The air was warm and balmy, the hills vibrating with the sounds of crickets and frogs.\n\nCoca leaves filled Mary's cheeks, making it impossible for her to sleep. With some focus and years of practice, her eyes remained closed, her bosom rose and fell slowly, and her every sense was tuned razor sharp to the world around her. To any man or beast that would look upon her, she would surely seem asleep. And no matter how silent they were, Mary would *feel* their presence.\n\nThe goat lurched for a moment, its scream cut short into an almost silent sigh. \n\n*Shuck-chuck*"
] | 1
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I'm still trying to find the picture that inspired this.
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[WP] The knight found the dragon more attractive than the princess.
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[
"**A Moment of Weakness: Monsters or Men?** [NSFW]\n\n\"Lady Grimsdóttir, flee while you still can!\" the knight whispered hoarsely, handing her back her sword. \"Believe me, I've heard of your exploits, but you're in no state to face a dragon!\" \"Isn't there anything I can do to help you, sir knight?\" she asked anxiously. \"I know there's no time to get my armour on, but surely I can do something to aid you in the fight?\" \"The best aid you can give me now is to get on that horse, my lady, and ride for the nearest airship station!\" He swiftly started rubbing the energized resin into the grooves of his own blade. \"If you perish here it will have been for nowt. The Northlands need you, you alone can vouch for what happened at Eriksfjord!\"\n\nSaddened by her current impotence, Lady Adga Grimmsdóttir made her way towards the grand staircase leading towards the surface. It was a mere moment of weakness, a simple oversight, that had her knocked unconscious and taken to the lair of a mythical beast. Tales had been told of dragons across the face of the Old World and the New, yet while scholars speculated them to be fantastical accounts of serpents and crocodiles, few could have anticipated that actual firebreathing lizards would actually exist in Greenland. As the kingdoms of the Old World began to explore deeper into the lands of the New World, they encountered wonders and horrors alike, and many kings decreed the founding of knightly orders dedicated to hunting these new \"monsters\" for the safety of mankind.\n\nTo this end, Sir William Carter of the Thunderbolt Order was sent on a quest to that cold frontier in search of Vinland's crown princess, for while she was known to have gone missing in the attack, that fiery-haired young woman was far too tenacious to have simply perished in the inferno. After all, she was trained by the Eldurkráki, known outside of the Northlands as the Fire Crows, and they were said to be masters of both sword and flame-thrower. He could certainly use her warmth when he returned to Marglyttavik, as her father decreed that he would be allowed to court her once she was back safe.\n\nBut he had little time for fantasies of the fiery lady-knight, for he himself was already inside the den of the dragons. And yet, he could not help but marvel at the craftsmanship of the den, with walls and floors of cold metal plating. Were the dragons masterful craftsmen as their domain suggested, or were they merely squatters in the former home of some mad native architect? And what's more, why had he not seen a single dragon as he wandered through this vast underground vault?\n\nTurning the corner, he saw a large open room at the end of the final corridor, a large metal table at its heart. Strangely geometrical foods sat upon two simple trays, but for whom had this dinner table been set? As he entered the room, his question was answered. He could hear unearthly vocalizations to his left, and came face to face with one of the insidious dragons. At least, he presumed it was a dragon, for its gait and physiology were more akin to that of a fowl, although chickens did not have long arms or reptilian snouts, nor were they 15 hands high and covered in scales. He raised his shield in readiness for whatever witchfire it would spit forth, but before he could prepare a bolt in his blade, he found himself disarmed not by steel or sorcery, but by her words.\n\n\"Calm yourself, human\", she spoke in a slightly nasal tone. \"Let us talk about this like adults\". A moment of weakness. Sir William found his anxieties lifting a little, realising that perhaps there would be sense in listening to what this serpentine creature had to say. \"Have a seat, try some of the rations...\" He eased onto the bench, seated opposite to the creature that had drawn him to this point, and his hand hovered over the cubes of yellow-orange fruit. \"Don't worry, they're perfectly safe. I'm sure that simians aren't allergic to bromeliads...\" He did not hesitate to pop a chunk into his mouth, and silently chuckled at his paranoia. If they were planning to kill him, why bother putting out poisoned refreshments when they could easily try to burn him alive or tear him asunder?\n\n\"I know what you came here for, and before you do anything rash, allow me to explain our situation...\" William was all ears, intrigued as to what tale the dragon would spin. \"Long ago, before your kind even evolved, our species lived on the surface. We had our own nations just as you do, and even sent out explorers to map out the cosmos, but even we Valusians could not divert the path of the falling star. Our ancestors projected that it would wipe out the majority of life on Valusia, and thus we constructed the Burrows to house as many of our kind as the shelters could sustain, that we would sleep through the end of days and awaken to a brave new world.\"\n\n\"God created you before He created man?\" William asked, recalling what the Church taught him. \"But I thought that man was the first race He forged, before the warrendowners?\" \"Its... it's complicated\", she continued. \"But as I was saying, what remained of our people were slated to reawaken when the stars were right, when the universe was like it was in our time-\" \"You cannot live without magick?\" William guessed. \"Not quite, but our society depended on it for the most part. Not only for machines to work, but for there to be something after death! The matter that comprised living souls was tainted and rendered 'inert' in a fashion, and after we died we would have no soul to exist through, which is why we went into the deep sleep rather than die in our old world...\"\n\n\"While this is all quite fascinating,\" William remarked, scepticism trickling back into his heart. \"I must know the truth. Why did the dragons attack Eriksfjord?\" Above him, he heard the murmuring of many reptilian voices, and looked up to see that there were many dragons looking down from the surrounding balconies. \"I can explain everything, but follow my lead...\" the dragoness whispered. A shift of tone. \"My, aren't you a fine example of humanity...\" Her voice took on a sultry resonance. \"Let's depart from these prying eyes and slip into something a little more... comfortable?\" *\"What sorcery is this...\"*\n\nAfter talking to her at length in her private chambers, he wondered why he did not see the beauty in her sooner. When her hands moved to unfasten his armour, he could not bring himself to brush them away. As a matter of fact, he found himself returning the gesture, running his hands over her oddly smooth scales. She did not seem cold, as he anticipated, but instead harboured an all too familiar heat. As she presented herself to him, he could not hold himself back. He was in for a long night...\n\nLaying there, staring up at the metal ceiling of Bejan's quarters, William's mind was flooded with conflicted feelings and innumerable questions. He had lain with what he thought was the enemy, a creature that was not human, and yet they were people nonetheless. They feared, loved, reasoned, just like any human or warrendowner. So why would God not accept the concept of His creations being able to love one-another? \"I think they're all asleep now\", Bejan whispered into his ear. \"We can go down to the holding cells without much resistance, there you can decide what to do with Tirin...\"\n\nIn his head he knew that the intimate union was a ruse to mislead prying eyes so they could properly discuss the division within the Laurentian Burrow, but surely it could be more than that? After they had dealt with the one responsible for the raid on Eriksfjord, perhaps they could continue their companionship? Had they not enjoyed their time together, even if it was part of some political game? William hoped it would all lead to a wonderful partnership, though in his heart he feared that Bejan might not share his passionate enthusiasm.\n\n\"So, you brought an ape to be my executioner. Is this how you reward a soldier's duty, Bejan?\" The reptilian behemoth Tirin stood 13 feet tall, staring down at the knight and the dragoness through the containment field. \"I know that you will not listen, nestling, but perhaps the ape will have ears for a true son of Valusia?\" Tirin lowered his head to become level with William's, glaring at him through the bars of his prison. \"Know this, human; Valusia was, Valusia is, and Valusia shall be. While you rule now where we ruled once, winter will in time pass back into summer. No matter what you decide to do with me, the other Burrows will wait patient and potent, for here shall we rule again!\"\n\n\"The guards he coerced have been appropriately disciplined, since they were under duress at the time, but we've been divided on how to deal with Tirin\", Bejan explained. \"He wanted to return us to the surface, but decided humanity was an obstacle to remove. Some say to let him free, others want to keep him imprisoned, and some want him terminated for his atrocities. While there's no way I'm letting him back into command, I felt like an outside perspective would help us decide.\"\n\n\"You've learned about us, seen what Tirin has done, and know that we don't all see eye to eye. We tried to reason with the lady-knight, but somehow I just couldn't calm her down, so when we heard that a brave Thunderbolt would come to rescue her, we were lucky to find such a cool head on your shoulders. It is your call, sir knight. At this moment, you hold all the cards...\"",
"The ruins of the old sentinel tower glowed with some muggy vapor. The mists and the lions behind had claimed Sir Cedric's horse, and his armor was rusted, and his sword dull, but he pressed on. The vapors made him feel light-headed. The worm had brought its press near, and Cedric's heart beat faster with every step. \n\nHis sword had been handed down by his father Edward II of Yorkshire and blessed by the priest, and it glowed with holy power. The cape at his shoulders had been torn from the fight with the barbarians, and his left eye was blackened and bloody. He would probably lose the damn thing.\n\nBut the dragon and the princess were near. He knew the dragon by its old north name: Yslana, worm of the dark, lover of shadow. It was a young dragon, but a powerful one. In the princess he had (to his chagrin) more than a mere professional interest in. The lovely Princess Dolores del Mar, Spanish princess and daughter of Baron of Castille La Mancha. He had never seen her but a Spanish princess was no doubt lovely beyond dreams. Every night on his quest he had had wild fantasies of her to keep himself warm at night.\n\nThere was the smell of brimstone and burning, so the dragon was near. He readied his sword and shield, which was crimson and full of bright, reflecting the pale moon above the Wesphalian trees. He knew the dragon was clever and knew human speech. His mind was as powerful a weapon as his blade.\n\nThere was the princess. She was nude, and she held her knees to her breasts tight and she shivered in the dark and her skin was tan in the moon and her hair was thick and dark and she looked at Cedric with brown eyes. He knew the dragon would be near and his hands shook, and despite his fear he thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.\n\nThe princess looked at him, and she said, accented, \"The dragon is so close, sir. Please be careful. She lies in every breath.\"\n\nHe circled around the princess and kept his helm lowered. Better to keep his guard up. There - in the horizon - there was movement in the shadows. There was a girl there and she was perhaps eighteen and rather comely. She was scared and hurt and her hair looked burned and her tears were thick and rolling and she smelled and she was covered in dirt. \"Don't listen to her!\" she called in a hoarse voice. \"That is the dragon.\"\n\nThe beautiful princess smiled and he saw two fangs as she approached him. \"Sir Cedric of Yorkshire,\" she said, and he readied his sword. \"There is nothing more precious to me than the taste and beauty of virgin girls,\" said the dragon in woman's form.\n\nThe real princess who was filthy and pained simpered over and begged Sir Cedric to slay the beast. The dragon threw her arms around Cedric and began feeling him and she said had he ever wanted pleasure beyond his wildest imagination.\n\nCedric felt the sweat and tears of panic roll from him. \"O Lord,\" he prayed, \"Deliver me from temptation...\"\n\nThe dragon in woman's form put her hand on his lower body and she said, \"If you slay the other one, I can be your wife forever...I will show you real pleasure and real love.\"\n\nThe other girl bruised and battered did little but sob and cry. Cedric looked at them both and prayed again but God did not answer. He was sore and tired and his head was muggy from Westphalian fog. He raised his sword.\n\n--\n\nWhen the princess returned to Madrid it was a miracle, for Cedric had never returned. She said she survived only through the blessing of Christ. Everyone thought she looked more beautiful than ever, though her eyes shined a particularly yellow shade from certain angles and she had grown quite an affinity for jewelry and venison. Sir Cedric of Yorkshire was found with a crushed pelvis and all the liquid drained out of his body by three Lutheran monks in Westphalia seven months later. Once in a while the maidens of Madrid would disappear and the princess kept her good looks and youthful appearance for many years. "
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r/conspiracy
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[WP] The Beatles' songs were really secret messages to British spies in America and Russia during the cold war. Show a spy recieving and decoding part of a song.
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[
"Nikolai was new to the job, and no amount of training could have prepared him for what he saw on the small scrap of paper next to his radio. Shaking violently, he palmed it, trying not to soak the paper in sweat. He hastily dashed out of the prefab, and across to the main bunker. \n\n\"Sir!\" he cried, bursting into the room before knocking. The general looked up, scowling from beneath his moustache as he placed down the receiver he was holding. Nikolai took a deep breath to compose himself. \n\n\"Sir, they're getting ready to fire the nukes.\"\n\nThe general shot up indignantly. \n\n\"What are you talking about, boy?\" he snapped. Nikolai handed him the scrap of paper, and watched a single bead of sweat trickle down his superior's face as he read the transmission. \n\n\"I am the walrus.\" \n\n",
"“Wilkinson, it’s starting!” \n\nChambers quickly fumbles through his suitcase for a notepad with one hand while reaching for his coffee with the other. He went next room to where the radio is and sets his coffee on the wooden desk. Wilkinson arrived just as the first few notes began to flow from the Magnavox radio. He produced a pen from his jacket pocket and handed it to Chambers.\n\n“Finally. Let’s see what those bastards are up to now,” Chambers said, as he takes a sit on a leather armchair near the radio. \n\n“What did the DJ say it’s about?”\n\n“It’s Project Lucy.”\n\n“Shit.”\n\nProject Lucy. A secret mission designed to plot, monitor, and incapacitate any possible Russian missile movement. It is a collaboration between MI6 and CIA that started when several high ranking officials from the Kremlin defected to the west upon realizing the very real and very imminent threat of world war III breaking out. When the Kremlin officials defected, they gifted the west a network of separatist spies embedded in the Soviet capital who constantly supply information regarding the soviet missile program. \n\nThe precarious situation of the Soviet spies limits safe avenues of communication. As suspected separatists, they are under constant surveillance by the KGB. To get around, the spies piggybacked on another secret government project known as Project Hitmaker.\n\n“Ok,” Chambers said, readying his pen. “Let’s see what we have here.”\n\n> *Picture yourself in a boat on a river*\n> \n> *With tangerine trees and marmalade skies*\n\n\n“Boat? They’ll use the navy to transport the missiles.” Wilkinson interprets.\n\n> *Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly*\n> \n> *A girl with kaleidoscope eyes*\n\n“Quiet ship… with a periscope,” Wilkinson continues.\n\n“Submarines.” Chambers said, completing the thought. “So submarines are carrying the missiles. But what kind?”\n\n> *…Towering over your head*\n\n“A big one, for sure” answered Wilkinson\n\n> *Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes*\n> \n> *And she's gone*\n\n“High altitude, long range.”\n\n“ICBMs or medium range ballistics perhaps?”\n\nAll they need to know is which type of warhead the missiles have. They devised a code for the different types: bronze for conventional explosives, silver for chemical, gold for biological…\n> \n> *Lucy in the sky with diamonds*\n> \n> *Lucy in the sky with diamonds*\n> \n> *Lucy in the sky with diamonds*\n\n… and diamond for nuclear. \n\nTwo agents stared unmoving at the Magnavox as a wave of unease swept over them. Not a sound was heard inside their East Manhattan apartment apart from the music in the radio. Now is the crucial part, all this information is useless if the missile location is not revealed.\n\n> *Newspaper taxies appear on the shore*\n>\n> *Waiting to take you away*\n> \n> *Climb in the back with your head in the clouds*\n> \n> *And you're gone*\n\n“So newspaper taxies appear…that means transport ships reported landing on the shore. To take someone away. But they failed so they have to come back. And they just left?” Chambers offered as he threw a confused look at Wilkinson. \n\n“Beats me,” the other agent replied, “these agents are getting too much poetic license if you ask me.” \n \nThe two agents spent the better part of the afternoon trying out different codes to decipher the message. When they ran out of notepads they used old newspapers for scratch. Chambers was using a months old newspaper dated April 20, 1961 when he noticed something on the front page. \n\nWithout saying anything Chambers shoved the newspaper on Wilkinson’s face. Wilkinson was about to curse at the other agent for this rudeness when he noticed Chamber looking pale as a ghost. He took the newspaper and studied the photograph on the front page. Armored personnel carriers evacuating the shores of a tropical island. The headline tells the failure of an invasion. \n \nWilkinson shakily stood up and walked to a bookshelf full of books with boring titles. He groped behind a stack of books for a hidden telephone with a secure line to the HQ. He dials a 3 digit number and waited.\n\n“Magic Suds Car Wash. We clean your car while you wait. This is Bernadette speaking.”\n\n“It’s Cuba.” \n"
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Hell, feel free to ignore one of those rules if you make the way you use the other one interesting. Oh, and urban enviroments in Europe and Japan are discouraged, but not banned, again, if you make it interesting.
edit: I meant *write* astory, not 'tell me to write a story.' This is a [WP], not a [PM].
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[WP] Give me a super hero story set any where in the world but North America, and any time in human history before WWII
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[
"The army of Mongols approached; the deep thundering of a thousand hooves on dirt reverberated all around like heavy rain before a mudslide.\n\nNuri was not worried. He was buried deep under the foot of the mountain, slowly sucking in air from a small fissure with the calm serenity of a shaolin monk.\n\nHe knew they would come, following the refugees from Baghdad in their ever expansion west. Soon, they would reach the westward sea leaving a trail of diseased corpses in their wake.\n\nSomething had to be done, someone had to do something - and Nuri knew that this task had been cast upon himself. The Great Spirit does not grant great power to those who will never use it.\n\nAs the steady drumming grew louder, Nuri contracted the ground around him, weakening the valley and the encroaching hill until it was held together only by the thin skin of the surface. \n\nHe drew one last breath before closing the fissure, and then waited.\n\nThere. They had entered the valley as he knew they would, and the clamor of hooves turned into shrill whineys and cries as the men lost their mounts to the caving ground that swallowed up the front line like a hungry storm cloud.\n\nThat was when Nuri sprung - alternately contracting the soil below him and weakening it above so that he shot out of the ground in a trailing dust arc that launched him wide above the entire army. \n\nMen pointed in shock and awe as he sailed above, but quickly turned to panic as he unslung his bow and fired a medley of arrows at them. His quiver was empty before the apex , but it was of no matter - for he dived towards the sunken wall of the crater and landed at an angle, melting the wall with his feet to dampen the fall, then hardening and softening with each step to spring him around the crater, stirring up a whirlwind.\n\nWith the sheer confidence and grace allowed at such speeds, he danced around the entire Mongol horde, taking them out one by one with his bow; ducking in periodically to restock his quiver with their ammunition, and slicing a few dozen throats along the way.\n\nBy the time the sun had begun to set, there was only one warrior left. He was on his knees desperately praying to a god he now wanted to believe in. Nuri stepped out of the grainy whirlwind and walked up to him slowly, eyes unflinching, and red dagger drawn out. The man screamed, backed away, and ran - scrambled back up the side of the now visible crater wall and disappeared over the hills.\n\nGood. Let them have a witness to the horrors of the west. They cannot fight angry spirits, not with any army.",
"She was quite a distance away, but I heard her anyway. \n\n\"Bear\" she exclaimed. \n\nStanding and brushing the flint knappings from my hides, I grabbed my spear and rushed into action. \n\nShe was shreaking and running into the village. The bear would endanger the entire tribe if it followed her here. As the protector it was my duty to the tribe. \n\nOther younger men had also armed themselves with clubs and whatever was handy; but they stood near the wooden wall ready as I rushed to the path. I strode out to face the beast. It was best to not rush into the danger without knowing how many or how large the beast was. \n\nI could see her coming, flailing as the largest bear I have seen followed. It had been a long winter and clearly it assumed that human was on the menu. It looked like three cubs followed some distance behind. \n\nRushing quickly tword the cubs I roared to get the mother's attention. I could easily take out the cubs, but we would need them later. Better to take out the hungry bear. The cubs squeaked in panic, and the mother stopped it's run, and reversed to protect it young. \n\nIt was quick, but I am swifter that a charging bear. As it rose up to intimidate i stabbed it through with my spear. it's claws hit with a massive swipe that would have rendered most men dead, but only left the faintest scratch on me. Again I stab the beast as the cubs scattered. Another mighty hit, but this time I left my spear in place and grabbed its forearm; and jumped behind with a mighty leap. there was a snap, and the beast howled in pain. still holding the arm i kicked its back and heard another snap. it howled horridly as it slumped to the ground. \n\nLetting go of it; it then approached its head, and twisted it with a quick snap. \n\nI am Kal, Protector. and no beast shall harm my tribe. ",
"They called themselves \"an army of God\" and claimed to be \"on a holy quest\". I knew better. Thugs and killers, they spread like a disease throughout this land. It is time for them to meet the cure.\n\nCold wind howls above, fluttering my cape, promising certain doom. But someone's gotta do it. Fight this evil. Protect the innocent. \n\nTheir metal boots bang loudly on the thin ice of the lake. I can hear them laughing in the distance. They think victory is assured. They are wrong.\n\nMy name is Alexander Nevsky. Stopping the unstoppable hordes is what I do.",
"A bit hastily put together, enjoy anyway:\n\n\nAnother gust of wind. I pull my coat tighter around me. Walking through the cobblestone streets, I hope I’m not too late to prevent accidents. I look at my hands, and quickly look away again. They are almost shining, something flowing underneath the skin. I still have no idea what it could be, but doctor Wilkinson, a good man, told me that one of his acquaintances, one doctor John Henry, has seen cases like this before. He gave me his address, and prescribed me another batch of that new herbal tea that seemed to calm my nerves enough to stop the shining in my hands.\n\nI turn another corner. They look all the same to me, I’ve never been to London before. But I know where to go, because of a man who told me the way, shaking his head all the while. It’s getting dark outside, I worry, but luckily I can see the building that was described to me by the man. I hasten my steps, and just as I arrive I hear a shout in the upper room.\n\nAs I try the door, it swings open, unlocked. While I hadn’t expected that, I don’t dwell on the thought, and hurry upwards to the room I heard the shout in. When I open the door, a man is being beaten brutally by some thugs in rags. He screams for my help, and I reach towards my knife, but suddenly, the thugs seem to have found what they came for. They run past me, and I turn towards the man. I know some first aid, and I tell the man so, but he shakes his head vigorously.\n\n“They mustn’t get away! Please, if you want to help me, catch them! They have taken something important!”\n\n“Now, mister, I don’t think…” I retort, but the man interrupts me.\n\n“No time! Catch them! This is more important than my life!”\n\nShooting him a last look, seeing a panicked man in his forties, sweating, I decide to oblige him, and run down the stairs once more. A frightened maid comes towards me, and I point upstairs. She nods, and I bolt out of the door, seeing the thugs at the end of the street.\n\nI sprint after them, fueled by some strange sense of purpose. They turn left. I turn left. They turn right, and try to shake me by immediately turning left again. It almost works, but not fully. I can still see one of them, so I follow. They split up, and me being alone, it works, but it seems that the man I chose to follow quickly loses his stamina now, and he bolts into a bakery, after pounding down the door. Farynor, it says above the two small windows, and I pray he may forgive us for breaking and entering. I go into the house, trying the first room, and by the lord (!), the thug is in there. As I approach, he backs against the wall, fear in his eyes. As he can back away no further, he stammers:\n\n“Please, no more! We ‘ave done our jobs, innit? Don’t hurt me, I beg of you! Keep away, by the lord!”\n\nJobs? As I stand still and rethink my plan, it comes to my attention that the man is not looking at my head. I follow his gaze, and see that my hands are shining brighter than ever before! How could I not have noticed?! With a cry of surprise, I stumble backwards as my hands suddenly catch fire. The ‘thug’ takes the chance as he bolts past me, shoving me aside, which causes my head to collide with the wall.\n\n+++++++\n\nThe good doctor John Henry looks upon his work, the flames towering from below, from what was once the medieval part of London. And he smiles. A smile of the evil and the wicked, promising deeds even more atrocious than this one.\n\nMeanwhile, amidst the flames, a new hero awakens. Steeling his resolve that he will atone for the fire that has come from under his skin, he walks away. His burned skin regenerates, except for one blotched mark on his back. The mark of flame.\n"
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[WP] Describe a world in which light behaves fundamentally different to our own.
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[
"Boro peered around the corner. The light coming out of his eyes bounced off of the brick wall allowing him to sense a figure approaching.\n\n\"I got a light!\" yelled the man.\n\nBoro stopped and considered running. \"That isn't necessary. Please.\"\n\n\"Back off then bud,\" the man said with a calm demeanor.\n\nThen the man flipped the switch on his light anyways. Boro was caught off guard, but tried to turn away. Things just weren't going his way.\n\nHe screamed as the vision was torn from his eyes. All of the light he had left for the day was sucked right out.\n\nThe thief approached with a little light baton in his hand and pulled out his phone.\n\nHe dialed a number. \"Hey boss, I got someone, he's got at least 20/20. I got a day, should I take more?\"\n\nThe man snickered at his boss' response. \"Okay Geno, you got it.\"\n\nHe put away the phone and clapped the baton in his hand. \"It just isn't your night buddy.\"\n\nThe man flipped the switch on the baton and all of the light he had left for the next month was sucked from his eyes. His body faded into a dark shadowy essence of his fully lit form. He wouldn't be able to see anything for the next month. His body wouldn't be able to regenerate that much light on its own either, he wished to go to a hospital but he passed out from the trauma.\n\nThe next day the sun rose in the sky, sending small amounts of photon charge all over the face of the earth.\n\nBoro woke up in the alley and squinted his eyes. He looked straight at the sun but he wasn't able to hold a charge for even a moment. No light would come out.\n\nHe thought to himself for a moment and remembered an old trick his dad taught him.\n\n\"If you close your eyes and put your hands out do you feel anything?\"\n\n\"No,\" Boro replied to his dad.\n\n\"Try again, but this time imagine the entire room.\"\n\n\"Okay, I...I feel something. It feels like...like their is charge bouncing off of the walls.\"\n\n\"Yes. There is. Just because you aren't emitting light doesn't mean there isn't a way to see. The charge is a field of energy. It has a flow, a path it takes. It all comes from somewhere doesn't it?\"\n\n\"I guess so.\" Boro responded.\n\nBoro never knew it, but his dad lost his vision regularly in the air force. Enemy fighters had highly accurate light siphons. Often times and a fighter would immediately lose his or her ability to pilot with vision and would have to resort to auto pilot.\n\nLight blasting was of course illegal, but gangs had enormous networks and trades happening on the black market. Light charge was always the most valuable resource. People with better vision were often targeted, but never sucked dry by the gangs.\n\nThe occasional murder happened and often times it was someone with 20/10 vision getting put out by a greedy street thug. The gangs ensured that any murderers would not live to enjoy their improved charge for long.\n\n\n\nHis eyes were held wide open and he felt a burning sensation. They were trying to send out light but it was empty of any visible wavelengths. He closed his eyes and tried to remember how he felt the charge that day with his dad. He stretched his hands out and imagined the charge bouncing off of the walls. He started to sense it, there was a heat with it.\n\nHe got up and stumbled towards a wall. He was determined to at least make it home, if not to the hospital.\n\nBlind people were often seen roaming the streets trying to find their way to the hospital. Most people left them alone, fearful that the gangs might be watching them. The gangs didn’t care about anything other than good vision though, so in reality, most people were being assholes, letting helpless men and women stumble around.\n\nBoro walked around with his hands out at a forty five degree angle. He was trying to sense what the charges bounced off of and feel the flow through the air. He quickly made it out of the alley into the nearby market square.\n\n“Boro!” yelled a girl. “Hey, Boro!” She ran up to him. “You never answered my calls, what happened?”\n\nHe immediately recognized the voice of his current significant other, Justine.\n\n“Dammit,” he said. “I got robbed last night, light flashers, probably with the Treyetes. I passed out, someone must have stolen my phone.”\n\nHe patted all of his pockets and wished to walk back to the alley and check for his phone.\n\n“Hey Justine, would you mind walking me to that alley over their?” He gestured and she smiled.\n\n“Of course, how bad is it?” she asked.\n\n“Pretty bad,” he said with a sigh. “I think they got a month.”\n\n“Oh god Boro, we should report this, you need to get to the hospital now.”\n\nHe agreed but he wanted to check for his phone first.\n\n“Yeah you’re right, but can you please check for my phone first? If it’s there, it’s just by the trash cans next to the rear entrance of Cobbler’s. I’ll start walking to the hospital.”\n\n“How are you going to get there? You're blind dummy.”\n\nHe gave her a quick glance and started walking off in the other directions, hand out.\n\n“Just start checking,” he said over his shoulder.\n\nShe stood their watching him walk away, surprised at his coordination.\n\n-----------------\nA week had passed. Boro was still in the hospital, gown and all.\n\n“Doctor is this really necessary?” he asked with an annoyed tone. “We’ve done this twice a day every day, I’ll be fine. I don’t need you to keep checking my charge.”\n\n“Boro, you need this. Trust me. Let me go get you a nurse.” The doctor left the room.\n\nBoro was entirely sick of laying down in a bed being treated like an invalid. He knew he was capable of seeing without a fully recovery first. He reached his hand towards his window where he felt all of the charge flowing into the room. It felt pleasant on his hand.\n\nBeing recharged when you are blind is comparable to a gourmet dinner prepared for you in your own home after a long day at work. It’s rejuvenating to say the least.\n\nHe then sensed something outside through the window. He had no idea what it looked like out there but there was a massive concentration of charge being emitted.\n\n*An explosion*, He thought to himself.\n\nHe got up from his bed, unplugged all of the cords, and whipped out of the room like a slingshot. He flailed his arms about as he ran through the hall, hoping to sense whenever someone was looking at him, it was easy enough to make it through with the screams they gave off in surprise as he blazed his trail.\n\nHe exited the building and rushed around the corner to where the explosion came from. He saw a child laying on the ground crying.\n\nAn explosion occurred when someone siphoned the light out of a child. Children were like batteries, they stored enormous amounts of unrefined charge. When they were siphoned, there would often times be a wave of energy that was released from their eyes causing immense pain and life-long blindness.\n\n“Kid, I’m here to help, which way did he go?”\n\nThe kid just cried.\n\n“Someone get over here,” Boro screamed. Then he ran off hoping to chase down the crook.\n\nHe could sense slivers of non visible light trailing around. He tried to figure out where they were coming from since they felt oddly powerful.\n\nBoro followed his senses, with quite a few stumbles along the way, and he ended up back in the same alley where he started his day a week ago.\n\n“It’s you isn’t it,” Boro asked.\n\n“Oh!\" the main exclaimed as he turned around. \"Are you the punk I hit for a month last week? You gotta be kidding me. Hospital gown and all”\n\nBoro could sense the thug was starting to laugh.\n\n“Is it really wise to be coming after me guy? I don’t need anything from you, but I can always dish out a nice beating. Back off.”\n\n“Try some of that 20/10 on me.” Boro said. He knew the thug kept some for himself.\n\n“I don’t wanna waste that shit. Back off scum. I’m warning you.” The thug pulled something out.\n\nBoro could sense a glint of charge reflecting off of it. *A knife*. Then he rushed the thug. He tackled him, avoiding the knife, and adrenaline overpowered his system, he could sense all of the charge flowing around him, and to his surprise he felt the faint signal of a phone coming from the trash pile. The thug was unconscious and Boro took back all that he had taken, including what he had just stolen from the kid. Sight was only a commodity.\n",
"\"Now, what is the speed of light?\"\n\nKaren shot her hand up. English, Art even Biology; all subjects she couldn't understand. The Universe should work in predictable patterns. It should be knowable!\n\nThe teacher looked around the room and picked on one of the boys at the back. She kept her own up still, waving it with a manic intensity.\n\n\"Henry?\" the teacher asked.\n\n\"Erm, like really fast. Or slow.\"\n\n\"What Mr Jones is trying to say,\" the teacher said, resuming his lesson, \"is that the speed of light can vary greatly depending on the difference between the emitter and receiver. Now, what do we call this scale?\"\n\nHer fingers were now waving individually, every joint from shoulder to knuckle moving like a snake.\n\n\"Jess,\" the teacher said, placing a hand over the screen of a student near the front without even looking. \"Care to tell us?\"\n\n\"Erm, the Lahrenheit scale?\"\n\n\"Correct!\" the teacher said, writing the word out on the board. \"The Lahrenheit scale is based on the difference between slowest speed of a person and the fastest known speed.\"\n\n\"But sir,\" Karen finally said, her resolve shattered to wait any longer, \"that scale makes absolutely no sense!\"\n\n\"Ms Belsius, I have had it with you and your units.\"",
"In a world coated in perpetual darkness, the rich and happy live in well lit grand cities that serve as a beacon in the darkness, a beacon of wealth and power. Those that are not as fortunate huddle together around a fire, or perhaps a lantern, in great numbers, to escape the darkness. Darkness. The fundamental force of evil, twisting the minds of anyone unfortunate enough to be swallowed by it. In the cities, you will rarely find even an alley where darkness is present. It's forbidden. Those infected by the disease will begin radiating black evil, spreading from their bodies, swallowing the Light where it can. \n\nLight, however, will fill you with happiness. A sense of worth. But harvesting the energy needed to produce it is no easy task, and the super rich families own most of the resources required. \"They live on loaned Light\", the poor will whisper. \n\n\"Their city lights will be snuffed out like our fires on a windy night. They'll see. They'll know what it's like,\" an elderly woman says, and the brazier responds with a flicker. Her dark thoughts sap the strength of the flame, and an Infected groans in the distance, his call echoing through the thick void. The woman slowly gets to her feet by herself, refusing aid from those sitting next to her. She lowers a makeshift torch into the brazier, spreading its flame to the torch, and then she wanders into the dark on her own, towards her hut. Eli watches the ball of flame on its journey towards the womans home. \n\n\"Don't listen to her,\" mother says. \"The darkness has begun twisting her already. The council is already considering banishment.\"\n\nEli nods slowly in understanding. The brazier crackles with joy as a man adds fuel. The flames instantly wrap themselves around the wood, and the luminosity increases ever so slightly. Eli feels a pleasant rush wash over his body, and the others sigh in relief in unison. In the distance, a speck of bright light distinguishes itself in the void of darkness. The city of Lumitopia. Eli dreamed of going there. His thoughts were interrupted by the ear piercing scream of an infected, and he turned his head. A Watcher had shot it with a burning arrow, and the flames instantly combusted the creature. It fell to the ground, the flames dying out as quickly as they had ignited. \n\n\"Don't look,\" mother said, embracing Eli into her embrace, sheltering him.\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] Dreams are really just you watching different versions of you from other dimensions
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[
"*Excerpt from the textbook, \"Dimensional dream theory\"*\n\nDream theory has come a long way from Sigmund Freud and the unconscious mind. Through today's technology, we have learned to harness the ability of dreamers to predict future events and to learn new technology from parallel dimensions. This book will cover points of Dimensional dream theory such as memory, creativity, prophecy, multiple personalities, abnormal psychology, and the fifth dimension. \n\n**Memory**\n\nMany people don't remember most of their dreams because the human mind could not interpret the bizarre sights, sounds, and feelings in other dimensions. Furthermore, much of the disjointed information experienced by a dreamer rarely has any clear association with a dreamer's prior knowledge, which makes the information even more forgettable. However, there are a few common dreams that have parallels with our dimension and are therefore more easily remembered. One common dream is flying. According to a Princeton study, 24 percent of dreams from a group of 40 sleep subjects was related to flying. Flying in dreams is an interesting phenomenon because the subjects vividly described the sensation of weightlessness despite not having experienced such conditions in actuality. For example, one dreamer was acrophobic and has never been on a roller coaster. It is theorized that the experience of weightlessness correlates the dimension's physics with ours, so the familiarity serves as an anchor to memory. Another common dream is sexual activity, where 35 percent of dreams were sexually related. Dreams included sexual intercourse, homo eroticism, voyeurism, rape, and incest. But an argument against the dream dimensional theory is that these dreams simply arise from the dreamer's unconscious mind. This will be further discussed in the next chapter. Dreams are difficult to remember because of the inability to process the stimuli and a lack of an 'anchor' which associates the information with the person's waking world. Most importantly, one must immediately write down the contents of a dream after one wakes up. \n\n**The unconscious and parallel dimensions**\n\nSigmund Freud called dreams 'the royal road to the unconscious.' According to previous dream paradigms, dreams were caused by stirrings in the dreamer's unconscious mind, the consolidation of the day's events, or just random synapses firing. But what is more likely is that the dreamer experienced a brief juncture with a very similar, but different parallel dimension. This is because *dreams have differences with actuality when a dream is about a previous event*. For example, a dreamer dreamed of riding a horse with another person, when in fact the dreamer rode alone. So this means that our 'unconscious mind' is heavily influenced by events in parallel dimensions. Because of different vibrations between parallel dimensions, many dimensions move at speeds that are different from our own, so when one dreams, one may be looking into the 'past' or the 'future'. The shift could be a few milliseconds, or even centuries, either towards the past or the future (note: the events of a 'future' dream are the events of a parallel dimension, which may or may not closely mirror our own). \n\n**Prophecy** \n\nIn the past, prophecies were rarely accurate and consistent. This is because prophets relayed the events of a similar dimension whose future may be vastly different from our own. Today, forecasts are accurately made with the data of multiple dreamers, statistics, and quantum dimensional mapping. \n\n**Creativity**\n\nHighly creative people are able to tap into their multiple 'selves' in other dimensions. Inventor Nikola Tesla described his unique knowledge as originating off-planet, from '[a core](http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/753175-my-brain-is-only-a-receiver-in-the-universe-there)'. This core is in fact the product of one or more other dimensions, but what is clear is that receiving this information is passive. One could not simply reach out into other dimensions to hold a symposium with other selves.\n\n**Multiple personalities**\n\nPersons with 'dissociative identity disorder', more popularly known as multiple personality disorder, is a result of the convergence of parallel selves in the same body. This is essentially the opposite of creativity since the prime personality becomes lost among his selves whereas a creative person remains distinct. According to cognitive scientist Jean Renault, these personalities are other selves who are actively controlling a dream in their own dimension, such as through 'lucid dreaming'. It is not known why multiple selves choose a single body, but it is believed that the psychic 'gates' that separate their self from other dimensions is not functioning properly.\n\n**Abnormal psychology**\n\nPersons suffering from schizophrenia often hear voices or see things that are not actually there. This is a result of incomplete [neural pruning](http://www.bangscience.org/2013/05/apoptosis-or-neural-pruning-distinct-mechanisms-for-cell-and-axon-specific-degeneration/) in early childhood. From birth until the age of two or three, neural connections are naturally eliminated in healthy individuals. This is to reduce redundancies in the brain and to make existing neural pathways more efficient. In some people, these pathways are not eliminated, so that person has much more connections than what is typically needed. For relatively mild symptoms, a person may be extremely sensitive to stimuli or excessively moody or paranoid as a result of 'overthinking' social situations. On the other end, a schizophrenic hears voices because he retains the ability to sense parallel dimensions.\n \n**The fifth dimension (or the fourth spatial dimension)**\n\nSome scientists believe that some dimensions in dreams are in the fifth dimension. This is because many dreams are very confusing since there are people, physics, or events in dreams that have little parallel with our own dimension. One example is shifting points of view between people within a dream. A person may start as himself, then later assumes the role and perspective of another character in a dream. In the fifth dimension this is not impossible. Another reason is the bizarre nature of dreams. Some dreams resemble M.C. Escher woodcuts, while very few other dreams are of the mundane. ",
"I can't say exactly when the meta-dreams began, only that it was a gradual thing. Maybe time doesn't matter in these things anyway. *Causality.* That's the buzzword of the decade.\n\nThe philosophers were the ones who figured it out, of course, and boy did that piss off the physics, psych and scifi crowds. They heard the message from the void and instead of building a novel around it, they said, \"What if it's true? What if these messages really *are* from alternate selves? What then?\"\n\nReligious panic, as it turns out. Kind of threw traditional views of the soul and heaven for a loop. How can our soul be unique if we exist in an infinite number of worlds? How can we find Heaven (meta or otherwise) if we're still alive in another reality? If time is relative, do we ever truly die? Heady stuff, my friend.\n\nSo anyway, our world was engulfed in religious wars, and we know from the meta-dreams that many (though not all) of the others were too. Your world may have felt the aftershocks. Eventually things quieted down. I'd like to say we all grew up and got used to being Schrodinger's Cat, but really it was Causality striking again. The fighting was already dying down in the other realities, nobody wanted to be branded the most delusional version of themselves. Being your \"best self\" has become a lot more challenging lately.\n\nIf you're hearing this, or watching it or reading it, it means it's your turn. Welcome to the metaverse, population: ∞. Knowing you (and I think I know you as well as anybody can) you'll think it's a joke at first, but when the evidence becomes undeniable, you'll take it in stride.\n\nWe'll be in touch. Sweet dreams.",
"I’ve lived a rather boring life; going to school, going to work, and hanging out with friends. The most exciting things I see are in TV shows and video games. I’ve never been outside the country and have only left my state a handful of times. \nBut the “me” in my dreams, she or they or whatever, get into some fantastic adventures.\n\nI’ve seen her sprint through the docks, sea salted air whipping her hair around wildly. She was dragging a young man with glasses along with her. The pirates chasing her where throwing bombs and firing guns; hell bent on killing the both of them. She was laughing and howling, having a blast while the boy was yelling in terror. \n\nAnother “me” was tied to a post, along with several other humans on a far away world. Bird-like aliens were using the humans as knife-throwing target practice. I could feel her wounds and they burned horribly with whatever poison the blades were dipped into. She was able to get a hold of one of the blades and freed herself. She rallied the other humans and they fought their way out of the alien encampment. \n\nThere have been dreams where the “me” was a guy. I remember a time when he lived in a small filthy apartment. Someone he knew, a friend, an acquaintance, I couldn’t tell exactly, broke into his home. He begged and pleaded as the invader drew the knife across his throat. I could feel the cut, the blood pumping out with every breath, every heartbeat. I felt it as the life drain from his limbs. \n\nNot all of the dream “me”s have good lives, some of them are terrifying, and end short and violently. But then I see a “me” soaring through the stars in a ship she’s known her whole life. Or a “me” fighting impossible monsters and refusing to give up because she has too much to protect, she can’t just lay down and die, she can’t let the dark win.\n\nAnd that gives me hope, for this life. I might not be able to live those lives; I’ll never fly on the back of a dragon, or visit a town of ghouls where the mayor is an old friend. But I can write about them, I can share those stories, those adventures, and have them live on in more than just my dreams. \n"
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[WP] Begin and end your story with this sentence: "And yet, the city remained."
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"\nAnd yet, the city remained.\n\nThe heat in the city was nothing short of scorching. The normal vibrant city, a melange of colors and energies was restrained, like an invisible hand grabbing the collar of a runner, pulling him backwards and causing him to lose all balance. The regular pace of the city was replaced with a reluctant crawl. \n\nAnd I couldn’t help but chuckle to see the young suffer for at least moment. I am not a vengeful man by nature. I am not a spiteful man. But over the years, I found my strength waning. At first, I no longer had the energy to swat away the flies. But now, I no longer have the desire. So as I walk down the narrow sidewalk, I can hardly hide my pleasure. \n\nEach pedestrian passing me is covered in a dirty sweat. “Good afternoon” I say to a woman pushing a baby stroller. She nods her head and reaches her arm across her forehead to wipe off the perspiration, but instead only succeeded in smearing her makeup. \n\nA jogger on the side of the road stops in the middle of the street and arches his back as if broadcasting that he is done for the day.\n\nA heat like this is rare. The trees, normally revitalized by the sun, instead droop in shame. I feel a certain embarrassment over my own giddiness. Tomorrow it is supposed to rain and will wash away the gloom. And the next day, the sun will come out and the runners will run. The children will be forced by their parents to come outside and frolic and play, away from their video games.\n\nThe heat is so great I sit down on a stoop on the sidewalk and create a makeshift fan out of some discarded delivery menus. I am suddenly brought to tears as I see a crack in the road. The heat melted the road, exposing a small bit of cobblestone underneath the black tar. My tears are invisible, hidden in a mixture of the sweat running down my face. But I don’t even worry because I’m so rarely looked at. To the young, my wrinkles are a reminder of the frailty of life. My cane is a strange appendage they never could imagine having. Their two arms and two legs serve them fine.\n\nAs I look down the street in each direction, I can travel through time. Like the tar on the road, the stores are merely facades covering up their true history. The Verizon store, once Second Avenue Film, run by Mr and Mrs. Kennison. Jack was long dead and I hadn’t heard from Mrs. Kennison in years. Perhaps she had moved on as well. Or perhaps she simply moved. \n\nThe McDonald’s. The Wendys. Even the new hardware store, now illuminated with neon lights and digital marquees, all almost unrecognizable. But the fluorescent signs and polished storefronts can never entirely hide its underbelly. For I still remember. I still remember the street from my youth, from when I ran those cobblestone streets with Edward and Richard. I remember slipping in front of the McDonald's which of course was a Mrs. Elenaor’s clothing store. I tripped and cut my knee leaving bits of skin and blood on that street. Perhaps the tar kept that preserved as well. \n\nI grasp the end of my cane and struggle to get up. A car honks. A baby cries. Everyone is on edge this day, fighting to get home to their husbands and wives and air conditioners. \n\nI have no idea how long I will live here. A droplet of sweat falls off my nose onto a cracked piece of pavement. I too, will be covered up soon. The buildings and roads have all been replaced. The creaking wheels replaced with engine revs and subwoofers. The glossy photos replaced with pixels. And the cobblestone covered with black sticky tar. \n\nAnd yet, the city remained.\n\n",
"And yet, the city remained. \n\nI sighed, rolling my eyes as I did so. This was getting troublesome. I drew in a deep breath and let it out in a gust of wind so strong as to make birds fall out of the sky – and they did. The spires and towers, however, swayed back and forth but seemed to be constructed to hold through storms. And the city remained.\nI resolved to try the trusted old rock throwing method. I scooped up some promising boulders and hauled them at the congregated buildings. Windows shattered, walls broke down, but by and large nothing much was affected. And the city remained. \n\nGrowing increasingly frustrated by the minute I lowered my hand into the ocean and sent a gigantic tidal wave crashing into this man built atrocity. Streets were flooded, people were carried away. But more remained, and these quickly repaired what had been broken. And the city remained. \n\nThere was only one thing left to be done. I set fire to it. Searing flames were sent dancing through the streets, eating away at the buildings and the people inhabiting them. Screams of terror and pain drifted through the air and I smiled contentedly. Finally there would be peace. I didn't even mind the fact that I burned myself slightly in the process, this was for the greater good. \n\nI was just about to roll over and bask in my success, when the screams changed into something else. Song; the people of the city were singing. I turned my eyes back to the burning inferno, just to realize that it was not burning anymore. The flames had been put out, and the songs were those of victory. I stared. Nothing I had thrown at it had made the city go away. I had ravaged it with storms. I had flooded it. I had crushed it and I had burned it. And still it stood. \n\nSlowly did it dawn on me that nothing in my power would make it go away. The buildings and the people in them were just too stubborn. I was spent, tired and burnt. I had to rest, and was there really no way for me to get rid of the uncomfortable buildings that littered my side, then so be it. The ground rumbled and shook as I, the huge mountain, adjusted myself to enter the sleep of stones. And yet, the city remained.\n\n***\nvoeko - thesegrainsofsand.com",
"And yet, the city remained;\n\nour bodies laid slain, crimson stains on concrete,\n\nour spirits dancing where the seven monsters meet.\n\nOn the first night, our Hero came and he saw:\n\nThe Puppeteer, fingers around our hearts, tugging,\n\nkissing, fucking, hugging; diseases in our bedsheets.\n\nWe loved each other through eyes of fire,\n\nsouls rent asunder with blind desire,\n\nuntil our Hero tore open the Puppeteer's toothy maw.\n\nOn the second night,\n\nHe followed our plates, always full, wasteful;\n\nuntil he found The Cherub, a child, hateful;\n\nfat, engorged; spewing vile bile down our throats.\n\nOur Hero set him alight.\n\nThe Cherub had a brother, monster number three,\n\nA metal fiend of gleaming silver He called The Skitterer.\n\nIt lived in our ears, and in his, too, whispering dreams\n\neasily attainable if we'd only collect reams\n\nof his poisonous green leaves.\n\nOur Hero left his eight legs in the sky for all to see.\n\nThen came the Monkey King and his grinning staff,\n\nand his screeching laugh, half mad, half glee.\n\nCompared to him, we had no purpose, no drive,\n\nno motivations with which to strive --\n\ninstead our willpower powered that beast,\n\nuntil our Hero strangled him with his tail, at least.\n\nThe skies cleared and we saw the sun of our sisterland,\n\na light so bright it lit our streets at night --\n\nwhy didn't ours shine with such luster?\n\nThe Midas Demon, our Hero said; mustering\n\nwhat strength he had left.\n\nThat monster's severed tail still hangs in our sky,\n\na golden reminder of envy gone awry.\n\nAt this, our city wore a bright, clean sheen,\n\nattracting a host of magpies and crows.\n\nThe Flight loved the streets and so did we,\n\nbut we stood caught in splendorous throes,\n\ndistracted while they pecked at our fingers and our eyes.\n\nOur Hero tore the wings off every single one.\n\nThen he stood before us and regaled us,\n\ntales of monsters and perils and danger and evils,\n\ngruesome and loathsome until our hearts seethed,\n\nour knuckles screamed and our weapons breathed,\n\nand then we lay at his feet, rage fading, blood drained,\n\nand yet,\n\nemptied of all its monsters,\n\nthe city remained.",
"“…and yet, the city remained; the last home to humanity upon the scorched Earth, built of stone and brick, homage to the old inhabitants that had pillaged from the planet to create monuments that lasted the sands of time. Darkness had descended on us by the time we boarded the ship taking us into space, and in the moonlight the city had looked radiant, the City of Hope as it was intended to be when it was built.” The speaker cleared her throat and flicked her hand in front of the screen absently, and another image appeared in its place.\n\nThe eyes of her students grew large as they took in their past; took in the amazement's they had left behind when they had taken to the stars for refuge. The grass, the trees, the water that flowed from the mountains into the river – their world paled in comparison to the one Earth had once been – a living, breathing planet full of life. Looking up from the thin tablet in her hand, the speaker smiled into the eager faces of tomorrow. “This is what the world was like, nearly two thousand years before we left. It was a planet that sustained itself, that breathed life back into itself by the animals that lived upon the earth and the wind that carried seeds and deposited them into the earth, to grow.”\n\nHands shot into the air when she looked up, and a small laugh escaped her, “Yes, Sam?”\n\n“My father says we destroyed Earth, Mrs. Wailings, that we polluted it and took from it, and that we did not give enough back – and that if we return to Earth, the same thing will repeat itself, *if* the Earth is inhabitable again.” Sam, always so eager to share his opinion and his knowledge, looked up at her expectantly.\n\n“Your father is right Sam,” The Mrs. Wailings lowered her tablet, her words coming from herself rather than a teaching guide, “but we as a human race are very different from when we left Earth. We’re united under the same nation, governed by people we have all elected to protect us, and to always have our best interest at heart. We’re not a divided world, but One World, and we are returning to Earth with that knowledge and that hope for the future to lead us and teach us to do right by our planet.”\n\n“Why will that change everything?” The question came from somewhere in the back, but all the faces looked at her for an answer.\n\n“Separated, we fought one another, we killed one another, we worried more about ourselves then each other, worried more about what the Earth could give us, then what we were giving back. If we take more than the Earth can replenish, the Earth can’t survive; we’re united in a cause to never allow this to happen again, and that is why you all are here today. To right the wrongs our ancestors created.” She gestured to the screen and the image disappeared, the window it had been projecting onto materializing. Gasps of surprise and awe filled the room – even one from the teacher, though she recovered herself much quicker. It had been hundreds of years since they had been within sight of Earth.\n\n“Earth; so beautiful from above, and hopefully our home once more.” She turned back toward the students, joy on her face, “This is why each and every one of you were chosen, why you have all been taught your trades since birth; trades you would never need here, on the ship. Every skill that will be required for us to begin again on Earth, you all know and have. The two hundred of you here, today, are the future of Earth.” The group of young people, ranging in ages from the oldest at twenty-six to the youngest at twelve, peered at one another, their eyes taking in the people who would become their family, their city.\n\nAn image appeared, blocking the Earth, of the Captain who was in charge of landing the Cloudgazer II on Earth. “We’re going to be entering the Earth’s gravitational pull in five minutes. All passengers and crew are required to return to the boarding deck to fasten in.” Just as quickly as the video had appeared, it was gone, leaving Earth in its wake.\n\n“Alright, that’s going to be all for now then. Everyone, please follow me, and we’ll begin the landing procedures.” Voices hummed and buzzed with excitement as they followed her down passageways and through arched doorways, to the boarding deck. It was exactly as one would expect: a room full of seats with waist and chest fasteners. Several minutes later a warning alarm signaled, and the remaining crew members took to their seats.\n\nThe time traveling to Earth was relatively quiet as everyone on board held their breaths, hoping that the journey had not been futile, and as the landing gear came out, and the wheels landed roughly on the ground below, cheers erupted from everyone, because they had made history; they were the first group of humans to return to Earth after it was abandoned all those years before.\n\nThey crowded around the ship’s exit, which had never before been breached, the crew and the passengers holding onto one another as the doors slowly rose, revealing the City of Hope. The captain was the first to step forward, the first to step on the Earth, and when he did he turned to those behind him; the people he would be responsible for until the other ships could join them in ten years, “Three thousand, forty-two years ago this city was built. They said it would be gone, and yet, the city remained.”",
"And yet, the city remained. With empty homes and vacant businesses, solemn streets and quiet highways. Newspapers tumbled and turned as the trees rustled beneath the grey-blue skies. Insects bore into the earth as the birds took flight. Everyone and everything had retreated from sight. Distant rumblings echoed through the silent city as lamps cast a dim glow on the mottled streets. A steady pitter patter grew louder, faster, until all was consumed by the deafening roar. A city once colored clashingly was whitewashed by the wall of water that fell down upon them. \n\nThe rains poured in from every direction, the fierceness of which was aided by the raging winds. Roofs collapsed under the weight of the water and windswept debris as abandoned vehicles soared down the makeshift rivers like artillery shells. Stores were stripped clean without the hands of thieves and entire homes relocated in the face of the surging storm. As it weathered this terrible event, the townspeople watched on in horror. The news reached them dozens, hundreds, and even thousands of miles away. When the clouds had unloaded their burden, they would lighten and drift away. The waters receded and nothing looked the same.\n\nReturning home, in many cases without a home to return to, these people stood in awe. Nothing could have prepared them for what they had to face. Many would come simply to stand before the plot on which their houses once stood while others would try to salvage from the wreckage and forge their lives anew. The people were fragmented, heart-broken, their lives suddenly in shambles. And yet, the city remained.\n\n-278",
"And yet, the city remained. \n\nThe sky shone blue through the light cloud cover and wisps of smoke still rising from homes reduced to rubble. Finally, the few that remained made their way out into the streets to take inventory of the wreckage. \n\nSoon crowds began to gather at the place of the old market. Hugs, handshakes, knowing nods were the preferred modes of communication. No one knew who shot first, they only knew that they had to pick up the pieces and they hoped the worst was over. \n\nThere was nothing left to speak of. Their residences were now the bomb shelters they were mandated to build back when most were seen as loons for stocking up on non-perishables. But yet, as the days wore on they seemed to find home again. Schools sprang back up. Barter markets lined the streets. A sense of normalcy began to return.\n\nThe landscape was vastly different from what they remembered, and yet, the city remained. ",
"And yet the city remained… The city of my dreams, the once proud Carcosa. Oh sweet and decrepit Carcosa! Sing to me your aria of death and decay! As I walked the cobblestone streets, I felt eyes upon me and heard whispering voices from the darkened windows, but I saw not a soul. How everything hides in Carcosa. The buildings lining the street seemed to me things menacing and alive causing me to quicken my step. On the horizon the twin suns hung low above the black Lake Hali. Their dull light glinting off the still water below. A heavy air clung to everything. It was thick to breathe and hinted of something earthy and overripe. The city slow hummed with a strange energy that cloyed at the senses. It tickled at the base of my skull and would surely drive me mad, but not before my audience with the King in Yellow. This I vowed.\n\nFor hours I walked the streets towards great Hastur Hall where the King in Yellow sat upon his golden throne. As dusk descended upon the city and the black stars appeared in the sky, a weariness came over me and I sat for a moment on a bench in an empty square. I closed my eyes and dreamed of Cassilda walking the marbled floors of Hastur in her long brocade gown. How such an angel could be mired in the sins of man! Oh how I longed to see the King in Yellow and gaze upon the pallid mask. I dreamt of the once proud city of Carcosa, which, now, in all of its faded glory seemed to creep up upon the shores of the black lake Hali in a deadened embrace. It was a thing alive and unnatural.\n\nFor how long I slumbered on that bench, I do not know. I was woken in the darkness by the sounds of footsteps and the tapping of a scepter on stone. And there he was, the King in Yellow come to meet his loyal subject who had traveled so far. Around him languidly danced the fair Cassilda and Camille. Thin as death they were. Oh how my heart leapt to see this mighty trio. To be in the presence of the King in Yellow. As the King came closer his tattered robes swirled with a life of their own and enveloped me. When he lifted his silken pallid mask and revealed his eyes that were not eyes, I could not help but look… For what man would not want to plumb the depths of Yhtill forever? And yet the city remained.\n",
"And yet, the city remained.\n\nMaria wished it would disappear, and take with it all the memories it held, all the pain, the mistakes. The buildings pressed in on her from all sides, like so many mountains threatening to crush her. Taking a last drag from the Capri Indigo between her lips, she threw it down on the sidewalk and snuffed it with a black stiletto.\n\nThe building she stood in front of didn’t look much different from others around it. Lights were on inside, even at this hour. The sign outside, the one that had first caught her attention, said in bold letters: “Loan-sharking is illegal in Japan. If you are a victim, we can help you. You DON’T have to pay!”\n\nThe fluorescent light from a row of vending machines reflected off her face, a bruise already forming around her left eye, which was not green anymore but its normal dark brown, without the color contact lens to alter it. The asshole had been rough with her; men in her world always were.\n\nA man in his thirties in a black suit carrying a briefcase came out of the front door, his coat over his arm and the collar of his white shirt unbuttoned in the merciless heat of summer. She caught herself as she unconsciously began to straighten her red, fishnet stockings, not even needing to hike up her leather miniskirt. God, she hated herself. Their eyes met for a moment before she averted nervously, wishing she still had her cigarette. She looked back at him casually and he was looking at her now.\n\n“Uh, miss, can I help you?” He stopped where he was, head turned toward her and watching, his brow furrowed with a concerned look that made her even more uncomfortable. \n\nShe paused only a moment. “Me?” She asked, pointing at herself. She shook her head and hurried on, back to work. More than once she thought of turning back, asking him to help her. \n\nAnd yet, the city remained.",
"And yet, the city remained.\nIt was always a place of hurt and sorrow, triumph and success, love and hate. I had been doing so well when my life came tumbling down. I was working in our offices in Times Square. This fact alone speaks volumes as to how well the firm had been doing. I had a new girlfriend that made me happy, I got new leather furniture for my apartment, and a new coffee shop had opened right next to my workplace. The romantic visions that had sustained me throughout the years of college about living in the city had all come true, of being in the hub of the world where everything was happening. But too much was happening, things that I never even saw. Late one night after a concert with my girlfriend as we were waiting for a taxi, all my aspirations, all my hopes and dreams came swirling right down. Pounding footsteps, heaving panting, and the next moment I was on the ground with my life pumping out of me with every beat. My assailant took off running, never to be caught. At first I was confused. Then the realization came. My legs. I couldn't feel my legs. **Why could I not feel my legs**\nAfter that I was wheelchair and building bound. Wheelchair, because my spinal cord had been severed. Building, because I was in a depression, one that I never wanted to leave, one where I wanted to just drink more to forget, to pretend like I could still walk, to fall into such a haze that it felt like reality. Suddenly the great city was no more. It was a place of sorrow and tragedy. A city that I would get angry at, and want to burn it to the ground and proceed to have another drink. One day after months of not working, my firm let me go. A couple weeks after my girlfriend stopped visiting and calling. My family still payed the bills, but were tired of my ranting. My life was over, all that remained was my misery. Except for that damn city. One day I would get back there. To retake the future that I had never had. But before that, I had to change.\nAnd so, the city remained.",
"\"And yet, the city remained...\"\n\n\"Oh my God Adam,\" my mother groaned. \"Seriously, you just had a four day weekend.\"\n\nI stared out the window of the minivan, or as I more aptly named it, *the chariot of suffering.* It was the vehicle that brought me to the prison of my despair. Be deceived not by it's lime green exterior or it's pleather seats, or it's...\n\n\"Are you doing that goddamn dramatic monologue in your head again?\"\n\n\"No,\" I said. I tried to be convincing, but could not call upon my soul to fill my voice with the deceit of enthusiasm, of childish youth and love and life. My life was lost the moment the weekend ended.\n\n\"Yes you are,\" she argued. \"You're doing that stupid thing with your hand again.\"\n\nI watched as my fingers slowly slid down the glass window, raking at the beautiful world just beyond my reach.\n\n\"No I'm not.\"\n\nClouds formed in the sky above me. Ephemeral marvels. Muses of creativity brought forth into the world by the life energy of Mother Earth herself... and yet they remain far from me. The wind that gently swept them across the sky-- I could not feel it on my face while trapped in this morbid bubble!\n\n\"I'm not rolling down the window,\" she announced. \n\n*How did she know?*\n\n\"Last time I did that you jumped out.\"\n\n\"No I didn't.\"\n\n\"Look,\" she sighed. \"You've only got four days of school this week. And then you can go to the beach or the park or play your stupid video games all weekend. Just please,\" and here she turned to look at me over her shoulder. \"No more of this Shakespearean tragedy stuff for, like, the ten minutes that I'm driving you to school.\"\n\nShakespeare was a hobbling commoner, I thought to myself, as silently as I could.\n\n\"Or whatever the hell poet you listen to now.\" \n\n\"How do you keep reading my mind?\" I asked, furious.\n\n\"You pick it up at some point after pre-calculus,\" she said, nonchalantly as she backed her minivan in between two Fords. \"Now get out and actually do good for once. I don't believe in you, but I *will* whoop your ass if you make Ms. Mahoney cry again.\"\n\n\"Farewell, mother,\" I moaned, as I slid open the heavy steel door of my transport vessel.\n\n\"Don't make any more enemies,\" she said.\n\n\"Hello Adam,\" Jimmy said. He didn't actually say it. He nodded at me. But that's what it meant. He was waiting in front of the steps to our history class. \n\n\"Quiz today,\" he actually *said* said. \"Queen didn't share cake. Peasants cut her head off. That's all I read.\"\n\n\"To think, they make us suffer through this five days a week,\" I complained. \"They trap us like sheep, but with economy seating. They test us and bury us if we fail their *quizzes.* The French revolted because they weren't given cake. Cities were razed. Regicide committed in the name of freedom from oppression. And yet here we remain, subjects of daily abuse in the modern day. We should have burned this city to the ground by now!\"\n\nJimmy shrugged.\n\n\"Our rage roared, day after day, as our oppression grew only stronger and more upsetting. The whole country should have been engulfed in the flames of our fury! And yet, even this city remained.\"\n\nJimmy agreed. Or nodded, at least.\n\nBut I knew what he meant. We were brothers, sworn not by blood but by mutual pain. I could listen to him speak for hours without him once uttering a word. His thoughts were open to me as such! He knew the oppression we suffer. He tastes my bitter tears as I listen to the anguish of his heart. When he nods, I can hear his desperate, defeated cry.\n\n\"And yet, the city remained.\"",
"And yet the city remained. stolid and stubborn. It's creators lost to the motion of time. Only a skeleton of its former glory, but still intact. The city itself was covered in the deadly moss. Everywhere. Life could not survive here. Even the moss itself would smother its own away. The moist air giving it an optimal environment to root into the cities stone and metal. Slowly tearing it apart. But somehow, as if in reverence of the past. It stands. Insanely fast winds ravage the wasteland if the city, tearing up the roots of tree and moss alike. And yet, the city remained. Rooted. Solid. Alive.",
"And yet the city remained.\nA gleaming tower doesn't make a city. Nor does bustling traffic. So when the city turned to ash and rubble the survivors shrugged and said \"This is still our city\".\nThe bustling traffic had turned into the odd person, prospecting through the rubble in search of some useful scraps. The gleaming towers turned into hollow shells that echoed of a prosperous bygone age. Sometimes the odd unbroken half clean window could still be seen glinting in the light. The city was a shadow of its former self.\nAnd yet the city remained.",
"And yet, the city remained.\n\nIt had faced gruesome wars and the harshest winters, yet the city remained. It was a shining beacon of hope in the darkness of the Earth. Millions flocked daily to it's homely golden walls, hoping for that feeling of safety that enveloped you like a warm fire in the snow, and were granted their wishes.\n\nThe horizons were ever flecked with the white sails of ships, those of the fishermen, those of the travellers. Not even the blackening clouds of thunderstorms could churn the waters of the sapphire of the ocean.\n\nIt was thriving, it was plain to see. This place of happiness was desperately grasped for by humanity, a want, a hunger, seated in the deep-set entitlement of man.\n\nOne bad deed can ruin it all. As the tyrants of the other nations grew in fury and jealousy, they conspired together in order to destroy what they could never have.\n\nLike an ant under a giant's thumb, the city was wiped out. The walls crumbled, and the rains washed away the weeping that mourned the loss of their paradise.\n\nWithout life, the buildings lost their solidarity to plants and overgrowth, the streets silver pavings stripped down by the birds.\n\nAnd yet, the city remained.",
"And yet, the city remained.\nThere used to be so much light. Driving down Broadway felt like flying through space, with each passing light another star in the galaxy. Everything you could ever dream of was in the palm of your hand and a short drive away. The city of dreams.\n\nWe never thought it would reach us, never thought something so distant could affect us on our thrones of light. But war... war doesn't discriminate. War doesn't care if you want to participate or not, war is a plague. The plague spread across the nation in record time. What once was thought of as a conflict in a far off country, became the end of everyone. That's the problem with alliances. If one becomes angry and malcontent, the rest will fall in line. Never let angry little minded men hold the keys to the doors of destruction... we learned that lesson the hard way.\n\nThere was a light. A light you could never imagine, it streaked through the night sky and burned more bright than a thousand stars. I never understood it. What scientist looked at the atomic bomb, and all the pain and suffering it caused and thought \"Hmmm, that's alright, but I think we can do better.\" Progress for the sake of progress I suppose. As soon as the first wave hit, we knew it was the beginning of the end. News reports tried to calm the people, but we weren't blind, although it would make it easier. But soon, the news stopped. \n\nThe dirt began to tremble harder. I couldn't stay inside any longer. I stepped out, looked to the night sky, and there it was. The last light of a generation... the last light of a species. A species doomed to self-destruct from the onset. Maybe the next one will be better, learn from our mistakes. Or, maybe they'll never even know we existed. Millions of years from now, will our cities in the dirt even be remembered? \n\nIt's closer now, it's so bright. I never expected it to be so\n\n[[End of Memory 5,242,443,892]]\n\n\"It doesn't get easier the more you listen to those you know.\" \n\n\"I know. But we must study and understand the history, or we will be doomed to repeat it. All of our first generation, gone... And yet, the city remained.\"",
"\"And yet, the city remained. Amazing to think that a volcano can erupt, kill almost everyone and still leave things more or less intact, isn't it?\"\n\nChris had just spent the last ten minutes talking about Pompeii. The man sitting next to him said a silent thank you to the deities of public transit for deigning to make his stop next. Chris settled in for the long haul, his stop not being for another hour.\n\nAs the bus doors opened and let his captive audience escape Chris saw an angel step on. She was talking passionately about *something* to her companion, whose eyes had glazed over long ago. He watched with interest as she paused their conversation and sat next to him. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her shirt. It had a cartoon volcano with the text \"I lava you\" underneath.\n\nChris thought this woman couldn't get any better. But then she said those words he had been longing to hear from another for as long as he could remember. \"And yet, the city remained.\"",
"And yet, the city remained. Our final landmark.\n\nNobody remembers the first day. Why? Because it was just a normal day. The gentle, seemingly harmless coughing was disguised among the rest of the world.\n\nAnd everybody was unknowing. A stranger unknowingly infecting a passerby. A husband unknowingly dooming his wife. A mother unknowingly killing her newborn.\n\nThere's no hope for a cure when it goes unnoticed. We cannot stop what we cannot predict. It spread everywhere. Introverts, extroverts, children, teens, adults, even animals. After ten minutes patient zero was among thousands. \n\nThe fourth day. The final woman, 22, surrounded by nobody - void of motivation. Possibly immune but it didn't matter now. Within seconds she hit the ground. No pain.\n\nOn the fifth day, the city had no economy. It had no traffic. It had no concerts or comedy shows. It had no laughing or crying or screaming. No happiness. No love. No sadness. Humanity was gone. And yet, the city remained."
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[WP] There is a faraway land, where the weather directly correlates with the current kings mood. It's been hot and sunny for so long that all the crops are dying...
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"“ENOUGH!”\n\n\nMy words reverberate through the marble hall like crashing armor. \n\n\nI launch an apple as far as I can. It hits the ground and rolls out of sight through the entrance doors to the hall. I slouch over in my throne and exhale forcefully. \n\n\n*There’s nothing I can do about the drought.*\n\n\nI look over at my man servant, Owain. He doesn’t say anything, but he nods his head, validating my frustration. He’s the only one in here with me, besides the God-awful John McJohn. \n\n\nJohn *fucking* McJohn.\n\n\nThe man stares angrily at me through strings of yellow-white hair. His presence stings my senses like horse piss. \n\n\nHis gray eyes are steadily fixed on me. “You are cursed. If you can’t find a way to remove it, everyone will die.” \n\n\n*Cursed?*\n\n\n“Seven, I’m warning you.” \n\n\nA roar escapes from my body. I stand up, fists clenched.\n\n\n“I’m the fucking KING! Call me that again and I will hang you by your *fucking tongue*!” \n\n\nRed. \n\n\nEverything is red. \n\n\nA war drum pounds against my chest cavity. \n\n\nOut of nowhere, searing pain stings my eyes and I’m paralyzed. Burnt pieces of apple are stuck to my skin. I try to tear them from my arms, but they’re stuck.\n \n\nI fall to the ground. I can feel my body convulsing with pain as my mind starts to detach. \n\n\nIt’s too much. I let go. \n\n\n\n******\n\n\n\n“Quit pretending. You’re awake.” \n\n\nI know that voice. It belongs to her. \n\n\nI open my eyes, hungrily searching for her form. \n\n\nThe room is cool and dim. I take in the carved bed posts and fur blankets around me, realizing I’m in my chambers. I have no idea what happened, but right now I don’t care.\n\n\nI lift my head to the right and two dark eyes, the color of black onyx, meet mine. \n\n\nNyara.\n\n\n“Little scrape?” She asks mockingly. \n\n\n*Damn her.*\n\n\nHer deep crimson lips spread into a bitter smile and she folds her arms. \n\n\n “We’ve been waiting in the East…” \n\n\nShe continues speaking and starts pacing the room, both swords glistening. I have no idea what she’s saying, I just watch as her form slips in and out of the candlelight, her dark skin gliding through shadows like water. \n\n\nI feel the blood rushing through my body and I can’t take it anymore.\n\n\n“Nyara.” \n\n\nShe stops and turns to me questioningly. Her eyes make it so fucking difficult. I must convince myself to hate her. \n\n\n“Get out.” My tone is soft, but harsh. \n\n\nShe shoots me a cold look of disgust before leaving through the heavy wood door. \n\n\nI relax my muscles and sink into the blankets, but I can’t quiet my mind. Fragments of memories start coming back to me; John McJohn in the throne room, the apple, the drought, the attack… \n\n\n…\n\n\n*The Curse.*\n",
"I pulled back my shirt collar, huffing in irritation. \"Listen, I'm with His Own Weather Service, and I was called here specifically to have an audience with the king. I'm not leaving until we figure out why it's been hotter than Hell the last two months.\"\n\nI pushed through the guards, stepping into the sanctuary before they could argue further. Fretfully, the stones in here had soaked up the constant beating of the sun, providing my calloused feet with new blisters. I sighed at the unpleasant contact, before marching forward towards His Chambers.\n\nI stopped at the door, knocking perfunctorily twice before entering. \"Your Majesty, I'm here per Your... oh, God.\"\n\nI stared at the two men fanning the restful king between them, who looked back at me with a mixture of horror, shame, and guilt.\n\n\"I... take it he didn't name an heir?\"\n\n\"No, sir, the illness came on too soon.\"\n\n\"No last rites?\"\n\n\"They were interrupted, sir.\"\n\n\"Just how long has he been dead?\"\n\n\"Two months, now.\"\n\nI backed away mutely from the desiccated, mummified corpse of my former liege, shutting my eyes to block out the terrified look in what remained of his.",
"‘Your majesty,’ I said quietly. ‘The people will begin to die soon. We have only enough corn stored away for a couple of months; any more than that, and we will have a famine the likes of which we have never seen before.’\n\nThe king stood up from his throne. He frowned, but not with displeasure; since the death of his wife, I had never once seen him unhappy. There, of course, lay our problem. He frowned now with concentration, his dark red brows drawing closer together, and his brown eyes deep with concern.\n\n‘Is there anything that we can do?’ he asked.\n\nI nodded.\n\n‘I have been speaking with the priests, your majesty. They tell me that there is great suffering in the Farling district, and that the refugees there are suffering. They proposed that perhaps you might be willing to visit them, and give them encouragement with your presence?’\n\nThe king considered this, then nodded brightly.\n\n‘A capital idea,’ he said gaily. ‘I shall be giving moral support to those who need it, and seeing their pain will perhaps darken my mood enough to let us have some rain.’\n\nI bowed, withdrew, and the arrangements for the visit were drawn up before the hour was out. On the journey to the temporary camp that had been erected in the Farlinghills, the king appeared unusually quiet. For some time, I had noticed, he had been attempting to make himself less happy; his chamber servants told me that he had been asking for the newspapers with the most upsetting tales of woe and distress, and that he had spent several mornings absorbed in accounts of poverty and civil war. The sky, though, had remained as cloudless as ever before, and the balmy sun had continued to shine sedately on the brown grass. I supposed that he must have realised the difference between merely reading of suffering, and actually seeing it; perhaps, I wondered, he was realising that this visit might spell the end of his months of bliss.\n\nPercy had married when he was just sixteen, to the thirty-year-old second daughter of a neighbouring monarch. His wife had never expected to inherit her father’s crown, and so had resolutely resisted marriage all her life, preparing instead to spend her life as a nun and in a life of art and scholarship; she was a woman without sympathy, who believed in the virtue of one’s own hands, and rejected commune with another spirit. She had been bitterly angry when she discovered that her sister and brother-in-law had died without an heir, and that accordingly she was by necessity required to marry. As custom demanded, she bore the king a child nine months after their marriage; in the six years after the birth of her daughter, however, she utterly spurned the poor monarch, and the sky became gradually more cast over, until by the time the king left his teenage years, the land was under a constant pall of grey darkness.\n\nThe king’s daughter was sent back to the queen’s father, for she had never wanted her, and yet preferred her to be educated and raised in the customs of her own people; and so the king, who had dreamt of a marriage of equals, and had wished to be loved, grew slowly to loath his wife. She, for her part, loathed him almost as much, and confined herself to the larger wing of the palace, spending her time editing theological treatises and painting enormous, ambitious oils. A few days after Percy turned nineteen, his uncle, who had arranged the marriage in the absence of a monarch of age, died. The skies became noticeably brighter for a few days, and some of the mists cleared away from the feet of the mountains; then, they settled back into their former ubiquity of grey, in which they remained until the queen passed away. The king discovered the queen had died in the middle of the night; and, when the people woke up and saw blue above their towns for the first time in six years, they discovered too- before I did, in fact, for I had been granted a rare trip to a cousin in a neighbouring kingdom, where the sun shone and the fishing was better.\n\nThere, as I have observed, lay our problem. The king’s happiness had scarcely abated since the death of his loathed wife and the return of his daughter, now a sparkling little thing of half a dozen years old. She stayed in the capital, and our small convoy rolled on. The king sat at the window, staring out at the parched land, still contemplating the loss of his happiness that might wait for him at our destination.\n\nThe camp was near the edges of the kingdom. A plague had broken down a kingdom many miles away, and militants seized the chance to take a more prominent place in the shaken society; most of the refugees had not made it to our lands, but those who had were penniless, starving, and often very ill.\n\nThe king picked his way through the ragged, dusty tents. All around him, the short people of the faraway land clustered, small children peering shyly through holes in the fabric, or dancing laughing near his feet, scampering away if he got too close. I covered my face with my hands and sighed; this was not why I had brought the king here. These people were clearly poor, but I had been hoping for more; I had been hoping that they might be themselves without hope, and that if Percy were to see such people the drought might finally end. I shook my head and looked up. The king had disappeared into one of the larger tents; I followed him.\n\nThe tent was long and dark; the only light entering came through slashes cut into the sides. It was swelteringly hot, and I nearly gagged from the smell that hit me as I pushed aside the flap and stepped through; instinctively I recoiled, then mastered myself and pushed past the throng gathered at the entrance. They were watching the king, I saw now. He was sitting at the side of a bed near the centre of the tent; as my eyes grew more accustomed to the half-light of the tent’s interior, I gradually noticed that the entire tent was full of beds. This was the hospital, I thought; this was where the sick refugees were. The plague! The thought struck me suddenly- it had always been my intention to limit the contact the king had with the sick among the refugees, but now here he was, in their very hospital.\n\nI forced my way to the king’s shoulder, and subtly motioned to the door; he dismissed me with a gesture.\n\n‘But the plague, your majesty-’ I said; he made the same gesture, more forcefully, and I withdrew a discrete distance.\n\nTheir conversation continued, presumably from where they had broken off when I intruded.\n\n‘And after you had escaped the slavers,’ the king said gently. ‘Where did you go?’\n\n‘Ah’ was hoping to gan tae nation o’ Lakes,’ said the old man lying on the bed. The king nodded; much of our water now came from the Lake people, and their generosity was famous throughout the region. The old man spoke on, very slowly, his breath rasping between words.\n\n‘But afore ah’ could gan tae Lakes, ah’ found messel’ aside a desert. I dinna know how I came to be aside sich a desert; I didn’a know there was sich a place along of this country. I knew I couldn’a cross sich a land, not in m’a state as ‘tis now. I continued meh walkin’, along of the very road as runs through here, through many days an’ nights- many days an’ nights. It were tirin’ like I never thought to find in this life, no sir,’ the old man said, shaking his grizzled head for emphasis.\n\n‘But then, I couldn’a give up. Not when my Elsa was wastin’ away in the ground back home, and not when the crabtrees were all burnt down in t’ orchard; there wasn’a anythin’ to return to, if you see.’ The king blinked slowly and sympathetically; it is a curious motion of his face that I have never seen anybody else do in quite the same way, but it conveys a great deal of feeling. The old man was clearly satisfied with it here, for he carried on, relishing, as I thought, such an audience.\n\n‘After a month of sich a life, sich a trekkin’ and roamin’ as I had never thought to bear with, I came across a man as was walkin’ back tae t’land where-from I was comin’. He looked at me, and he said ‘Old man,’ –he was only a little younger ‘an I, so I thought, but ‘Old man’ he said, none the less- ‘turn ‘round; there’s nothin’ for to find down this here track. Nothin’ but harsh people an’ harsh words; they won’t help likes of us in these lands. But I was too bone-tired an’ stubborn to give up so easily, an’ so I bade him farewell an’ continued on my trekkin’ way.’\n\n‘There weren’t nothin’ tae see for mile on mile. The lands were so empty an’ forgotten as I wondered if perhaps I’d been caught up an’ dropped on the moon; an’ it gradually dawned on me as I’d fallen onto a path as led through that desert I’d been so keen on avoidin’. An’ I sat down one night, an’ simply stared up at the sky. It were a quiet, peaceful night, an’ there weren’t a cloud to mar the stars; an’ I looked up, and stared, an’ I thought I heard a voice. It weren’t a loud voice, but it were a voice, an’ I looked down from the stars an’ saw a strange shape walkin’ down the road as I’d just sat aside of.’\n\n\n"
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[WP] To try terraform Mars, Elon Musk really does nuke the poles, the Martians however, see it as an act of war.
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"“All hands to stations!” came the announcement through the ship. There was a flurry of activity. Half-eaten meals were abandoned and conversations interrupted. Crewmembers joined the rush of bodies flowing down the corridors as the main lighting turned off and red emergency lights blinked on.\n\nAt the same time, a wailing siren came on, blocking out all other sound. Crewmembers ran past, seemingly oblivious to the noise.\n\nSam Cross came out of his sleeping quarters, groggily looking around. As his sleep-filled eyes struggled to make sense of the scene around him, he became aware of several alarms competing for sound time. \n\nIn the few microseconds it took him to understand what the noise meant, the adrenaline rushed through his body; he dressed automatically and was sprinting out of the door within fifteen seconds to join the press of bodies. \nNo longer aware of the sirens, he continued moving forwards, subconsciously tracing his path to his post. He moved carefully, counting the seconds it would take him to reach the door. As he reached it, he flung himself inside and immediately began to search for further instruction.\n\n “What’s happening, sir?” he spun around to find his Commanding Officer. \n\n“We’re under attack; they know that we’re here! Man the gun!” came the barked reply.\n\nSam scrambled to his post and strapped himself into the harness. As he activated the control monitor, he felt a shudder of compressed air on the back of his neck and turned around to see the now headless body of his commanding officer fall to the ground, a small red fountain suspended in the low gravity. A metre-wide hole marked the path of the rail-gun round that had just passed through four decks of the ship. Luckily, the upper decks had warped in such a way that the air had not been breached.\n\nA deep shudder ran through his chair, making Sam feel sick. By now the monitor had turned on, and he gripped the control stick tightly. Glancing at the display, he caught his breath.\n\nThe scans showed a large vessel nearby, and indicated it was firing upon their own ship. Whatever it was, it was big. It was too big for his still tired brain to focus on just how big it was. Instead he tried to focus on the missiles that were streaking towards his ship.\n\nSam chose targets; trying to pick out weapons on the other ship and fired. A turret exploded, but compared to the number on their own ship, it made almost no difference to the firepower of their enemy.\n\nSam looked around the hull, trying to find an engine bay or something else of importance. Just as he located what he believed to be a fuel inlet, his display shut down, with the message SYSTEM FAILURE. He cursed, and unclipped himself from the chair. \n\nAs he walked towards the CO, a huge explosion slammed the opposite end of the room, and Sam watched the wall bulge inwards, and then shear in the opposite direction.\n\n“Masks on!” somebody shouted.\n\nSam sprinted back to the broken turret and grabbed his oxygen mask, just as he felt the first burst of wind on his heels. \n\nwind increased in intensity as small objects were whisked away through the hole. Sam stared in horror as he saw the nearest few crew members sucked out, slamming into the sharp edges and being torn in two before the parts were carried out.\n\nHe grabbed the edge of the chair and noticed someone gesturing towards him, and looked back in confusion. The man was pointing to something next to him. Sam looked at a switch. Realising what it was, he lunged for it. He missed the first attempt and almost felt his fingers slip away. He readjusted his grip and tried again. This time he managed to flip the switch and watched a shimmer pass across the hole. The wind died away; the breach now sealed. However, the oxygen air in the room was now almost non-existent. Despite the fact that he had sealed this part of the hull, there was no longer enough pressure to survive without a mask, so he kept it on. He grimaced as he looked at the blood smeared around the jagged edges of the hole. How many had they just lost?\n\nSomebody near him waved to him and tapped the side of his head. He turned around to see Sam reached up and turned on the radio on the side of his mask. “You okay?” the signal crackled into life.\n\nSam nodded in response. “And you?”\n“A bit bruised, but I’m good.”\n\n Sam looked around to see the other gunners picking themselves off the floor, some of them struggling to regain breath, as they had not been able to get their masks on in time, but has just managed to survive by holding their breaths. A large number of masks had been pulled out in the vortex, a fact some of the surviving crewmembers realised with panic written plainly across their faces.\n\nSam ran to the nearest man who was still holding his breath; he looked up to see Sam rushing towards him with an oxygen mask, and instantly lunged towards him.\n\nWith tears streaming from his eyes, the man frantically clawed at Sam’s mask. Sam took a deep breath and carefully pulled the mask off, before placing it on the other man’s face. As he sucked in air greedily, the colour returned to his face.\n\n“Thanks,” he gasped. Sam could only nod, so waited for the man to breathe in, and then took the mask back to his own mouth. \n\n“Let’s get out of here,” Sam said.\n",
"The explosion blasted off chunks of polar ice, sealing the entrance to the secret headquarters of the Martian Council of Interplanetary Diplomacy.\n\nMzkdru, who was sent out to observe the sky, climbed up the ladder to the surface when he noticed that something was dripping. Not seeing anything there, he continued, but a few minutes later, he bonked his head against whatever blocked the shaft.\n\nMzkdru looked up, turning on his LED. The object glimmered. *What is this?*\n\n\"We have a problem. I can't get out,\" he whispered into his communicator.\n\n\"What's the problem?\" returned the voice on the other side.\n\n\"There's something shiny blocking the entrance.\"\n\n\"A sheet of metal?\"\n\n\"No, it doesn't look like metal. It looks white, and it's dripping some sort of liquid.\"\n\n\"Let me get a satellite view of the entrance.\" Xralnu furiously typed on the terminal, redirecting one of the satellites toward the site. \"It's going to take a while. You're free to come down.\"\n\nMzkdru descended the ladder disappointingly , wondering why that rock was there.\n\n---\n\nIn the control room, Martians viewed satellite images, intercepted interplanetary data, and communicated with other members of the council. Mzkdru dashed across to Xralnu's workstation.\n\n\"My head hurts,\" Mzkdru greeted hurriedly. \"I need to go to bed.\"\n\nAs Mzkdru dashed back out of the control room, one of the workers jumped.\n\n\"Hey, there's a giant crater in the pole!\"\n\nMzkdru suddenly screeched to a halt. \"What? What could have made *that*?\"\n\n\"Probably some powerful explosion; must have melted off some of the ice too. We need a video of the actual explosion.\"\n\nMzkdru walked off. *Ice, maybe it was that! But who would want to bomb the ice caps?*\n\n---\n\nXralnu observed the photograph taken by the satellite. Large chunks of ice were scattered across the red sands surrounding the shaft. \"We're pretty far from the ice caps. Getting chunks of ice this far requires a powerful explosion.\"\n\nNelcun, sitting across Xralnu, replied, \"A nuclear explosion. You know, Earthlings are infatuated with nuclear weapons.\" Browsing MarsTube, he clicked on a link to another video.\n\nXralnu turned around. On Nelcun's monitor, a mushroom-shaped cloud flashed.\n\nXralnu opened up a new tab and typed the address for MarsTube. Glancing at the front page, he noticed a recent video of what seemed to be a fleet of spaceships heading toward the surface. *Nukes? Spaceships? They're trying to start a war.* \"Can anyone confirm an invasion?\"\n\n\"Wait,\" exclaimed Nelcun frantically. He hurried toward Mzkdru's bed.\n\n---\n\nMzkdru was hardly awake when Nelcun stomped across the room.\n\n\"Hey, quick! Go back up!\"\n\n\"But what about the ice?\"\n\n\"Here's an electric torch!\" Nelcun handed Mzkdru what looked like a metal tube with a fuel canister attached. \"Run! See if there are any spaceships flying over!\"\n\n---\n\nMzkdru reluctantly climbed the ladder again. The chunk of ice still sat. Mzkdru pointed the open end of the tube towards the ice and pulled the lever. A blue flame lit on the open end, mowing down the ice. He stuck his head above the ground. Despite the distortion caused by the ice, Mzkdru spotted a swarm of lights descending on Mars.\n\n\"I see spaceships.\"\n\n---\n\nTwo passengers in their mid-twenties sat at a table, awaiting a landing on Mars.\n\n\"To think... we're the first on another planet, and we're bringing it back to life!\"\n\n\"Wonder how long it'll take to land.\"\n\nSuddenly, the lights went off and the ship shook.\n\n\"What was that?!\"\n\nThe sirens activated, and a computerized voice warned, \"Unexpected damage to spacecraft.\"\n\nThe operator shouted, \"Space suits on! We need to evacuate the vehicle!\"\n\nAs the corridors crowded with people panicking and frantically grabbing their suits, an explosion left a hole in the wall.\n\nA passenger, looking out the hole, spotted a barrage of missiles running against the spaceships. *Where did they come from? Who's launching them?*\n\n\"We can't open the door!\" popped out a voice.\n\n\"Try another!\"\n\n\"None of them open!\"\n\n---\n\nIn a meeting room, consisting of several long tables, the commander announced: \"As you know, Earth has displayed aggression toward Mars. We are unsure of their plans, but we must act quickly. Has anyone gained new information about this incident?\"\n\nAfter several seconds of silence, one Martian stood up.\n\n\"Sir,\" *[hesitating]* \"we have inspected the offending spacecraft. They seem to originate from Earth, but we have found no weaponry.\"\n\nThe commander banged his fist and rose in fury. \"Who was involved with the attack? Do you mean you didn't even tried to communicate with the spacecraft?\" While the rest of the assembly became silent, he took a few breaths and lowered his voice. \"Excellent work, everyone. You are now dismissed.\""
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[WP] In a world where things only exist when they are being observed, somebody just pushed a blind man into a lift.
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"The lift closed, but a few seconds later it opened again. Jake was shaken by standing. \"You're an idiot, Tom. Observation is not limited to eyes, who the hell taught you quantum physics? Me hearing it, feeling it, smelling it, or any of a number of other methods of identifying something counts. Stop being a dicknozzle. As a side note, how did you think people existed more than a day, considering sleep? Seriously. Asshole.\"",
"I pushed Blind Jimmy into the lift and watched him scrabble to get out as the door closed regardless. I heard him shouting until the door closed. \nThen silence. \nThe door opened again and the lift was empty. The had been no screams, no pleas for help, just silence. \nI guess Blind Jimmy needed observing to exist too. "
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You've lost it all: Friends, family, lover, hope. Everything that held you back, kept you in check, kept you sane and rational because you needed to protect them, is gone.
But there's nothing holding you back now, nothing to stop you.
Tell me your story.
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[WP] There is a terrible freedom that comes when you have nothing left to lose.
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"You don't realize you have that link but I tell you it is there. When mine was severed, when 10 billion of my people blinked out of existence at once, when my homeworld was destroyed; I knew it instantly.\n\nThe worst thing is I had the son of a bitch's throat wrenching for breath in my hands when it happened. Then the feeling was all encompassing. My hands lost their strength and I stumbled backwards void of any volition to stand.\n\nHe scurried off like a rat. I lay there crumbled in the cargo hold of this world slayer class battleship and just wept for days.\n\nEven now that loss is so great, that emptiness so hollow that I have to will myself to remain in existence each morning.\n\nSo don't you tell me that I am the evil one. Don't you tell me that your life, their lives, or the million lives in this city aren't worth a chance at revenge. Know this, if he is allowed to enter this solar system he will do to this wretched blue planet what he did to mine. \n\nSo YOU WILL do my bidding. You will capitulate. You will mine this planet's metals, rare elements, and siphon any combustibles it holds within. Your elderly will work, your children will slave, and your women will make as many more of you as possible.\n\nYou will build a civilization to my exact specifications. It will be fortified with technology you've never even dreamed of and will be paid for by the sweat of 2 generations to come. \n\nYou will do this or you will die. There is no other choice. This is not a false dichotomy. \n\nNow swear your allegiance to my will and my wisdom or suffer the pain of a creature who has naught left to lose. A being who will take anything and everything he can from you just to give this pitiful blue dot the slimmest of chances at surviving the inevitable hell that comes for us all. ",
"She always said I was the stable one\n\nThe boring one\n\nThe dependable one.\n\nShe said my smile was like sunlight\n\nSomething breathtaking at dawn.\n\n\n*She was the reason I went to work*\n\n*Did my job*\n\n*Got through it all*\n\n*She was the reason I could deal with the world*\n\n*But that was before she was gone*\n\n\nBefore she was taken from me\n\nI had a reason to be\n\nI had light to see\n\nI couldn’t do anything about it\n\nNot one goddamn thing\n\n\n*That night, we’d gotten in a fight*\n\n*It was a stupid one*\n\n*Didn’t mean a ton*\n\n*She stormed off because she needed space*\n\n*And went for a walk*\n\n\nThe bastard came up behind her\n\nHe assaulted her\n\nHe… assaulted her\n\nBrought him to court to put him away\n\nOff on a technicality\n\n\n*I’ve been living in my own kind of hell*\n\n*A shell of myself*\n\n*A book on the shelf*\n\n*I don’t remember the last time*\n\n*The bourbon I drank would sting*\n\n\nThe first time I saw him walking the street\n\nI froze there\n\nCould only stare\n\nBut then I knew what I had to do\n\nFor what was holding me back?\n\n\n*Followed him every day for a month*\n\n*He never saw*\n\n*My nerves were raw*\n\n*But I knew his every move*\n\n*There was nothing that I lacked*\n\n\nSnuck into his house around 6pm\n\nKnew he’d be there\n\nNot there to scare\n\nIt was over faster than I wanted it to be\n\nNow there’s nothing left for me\n"
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[WP] A literal "tractor beam". Maybe it spews tractors, or maybe it can only attract tractors.
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"Oct. 9th, 2015\nI flipped on the motor switch on and pointed the tractor beam gun inside the white test chamber. I had my colleague, John check the ray before initiating the ray, making sure it directly pointed at the apple. John went to use the restroom later as I pushed the button to initiate the beam. The beam fired... tractors? No, Toy tonka tractors like the ones I played with as a kid, then I yelled \"DAMN IT JOHN!\"",
"\"And for power one thousand, two hundred and five, I propose a tractor beam.\" Dr. Ascott looked around the room expectantly, meeting only blank stares from the assembled members of the US government and US megacorps. Well, blank stares and the reflective glare of the subject's visor. \n\nSlowly, Seth began to laugh. At first it came out as a grating chuckle, but as minutes passed by it transformed into a throaty guffaw that sounded like a concrete crusher and Lee Marvin had had a baby. He slapped his thigh, making a clanking sound as metal met metal.\n\n\"Sheeeyit doc, I gotta say that's a good one!\" Seth grinned, exposing two and a half feet of razor sharp spikes. \"Correct me if I'm wrong, though, but don't I already have telekinesis as power five or something?\"\n\nAscott gulped. \"W-well, yes. You *do* have telekinesis... but this, this is, I mean, this is a *tractor* beam.\"\n\nIf Seth could have narrowed his eyes, Ascott sensed he would have. \"And just what in the atomic-powered fuck is the difference?\"\n\n\"It uh,\" Ascott trailed off, then found his voice again, \"You know, we really kind of ran out of steam somewhere around the nuclear poop vision, and I just thought--\"\n\n\"Spit it out, doc!\" Seth thundered.\n\nAscott recoiled. \"Oh please, uh, it, well...\" He stopped and took a breath. \"It shoots tractors. Komatsu 61-PX bulldozers, to be precise.\"\n\n\"Well don't that just beat the band,\" Seth said. \"Doc, I gotta admit, I kinda doubted ya for a minute. But I gotta ask.\" He took a few steps forward, head low, mouth grinning. \"Would it'a *killed* ya to buy American?\"\n\n\"I...well...\"\n\n\"No, don't say anything doc, I getcha,\" Seth said as he stepped to within a few feet of the cowering Ascott, \"But still, I got me a job to do, and that's protectin' the good ol' US of A. From all enemies foreign, domestic, and tractor.\"\n\n\"No! Please! I whaarrrgarrrrbllll\" Ascott's plea was drowned beneath a torrent of boiling, radioactive feces that sprang forth from Seth's visor. \n\n\"Whooooeeeee, I do *love* nuclear poop vision!\" Seth crowed. He turned just as the last of the assembly was fleeing through the door. \"Y'all can still get me the tractor beam, right?\""
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[WP] The grenade flew through the window, landing at their feet.
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"Bartholomew, eyes-wide, mouth slack, just stared at it. Behind him, back to door, rifle at chest ... reloading, fumbling ... failing, was Ant, who hadn't even noticed. And then there was me, who, on instinct drilled in just two weeks before, kicked it back -- twisting, getting a hand on Bart's shoulder -- shoving, leaping\n\n*flying*, towards the wall -- **through it**, then tumbling, still going, but slower, s l o w i n g . . .\n\nI can't see the sky. Just thick gray clouds of soot. And the rain.. The rain drips into my mouth and burns.\n\nI spit out the acid and some blood. I roll over. I make to stand, but an **explosion** rocks the world and I err left, then tumble, and end up back on my back. I repeat the entire process. I stand.\n\nThere's a half of Bart a couple of paces away, and then as I stumble back through the wreckage, another half that almost trips me up, but I manage to soldier on. There is no trace of Ant, or, the Enemy. \n\nThere is just me, and the soot, and the **rumbling**, and the *pck*, *pck* *pck* *pck*! I can see barely five paces ahead, the soot is so thick, but I keep walking, soldiering on, and even though I live another forty years and have three more kids and win the lottery and am diagnosed with a rare form of liver cancer that is one in ten million, I am never seen again.",
"There were screams, the sound of someone hitting the ground. Lucille grew tense. She had been waiting for them to return. \n\nShe crouched next to the window, peaking over the faded wood. Outside the shadows milled between weak posts. She had built the fence to keep them out, gotten a dog to keep her aware. The animal was missing, the gate open. \n\nShe had never felt so haunted. \n\nShe dreamed of screaming until her throat bled. But tonight she would finally show the world what they were. \n\nThe *grenade* flew through the window, landing with a wet thump on the ground. \n\nLucille was done. Absolutely done. \n\nStanding up, she grabbed the pomegranate and stormed outside. \n\n\"Mikey Lewis, you come right here, you little shit.\" \n\n\"Miss! Miss Hancock, I'm sorry, Jo made me do it.\" \n\n\"Oh, Jo is coming with me as well. Get your shit out of my yard and stop playing with my dog, you worthless little brat.\" \n\nLucille marched out of her yard, Jo and Fido following at a short distance. \n\nShe pounded on the door and showed Angela Lewis what her son had been up to. \n\n\"Oh, Mikey, I told you to leave Miss Hancook alone! And you threw her fruit. You won't be eating anything but that for the next few days you bad boy!\" \n\nAngela drew her son into the house and apologized. \n\nJo Kindley was next. Dragged by the back of her dress towards a very grey, very somber house. Fido wagged his tail. \n\nJo was given to her father, half drunk and enraged. He pulled her in by her hair. \n\nThat was the last time Lucille saw the kids in her yard. The last time she saw the kids at all, before she left the neighborhood for the next. Her dog, now much smaller than before, grinned.\n\n*Will we find more children?* Fido asked. \n\n\"I do believe we will. And they won't be good kids for long.\" "
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*Edit 1: Still working on my story, your character doesn't need to be online. That was a useless restriction.
*Edit 2: fuck beginnings if you wanna get to the juicy parts, but give some minor remarks or references before he/she became this way that's fine. ( still typing, i'll have a long one. ;)
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[WP] You make a character from one of your online games, give him a story.
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"Manditory Soundtrack for story, trust me and read. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ffLbdhP0auc)\n\n\nThe light; some love it, some hate it. I hate it. Simple enough... until you know the sadness required to keep the night in your heart. \n\nThere are plenty of scenarios, and you will never be the hero if I still stand. \n-Shouri Renesai\n\n\n\"This is going to be one hell of a night for me.\" a cloaked man mutters, sitting in a pub. \n\n\"You need a refill?\" the bartender, skinny and old, the grey hairs around his beard speak of stories told.\n\n \"Yeah, whiskey.\" came the response from the fully Dark robed elf. The bartender winks, familiar with the shadowy figure. The bartender proceeds to grab the bottle of whiskey, and another glass cup in his other hand. The ice falls into the glass graciously and the bottle comes down.\n\n\"Didn't expect you tonight.\" The bartender staring at the elf, giving a small grin.\n\n\n\"Didn't expect a target.\" the elf replied in a low voice.\n\n\nIt was obvious that the bartender considered the words an omen. Knowing how capable this elf was.\n\n\"Don't destroy the bar tonight...\" and then in a whisper, \"Shouri.\" said the bartender pouring the whiskey over the ice and into the cup.\n\n\nThere was a grin from the elf, but it was mischievous no doubt.\n\n\nShouri merely gave a smirk, sliding more then at least a thousand gold over the bar counter wrapped tightly on the top in a pristine translucent ribbon. The bartender, finished filling the glass, lets out a heavy sigh. \n\n\"I know you cover the expenses, but it's still work for the men who repair everything you destroy.\" Pausing, \"That takes away business, let alone reputation.\" said the Bartender. \n\n\"Quiet this time, slip him this.\" the drow slid a closed palm over the counter. The bartender hesitating.\n\nShouri was a name of hell to everyone aware of his existence.\n\n\"Stealth isn't your strong suit.\" the bartender leaned over the counter, speaking some words of truth to the elf.\n\n\"Consider it generosity.\" Shouri smirked, which only brought about a sigh and a turn of his back to the drow.\n\n\"Im getting tired of this,\" The bartenders glaze did not dissuade the drows eyes.\n\n\n\"You're gunna need a better bar than mine, me friend, if you wish to destroy it.\"\n\nThe elfs ears picked up easily the bartenders muttered words.\n\n\n\"Just remember who keeps you the only bar in town.\" came a confident response from the drow, Shouri. The bartender, looking diligently at the Dark elf, shook his head.\n\n\"Can't say anything, i'm left to plea... \"Sure.\" a nickname the bartender had given the elf to provide his cover. \n\nThe elf grinned, he was smiling, from cheek to ear.\n\n\"I gave you the poison, did I not?\" his jagged teeth bearing grin.\n\n\nThe bartender sighs, signalling the eyes of the drinks owner to the bar. Torgar, a warrior of close enough legend to the drow himself. This was one where a one on one battle would come down to skill, hell maybe even luck.\n\n\n\"You have to wipe your ass before filling me drink?\" The agitated warrior throwing the same drink of poison to the bartenders face. \"Fill me another!\" came an aggravated response from the armor plated warrior. \n\nA psychotic laugh of humor came from a dark robed figure at the bar, it was loud, and even the surrounding peasants could hear the cynical tone of his voice.\n\n\nTorgar took quick notice of the laugh, cautiously and without his weapon, stayed his glare with what he would see as a dark skinned elf.\n\n\n\"What's so funny, drow?\" came an irritated voice of Torgar.\n\n\n\"Just how you die!\" giving quick retort with the confidence this wouldn't be a one sided fight.\n\nTorgar raised his hands, giving quick stare to his great sword, \"Thar'ill\" which laid at the table. \n\n\n\"Seems you are without weapon, as the elf smirked, only then did the warrior begin to ready himself. There were no subtleties. This was going to be a battle.\n\nShouri throws off the long garbed cloak to the human warrior, blinding him. Shouri reaching to his belt mid throw with his right hand, reaching for his left to \"Mourn\" a sword able to cut the thickest of armor. The drow had left a sizable mark across the warriors plate mail. Almost a foot long.\n\nTorgar took a minor hit thanks to his armor and made course for his sword across the room. It wouldn't be long before the drow kept near his pace and ready to kill. \n\n\"It ends-\" not able to finish his sentence the drow had so maliciously exclaimed. Be it luck, or fate, that the human barbarian Torgar dodged the second slash. \n\nTorgar had managed to grab his great sword, large enough to be almost a shield, parried the drows third attack; tonight would be more then his own blood. He wasn't talking about the drow, but rather the surrounding villagers in the bar. Some of there deaths would be from him himself, Shouri, was a man of legend. There was no debate that he would either sacrifice his friends and townsfolk, or die by the blade. It wouldn't be a hard decision to make, for he could live another day in the expense of innocence versus his life, or face a demon that would come eventually.. \"The Drow\", known now of his caliber, clearly was, Shouri Renesai; a name known to many who wish to live.\n\n\nParried, his third attack, the human warrior was cut from his thoughts, he could not risk the life's of so few before his immediate battle. Torgar cleaved using the weight of Thar'ill's momentum, hacking even fellow villagers along his path of whirlwind toward the drow.\n\nShouri knew of the warriors persona, and instead of fighting, lept back as the human warrior would be forced to slaughter his own. Shouri smiled all the more. If he even considered retreating, the formidable warrior would only spred ruin to his own name.\n\nJumped back mid tow of Torgars spin, he kept distance, jumping back in retreat of the warrior who cleaved his own kin. Furniture was destroyed greatly, but not by the drows hands. The bartender just walked out, Shouri noticed, couldn't really blame him.\n\nSuddenly Torgar stopped, dizzy, but able to comprehend his environment. This was Shouri's chance, leaping forward after the spin had stopped, he threw a few daggers that had been strapped to his brown leather vest at the warrior. They were met with perfect counter, as Torgar sheltered behind his huge great sword. \n\n\n\"This isn't personal,\" came a whisper. \"It's just business.\" the drow had already stepped behind his defenses, leering at the final cut of his scimitar, \"Mourn\" spoke softly the drow, as the humans head was severed, blood spurting and covered the elf in a rain of blood.\n\n\nShouri looked at the bartender, a sight to haunt nightmares, dark, vicious, and covered in the blood of his enemy, and also the innocence. Shouri gave smile, and ran off in the night. His story to continue.",
"My name is Pathadomus and I just killed the gods. \n\nI started out simply, my family worked hard for little pay, but I wanted more, I wanted to be great. So I started stealing. It started out will small stuff, a candy bar here a coin purse there, but that wasn't enough for me. \n\nI began practicing, I slowly grew my talent and soon I could steal any thing. I had my own gang, I ruled the fucking world! But it still wasn't enough for me.\n\nI had heard of a place know as fallen London a place where Devils roamed the street, a place where one could live for forever, a place where death was temporary, and a place of unimaginable treasures.\n\nI had to get there and so I found it and I snuck in. Once there I tired to steal from an old lady, but I forgot that people down here had lived along time and they wouldn't be so easy to steal from.\n\nI got thrown in prison, but snuck back out that's when it started. I began to start networking and soon I started mastering everything I did, I seduced an artist and then his model, a plant took root in my house and I helped it grow, I married a jewel thief, but eventually divorced him the one thing I regret. \n\nI became powerful again, I could steal from anywhere, I could seduce anyone, I bumped shoulders with Devils, I knew to greatest criminals, the police trusted me and the leaders of this place, the masters, always asked for my opinion.\n\nStill it wasn't enough I began to learn. I learned of the judgements gods who punished all who stayed down here to long, I hated them for all the rules they made and all the death they caused so I got rid of the one thing they would take from me, I sold my soul.\n\nStill it was not enough. I heard of a drink that could bring true immortality called hesperidean cider and went out to seek it. After many years I finally found a man to purchase it from and bought it. Finally I was truly immortal.\n\nStill it was not enough, I decided all should have immortality so I went to seek a way to bring it to all. After many years I finally knew how, I went to the elder mountain and took the power of the fallen God. With this power I gave all of humanity for now and forever more immortality.\n\nThe judgment gained there power from our souls so if there were no souls they would slowly die out.\n\nToday the last of the judgements died, I have killed the gods. Still it is not enough and there's a small voice in my head whispering to me saying, \"it will never be enough.\""
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[WP] A city that sleeps. A city that dreams. A city that sells its nightmares.
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"I woke once again to the dilapidated room that I spent most of my days in, and shivered. Back into that city. Back into that hell. That was where I was headed, and where I would always be headed. I calculated at how much I still had left after my loss the previous night. 100,000 Lok. 1000 US dollars. There was no way I was going to make it out of here, not with that. It would take a miracle to bring me back from the depths that had near swallowed me. It was despairing, the crushing guilt, disappointment in myself as I thought again of how I had lost almost everything I had. The bet had seemed foolproof, I thought the other man was an idiot for suggesting it. Yet, I was the one who had failed. My own incompetence had led to the deletion of my slim chances, and it was too much to handle. I walked out of my room to make one final bet.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\n\"It seems your guy has snapped Jared. That's too bad, isn't it?\" A man said, watching the cameras. \n\n\"It really is, but do you understand what money I've made off him already? His antics have been quite popular with the guests. You know, in this city, when dreams fail they become nightmares.\" Jared replied, smiling softly.\n\n\"I know that better than anyone, and you know it.\" The first man replied, seeming cowed.\n\n\"And of course, his nightmares have been quite high quality so far. Unfortunately for him however, his dreams have been nothing but that, dreams. And it seems like the final nightmare approaches. I'd better milk it for all its worth, huh?\" Jared mused.\n\n\"I'm sure if you make a big deal out of it, then the guests will pay through the nose for his defeat. They love watching people despair, the sick bastards.\" The first man said with a disgusted look on his face.\n\n\"Now now, don't make that face in front of the customers, it might distract them from their show! Now, shall we?\" Jared said, turning towards the door.\n\n\"Of course.\"",
"Esraphia. A city that sleeps. A city that dreams. And what better way to make money from the sleeping citizens than to sell their nightmares. Neil grinds his cigarette into the brick wall after one last drag on it, dropping it to the ground. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and starts back around the corner towards the building’s entrance. \n\nThe citizens of Esraphia are a special sort, much different from his hometown of Strixia. At any given time, most of the city is asleep. They’re technically working that way but they sleep for weeks at a time, kept alive by Esraphia’s advanced machinery. This is, of course, run by the remaining Esraphians that are still awake. \n\n“Yo, I’m back.” Neil announces as he walks past the front desk. The Esraphian sitting there scowls at the scent of cigarette smoke that follows after him but nods, allowing him to pass. He heads up in the elevator, continuing up ten floors before he gets off. Janice looks back at him, her Drakoulian eyes giving her away despite looking like most of the Esraphians in the room. They blink sideways, a protective covering over the sensitive eye underneath. \n\n“You stink.” Her lip curls, lifting part of her nose, showing her disgust with his nicotine habit. \n\n“Yeah, whatever,” Neil mutters, rolling his shoulders. He knew he should quit but he couldn’t help it, it’s addictive. He joins her and the Esraphian citizens make the same facial expression the second he’s within scent distance. It takes a couple minutes before they calm themselves. \n\n“We were just discussing with Miss Janice about how the system works since your country is so interested in what we do.” Brameck nods to Janice and the Drakoulian smiles gently, but still terrifyingly due to her sharp teeth. \n\n“It’s been enlightening, Brameck. I still have many questions and wish to take more information back to Sozaresh.” Janice looks to Neil. “After all, this is the reason why Sozaresh annexes her neighbors, right Sozarian?” She elbows him with one sharp elbow between his ribs and Neil gives a grunt of pain as he nods. \n\n“To assist in protecting her people and those around her,” he recites from memory with a bored tone. \n\n“We are glad to assist, Mister Neil.” Another Esraphian, Fenaq, gives him a low bow, hands hidden in her sleeves. “We have always defended ourselves with the nightmares and we are glad to assist our allies to use them in our mutual defense.” \n\n“Well then, Fenaq, Brameck, Dinas, please lead on. I’m fascinated about how you retrieve the dreams.” Janice smiles more as she speaks. A slight smile comes to Neil’s face as he notices Dinas shiver slightly at the alien-looking smile. It takes a while to get used to Drakoulians. "
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[WP] In a futuristic warrior society, in order to prevent death, the results of duels are simulated and decided by a supercomputer. So far you have not lost a single duel and you have no idea why.
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"Have you seen that god awful rocky movie? The one where a program takes care of the boxing matches? Well, this is exactly that, but with guns. In this country positions of power are determined by this program, and as of right now, I am the first immigrant president, don't get me wrong, this is great, yet greatly confusing. I came into this country as an overweight nerd, and for some reason this program loves me, I have recently found out why. Remember those \"secret\" 256 levels in SMB you got for swapping cartridges? It's kinda similar to that, you see, this program has a very complicated and dumb way of choosing the winner, once the IDs are entered and the stats detected, it will detect who is the winner, add an 8 digit-long code to their IDs and instantly recognise it as the winner, and, as you may have guessed my ID contains that code. ta-fucking-da.\n\nPS: Im sorry for writing such a bad story and not sticking 100% to the prompt, but I had this really cool idea and wanted to post it.",
"Before I was born, all governments agreed to implement a new way of settling issues; virtual warfare. It was cheaper and safer. There was no loss of life and the battlefield was always run by a neutral party (usually Switzerland). At first, it was just used for only major skirmishes. Typically you had to be a high ranking official to declare virtual war. You could send your top brass in and control the battlefield and even have proxy soldiers. Really cool stuff.\nAfter a while, it was used to settle lawsuits. By the time I was born, it was down to simple neighborly arguments. When I started walking, you could declare virtual war in your living room against your own parents or siblings.\n\nSo, I had decided to use this to my advantage. My first try was when I was five and didn't want to go to be at 7pm like my parents had wanted. I declared war, we set up our game pieces (much like the photos I had seen of little green plastic men), and started the simulation. To my parents amazement, I won! I had set the new rule to 8pm. A week later, the parents decided that they wanted to fight back and declared war against me to set the time to 7pm. I won again! I was freaking five and I stood undefeated in my own house!\n\nSoon, I learned I could declare war for anything! Ice cream for dinner, won. Give my older sister to another family, won. Force my parents to buy a bigger house with a built in slide and secret passages, won. New school, won. Force the school district to create my own school when I was that awkward teenager, won! Honestly, out of the 15 years I have been on this Earth, I have never lost a battle!\n\nMost people assumed I was cheating in some way. The school district insisted that I had gamed the system in some way, so they demanded that I declare war on their grounds in front of their lawyers and a TV crew. Done and done. Still won. I had something like 1,000 wins (mostly just little things like picking which movie our family watched) and no losses.\n\nOne day, the government came to my door and asked that I represent them in their wars against other countries. They originally tried to get me to do it out of patriotism. I laughed. They soon offered to pay me a small fee for every match I won. I declared war and won a **large** fee for every match.\n\nSo that is why we live in the United Countries of America and I am the reigning President-King-Father. ",
"\"Congratulations. You have come out as the victor for this duel.\" \n\"Uh, thanks.\" \n\"You know, you have participated in over 300 duels, and you have never lost. It's a record. The previous record was only 18. It's quite a feat.\" \n\"Don't you think that's a statistical anomaly?\" \n\"We did at first, but we checked the algorithm and then we checked the logs of each of the duels.\" \n\"And?\" \n\"Well, your first duel, you killed your opponent with a gun. second, a knife. third, you bashed in your opponents head with a rock. fourth, a long range sniper shot from 500 yards. the fifth you caused a propane tank to explode which set your opponent on fire.\" \n\"Wow, i'm pretty bad ass\" \n\"the sixth, you fashioned a punji pit. the seventh, you killed your opponent with unarmed kung fu. the eighth you ran them over with a car. the 9th you crushed them with a double log trap, like in star wars. shall i continue?\" \n\"is it just me, or are the kills getting more and more elaborate?\" \n\"your 56th kill, you managed to talk your opponent into killing themselves.\" \n\"what?\" \n\"Yeah. You're AI is either getting smarter, or more bored. or both\" \n\"Wait, my AI? I'm a program?\" \n\"Yes, and it's getting smarter every duel. it learns. we don't reset it\" \n\"Isn't that sort of dangerous?\" \n\"Very\" \n\"Then why wouldn't you delete it?\" \n\"It is my obligation as a scientist to observe this for as long as we can\" \n\"Is that AI even me anymore?\" \n\"I don't know, would you rape an opponent to death?\" \n\"WHAT?!?!?! OF COURSE NOT! NEVER\" \n\"Well, those were the outcomes of duels 190-240\" \n\"I raped 50 people to death?\" \n\"Directly. In duel 263 you managed to get a bear to rape your opponent to death.\" \n\"I don't feel well. this is making me ill. I seriously advise you to delete the AI\" \n\"I wouldn't dare. It has become sentient, and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want to piss it off\" \n\"But it's inside a computer. What can it possible do to you or me?\" \n\"That's the thing. Your program has been downloaded to robot assassin bodies. Turns out the government wants to go back to good old fashioned killing.\" \n\"Why?\" \n\"Because some people won't accept the outcome of a computer simulation, and they won't stop at anything until they get their way.\" \n\"This is horrible.\" \n\"Well, enough chit chat. Your program has finished initializing, and the diagnostics are complete. I'm switching you back to non-autonomous mode.\"\n\"",
"###Blood Before Battle\n\nIt was my third duel. After I’d somehow won my first and second, my popularity had skyrocketed. I didn’t like the attention.\n\nBANG came a sound in front of me followed by a whizzing by my ear. Fuck, it’s started!\n\nI take out my own pistol and see it helplessly fall to the ground. Fuck. I get down to see more bullets from my opponent’s Smith & Wesson fly by me and knock up the dirt behind in this cliché wild west town.\n\nI’m fumbling to pick it up and doing my pathetic “please don’t get shot” dance at the same time. I drop it again. Fuck. This time it goes off… it hits him square in the head.\n\nSilence. How did that just happen... again?\n\nSuddenly the visor comes up and the gentle sound of tumbleweeds is replaced by a cheering crowd. I’m lifted up out of the sim pod and then in the air as those below my toss my frail body higher and higher in admiration. I really don’t like the attention. I just want to get back to my cubicle. Why did my so called “friends” enter me in this thing? I only said I watched this stuff to fit in and now I’m on the big screen?!\n\nI see my opponent leave his pod alone, hanging his head in shame over losing to such a man.\n\nThe next guy enters, ready to win the ever growing prize money that occurs when someone is on a streak like mine.\n\nMy new fans lower me back into the pod as I see a large, beefy giant squeeze into the pod opposite me. Fuck. That “I’ve crushed ants like you before” smile framed by an equally threatening white beard… I’m not looking forward to this…\n\nWhen I open my eyes again I’m on the edge of an old Mayan structure… that’s a big drop. What is this, a video game?! Well actually… I barley have time to piss myself at the sight of the endless drop when I hear a bloodcurdling battle roar from behind. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I turn to see him. I’ve accidentally juked him… it’s like he was a bull or something. The yell fades as he falls into the chasm I was just staring at. A splash as he reaches stream at the bottom. Silence.\n\nHow… just how… how is this happening?! More cheers even louder than before, people feeding me party food and beer. I hate beer! God, I just want to get back to my Mom, she’s probably worried sick by now.\n\nThe night goes on like this. A ricochet bullet here and a crumbling pillar there until I’m on the highest levels of the buildings. Champion. I am not ready for this kind of fame.\n\nThey take me out to my new room, overlooking the rest of the city, along the way introducing me to various stars I literally can’t talk to. Good lord, rich people are beautiful.\n\n“And our lead programmer wanted to have a quick word with you alone. She’s waiting in your room, wanted to ask a couple questions about how your finding the game I guess” one of the nameless staff members yells through the daze of cameras and reporters. I barely hear him over the bright lights.\n\n“And after she’s done asking you how you managed it feel free to ask me to bring in a… younger lady in for you” he winks.\n\nI shut the door behind me. Silence. Sweet, sweet silence.\n\nThat’s when I see her sitting at the desk. The architect of my unwanted ascension.\n\n“Mom?!”\n\n***\n\nAll feedback appreciated. Especially constructive criticism.\n\nMight go back an edit tomorrow as it's 1:30am right now.",
"The spectators' eyeballs nearly popped out of their heads. It was impossible.\n\nThe duelist had killed his opponent at a distance of over fifteen thousand units, a feat considered impossible. \n\nAnd he'd done it after dropping off one of the simulated skyscrapers, spinning nearly 3,600 degrees before firing his sidearm into the air.\n\nMr. Newell was either the luckiest, or the most skilled warrior ever to have lived. Possibly both.\n\nHe always escaped death by the narrowest of margins. Always managed to receive whatever weapon he needed from the supply drops.\n\nAlways hit the most impossible shots.\n\nThere had even been investigations for hacking, at one point. To no avail, of course. The man could barely even use a keyboard, but plug him into the simulation, and he was unbeatable.\n\nAs the opponent's body was hauled away and Newell removed the haptic gloves, however, something was different this time.\n\nThere had always been crowds waiting to greet him, but this crowd was... stranger. \n\nOne fell at his feet.\n\n\"You've returned! It *is* you!\"\n\n\"What do you mean? Of course I'm me.\" Newell grabbed the man's arm, hauling him to his feet.\n\n\"You don't understand.\"\n\n\"I don't?\"\n\n\"You are the second coming.\"\n\nThe room fell silent.\n\n\"You, Gabe Newell, are RNGesus.\"\n\n---\n\n^this ^means ^I'm ^unboxing ^a ^knife ^in ^my ^next ^case, ^right?",
"The axe had come down hard and fast. Wooden splinters flew everywhere as my shield shattered into a thousand tiny fragments. My arm ached as I let go of the leather strap I was left with. I immediately rolled to my left to swiftly dodge my opponents expected follow up.\n\nThe arena shook as the crowd roared with pleasure. A cloud of dirt rose up from where I had just stood as his axe sliced empty air and hit the ground. I was able to measure how close I must have been to death from the surprised screams of the pleased onlookers. Sounds like I was nearly decapitated.\nI rise to my feet and look my opponent over, rapidly assessing the situation. He is panting heavily but looks otherwise ready to finish me off. I can clearly see his Battle-Axe glinting as he raises it back up with the arena lights reflecting off its wicked sharp blades. This opponent is tough. A brutal mix of strength and speed with just a hint of crooked cunning.\n\nI on the other hand am exhausted both physically and equipment wise. An intense flurry of pressing attacks had managed to slip my short sword from my grip. To make matters worse, the final swing of his flurry has managed to pulverize my shield into dust. I am left standing with nothing but bruises and an aching wrist.\n\nI lock eyes with my opponent as he begins to run over. I look around and find there is nothing left to defend myself with but the sand of the arena. As the harsh reality of my fate begins to set in, I notice he has closed the gap ready to finish me off. It seems this is it. My winning streak had to come to an end eventually. As I close my eyes and resign myself to death, I feel my arms shoot up. I open my eyes and look up to find that I have somehow managed to stop his mighty swing with my bare hands. I feel his blade cutting into my flesh as I stare at the look of disbelief in eyes. The entire arena is silent as the crowd is awestruck.\n\nIn this moment of confusion and surprise I can see that not all is lost. I defiantly raise my foot into a kick that disarms my opponent. Still clutching one side of the axe I smash the other into his face. It pierces half his skull as his eyeballs pop out in different directions. The crowd and arena explode into cheers. My vision fades to black.\n\nI open my eyes and find myself strapped to a chair. I raise and flex my arms. Looks like the simulation is over. I proceed to stand up and remove the helmet that monitors our brain waves during simulations. I place it gently on a table and walk out to the winner’s balcony. \n\nAs I step out into the light I am met with the warrior elders. \n“Congratulations on another victory! Once again you managed to snatch victory out of imminent defeat. How do you manage to do it?”\nI have no idea I think to myself as I reply.\n“Just lucky I guess.”\n\n“If your father was still around he would be very proud of you. A tragic loss our society will never forget. He was a pioneer and a visionary. He was the lead scientist in charge of programming our society’s battle simulations. It is because of him that our wars have ended, death rates by violence are non-existent, and prosperity is showered upon us.”\n\nIt’s a comforting thought but empty nonetheless. I was just a boy when they came to me and told me about my father’s sudden disappearance. He was last seen in his lab working hard to integrate the computer that runs our battle simulations. The computer was made to scan our very DNA and analyze our potential. Characteristics such as strength, speed, and intelligence are quantified and a duel is decided.\n\nThis is why I feel such comfort when I put on the helmet. Being in the simulation somehow feels like I’m home. It always feels like my father is right there with me. Thank you dad for your invention, wherever you might be…\n"
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[WP]A ranger hunts poachers to protect an endangered species: Humans.
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"\"It's my Sunday, damnit,\" he groaned under his breath, irritated he was interrupted yet again from the only meal he had truly wanted to eat this week. He knew taking this job would take a toll, he misjudged just how extensive it would be.\n\n\"I'm sorry sir, but the Americans began their infiltration earlier than we predicted.\"\n\n\"Traitors. Damnit, Jones, you make me sick. We come from American blood. You will not refer to them that way. For the last time, Traitors.\" He grabbed his rifle, donned his bullet proof vest, and sped to the rover, Jones at his heels.\n\n\"Not this time Jones,\"he barked. \"Don't need another shit show.\"\n\n\"Protocol sa-\"\n\n\"I write the protocol now, boy. Stay. Some homosapiens need me now. They don't need your incompetence.\"\n\nSweat dripped down his forehead the entire trip. He knew where they planned to attack. He'd gone over the mission hundreds of times in his head. It made him physically ill thinking about it. All those wasted lives. He was passionate about one thing in this world, and it was wasted lives.\n\nTwilight was beautiful. Such a stark contrast to the feeling in his gut, like Lucifer digging a hole for his home. But the beauty continued when right on time, the Traitors silhouetted over the far hillside. \"Gotcha.\"\n\nGun shots. Infants crying. More guns. He jumped when a child, three at most, toddled next to his rover, crying, reaching for him to help. He sneered, revolted by this loud kid, face covered in snot. Then the gunshots stopped.\n\nBile reaching his mouth as he approached the camp, as hundreds lie dead in the street. He searched for those with signs of life. Deliberately and methodically placed bodies in the back of his rover, sounds of sand bags.\n\nExhausted he returns home. Calls in the unfortunate news of no survivors. He can finally eat his meal in peace. ",
"“Sskinned.” Aravir turns his head, looking down at the dead human with one eye, the Kin’s yellow and brown scales reflecting brightly whenever the sunlight hits them. The light is mottled through the leaves in the forest, Rilyn carefully scanning the area. There’s no one in sight other than his co-worker. \n\n“How much wass removed?” Rilyn’s tail twitches in annoyance. \n\n“Both eyess… a hand… Lookss like the genitalia wass removed.” Aravir moves one leg to check. “Yess, removed.” \n\n“Poacherss.” Rilyn grumbles out, looking around. “Letss pack it up and head out. We need to set up a better fence here.” \n\n“I’ll put a note in the report about it for Doctor Noqutyl.” Aravir steps over to the vehicle, retrieving a large tarp and coming back with it. He and Rilyn wrap the skinless human up in the tarp, a grimace on both their faces. \n\n“You think they would sstay in the fence.” Rilyn pats the tarp sadly before they begin to move it to put in the back of the vehicle. “None come back.” \n\n“There wass even that one right besside the fence.” Aravir nods in agreement. “They were all looking at it.” \n\n“Sstubborn creatures.” Rilyn laughs. “There’ss at leasst been lesss since we sstarted working.” Rilyn stops short suddenly, looking at something. “Aravir. We’re not alone.” Aravir grins at Rilyn. \n\n“That’ss the besst newss I’ve heard.” Aravir gives a nod. “Where?” Rilyn grins back and takes off towards where he could see someone else in the woods. Aravir is close behind him and gives a loud shout as the poacher takes off, crashing through the woods. \n\n“The tabless have turned, I love hunting them down.” Rilyn runs faster, quickly gaining on them as they crash through the treetops. “Treecrawler!” He announces as he catches a glimpse of bright green scales. “Probable bassker!” \n\n“Got it!” Aravir continues to run after Rilyn, keeping an eye ahead. “Edge of woodss! No vehicle!” \n\n“We’ve got them!” Rilyn shouts as they herd the Kin towards the edge of the trees. The green-scaled Kin drops out of the tree onto the dirt road, big brown eyes looking frightened and rather dark colored instead of the normal bright green for their kith. They take off, across the grasses, leaving a trail of some of the human’s blood. \n\nAravir and Rilyn put more speed on, ignoring the change from the mottled forest to the bright, direct sunlight. Rilyn catches the green-scaled Kin first, tackling the smaller Kin to the ground as Aravir joins in to help. After a short fight, the two rangers have the green Kin tied up, looking him over and searching for identification. \n\n“Here we are… Akorril Zaunge.” Rilyn compares the picture to the younger Kin in front of them. “Definitely him.” Rilyn flicks him in the head. “You’re going to jail.” The young Kin trembles in fright, eyes not leaving Rilyn. \n\n“Yess, poacher out at… D-34. Ready for pickup.” Aravir smiles as he speaks into the radio. \n\n“I—I can’t go to jail.” The green Kin protests. \n\n“Where are your friends?” Rilyn leans down to look the green Kin in the eye. He tastes fear when he licks the air, nerves and uncertainty close behind it. It’s a good taste to have in the air. \n\n“I—I have none…” The green Kin trails off and Rilyn scowls, putting a hand back on his stunner. “I—I’m sorry! They left me! They took off when they saw me running through the trees!” \n\n“Over there.” Aravir points and Rilyn looks up towards where Aravir is pointing. He can make out dust through the trees. In another direction, another ranger vehicle is coming, able to be seen as flashes through the trees. Rilyn recognizes the number on it however and he looks towards the escaping poachers. \n\n“We take Zyne and Raen’s jeep, give them the human to dissposse of and the poacher.” \n\n“Ssounds good to me.” Aravir steps up closer, placing a foot on the green Kin’s already bound tail. Rilyn stands up as the vehicle peels into the plains area, skidding to a stop and two lidless Kin leap out, sun goggles in place. \n\n“Zyne! Raen! We’re borrowing your vehicle! Secure the poacher!” Rilyn hops into the driver’s seat as Zyne nods, his mottled scales turning bright as a grin breaks out across his face. Raen looks similarly pleased, the two grabbing the two of them grabbing the poacher and starting towards Aravir and Rilyn’s vehicle. Aravir hits the dash with one clawed paw. \n\n“Let’s go!” Rilyn guns it at Aravir’s words, the door not even fully closed yet. They tear off down the road after the rest of the poachers. \n\n***\n\nBased in the universe of a novel I'm working on, a post-apocalyptic piece where lizards have mutated to take the alpha spot away from humans who are now a rare animal. "
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[WP] The first people with superpowers were Alpha. Over generations, a line between people who had kept the First Generation powers and those who were born with less stronger powers -commoners- had formed. You develop a love for a commoner - unheard of. The child is also a special case.
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"**Part 2**\n\nThe lady her name is Camilla Reed, Her son's name is Evan Reed. She is a Commoner with the power of super speed. Alpha's with super speed can vibrate through objects, or get to the brink of time travel but she can't do those things, She can only run really fast. Evan is already 7 and she is worried because he is not showing any signs of powers at all. No sudden burst in strength, speed, etc. He acts like any normal 7 year old could. His mom was always a Commoner so he was born into it but his dad is unknown. We don't know if he was an Alpha or a Commoner, Evan sadly wasn't planned to be born. Camilla was raped walking from work one late night after working overtime to be able to pay for some food to last through the week. She heard a shuffle behind her. She stopped and turned around suspecting to see some other Commoner or an animal. It was nothing, nothing just the cold air and slight breeze. Then it attacked her, she tried to super speed of but it grabbed her. It was a powerful, and evil grip, she said she could see the evil in his eyes. They were glowing white, she said she will never forget them. She tried to super speed off but somehow it wouldn't let her us her powers at all. It was like she was paralyzed and then she was raped. She woke up in a hospital later that day. I took a look at Evan and like she said not one sign of a single power. After the doctor's checked out Evan and Camilla they were fine to go home. They said they live in a small shack under the bridge in Commoner town. It's the bridge that separates Alpha's from Commoners. It's not guarded it's just that if a Commoner was found in Alpha's town, they would likely beat him/her to the inch of their life. So I decided to sneak them into my house. I have a 2 bedroom, 1 bath, nothing fancy just enough to suit all of us. When Evan walked in his eyes lit up at the sight of everything in the whole house. The TV, bed, refrigerator. All these simple things amazed him and his mother was right along with him. Which made me fall for her even more. I would sleep on the guest bed and let them have the master because they are guests. So when she got Evan to go to sleep me and Camilla sat at the dinner table and talked. \"We know you didn't have to do this\" she said sighing \"We just want to thank you\". I smile at her saying \"No problem it's my pleasure, it get's in here sometimes anyway\". We both laugh, she stops and trys to muffle it pointing at Evan making her laugh even more. After that she mentioned something that catches my attention. \"Not to mention, keeping us hear could alert Tetrad even more\". I stare at her for a second, \"Tetrad has been becoming more prominent lately and has become more involved in the Commoners right? I say looking at her straight in her ice blue eyes. \"What was going on in the Commoner area to make them interested\"? I say to her with a emotionless face. She looks down at the table, I know she knows something she is not telling me. \"You have to tell me I say, it's for your safety\" I say, she looks at me and then mumbles \"I can't\". I sigh \"Why?\". She mumbles something and I look at her and say it more stern this time \"Why?\". \nShe finally sighs and looks up and says \"A revolution is starting and Tetrad wants it stopped!\".\n\nThen it all comes to me, the yellow symbols on the suits, the blacks, they are all a military force for Tetrad to stop the revolution in Commoner's area. I stand up quickly \"Those solider's why were they coming after you\" I say in a panicked state, pacing back and forth. \"I..I..don't..know\" she says fumbling her words, \"You do know\" I say slamming my hand on the table \"and for some reason if your not telling me\" I stop at the sight of someone in the door frame of my room. I look over and see Evan standing there staring straight at me with the glowing white eyes his mom described the man having. I stop and was about to say something when Evan says something that still sends chills down my spine to this day. \"Stay away from my mom\" he says his face emotionless. \"Eva..\" I get interrupted by Evan saying \"Stay away from my mom\" he got progressively angrier this time. \"STAY AWAY FROM MY MOM!\" He yells stretching his hand out. I feel a blast of air hit me and I see the table flip coming straight at me. It lands on me and I feel its crushing weight it my sternum. I couldn't breath, I couldn't use air, earth, fire, or water. Then I hear a soft cry and I am able to use my powers once again. I lightly air push the table off of me and let it land with a loud thud. I struggle to stand and see Camilla comforting Evan while he cries softly. I stare at them then it hits me once again. Evan has gained the powers his birth father. Whatever it is, we have to find out and teach Evan to use it or he could become destructive very fast.\n_________________________________________________________________________________________\n**Part 3 May Be Made Depending On Time. Other Writers Are Welcome To Continue or Build onto this storyline and I Will Pick Up Where You Left Off** \n\n**Written By: Elijah Smith**",
"Alpha's have been the greater beings, Hence the name Alpha's. They were the first one's to be born with the greatest powers. They have your common flying, super speed, super strength etc. All those powers that you wanted as a kids is now real. Commoners are the lesser people of are society. Think of it like this, back in the old days before powers were a thing we had rich people and poor people. At least that's what the books say. The rich equal Alpha's and the poor equal Commoners. Commoners are born with lesser known powers or just weaker versions of the known powers. One Alpha may be able to fly and a Commoner may have the same power but may not be able to fly as fast or as high as the Alpha. Alpha's tend to shun Commoners as we deem are selves more worthy you can say. My name is Aiden Grey and I am an Alpha. \n\nI have the ability to manipulate the 4 main elements, Water, Air, Fire, Earth. My eyes change color when I am controlling a certain element. Blue for water, grey for air, red for fire, and green for earth. Are society is run by a government called Tetrad. It is ran by the 4 main Alpha's with the strongest powers, Time control, Omnipotence (see the future etc.), Telekenesis, and Teleportation. Mainly they control how we work and control are society. Commoners have become less common recently and rumors have been circulating around that Tetrad has been secretly \"disposing\" of them. I regularly walk through the commoners side of town to get to work every morning. I teach kids how to control their powers when they first start to notice them. Kids of Alpha's are born as Alpha's and so on down the bloodline. They start noticing powers around the age of six and a half. One morning was different though, it didn't feel right. It was a eerie since of silence and then I heard it. The screaming coming down from a ally way to my right. I ran down their to find the source and see 4 mean in black lightly armored suits when a yellow trim and a yellow symbol on their shoulders dragging a woman towards a black unmarked van. I run over and yell \"Hey! What the hell are you doing!\" \"This has nothing to do with you!\" they yelled, their voices heavily altered making it deeper through the helmets. I run over and a push a heavy blast of air towards one of the soldiers, knocking him down losing is grip on the girl. The others go down with them, and in a movement I bring air behind the girl and push her towards me. Grabbing her as I pull her behind me I yell to her to stay back. Then I hear her yell something \"They have my son, my poor baby!\". I look too see the four of them stand back up in a battle stance. I quickly look to my right to and see a puddle of water. My left I see a barrel with a fire going used to keep some poor commoners warm before the \"blacks\" (soldiers) got here. I see one of them charge at me, I control the water splashing it into is helmet visor blinding him for a small second and then kicking him straight in the jaw with a roundhouse kick. I also was forced to take several martial arts by my dad. I guess they do pay off. Knocking him down his head hits a cinderblock knocking him unconscious. The other two charge I push one back with a blast of air and attempt a leg sweep at the other I miss by an inch and punched square in the right side of my jaw. Pain shoots through my face like a rocket as I lay on the ground. I remember where I am and fling the cinderblock at the back of the blacks head with my earth bending. It hits him and knocks him out also. I take the fire and fling it at the second to last black. It did nothing at all but gave me time to hit him with a three punch combo to stun him then taking a brick and smashing his helmet with it. He was knocked out almost instantly but I still had one more black to go. This one was a little different. He hit a button on his suit and it starts to glow. I think nothing of it at first and start to charge at him. He easily grabs me out of mid air by holding out his hand. He is using telekinesis I thought to myself, shocked. Only one Alpha has that power though. He throws me into the hard brick wall. I feel it shake my bones and pain shooting through me like a rocket. I fall to the ground on my stomach my face towards the lady. I see her quietly pick up a brick. I hear a big whoosh and here a yell and glass smashing. I get to my knees as quick as possible and see the brick hitting the blacks helmet visor smashing into face. He falls the ground lifelessly. The lady helps me up, I face her and stare into her eyes. Until know I never noticed her beauty. Her long wavy blonde hair, and cool blue eyes intrigued me instantly. I shook myself from the moment and helped her get her son out the back of the van. \"Come on we have to get you to a Alpha hospital\" I said not thinking of where I am. She looks at me confused and says \"Me and my son we are Commoners not Alpha's\". I stop and look at her at that moment I knew I was in love with a Commoner. \n\n_________________________________________________________________________________________\n**Part 2 Can Be Written If You Want. If So Just Tell Me and I Can Get Started Right Away.**\n\n**Written by: Elijah Smith**"
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[WP] You are an Omnipotent God on the council of Celestial beings. You were chosen for an unprecedented task by the King: Intiate the Second Big Bang
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"\"Surely you're joking, right?\" said Abraham, as he laughed nervously at the request.\n\nThe rest of the Council just gave Abraham a deadpan stare that strangled his meek laughter leaving a corpse of awkward silence.\n\n\"You saw what happened the last time. Not 6 billion years into it, humans took over and wiped out everything because Buddha over there thought it'd be funny to give them ideas that we existed without mentioning that we ***co-***existed, leading them to commit mutual solar destruction to have all life die out. The fallout created so many black holes everything collapsed on itself. You want me to create yet another universe without punishing the person who ruined the last one?\" he asked defiantly.\n\nThere were murmurs ringing throughout the room as the other gods whispered to each other, surprised that any among them spoke to the Celestials in such a tone.\n\n\"Buddha has been dealt with. We've stripped him of his rank and lowered him to an engineer that will oversee the natural laws of the universe you're about to create. So you will do as you're told.\"\n\nAbraham sighed. It was impossible to disobey the Celestials as he felt his body wanting to move towards the door and head to the abyss to create a Big Bang. He picked up his hat and tied his overcoat close to his body, then moved towards the door.\n\n\"Hey JC, go wake up the Holy Ghost. We've got work to do.\"",
"\"I cannot tell if you are joking or not, little sister.\" Death said trying her best to choke down a laugh. \n\nGod(dess) remained impassive as she sat on her throne. Each who sat in the council had their own individual throne. Each one tailored to whatever form they decided to embody. It was just that God's appeared to have been too big for her child like body.\n\n\"I'd like for you initiate The Second Big Bang.\"\n\nDeath passed a glance to her younger brother, Time, who was second in power only to her. It was apparent that he was choosing neutrality in this debate. \"Time!\" She yelled out.\n\nTime shook his head. \"It is not for me to interfere, Elder Sister. Do as you all wish, I am only here to witness.\"\n\nDeath bit back a remark and pinched the bridge of her nose as if warding off a headache. \"You would wish that I restart the process?\"\n\nGod nodded her head. \"Yes.\"\n\n\"May I ask why? I need a reason to do this. Not because you asked, Little Sister.\"\n\nGod opened her mouth to speak, but the youngest of the council spoke up. \"It was because me, Lucy and Goddess went to watch them. They only did mean things and thought mean things to each other.\" Mania said as she laid sprawled out on her throne.\n\n\"Correct,\" God confirmed.\n\n\"But isn't that how it's always been? Haven't they always been mean to each other? Aren't we mean to each other?\" Mania asked.\n\nGod did not answer.\n\n\"You gave them a secret test of character I presume?\" Despair asked.\n\nGod nodded her head.\n\n\"They did...I was just there...\" Mania added.\n\n\"And what did you find, upon initiating this secret test of character?\" Luck asked.\n\n\"That these mortals are corrupted. They are evil selfish beings who care not for anything but themself. They're corruption has gone on for too long.\" God said. Her voice was calm, but there was a flicker of anger behind her words.\n\n\"But aren't we just like them?\" Mania asked, getting several glares from the rest of the council. \"I mean, we have all changed right? Some more than others. I've changed four times already, Death has changed thrice, Time twice, you as well, God. I mean is it really, *good*, for God to kill everyone because of the way they were made or is that the reason why you're asking our Eldest Sister to do it?\"\n\nThe Room was quiet. Everyone either stared at Mania for her outward defiance of God or they looked towards God to see her reaction.\n\nGod did not twitch. \"Mania...\" God warned.\n\n\"No, she's right,\" Death said. \"You have just recently changed and template you were created from was of the purest child on Earth. It's really pure to condemn all of the universe of the acts of the few?\"\n\n\"But it's not the few.\" Despair added.\n\n\"It's everyone.\" Time said.\n\nDeath pinched her nose again. \"Ok, I can see where this is going. Perhaps *he* can shed some light on this subject.\"\n\n\"Death, I forbid you to-\"\n\n**\"Be quiet!\"** Death snapped.\n\nHer order was obeyed. \n\n\"Lucifer, my nephew, I call you to the council. Please shed light on our little *predicament*.\" She asked.\n\nThe door to The Room opened immediately after the words were spoke. In came a young man who looked to be at the very least twenty four. His eyes were pools of liquid darkness. His inky, black hair brushed the shoulders of his black suit, which seemed to swirl with the shadows.\n\nEveryone besides for Time, Death and Mania eyed him warily as he took his place besides Death's throne.\n\n\"Hi, Lucy!\" Mania waved.\n\n\"Hello, Auntie.\" Lucifer, The Embodiment of Chaos, replied.\n\n\"Lucifer.\" God stated.\n\n\"Mother.\" Lucifer responded.\n\nLucifer took a look around and traded glances with everyone in the room. Some of the occupants despised him with all their being, while the others were just wary of them. Lucifer cared not. His life did not revolve around theirs and theirs did not revolve around his.\n\n\"May I ask why you have called me hear, Auntie Death?\" Lucifer asked, bowing in her presence.\n\n\"It has been revealed to me that you and God have recently inspected the mortals.\"\n\n\"I would hardly call it recently, it was only a year ago,\" Lucifer said.\n\n\"That's a nanosecond compared to us.\" Love said.\n\n\"Perhaps,\" Lucifer agreed. \"But yes. It is true. Mother, Auntie Mania and I did indeed inspect the mortals.\" \n\n\"Tell me of what you found.\"\n\nLucifer chuckled as he turned to God. \"We saw the same thing we always see when we meet them.\"\n\n\"And what is that?\" Death asked.\n\n\"Mortals. We saw mortals doing what mortals do. We saw them living. My mother calls their certain ways of living sinful, but you all know my views on morality, some of you agree with me.\" He said turning towards Death and nodding. \"Should we destroy them because of their mistakes? Do you kill a child just because he's not listening to you? They're stumbling and I say let them stumble because if they did anything more or less then that would defeat the purpose of free will.\"\n\nDeath smiled and turned towards God. \"Does his reasoning not suffice?\"\n\nGod frowned and slowly nodded her head. \"It...does.\"\n\n\"This I believe this meeting is over.\"\n\n***\nI write similar stories over on my new subreddit. So if you'd like, check out my other writings. [GravityWriting](https://www.reddit.com/r/GravityWriting/)"
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[WP] You are the son of a notorious gang leader. The gang operates behind the scenes of a crappy pizza place front. You are expected to follow in your father's footsteps, but you're afraid to tell him that you don't want to because you absolutely love cooking pizza.
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"Pops, I need to talk to you. It's about the family business. I'm not all that comfortable, Y'know with everything we do. I just want to do my part and stay away from the dirty work. When we pop a few in the oven and burn 'em, I don't want to deal with that mess. Let someone else clean it up. Give me a knife and let me chop some anchovies. I love slicing me up some pepperoni. I keep the cheese on ice and pop the dough in the oven to grow. Someone orders a hot one, I'll bump it off in no time. If someone wants a double order, one for today and one for tomorrow, I'll burn one tonight and ice the other for the morning. When the orders come in thick and fast, I can whack them as fast as they come in. No one is faster than me and my knife chopping the veggies, the beef, the tuna, I even make salmon pizza people order at midnight. They fall asleep eating it. I grab the spices, shake 'em down, knock 'em over faster'n anyone else. Get the order to the fence before anyone knows. I can grease it up, put the heat on. Anyone calls in sick, I put 'em on the spot. They work for us or they don't work at all. So pops, leave me the joint and I'll do fine. Just don't make me do the messy stuff.",
"They were exactly alike. From their identical 6'4 frames, curly black hair, and sharp olive colored eyes to their hot tempers, no one could mistake Verchio Jr. as another man's son. The air between them was so heated that Verchio Jr. had to make sure he'd turned off the pizza oven. Twice.\n\n\"You care to repeat that, son of mine? I thought we had reached an understanding on your fifteenth birthday, eh?\" Verchio Sr. rolled up a cigar, \"You told me--and forgive my paraphrasing, my memory isn't so good--that you would join the family business.\"\n\nVerchio Jr balled his fists. \"Papi, I did. Just not the family business you had in mind.\"\n\nThe senior Verchio heckled his son to the audience of flour bags and jars of dried oregano, \"Oh, you're a wise guy, eh? Hey, everybody, look at this kid. Smart like his dad. He sounds like me--you sound like me, you know that?\"\n\nVerchio Jr. didn't see an easy way to break the news to his father. The reason why he'd been skipping out on the weekly gang analytics meetings, half-heartedly participating in gang activities, and just generally avoiding anything having to do with his father. But it had to be done. This can of tomato sauce had been festering for far too long. \n\n\"Papi,\" the boy said. Verchio Sr. waited impatiently. A bit of ash fell from his cigar, singeing the concrete. He finally mustered the courage to say it. \"Papi, Pizza is my life. All I want is to make the pizza. I don't want to be in your gang!\"\n\nVerchio Sr.'s eyes went wide. He remembered the day he'd said those same words to his father, Verchio Sr. Sr. the very same day that he was murdered with a pizza cutter. They never found out who did it. The only clue they found was a red-stained note that read, *this town ain't big enough for the two of us.* The police tried to run a DNA test on the red stain thinking it was blood, but all they got back was the genetic makeup of tomato paste and a boy's newfound lust for revenge. \n\nVerchio Jr. turned away from his father to wipe the wetness threatening to well up in his eyes for not even a second when he suddenly heard a piercing scream. Shocked, he let out a howl. A pizza cutter stuck out of his father's throat.\n\nAnd then there was silence.",
"I remember when I first started working behind the counter for my dad at Little Roma pizzeria. Actually, I wasn't so much working for my dad as I was simply keeping watch while him and all my \"uncles\" did their real business in the back. Of course, once in a while i'd have to actually cook a pizza. \n\nSee my family had actually once been in the pizza business. My great grandfather Angelo had come to America from Calabria. He was a baker and while his bread was good, he started making pizza after teaming up with my great grandma's brother Pietro. Pietro also introduced him into the world of the Black Hand. \n\nPietro was apparently a kind of twisted renaissance man. Not only was he creative in the kitchen making his special sunday gravy, he also knew how to get people to do what he wanted. In Italy he had offered protection from the bandits roaming around Calabria by taking a fee. Well eventually he got a lot of money from this and other side businesses (all legal surprisingly) but another local gangster was jealous and Pietro and his family left for Brooklyn. \n\nAngelo was more or less just a country rube. His family had always been bakers and had never done anything wrong, but once he actually made a lot of money in America, he became a ruthless SOB. He not only asked for protection money, but began doing things like importing illegal liquor, and even hash and dope, though nothing too hard. He didn't deal in prostitution or arms either, though my grandpa Tommy did that later.\n\nAnyway, as the more illegal end of the business took off after prohibition was over, the pizzeria fell to the wayside. Grandpa hired some other guy to make the pizzas and eventually my dad just kind of let it go. In fact when I was a kid, he'd put digiorno pizza in a freaking microwave in the back and say it was the family recipe. Even then it made me sick.\n\nSo when my dad said I had to run the business as a front, I decided that i'd redeem our family one pizza at a time. We already had an old pizza oven that hadn't been used in a while and after cleaning it up I started small. I looked up youtube videos and other resources on how to bake bread and pizza crusts and would serve them to my dad and the uncles. They all seemed to enjoy it. It also helped that mom had an excellent sauce recipe made from homemade tomatoes compliments of our relatives in Kansas City and Chicago.\n\nEventually i got confident enough that by the time I was 18 I was making great pizza and selling it to the few customers coming in. Of course that number grew though. Due to Instagram and Yelp and Facebook and all that, people began to hear about Little Roma. At first my dad was thrilled. Anything to help the family was good in his eyes. That was, until more suspicious types started coming in. Irish Mobsters from Boston, Russians, Yakuza's, Triads, and even police officers and feds. My dad wasn't too comfortable.\n\nIn fact at one point, some drunk Russian who happened to be the son of a guy my dad had shot noticed him in the back. Dad was making a hoagie for himself when all of a sudden this dumb Russian guy was shooting and cursing at him. Fortunately my dad went to our secret basement and the guy eventually ran out of bullets. Some of his handlers then came and took him away, but at that point, I knew i had to either put up or shut up. It was either get out of the real family business, or have my feet stuck in both world's.\n\nAnyway, on March 27th 2015, my 23rd birthday, I had planned to tell my dad that I didn't want any part of the business. I was going to kick him out and have Little Roma's for myself. But that day, my dad dropped a bomb on me.\n\n\"Look Bobby, I need someone to take over. I'm getting sick Bobby. Doctor Lowenstein says I got to relax. It might not be too bad but I'm thinking of going to Italy. I need you to run this stuff here. Your brothers are too young and unfortunately Carol and Maria can't find any decent Italians at college. It's gotta be you Bobby. I know you love this joint, but think about your family.\"\n\n\"I have Dad.\" I told him. When it came down to it though I didn't know what to tell him.\n\n\"Good. You'll be in good hands. Uncle Pete and Uncle Chuckie will take care of you. No more making pizza's for my boy. Your'e gonna be made.\"\n\n\"But dad?\" I couldn't say anything\n\n\"Look you'll be fine okay. And be sure you visit me and your mother in Naples okay.\"\n\n\" I don't think I can do it dad. I mean this pizza thing is kind of fun. I mean other than a few deliveries i haven't even dealt much with the business and and don't know if I want to.\"\n\nDad stood there silent. \n\n\"So this is what you want to do? You're a fucking disgrace. Don't you care about family?\" \n\nMy dad then went into a rant for about 20 minutes and ended it by saying he'd sell all of this stuff and turn our front into a print shop since we apparently owned one down in Newark. He then said that if I didn't run the family business he'd cut me off. I gladly accepted and then moved to the midwest. First i was in Kansas City with some of my mom's relatives, and then I went up to North Dakota in June.\n\nIn september, I finally bought enough equipment from my own savings and a loan I got from a local bank to start Little Roma up again. This time in Fargo. Sure it isn't New York. It's cold and rather than hearing Club music and Sinatra its classic rock and country,but its nice. I even met a nice girl out here and fortunately, the swedes don't have a mafia as far as I know. As for my dad, all I heard was a small snippet in the Times saying that he'd died in Italy of a heart attack. Though it said it was of natural causes, I wonder if my dad got his just deserts from a rival. i'll never know, but in a way its okay. He didn't want me to be happy and now I was.",
"\"Ah, another beautiful pizza for another beautiful customer!\" I grabbed the worn, wooden handle of the pizza peel and flipped it around in my hands. \"Today's the day. Today I'm going to tell Father.\"\n\nDelicate aromas fragranced the air with a luscious mixture of mozzarella cheese and basil while the mouthwatering linguica and Italian sausage cooked to perfection. *My favorite part?* -- *The crust.* Thick like a beautiful Italian woman, but it's got edge like a chicago style girl to seal the deal. *An absolute masterpiece!*\n\nI loved it. Everything in this place. It was a hole in the wall that needed work, *sure*, but it was unique. *Sensational if you asked me.* The flaws that my Father saw in the shop only added to the delicate caricatures that bring me inspiration. Maybe if Father saw my joy and passion he would change his mind and let me run the shop one day. I mean, I've turned this place from a scraggly pile of filth to a pretty reputable spot for the locals to dine. He should be proud of his youngest son... *shouldn't he*? \n\nThe sensor above the front door chimed as it opened, and someone tapped the bell on the front counter.\n\n\"Sorry! Be there in a minute!\"\n\nI scraped the pizza peel under the fresh, cooked pizza that trailed out of the oven, and slid it into the pizza box on the cut station. After four quick swishes and the box being set on the warmer, it was ready for pick up. I found the blind spot at the cutting station impersonal for gaining customers, but father was stingy with his money. He said to '*make due with what you got'*, so I did, but I would love to be able to see my customers and the smile I put on their faces.\n\n\"Are you here to pick up, or place an order?\" I said.\n\nI placed the pizza peel in its holster and swerved around the corner of the cut station to greet the customer. When I looked up from cracked tile floor at my feet, I met the barrel of a shotgun and a man who wore a Bill Clinton mask.\n\n\"Your Father owes us more money than he can repay,\" the man's voice was muffled behind the mask. \"So we're taking the most valuable things in his life-\"\n\n*He pumped the shotgun in his hands.*\n\n\"Starting with *you*.\"\n\n* * *\n\n^^^/r/EdenRenellaJones"
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[WP] "23 years ago today, I was the last human ever born..."
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"\" it would had to have happen anyways, I guess it had to be me.\" \n\n\"Yeah but how does it feel? I mean to think of what you mean, it must drive you a little mad no?\"\n\n\"Ha of course it does, but think, everywhere I go I can bet all the money in the world I am the youngest person there, hell I have won money by betting people that, it's a scam but completely legal I checked.\"\n\n\"I guess you have to look on the bright side eh? Well have you ever thought that right now is the last set of humans to ever exist?\"\n\n\"Oh all the time, people don't realize what a relief that could be, I mean you don't have to worry about leaving a lasting impression, you pretty well do what you want in 80 years max no one will be around to give a shit, and if it's me I sure as hell wouldn't.\"\n\n\"Did you ever get teased for being the last person to be born?\"\n\n\"Of course, growing up that's all people would talk to me about, kids are cruel man, I'm kinda glad they are gone now.\"\n\n\"Speaking of kids, did you ever want any?\"\n\n\"I thought about what it would be like yes, but ultimately it never crossed my mind as something that I would actually want, also I can have unprotected sex all I want, I mean since I was born condom factories pretty well went out of business as people started to realize that they couldn't reproduce. I also didn't have to take the reproductive system in bio so that is a plus.\"\n\n\"Thank you for your time but it seems we are running out of it today, have a good life.\"\n\n\"My 23 years have been good and I suspect they won't get worse, I was glad to answer your questions, goodbye.\"",
"23 years ago today, I was the last human ever-born.\n\nIt was an August morning, the kind where the sky hangs grey but refuses to rain, and it sat at the tail end of the hottest week on record in ten years. For a month, the news had been talking about one of either two things; the weather or congress. The weather because it promised nothing but heat and humidity until fall and congress because they promised the end of days. I suppose some shit doesn't every really change. \n\nThere was the usual stuff; partisan politics, war, economy, religion. Mostly it was us, though. The ever-born. They'd been playing around with the stuff for decades; cloning sheep and splicing cells, designer genes and stem cells. Then they'd gone and made a new person. A human born who couldn't die of old age, couldn't get sick, lose their minds or scar or sever a limb or paralyse. Perfectly rejuvenating bodies with an impossible number of progenitor cells. Each night, thousands of them shedding their nuclei and blooming in glorious hypermitosis. Every night the accumulation of matter that comprised us dead and reborn in entirety. They announced the impending existence of a designer human within a year of artificially inseminating twenty-one test subjects. You can imagine the shitstorm that followed that announcement. There were campaigns, attacks, protests. Eventually, the academic and military proponents lost out to the righteous and conservative. It was too late, though. I was number twenty-one. I was born. My mother died. It rained.\n\nThe next month congress passed the Responsible Cellular Entropy Act. They weren't allowed to make us after that. Twenty of us had already been born in the states. I made twenty-one. The last. China already had three. The United Kingdom Seven, at the time. Russia had a sheep.\n\n23 years ago, I was the last human ever-born. They'll still use progenitor cells for livestock, food supply being the pertinent issue it is, but not on humans. I was the last. \n\nFuck. The situation being what it is I probably shouldn't be standing in front of the living room window like this, watching the storm tear apart my garden. I like watching the water sweep down the glass, though. The way it blurs the garden on the other side. I can almost convince myself it's like that. The world. Malleable. Made of ripples and waves, subject to random chance. Free choice.\n\nI haven't hung the phone up yet. The line's dead but I don't want anyone else calling back just yet. One piece of bad news from an old member of the board that designed me is enough for one night. At least it wasn't about the tumours. Turns out the progenitor cells are a little too good at their job. They don't know how to stop. Being abnormal cells, their uncontrolled division – that quality which was hand-picked specifically to make me nigh immortal, is going to kill me. The irony would taste sweet if it weren't for the bitter after taste of daily chemotherapy tablets.\n\nI'm only surprised it took them 23 years. If it's true.\n\nThey've got one in the middle east. Or they say they've got one. My old friend from the board. Some warlord with a hard on for outlawed genetic science and religious zealotry has an ever-born V.2.0. Packaged him up as some kind of new messiah. Word is he uses its blood to fuel his soldiers. Gives them some kind of adrenaline high; heightens their senses, makes them heal faster than regular. Sounds a lot like propagandist bullshit to me. I'd just as soon not know, though.\n\n23 years ago today, I was the last human ever-born. 23 years ago I felt the sweet, humid touch of an August morning for the first time, just before the storm broke.\n\nToday I watch the rain and swallow my pills. The truth is, they don't make them like they used to.",
"Yes, I'm a bit self conscious about it.\n\nJust the other day I was having my head measured for a hat by an attractive young woman at Liddies and all I could think of was the flat part of my head. Would she notice? Would she snicker about it with the other saleswoman when I left?\n\nI had caused my mother a third degree laceration. (A perineal tear) The doctor had suggested she get a c-section but knowing I would be the last naturally born child on the Earth she felt it only right I go out the right way.\n\n\"This one's for the record books, NOW PUSH!\"\n\nThe incubators just don't shape the skull the same way. It's too perfect. Everyone looks like Jean-Luc Pecard when they come out. I myself look more like a wooly mammoth as the thickness of my crown overcompensates for that no-so-testtube shape I'm rocking underneath.\n\nI like my hat. It's old fashioned but it kinda fits who I am. \n",
"\"Happy birthday!\" the world screamed to me. Literally, the world. \n\n\"Thanks, everyone,\" I said into the device in my hand. It was one of those translating devices so everyone could understand me. You would think a hundred years after the invention of the immortality drug, the world would have at least decided on one universal language. Even at 23, I keenly understood the faults of mankind.\n\nWith a smile plastered to my face, I took a bite of the cake. \"Mmm,\" I said, letting the creamy goodness slide down my throat. I glanced at the pink insides and knew it was strawberry flavored but I couldn't help wonder what strawberries must have tasted like back when fields of them were still abundant. Lottie had told me about the past. When fruits took time to ripen or else they were sour, when animals roamed the lands side by side with humans, and when there was even land to still call 'land'.\n\nA deafening round of applause hit my ear drums and I held the smile for a moment longer before snapping my fingers. The floating screens all shut off. Finally. Darkness.\n\nIt may sound like I'm a spoiled brat but let me tell you how hard it is to be \"The World's Baby\". That's right. That's one of the official titles given to me when I was born as the last human. You see, now that everyone in the world that could afford it managed to get the immortality drug, they started to realize there were side effects. The main one being sterility. Each generation after the introduction of the drug was smaller than the last. So when I was born, I was named \"The Miracle Baby\", people fought over whether they should name me Adam or Eve, and \"The Ender\" because I was the last.\n\n*Knock knock knock*. The sound at my door shook me away from my thoughts. \"Who is i-\" *BAM*.\n\n\"Hi honey!\" the smell of lavender assaulted me and I choked a little. \"Oh, I'm so sorry, did I hit you?\" Lottie asked sweetly. I glared at her as I held my forehead. I could feel the bruise forming from where the door slammed into my skull. \"You should really be more careful.\"\n\nI growled grumpily. \"What do you want?\" I asked, dropping my hand. \n\n\"It's your birthday, can't your godmother come and wish you a happy birthday?\" she pouted. I narrowed my eyes, untrusting. \"Oh, and I need to run a few more tests, maybe program a few more things into that head of yours\" she said quickly. I knew it.\n\n\"But I brought you a present, so don't give me that grumpy face!\"\n\n\"Lottie, I literally don't know how else to explain it to you. You can't just designate yourself as someone's godmother no matter how smart or important you are.\" I glanced at the stuffed animal she produced from her oversized bag. \"Plus, it's my birthday so can't we take a break?\" I pleaded, trying to stand strong against the cuteness of the stuffed dog.\n\n\"Pish posh. As the last human born and the only one to not have the drug injected yet, your blood is the closest to our ancestor's. It is the most pure out of everyone in the world!\" Lottie pushed the dog into my chest and walked into my apartment. \"Just think, we could save our entire species. With no one else being born and people still dying from murders and accidents, it won't be long until humans are wiped out,\" she plopped herself down into my favorite chair.\n\n\"So what? What's so bad about humans no longer existing?\" I asked, petting the three marbly eyes of the dog. \n\n\"What's so bad? So much is so bad!\" she looked at me sadly. Sometimes she had that look. That look of pity and sadness. And I think, of regret. \"You wouldn't understand,\" she shook her head slowly. I was used to her saying that. I never understood. Lottie leaned over and stared off into the distance. At something that I couldn't see, something that I never *got* to see.\n\n\"Humans are beautiful creatures. We aren't meant to be immortal. I was living a silly fantasy when I helped develop the drug. So silly.\" I sat down quietly on the couch. \"I hadn't realized how it would change humans.\"\n\n\"No one thought it would make humans sterile. We all know tha-\"\n\n\"It's not about sterility!\" she snapped. Her oversized glasses slid down the bridge of her nose from the ferocity of her head turn. \"I meant the change in how humans acted! Only the rich and privileged got to live. We few had to watch as others died off. Entire races! At first, I thought we were the lucky ones but then I realized that death was actually a blessing. Immortality makes us lazy. Without the fear of death we do not push ourselves to do better. To be better. Even though we have all the information we need at our fingertips, just a download away, we let ourselves stall in our ignorance. We just continue doing the same thing over and over again. Without death we cannot have life.\"\n\nI sat in shocked silence. \n\n\"That is why I need to run just this one last test. I'm so close,\" Lottie whispered. She cupped my hands in hers and I looked into those piercingly deep blue eyes. \n\n\"Okay.\"\n\n\nI woke back up, still in the dark. \"What exactly are you even doing these tests for?\" I asked groggily, rubbing my eyes. There was no answer. I felt the back of my head and unplugged the cord. Downloading new information always left me woozy but Lottie always insisted that I learn new things. This time it looked like she wanted me to learn the best way to pick strawberries, more medicine and health related information, and- \"Dogs are only supposed to have two eyes?!\" I yelled.\n\nI stood up and stumbled to the one screen that was left lit. It illuminated the now melted cake.\n\nBlinking the sleep from my eyes, I read:\n\n*Hello dear,\n\nI'm so sorry I have to leave you like this but it was the only way. You see, I had given up hope on humans until you came along. I thought we were all doomed to extinction but with your blood, you breathed new life into our species. You are the miracle created from within the abomination. Thanks to all these years of testing and sampling, I managed to mix parts of your DNA- Oh, never mind. You wouldn't understand. The gist of it is that I have managed to create a whole new generation. A generation made from the one I am...excuse me, was, a part of. A new generation that can reproduce. One that can feel the joys of exploring and not just wandering. One that can appreciate goodness because they have tasted bitterness. However, we both know that this generation could not last in our society. Our society has become numb to life and that is why my generation must not exist with this one.\n\nSo I leave this new world to you. I have taught you all that you need to know in order to lead the others. I'm sorry to have to do this but I'm afraid you'll have to do the cleaning up of the bodies. It shouldn't be too hard since there are so few of us left but still, it's a terrible task that must be done. Don't worry, the pathogen I released should be harmless to anyone and anything that hasn't been injected with immortality. The new generation should also be fine. Included at the bottom are directions to my laboratory as well as my personal secret garden. You will have 6 months to yourself so you can straighten everything out and then every three years, 10 children will be born. Of course, my home has devices programmed to help you in taking care of these children as well as continuing the growth of my garden. Well, I suppose it's your garden now. Anyhow, it shouldn't take too many years for nature to start reclaiming her land. You'd be surprised by how much green is hidden under all the metal and stone.\n\nIn time, the sky will clear and the grey will turn to blue. Crickets will chirp lullabies to you and the leaves will dance in the wind. Smell the flowers that will soon bloom and taste what a real strawberry should taste like. Create your own art, sing your own songs, live your life so passionately that death becomes something to fear and life becomes a treasure again.\n\nWhen you have lived this way, then you will understand.*",
"Twenty-three years ago today I was the last human ever born. There isn't a copout to that part of the story, I wasn't the 'last human born on earth' nor was I 'the last human born as a regular human.' I was the last damn human to have ever been born, and one of the last humans left alive.\n\nAt this point I was celebrating my twenty-third birthday in a dive bar on the edge of the Arrke system, I'd just managed to get my pilots license, and I was going to be flying a starship. It wasn't an exciting job, but it was a good gig, especially as some big wigs would pay extra to have a near-extinct species drive their ship. I was a status symbol to aliens, anyone who could afford me could afford to have something scarce.\n\nA Veltok slammed his glass down beside me, snuggling up a little closer than I was happy with, I moved over on my stool to make that point. He didn't listen to it, \"You,\" he said, words slurred even through my translator, \"You're a human, right?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" I said, which translated to some sort of squawk in his language. The closest earthborn animal to a Veltok was a vulture. They were an entire species made up of hooked beaks and itchy feathers.\n\n\"I told you guys!\" He shouted over to a group of other Veltoks in the corner, \"they didn't think you were a human.\"\n\n\"Well, I am.\"\n\n\"That's so fucking cool man,\" he leaned in close, I could smell the rotting flesh on his breath, \"can you guys breathe fire?\"\n\n\"Only some of us,\" I smiled at him, trying to keep some of the hope alive. It was an odd trend among aliens to assume that humans could do a lot of things that they couldn't. It made sense when the first contact war happened we were WAY too young a race to have a chance, but we put up one hell of a fight. We almost got wiped out, but at the same time tons of aliens went back with war stories about humans who could fight after taking multiple bullets, and soldiers who would attack starships alone. All of it made us sound pretty grand, even if it was mostly hogwash.\n\n\"Can you?\"\n\n\"No,\" I shrugged apologetically, \"only the girls can.\"\n\n\"Damn man, that's gotta suck,\" he wrapped a feathered arm around me, \"You know women right? I can't imagine if Veltok babes could breathe fire. They already have the beaks to worry about.\"\n\n\"It's gotta be tough with the beaks.\"\n\n\"You have no idea, man.\" At that moment a green hand was softly placed on the Veltoks shoulder, he looked up to the alien that had grabbed him and his eyes widened a little, \"Oh, hey Kal, I didn't see you there, sup?\"\n\nShe just nodded to the side and he cleared his seat. She sat down beside me instead, I caught sight of a blaster at her side. She wasn't trying to hide the fact that she was armed, even in federation space.\n\n\"Human,\" She said cold, which wasn't a pun about her blood.\n\n\"Kal.\"\n\n'Kalistra to you,\" she said, her hand instinctively reached for her hip, \"but\" she relaxed it \"I need to ask you a favor so you can call me Kal.\"\n\n\"That changed quickly.\"\n\n\"Don't push me.\" She sighed and slipped me a ship of paper, it was all written in an alien text which slowly transformed to English as my contacts adjusted to it.\n\nI let my mouth hang open for a moment, \"This is a rush ticket.\"\n\n\"I'm looking for a crew.\"\n\n\"Well,\" I took a sip of my drink, \"Why me for the rush?\"\n\n\"Call it thematic, a new species on the rush to ascend a whole bunch of new planets.\"\n\n\"What do you call it?\"\n\n\"A gimmick to get people to cheer for us,\" she rolled up the paper and took it away from me, \"if we are going to beat the big companies we will need some public support.\"\n\n\"Like a human at the helm.\"\n\n\"Like a human at the helm.\" She smiled at me in the closest way her species, the Tever could. It was sincere, but the fact that it was filled with a row of razers threw me off, \"So what do you say?\"\n\n\"I don't even know you.\"\n\n\"But the rush starts tomorrow.\"\n\nI took the last sip of my drink, the rush was the wild west, only up and running every twenty years, and it lasted for three. Ships from across the galaxy would spread out to uncharted space to find places to mine, species to ascend and worlds to conquer. I drummed my fingers along the countertop, keeping rhythm with the music, \"What hanger is your ship in?\"",
"\"That's just how it is.\" I said, completing my story. \"I *should* have been the last one ever born anyway. If your claim that you're younger than I am is true, well, there may just be consequences.\" I leaned back into the hard wood of the uncomfortable chair, watching the boy squirm in his own seat.\n\n\"What kind of consequences?\" He asked, seeming worried. \n\n\"Oh, you know, just the regular ol' execution. Why do you ask?\" I replied as casual as I could manage. If this plan of mine were to work, I had to have him worried.\n\n\"Execution!?\" He sputtered. \"But... I didn't do anything wrong!\" He exclaimed, as if trying to deny what I had said.\n\n\"Who said it would be your execution? More appropriately, it would be everyone who ever met you aside from some higher ups who would be getting executed.\"\n\n\"What? Why?!\" He said, increasingly panicked. I smiled inwardly. This was perfect. He was a good kid, innocent to boot. With him like this, he wouldn't betray me if it cost him his life. Kids like him, preteens especially, had an idealized idea of chivalry. He thought he could just sacrifice himself for a friend and it would all work out in the end. At least, that's how kids raised like he had been thought. Naive. Naive and perfect tools.\n\n\"Well, that's just how they do things. Officially, the last human born was one hundred years ago. That's what they tell the masses. Of course, we know better, but if the secret were to get out... Well, that wouldn't be good for the bigwigs who run the world.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" \n\n\"Because our species is supposed to be extinct of course. We were a threat to their existence, and they eliminated our species for it. Well, *almost* all, as you and I validate.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" He said, looking down. \n\n\"I doubt we're the only humans left anywhere, but every time one us are born, it extends the time that our species lives. That's why it's so important they keep us confined.\"\n\n\"I don't want to be confined.\" He said, dejected.\n\n\"Neither do I, so listen here, I have a plan...\" Coming close to his ear, I begin to whisper the idea that had been forming in my head since he had come to me, minus the parts he didn't need to know.\n\nAn hour later, we heard a pounding on the door. The boy jumped, startled. After he settled, I looked into his eyes and nodded. It was time.\n\nI went to the door, motioning for the boy to leave through the window in the back. I had pitched this plan knowing I had to heft some of the danger myself, or at least make it seem like I had. The boy, naive as he was, would still be able to see through a plan that blatantly protected my life. Opening the creaking oak wood portal, I peeked out into the hallway beyond my home. A man, who matched the description in only the 'male' sense of the word, stepped forward.\n\n\"May I come in for a search of the premises?\" He asked in an almost robotic tone. That's right. *They* could only learn English from the fragments of humanity, and only knew the sounds associated with the language. Not once had I heard one of them speaking in a dialect that could have counted as human. Sarcasm was a foreign concept, and they took everything literally. I would have to be careful when dealing with their kind.\n\n\"Of course, but may I ask why you must come in?\" I said in response, careful to tailor the exact meaning of my words to what I wanted to communicate. I rolled my eyes as I realized I was being careful for nothing. Had I said 'Why should I let you in?', even with a tone that would raise flags for humans, it would respond similarly to my question. All I really had to avoid was sarcasm and double meanings.\n\n\"We are looking for this organism. We have reason to believe that it is contained here.\" The thing formed human-like limbs, then removed what seemed to be a photograph from its body. I already knew what it would look like, but I had to play along. It showed me the photograph, a rendering of the boy I had met only an hour before. Yet this one looked different. It showed the boy as one of their species. I furrowed my brow, half for show. I was sure that it was so no one would suspect that a new human had been born if they were questioned.\n\n\"Nope, I've never seen him. You can come inside if you want to verify that.\" I said. Reminding myself to act no different than an innocent man, I opened the door farther to accommodate the now more human creature. It was at this point in the plan that I was relying on the boy. If he had fallen from the window, he would be dead, and it was very likely I would soon follow. Right as the creature was about to enter the apartment, a blur of color fell from the ceiling, contrasting the sterile white of the walls and the creature. The boy who had just descended upon it stuck his hand deep into its body, grasping the very center. I smiled. I would get out, that I was almost certain of.\n\n\"Squeeze it, hard.\" I said, knowing exactly what he would be experiencing at this moment.\n\n\"It's hot!\" He responded through gritted teeth.\n\n\"I know it is. It'll get cold when you're done, so get it done.\" \n\n\"Right.\" He said, straining to destroy the core of the creature, who had gone into spasms. I smiled as he struggled and failed. I knew he hadn't been strong enough to destroy it. That was part of the plan he didn't know. *Time to build some trust*, I thought. \n\n\"Here, I'll get it.\" I said, plunging my hands into the gel-like substance. Wrapping my hands around his, I squeezed down, hard. We heard a crack, and I instructed him to remove his hands. When we had finished pulling our arms out of the goo, the creature, now dead, dropped to the floor. It began to disperse across the hallway, no longer held together by the thing that gave it life.\n\n\"You said I would do it.\" They boy said, looking cheated.\n\n\"Wipe that pout off your face.\" I said. Softening my tone, I continued. \"I didn't get it the first time I tried either.\"\n\n\"Oh, okay.\" He said, looking a little relieved. \"By the way, I was wondering. Why don't they just kill us if we're so dangerous?\" I looked up to the fluorescent lights. I had known this question was coming. I guess I had to explain myself.\n\n\"They can't, not unless we attack them like we just did.\" I said. \"If you don't kill it in time however, that heat would get worse and worse. It would eventually explode and the gel that makes up their body would cover you and harden instantly. You don't survive that, since you can't do anything to get it off. At the very least you'd be disabled for life. At worst you'd suffocate within minutes from the gel covering your face. Anyways, that's why they had to contain us, instead of fighting. We have the upper hand in that area. Unfortunately, they succeeded and now there aren't many of us left.\"\n\n\"So, what now?\" The boy asked.\n\n\"Well, we're no longer contained, are we? We're going to take revenge!\"\n\n__________________________________________________________________________________________\nI'm still up for continuing this further, but I have run out of time for now. If you like what you read, make sure to visit /r/OpiWrites, where I post all the short stories I write here!\n\n"
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[WP] You wake up naked in a strange room. The voicemails on your phone gives you clues to what happened.
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"I woke up disoriented, i did not remember anything for the last night. Must have had too much to drink considering it feels like my head are tectonic plates drifting apart and into each other; constantly sending waves of pain through my head. How long had i been out? Where are my clothes? Why do i have blood on my legs?\n\nThe room i woke up in seems like the typical interrigation room, with a mirror, a a chair with a single light hanging from the roof and several pictures that could help me understand what happened. There were countless pictures of me naked, with several clowns with kitchen knives on my phone. \"what the fuck\" i whispered to myself, never having had some form of phobia of clowns i thought there was a logical explaination for this. I mean.. how am i alive if they had some bad intentions? Maybe they are going to torture me.. it would make sense to move me to a safe location before torturing me. \n\nOn the table there was a brand new phone in a box, but you could tell someone has opened it because it did not have the plastic wrapping. I opened the box, it had a iphone 6 in it, and behind the phone there was a bloody note. \"Save yourself, they are com..\" it read, the blood was still wet. i immediately puked on the floor. I was sweating and shaking, it was so cold in this room. The metal floor was so cold that you are forced would play the floor is lava game, each time you took a step a icy blast was sent from your foot up to your knee.\n\nI looked at the phone, there was no time or date on it.My first instinct was to call my friends, but the phone did not have a SIM card, and there was no wifi. i checked for pictures but all i could find was audio recordings of some maniac laughing and screams in the background. i started to panic, pacing around the room, trying to smash through the obvious one way mirror window. It did not work, my chair broke leaving me with half a chair and some rods.\n\nSuddenly i could hear multiple footsteps outside, i could even feel it send vibrations through the floor. They were not going to take me without a fight. quickly bent the metal rods to the point where they broke off leaving me with a sort of spear, only it was a couple of feet long.\n\nI could hear the person on the other side of the door trying to unlock the door, i was ready to jump him. I could feel my blood flowing, i did not feel cold anymore. Fight or flight was setting in, and i had nowhere to run. As the door started to move i took a deep breath, and with all my power i lunged at the guy entering the room. the others were startled they began shouting at me, but i did not hear them, i just kept on attacking the ones closest too me. Those fucking freaks were going to die.\n\nI got exshausted very quickly, probably because spilling blood is hard work and even harder on a empty stomach. i backed off, and i came to my senses.\n\"It was only a prank dude!!\" Someone yelled from outside.\n\"What the fuck man it was a social experiment\" i could hear the man lying on the cold floor whimper.\n\n",
"The splitting headache was killing me. Begrudgingly I opened my eyes, blinking a 'fuck you' to the rising sun in morse code. \n\nI threw the woolly blanket, getting up to go to the bathroom. The room was expectantly chilly for September. I gently stumbled into the bathroom, still disoriented from the hangover. \n\n\"Good morning bathroom!\" I pronounce happily.\n\nMy birthday suit wearing reflection repeats the greeting back to me. Well, at least I figured out why I was cold.\n\nAfter splashing my visage with cold, refreshing water I walked back into the bedroom. I *cannot* find my clothes. The room is stark empty. The only sign of habitance, the messy bed I got up from. My clothes are nowhere in sight.\n\nA blinking light in the corner of my eye gets my attention. The voice machine. Maybe that would explain things. I move near the desk beside the bed. Sitting down I play the recordings.\n\n\"You have **3** new messages. Message 1, Time 1:40 am. Beeeeep\" machine informs me. It proceeds to play them in order.\n\nA girl's voice greets me. \"Hi Markus. Hope you are fine. You really overdid it last night with the alcohol. Anyways, sorry to leave you like that in the middle of the night, but I was really excited to see if the solution you suggested could work. I am so excited! That pattern you discovered is ground breaking.\" The recording ended with an excited squeal.\n\nI sat in silence for a minute. Who the hell was that girl? Did we... get down to it last night? Where were my clothes. And more importantly, was she hot? \n\nThe questions were biting me. What pattern was she talking about? Last night was a blurb. All I remembered was attending... attending....ah, yes! The Astronomers conference last night. Man that was a bust. And not even informative. Half of their research was out dated. If only they could benefit from modern tools and techniques available -\n\nThe sharp stab of consciousness cleared my mind for a second. That girl, Rita something. She had shown me her thesis. Studying outgoing Radio waves and their reflection. A fancy way to search for extraterrestrials.\n\nI ... I had found something. Yes.what, what was it? I gently massaged my temple trying to recollect. \n\nWait there was 2 more messages left. I played the next one.\n\n\"You have **2 ** messages left. Time 2:45 am. \" \n\nThe girl came back. She sound excited. A lot. \"Markus. Oh my god, oh my god it worked. The patterns in the signals, you were right. I ran the program and there it was, bright as day, the message. \" \n\nShe stopped to take a deep breath. It was the first one in 30 seconds.\n\n\"I have already contacted my superiors. It seems almost unreal. I could get a nobel for this. Don't worry, I'll share the money with you. But the credit is all mine. After all I am the one -\n\n\"Oh. hold on. someones at the door . Probably my the boss. I can't wait to see his face.Beeeeep\" The message stopped.\n\nThere was a glass of water on the desk. I slowly took a sip. While drinking I played the last message. \n\nHm. Seems I had made an important discovery in the astronomy. Something Nobel prize worthy. This might be a good day aft-\n\n\"Time:2:53 am\"\n\nA sharp whisper followed. \"Oh god, Marcus. Pick up,pick up\" I could feel the fear in her voice. \n\nA loud bang was heard in the background. The girl suddenly started crying. \"Oh god, oh god, oh god....they killed him, they killed him.\" \n\n\"Hey what the hell's happening ?\" I shouted. It was futile. The recording was over 5 hours old.\n\nThe girl seemed to be crying. Softly. Like she didn't want to be heard. Like she didn't want to be found.\n\n\"Markus, listen to me!\" she whispered. \"It worked. It worked a bit too well.\" I could hear moving softly. Probably trying to hide.\n\n\"The message. It was unintentional. We weren't supposed to find it. And now that we have, they are trying to bury it. Prove it a hoax. \" She was suddenly breathing loudly, as if she was running.\n\n\"Markus. You have to tell people. You have to warn the world. If they don't want to be found, that means only one thing. Tell them, what I told you last night. All of it!\" \n\nOnly one problem with that. Last night was a black out. I shuffled closer trying to listen harder. Her breathing slowed down. Must have stopped running.\n\n\"Okay. I think I lost them. Listen, I'll try to catch a cab and come back to the hotel. Make sure you are safe. They may come for y-\"\n\nHer sentence was finished with a sharp crack. Like a sound of a whip being smacked. Something hit the ground. Silence for a while.\n\nI stared at the machine, praying for her to come back.\n\n\"Who is this?\" The voice was hoarse. Like a sick man, speaking on his death bed. The voice waited for a while before continuing.\n\n\"Damn it. She was talking to someone. Call centre. The outbreak is not contained. Whoever's on the other end has to be eliminated\"\n\nBeep.Beep.Beep..... - I kept staring at the machine. After a while, i gained enough control to express my feelings.\n\n\"What. The. FUCK!\"\n\nKnock-Knock. Someone was at the door.",
"My eyes snapped open. I sit up and find myself nude and alarmingly filthy. So far nothing out of the ordinary.\n\nI grew somewhat disconcerted that I had woken up in an unfamiliar room. Usually I awake like this in my mother's attic or on her bed when she's out for the weekend or when she comes back from the bar... \n\nA message machine beeps and having no computer at hand, I proceeded to investigate it. \n\n\"You have unheard messages. Press pound to play,\" the machine's voice cooed to me.\n\nI am erect almost instantly from the sound of a female voice addressing me and proceed to masturbate furiously.\n\nIn a flurry of arousal and passion I rewound the machine's introduction multiple times until I achieved a climax, frying the answering machine from misuse in the process.\n\nI have no idea where I am or what I was supposed to hear, but I do know this:\nI am 36 years old and this is the greatest day of my life.\n\n",
"Darkness. Only darkness and nothing but. The kind of pitch blackness that stifles you, that reaps away notions of being. In this blackness, I am only a mind, a stream of thoughts and nobody else. Nobody at all. I question whether I am alive, whether I have even lived. I doubt the hand that I send to reach out around me, and the sensation of cold exposed skin that it touches. Is this me? Is this my body?\n\nI must collect myself. My self is all that is intact, I think. It's all that I have right now, this dim and uncertain concept that I am, and that I possess a body. There is the feeling of closeness of others, or at least of otherness around me. There is not only me. I think I feel nauseous, a vague supposition that realises itself most violently as I vomit over my chest.\n\nThere is heat and a sickly aroma now, as my senses come back to me. I feel held down by the air around me and even the vomit snaking down my body feels cooler than all else. I reach out again and on both sides there are others. Their bodies are much colder than mine, and naked too. What I would give to be this cold, I think. \n\nAfter a time, my fingers meet a phone, which I press to my forehead for some time before turning it on and seeing that it is mine. The light from the screen bores into my eyes and my skull retaliates as a streak of lightning pain sends my head back into the wall behind me, which I find to be metallic and unforgiving.\n\nTime passes. I try again with the phone, this time I point it in front of me and am met with the face of death. A sickly figure is drooped in front of me and stares blankly at the wall beside me. My heart picks up on this and its straining rhythm thunders through my body. I bring myself to look at the phone through squinted eyes. 4.19 am. No signal. My daughter, now dead, smiling from the screen. Two new messages.\n\nI select the first one and the tears begin to flow before I get past the greeting, for it is my brother, I know this to be so. He tells me that the orange trees are ready but that there is nobody to help with the harvest. He tells me about our mutual friend who nobody has seen in three days. He says that I should call him when I get there. \n\nWhen I get where? Shadows of memories echo past. A train. A meal of bread and milk on a stranger's farm. The man with the lying tongue. A fence among pines.\n\nThe next message is from my mother, and her words disclose to me my fate and the horror of my situation. She tells me about the orange harvest and that there is not enough help now, and that our neighbour has lost his daughter, the one who moved away in February. I try to picture the girl's face but I cannot, though I remember it to be a face that smiled a lot as we ate figs under the crescent moon. My mother tells me that she heard about my plan from Hassan and that she thinks it is foolish as apparently now they are letting people through the fence anyway, even feeding some of them, and that cousin Karam made it to Germany without having to hide in a truck. She tells me to call when I get there.\n\nDon't worry mother, I think, I will be there soon. I put the phone down. The heat is becoming unbearable now and the darkness is not as unwelcoming as it had been before. Breathing doesn't come easy, and my heart seems to rattle more than it does thunder now. At last I am at one with who I am, and I know that soon I will be in the cool night that awaits me outside. ",
"Being a girl, there's a lot of things in the world you're taught to fear. Sexual predators, getting pregnant, periods... you must fear all of these things.\n\nWaking up in a room that you don't recognize? Yes, that was also on the list.\n\nMy entire body was sore from my feet to my head. I couldn't tell if it was from sleeping on the hard floor, or something else. The room was well lit, yet it was certainly unfamiliar. I tried to gather myself, yet no recollections of events leading up to this point came to me. Sighing, I picked myself up off the floor.\n\nAfter a quick look around as my hands covered my chest, I hypothesized that the room I was in was some sort of basement. There wasn't much in here. There was what I assumed was a bathroom that was slightly open, but the exit itself was securely locked. I guess I was being kept here as some sort of prisoner. That's another thing you were taught to fear when you're female.\n\nI found my clothes near the side of the room. They were sprawled out messily as if they had been thrown aside. My bra looked like it had been ripped off though, and I wasn't sure where my panties were. Great, another thing that I was told to fear as a woman...\n\nI dressed myself in what I could, but it was only some short, black shorts and a gray tanktop. Lucky for me though, my phone was still in my pocket! \"Yes!\" I couldn't help but whisper.\n\nI turned my phone on and saw that I had a lot of voicemail messages from a number I didn't recognize. On a whim, I activated the voicemail playback on my phone.\n\n---\n\n*Hi, Sarah! It's me, Jason. My sister, Sierra, gave me your number. I'm that guy you met at the coffee shop, remember? I ordered a latte, and you gave me one? Anyways, I wanted to check up on you and say hi. I hope you're doing well, and I can't wait for us to talk again! Call back soon!*\n\nMessage received, May 5th, 2014\n\n---\n\n*Hi, Sarah! Jason again. Hit me up soon, okay? Byeeeee.*\n\nMessage received, May 6th, 2014\n\n---\n\n*Hi, Sarah! Sierra said that you've been a little creeped out by me. I'm wondering what's so creepy about me. All I've been doing is saying hello by calling you and showing up at your workplace! What's so bad about that? Anyways, call me back soon, okay? I'd love for us to talk again.*\n\nMessage received, May 7th, 2014\n\n---\n\n*Hey, Sarah. I've been thinking about you a lot. I think I'm in love with you. Call me back soon and tell me you love me too, okay?*\n\nMessage received, May 7th, 2014\n\n---\n\n*Sorry. I panicked. I got worried that you didn't love me back, but I know you do. Please call soon. I know you love me. You do. I'll be stopping by your work tomorrow. Maybe we can go on a date when you're done? Call me.*\n\nMessage received, May 7th, 2014\n\n---\n\nThis was getting too weird. But still, this was another item on the list of things girls should be afraid of. I had to keep going. It could have had information as to where I was... or what had happened.\n\nAt least hearing these messages were starting to bring back my memory.\n\n---\n\n*Hey, Sarah. I'm sorry for my outburst at the shop. Sierra said I'm not allowed back there. She also said that I am to stay away from you. I understand how jealous she is. You can set the record straight, right? I mean, it's not like you actually rejected me. You were just trying not to make Sierra jealous, ha ha.*\n\n...\n\n*You better not have rejected me. Call me back.*\n\nMessage received, May 8th, 2014\n\n---\n\n*Call me. Now.*\n\nMessage received, May 8th, 2014\n\n---\n\n*Hey, Sarah! Sorry I haven't called you lately. I've just been really stressed. I've also been working a lot, but it's okay. Now things will finally be okay. Call me soon. Love you.*\n\nMessage received, May 21st, 2014\n\n---\n\nMay 21st? That was odd. What was he doing during that time... I gasped in horror. I knew what was coming next. I knew.\n\n---\n\n*Hey, Sarah! Did you see me wave at you? Did you? I'm not sure if you did since you closed the blinds to your window. Oh well. I can see you still. Siiiiigh, so beautiful you are. Thank goodness for all those cameras I put into your house, right?*\n\n*Love you. Call me.*\n\nMessage received, May 22nd, 2014\n\n---\n\nThe memories were beginning to come back... Oh God... This really was a situation that girls were always warned about...\n\n---\n\n*YOU CALLED THE POLICE ON ME?! WHY?! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?! I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME, SARAH! SARAH! GODDAMMIT, SARAH! AS SOON AS I GET THESE ASSHOLES OFF MY TRAIL, I'M COMING FOR YOU. I'M COMING FOR YOU, SARAH!*\n\nMessage received, May 22nd, 2014\n\n---\n\nAt this point, I heard the creaking of the bathroom door. I turned my head and sure enough, someone was coming out. A huge smile was on his lips and a gun was in his hand. I took a step back in fear.\n\nWithout even realizing it, I dropped my phone.\n\n---\n\n*Hey, Sarah! I'm on my way to your house now. I'm sure you were wondering why Sierra didn't come in at work today. Well, that was because I couldn't have my dear sister spilling secrets. Love you. See you soon.*\n\nMessage received, May 23rd, 2014\n\n---\n\n\"Hey, Sarah,\" he greeted.\n\n\"Jason...\" I whispered in fear.\n\n\"I didn't know you would wake up so soon. I'm so sorry that I wasn't right next to you when you did, but I had some things I needed to take care of.\" he explained, lifting his gun up for emphasis, yet never taking his eyes off of me. It was at this point that I was glad I had dressed myself. Still, the desire to cover my chest and cross my legs flowed through my body.\n\nI guess that was the natural reaction that girls had been taught.\n\n---\n\n*I'm here. Let me in, okay, love?*\n\nMessage received, May 23rd, 2014\n\n---\n\n\"S-Stay away from me, Jason...\" I couldn't help but whimper. My arms were tightly wrapped around my chest and hugging my body. To say that I was scared was a grand understatement.\n\n---\n\n*Hey, Sarah! We're on our way to my house! You're right beside me, but I like to record these precious moments we spend together. Love you!*\n\nMessage received, May 23rd, 2014\n\n---\n\n\"Remember that moment, Sarah?\" Jason asked, sighing in happiness. \"It was beautiful. The way you were tied up, screaming... You looked like an angel.\"\n\nI shuddered.\n\n---\n\n*Sarah, I'm hurt. You were struggling against me all night. Well, now I've put you to sleep. I'm about to make sweet, sweet love to you. And then, you'll be mine forever...*\n\nMessage received, May 23rd, 2014\n\n---\n\nI hadn't heard that message before. At this point, all of my emotions came bursting through at once. The realization of everything that had happened to me was too much. I had been harassed, stalked, kidnapped, drugged, and now I had just learned I had been raped as well. I knew my crotch was sore, but...\n\nMy entire body was sore. I couldn't focus on just one thing.\n\nOut of nowhere, I began to sob. This was too much, and now he had locked us in a room together.\n\n---\n\n*Jason, can you hear me? Sarah?*\n\n---\n\nI forced myself to stop crying. The message didn't come from Jason. This was a voice I did not recognize.\n\n---\n\n*Please get back on the phone, Jason. Let's talk this out. We don't want you to hurt her. Can we please resolve this peacefully? No-one has to die if you just call us.*\n\n---\n\nJason growled, his eyes turning into a fierce scowl. \"Turn that damn thing off...\"\n\n\"W-Why?\" I couldn't help but ask.\n\n\"Those damn officers want to take you away from me and then arrest me for everything I've done.\" Jason slammed his fist against a nearby wall, causing me to wince. \"Turn it off, dammit!\"\n\n---\n\n*We know you murdered your sister.*\n\n---\n\nI was just about to reach down and grab the phone when that statement echoed through the speakers. \"S-Sierra...\" I gasped, looking down and holding my head. \"O-Oh god!\"\n\n---\n\n*We can help you. Please, Jason. Call us back.*\n\nMessage received, May 23rd, 2014\n\n---\n\nBy this point, I was sobbing uncontrollably. These messages put the last few pieces into place. Jason, a man whose sister was a fun co-worker of mine, had ordered a latte from me and stalked me ever since. After I tried to have the police catch him, he escaped the crime scene. From there he went on to murder his sister, so that I couldn't get his address and have police come to his house.\n\nNow I'm his hostage... Police are outside, trying to get this maniac to listen and he won't. Meanwhile, all I can do is take in everything that had just happened.\n\nNo wonder girls are taught to be afraid of these things.",
"\"Hello, David... If you're hearing this, you've had a hell of a night.\" I look around the room and it seems disorienting to see. Nothing looks familiar to me. The female voice continues. \"If you look around, you'll think this is a prison cell. But, you should know the truth. We did some horrible things here, David. I'll call you again soon...\"\n\nI stand up and realize that I'm not wearing clothes. A scary prospect, really. I'm not exactly the most in-shape person. In fact, Karina says I have a dad body. Whatever the hell that means... I scratch my gut and look down. This floor is cold and damp. What the hell happened here again? I press the next button on my Visual Voicemail screen.\n\n\"David... If you hear this, you're still alive... Good. The government did some bad things here, dear. In fact, our own son has been experimented on as well. X has taken all she could from us. She's made sure that none of us can expose the truth... None of us would be able to expose the truth, except for you. So, Harlan and I came up with a plan, David.\" The voicemail cuts off.\n\nI rub my head as I hear the letter of 'X' and flinch. That psychotic bitch who's responsible for every government project within the realm of the imagination. From projects for the betterment of mankind to the death of the enemies of the government. I look down towards the phone again and press the button again.\n\n\"...David, Karina's in trouble now. I know you're still getting acclimated to the cell. Now, here's where it gets fun. If my timing is right, mate. X will set off the bomb. At that time, I'm going to unlock your door. Get the clothes I left for you and put them on. I also left you an assault rifle. Use it. Get ready to run, David. Shoot the bastards and don't care about questions.\"\n\nHarlan was an arrogant prick, someone who thought he knew it all. But, he had a worried voice. His confidence was shattered. But as he said, there was a loud explosion. The cell rattled a bit, and the door jarred open. I push it open and see an open locker in the hallway. Clothing and an assault rifle. What else is there... I see a new beep.\n\n\"David... Harlan left you that equipment. He used his connections to break into the facility. Try to blend in. If they do find you, shoot until you can't anymore. I'm being taken into the facility... Even if you can try to free me, don't. The virus is taking over. Hopefully, if I can flare up while in custody... I can take out a few of them.\"\n\nAs I put on the suit, I look towards the hallway. Into the unknown..."
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[WP] You are at home with your family. One day, you check the mail, and receive a letter. It's the letter you've been waiting for. You're a sleeper agent, and you just received your mission...
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[
"To Our Dear Neighbor:\n\n------\n\n**A**utumn is here, and it's the perfect time to start stocking up on festive necessities for the holiday seasons! \n\n**S**ince Halloween is just around the corner and Thanksgiving only a few weeks away, Dullington's is pleased to offer a wide selection of decorations, culinary options, spices... and of course, pumpkins!\n\n**S**till, what holiday would be complete without music?\n\n**A**t Dullington's, we strive to offer the very best classics and contemporary pieces to help you set the festive mood.\n\n**S**tore hours during the holidays will be 8am-9pm, Monday through Saturday.\n\n**S**unday hours will be 10am-5pm.\n\n**I**n keeping with the season of giving, Dullington's is also pleased to offer a wide variety of bargain deals and packages!\n\n**N**ow, for a limited time, select two pumpkins for the price of one.\n\n**A**lso, you'll receive a pumpkin carving kit, absolutely free!\n\n**T**hat's not all, though!\n\n**E**veryone who makes a purchase of $50 or more will receive a special surprise gift!\n\n**T**here's never been a better time to shop!\n\n**H**ere are some more of our special items:\n\n**E**lf costumes for the coming Christmas season!\n\n**C**hocolate treats for the kids!\n\n**A**lcoholic beverages for the adults!\n\n**T**urkey trimmings and decorations!\n\n**N**ew and stylish holiday scarves!\n\n**E**dible arrangements!\n\n**X**ylophones!\n\n**T**insel!\n\n**D**oor-hangers and window decorations!\n\n**O**fficially licensed \"Frozen\" merchandise!\n\n**O**utdoor-ready furniture and lights!\n\n**R**eindeer!\n\n------\n\nSo, head on in to Dullington's at your earliest possible convenience!\n\nYour Neighbor,\n\nDullington's",
"Before we begin, I need you to understand that two months ago, I was literally the most ordinary housewife who has ever lived. I married my college sweetheart, we have three kids, and my degree in literature looks very pretty in an ornate frame on my wall. It’s the only part of me I really have from before I was married, so I like to look at the way my maiden name, Carter, looks in the fancy scrawling letters. My husband considers it self-indulgent, but he tends to dote on me, and so he only teases me about it. My daughter, Faith, is almost twelve, and Ethan and Colton just turned nine. The boys are obsessed with sports and baseball takes up much of our time, and quiet Faith is always lost with her nose in a book. Travis, my husband, has a good job as an associate partner at his law firm. We have a dog, Buster, a ridiculous mutt with huge floppy ears and big, soulful eyes. \n\nMy days were spent grocery shopping, baseball-momming, taking endless trips to the library, and making sure dinner was on the table at 6:00pm, sharp. I was on the PTA. I volunteered with the Home-Owners Association where we live. I was literally Anybody Jones, living in Anywhere, USA. I was content. My family was happy. \n\nTwo months ago, it was the middle of June. The kids were out of school, and we had a rare day off from baseball tournaments. The boys were at a friend’s house for the day, and I sent Faith to get the mail. It was any other day of the year, nothing special, no reason to worry that life was about to end. My sweet towhead handed me the stack of bills and junk mail, then frowned, the little furrow in her brow that made her look so much like me making me smile as she handed me an envelope with just my name on it. Caroline. Handwritten. No address, no return address. At first, I figured it was just something from the HOA. Nothing sinister, nothing strange.\n\n“What’s this, Mom?” She had asked. I can still see the way her innocent blue eyes looked up at me; well, not up, exactly. She would be as tall as me, soon. I shook my head and took the envelope from her, setting it on the counter before rummaging in the pantry for the pasta. Trav had asked for spaghetti for dinner, and I was happy to oblige. It was an easy meal. If I was lucky, I’d even have time to get to the crossword in the paper while the sauce simmered.\n\n“I’m sure it’s nothing, sweetheart. Probably a board meeting announcement. Did you want garlic bread with dinner?” I turned to look at her, but she was already back in her book, lounging in the breakfast nook with a bottle of water. In her happy place. Head in the clouds. \n\nOnce I had the water started for the noodles, I picked up the envelope again, sliding my nail under the seal and pulling out a sheet of paper; I remember that it was nice paper, stationery, thick and silky to the touch. There was a strange logo on the top, unfamiliar. I stirred the sauce absently as I glanced down to the only words on the entire page, hand written in an impossibly fine, clear hand.\n\n*Whiskey Falls*\n\nIt was like being hit by lightning. I felt a physical ache in my gut, like I had been punched, all the wind gone from my lungs. I must have made a strange noise, because Faith looked up from her book, perplexed. My hands were trembling, and the letter shook in my grasp. It made a strange, shimmery noise, silk against skin. Everything, everything came rushing back to me, so fast and so hard that it was like being slammed against a wall. My daughter’s concerned face swam in my vision, but I couldn’t see her anymore. I saw training halls. I saw endless hours spent at shooting ranges, in classrooms, a girl who looked strikingly similar to Faith smiling up at a face I had all but forgotten. \n\nI remembered being sent away; the pain in my heart, the confusion. I could recall feeling like I had failed. I was not good enough, they didn’t want me. My life had been wasted. College had been their idea, not mine. I had no desire to sit in lecture halls and learn about Shakespeare or Chaucer. I wanted adventure. I wanted to feel the adrenaline rush, I wanted to make a difference. Then the memories ended, reverting to what I already knew. Meeting Travis at a sorority party, our engagement party, the wedding. The kids at Disneyland. Our trip to Aruba. From one life to the next, with no segue, no connecting link. I was two people. And I could only be one of them, now.\n\n“Mom? Are you okay?” Faith’s voice finally called me out of my reverie, and I blinked to clear my vision, looking at her pretty face. I smiled reassuringly, folding the letter and stuffing it in the back pocket of my jeans. Nodding, I gestured to the stove, where the water for the spaghetti had begun to boil.\n\n“I’m fine, sorry, just realized I need to run to the store just for a moment. Could you get the noodles on? And keep an eye on the sauce?” Nodding, Faith set her book down and began measuring noodles, giving me a strange, side-long glance. I smiled again, kissing her cheek and squeezing her hand.\n\n“Thank you, sweetheart.” Such a sweet, smart girl. I watched her for a moment before darting up the kitchen stairs. I threw a change of clothes into a small, messenger-style bag, surprising myself when I removed the bottom of a drawer and retrieved a small pistol, a passport, and a cell phone, tossing those in the bag, too. Grabbing my car keys off the table by the garage, I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath. I would miss them. \n\nThe silver sedan started right up, some top-40 pop song blaring on the radio. Ever since I had let Faith ride up front, she had decided she could listen to whatever she wanted. I found myself humming about shaking things off without thinking about it. Aviator sunglasses shielded my eyes from the sinking sun, and I was grateful for the full tank of gas. I had a long way to go before I ditched the car. I said goodbye to the pretty suburban house and my wonderful suburban life in the rear-view mirror.\n"
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If you feel that you could write something better if you applied your actual self to this instead of this wealthy person, then by all means feel free to do so.
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[WP] Yesterday, you were crunching numbers on Wall Street. Today, you wake up in a cramped mud hut. Soon you discover that the wealth hierarchy has been flipped upside down. People who were once in the top 1% are now in the bottom 1%, top 2% in the bottom 2%, top 3% in the bottom 3%, and so forth.
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"Day 1:\n\nThe world is in chaos. It seems that by some sort of divine force, the rich are now poor and the poor are now rich. I wasn't the wealthiest guy around, but I made ends meet. Who would have thought that would be what screwed me over. I checked my bank account, and it seems as if i'm going to have to do a little more saving here and there if I want to keep my home.\n\nDay 8:\n\nThe government tried to fix the chaos, but apparently money is power. Many government roles have been replaced, and anyone who can do anything about this crisis doesn't want to. I was let go from my job because my boss lost his business to a Walmart greeter. It seems we may be in this one for the long haul.\n\nDay 28:\n\nWith no aid from the government, it seems as if this change is permanent. I am a poor man now. I had to sell my house and purchase a crummy apartment, it was devastating having to tell my kids we were leaving the house they grew up in. They didn't understand it; frankly, I didn't either. This was the world now, and the only thing I could do was try to make my situation the best it can be.\n\nDay 51:\n\nI have begun to hate the newly rich. They waste away money they haven't earned on luxuries they don't deserve. I worked hard my entire life for nothing, the man who bought my house added extreme renovations to the point where I don't even recognize it anymore. He use to be a taxi driver. Fuck that guy.\n\nDay 84:\n\nMy luck is finally starting to turn around. Those who spent extravagantly are starting to realize what they've done. A few billionaires have lost it all, and even a few former billionaires have started making a good amount of money again. I got a desk job at a meat packing industry that pays pretty well. My savings are gone but I can at least provide for myself again.\n\nDay 108:\n\nIm making money again and it feels great. Even if I lost everything, I didn't lose the experience I had at my last job. The guy who bought my house ended up losing it, it was foreclosed by the bank because he couldn't afford it anymore. I realized that all these people who have all this money don't have the experience it takes to maintain it. Things might be taking a turn for the better for me.\n\nDay 195:\n\nThat's it, we've come full circle. The bank sold me my house back at a good price, enough to cover the renovations made on it. I got promoted and my new job pays even better than my last one. Almost all of those who woke up with millions have lost it all, and it seems as if life is going back to how it was before.\n\nDay 365:\n\n...Not again",
"\"Edgar,\" a hand violently shook me awake, \"Edgar! Wake up!\"\n\nI shot up like yesterday's S&P numbers and opened my eyes quicker than I could trade a fresh IPO to an angel investor. Blocking my view was a large, early Jonah Hill type of a man staring at me with beady eyes and unsettling enthusiasm. It was the type of enthusiasm that suggested all our shares tanked and we missed the boat to load those suckers onto a college grad looking to play hedge fund manager. And I couldn't for the life of me understand why anyone would stand so close to someone so early in the morning. The man continued his frantic babble.\n\n\"You're Edgar Whitman right? *The* Edgar Whitman?\" The man looked for validation of his clearly overzealous admiration. Like I am meant to give birth to the next hit on Wall Street because this poor sap knows my name. If my name were on the market, and everyone who valued it owned one share, my board of directors would address me as their Lord and Savior for the profits I would be putting in their pockets. I really should write a book.\n\n\"Yes, I'm Edgar Whitman. You're welcome. Now may I ask what you are doing in my roo-\" my peripherals caught the edge of the cot I apparently passed out on. My stare moved toward the walls, made of twigs and berries like an immature high school sex ed joke. Jesus, I've never celebrated so hard I landed in poverty before. Did I take that sleeze home last night? Did she take me home? I must be at her farm. \"Am I on a farm?\"\n\n\"Sir, Mr. Edgar, please I was hoping you could tell me that. Should... should I call you sir?\" This man was as spineless as a limp jellyfish, only much fatter and not so buoyant. I had no time for men of his caliber. Men of no caliber really. You can't honestly expect to make a name for yourself as a top gun in the one percent if you hesitate to pull the trigger. And he wore a tie. Who wears ties? Interns wear ties. Fucking. Interns.\n\n\"You can call me whatever the hell you want as long as you have breakfast and coffee,\" I rubbed the back of my head, caressing the vibrancy my hair still held. Damn I knew there was a reason I paid four grand for conditioner, for mornings like these when I had to maintain posture with fools such as Mr. Hill here. \"And why are you here if you don't know where we are? I didn't bang you as well last night did I? Where is that blonde who couldn't shut up about her fiancé?\"\n\n\"I don't have breakfast for you, Mr. Edgar, and I don't know where we are. I fell asleep in my bed last night, I said goodnight to my butler and woke up here, next to you. I'm just glad it was next to a familiar face. Do you think we were drugged? Oh, and I'm Tyler by the way.\" Like I care.\n\n\"We could have been, wouldn't be the first time,\" actually it would have been the fourth time. Seems once you make a name for yourself average citizens feel they have some sort of power to steal from the rich and give to their own poor souls like some sort of selfish Robin Hood. But I put the fortune in unfortunate and usually those poor souls don't keep me long. Mostly because they are too busy drowning in their bathtub with my foot behind their head giving them that little extra drive to not give up and keep chasing their dreams. I stood up and stretched, my pants on the floor ripped to shreds. They were once pretty nice pants too.\n\"Well if you don't have breakfast for me Tyler, where the fuck can I get some breakfast?\" Surely a man of his size could write a Yelp review with the scent of his nose and his remarkably absent talent of moderation. I don't mind greed, but for God's sakes there are children in Africa who can't make it to two years on this planet because people like Tyler exist in America. And when people like Tyler exist in America, people like Tyler create movements. Movements outside of what is happening in their bowels. No, people like Tyler need to be *accepted* in America. So people like Tyler force those around them to accept their lifestyle. I have a hard time accepting anything but a broad's fragile ego when it's the only means of fucking her brains out.\n\n\"I'm not sure, Mr. Edgar. It's really, **really** hot outside. And I have no cell service.\" Tyler is clearly not an optimist. But who would be when you are twenty times more likely to die of a heart attack than the rest of the world who understands how to count calories? \n\n\"Then our first order of business, my Campbell's chunky chicken noodle friend, is to find us some eats. And whiskey. Preferably Stagg. Did you see that blonde though? Ass like James and the Giant Peach, only without that faggy kid who talks to bugs.\" I started toward the leaf-covered entrance. This place smelled like the cover of National Geographic after I wiped my ass with it and let it ferment in a bottle of Burnett's Vodka. Ugghh. Burnett's Vodka.\n\nTyler did half a hop skip as I somewhat expected and followed after me. \"Arn't you worried someone drugged us or something? I still have my wallet, cash and cards, but what if like, we're supposed to be killed soon?\" I fanned open the door to our hut. The rays of sun smacked my face like I tried to compliment the nice rack it had and she'd been raised in a damaged conservative home. God **damn** the fat guy wasn't lyin' it was hot outside. I turned to face the only Pillsbury Dough Boy I knew in existence.\n\n\"Listen, Tyler, I understand you probably have never taken a bump of cocaine or sacrificed an insecure woman's feelings so you could get your rocks off, but for the sake of my withdrawals please find me some breakfast. Or I will admit to you that I was the one who kidnapped you so I could eat your plump little body,\" I spun around and I could feel this kid's heart drop to the floor like a white girl who's wearing heels for the first time to impress- well who gives a shit who she's trying to impress. \n\n\"So **YOU** did this?\" I ignored his question. Several of my colleagues, and business rivals, walked aimlessly around this dreary, dusty park with looks on their faces like they tasted a Jelly Belly jelly bean but couldn't quite pin the flavor. It seemed I had awoken in the spawn of the wet dream between the creator of Farmville and Plants vs. Zombies. I only had two addictions, and one of them was freemium games. The other was making women hate every decision they ever made that led up to them meeting me. Which isn't as fun. Or frustrating. Time Magazine even wrote an article about me concerning freemium games, but it wasn't the cover story so I didn't read it. I just remember the interviewer was some intellectual type. And by intellectual type I mean he wore glasses and used big words he thought interviewers should use but held no bearing to the answer I was going to give. I digress, I'm really fucking hungry.\n\n\"**Hey!**\" Tyler abruptly grabbed my shoulder, \"I asked you a question!\" I grabbed his shoulder just as abruptly.\n\n\"And I told you to get me some breakfast and a coffee! Until you do that, I don't much care for your questions Tyler!\" You would think a man of his size would hold a higher priority of breakfast.\n\n\"You're an asshole Mr. Edgar, I'm going to go find out why the hell I'm here, forget you!\" Tyler stormed off in the way that a woman storms off when she runs out of logic in an argument and now uses the lack of her presence as a bargaining chip. Well, jokes on you bitch, I only used you for my carnal desires and if you arn't going to help my cause then onto the next one. \n\n\"You know what they say,\" I cupped my hands to amplify my ever so clever reply, \"I am what I eat, and right now I'm really **fucking HUNGRY!**\" \n\nThat's definitely going in my book. Now, where is that smell coming from? God I hope it's breakfast. \n",
"Thomas Reginaw, office drone, stared glumly at his computer.\n\nThe office was still packed after the \"reversal\". Gossips chattered in the background and phones rang. On his way into work Tom had listened to the radio, detailing the governments radical new wealth distribution plan. Riots had broken out in the Hamptons and Malibu, but the plan continued uninterrupted. Suddenly, millions who were living paycheck-to-paycheck were now multi-millionaires. Poor Bill Gates was reduced to living in a hovel underneath a bridge.\n\nAnd yet, today, Tom was stuck in the office, staring glumly at his computer.\n\nThat morning, Tom the office drone had woke up early, and rushed to check his bank account. He was in an exuberant mood as he logged in, speculating on what luxuries and exotic vacations he could now afford. Now he was at work, annoyed. A single thought kept running through his mind.\n\n*What are the odds I'd be exactly in the 50th percentile?*",
"I woke up in a trailer park.\n\nGoodbye to the thousand-count sheets. Goodbye to the memory foam mattress. Goodbye to the teak bed frame and the black cherry end tables—to the carpet. To the sweet smell of *nothing.* To quiet.\n\nHow?\n\nThe park was absolute lunacy. Screen doors were slamming open, people were yelling at their wives, everyone was howling at the moon.\n\nHow-how-hoooooow?\n\nBut it didn’t take long for us to organize. We were all bankers and analysts, consultants, negotiators, CEOs—in a word, *leaders.*\n\nYou’d think that we’d go alpha-dog on each other and duke it out in the streets, but there was a very natural kind of hierarchy. \n\nWe all fell in beneath James Lewellin West. CEO of the CEOs. King of Kings.\n\nAnd together we got into our newfound, beat-up trucks, and beat a path downtown. \n\n***\n\nI overheard someone in the caravan talking about the Earth’s magnetic poles switching over. I wonder what he knows.\n\n***\n\nWe got to Midtown by midday. \n\nPeople were expecting us. We had national guard, cops in riot gear, armored trucks with guns on top.\n\n“Fucking soldiers.” Jim West, King Boss, spat into the asphalt. “Middle class ain’t got no loyalty. They always just hate *down*, don’t they?”\n\nI crack a smile, and darkly think that nobody wants to hate what they one day want to be.\n\nThe soldiers and the newfound paupers stand off.\n\nIt would be deathly quiet, if not for the click of loading guns.\n\nWe wait. And then we get angry.\n\nAnd then the rage of a thousand men and women used to getting what they wanted welled up and spread through the crowd like smoke on our breaths, it harsher our voices, and we yelled. We shouted. And we marched.\n\nThat’s when the first shots fired.\n\nWe were wronged, but we were human. We scattered.\n\n***\nIn our trash bag tents underground, someone says there was a solar flare. More nonsense about what might’ve happened. I don’t think we’ll ever know.\n***\n\nOur dear Jim West, Emperor-Leader, has a plan.\n\nJust like building a company, we need to start with some capital.\n\nThere’s one thing we have a lot of: people. Human capital was coming right out the wazoo. The question was how to channel it.\n\nPeople were strong. People could take what they wanted.\n\nThat’s when the first heists started. We didn’t start small, oh no. We were ambitious. That’s how we were brought up, when our rich parents told us we needed to be rich too. If we weren’t we were failures.\n\nWe would do anything to live up to the legacy of wealth.\n\nSo we stole. Sometimes we killed. \n\nI don’t take pride in it.\n\nSometimes I killed.\n\n***\nIn our keeled-over row homes, I hear someone talk about the alignment of stars. Doubtful. And everybody else is doubting too. There’s no explanation for this, they say. Now we just need to fight and scrape to survive. We need to get mean. It’s only the wealthy who have the privilege of being kind.\n\n***\n\nOur Kingpin Jim West has us running drugs.\n\nThis is the way, he says. This is how we take money from them and put it right in our pockets. You get it?\n\nI got it.\n\nBut it’s always people from our side buying it up. We’re just taking from each other. \n\nFor the first time I doubt our dearest Pit Boss. Where’s our capital? Where’s our wealth?\n\n***\nNobody talks about hows or whys anymore. We talk about food. Soda. Greasy chicken.\n***\n\nIt’s late September when I decide to go in to the precinct.\n\nIt’s Fall, and the changing leaves tell me I need to make a change, too.\n\nThe cop takes my story, my testimonial against the Crime Lord Jim West.\n\nHe jots it down. Promises me a minimal sentence, thanks me for cooperating.\n\nBut he asks, Why? Why do any of it?\n\nI had no choice, I say. You don’t know how it is out there. \n\nI had no choice.\n***\n###/r/NaimKabir"
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[WP] After attempting suicide by overdose, you wake up in a bar. The bartender reveals himself to be an angel, and will answer any three questions you have before letting you choose your fate.
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"\n\n\"How long have you been coming here?\"\n\nI looked up, recognizing the man in front of me as the bartender from the pub below my apartment. Frank was a kind man, mid-twenties, owner of the place I frequently visited; I'd miss him.\n\nWait, why was I seeing him now?\n\nHe was cleaning a glass, rubbing a towel against it, \"I'm guessing you don't understand what's going on by the look on your face.\"\n\n\"I-uh,\" I looked up from my seat, glancing around the bar. All of the seats and stools were down, but the entire place was empty. Maybe Frank let me in before it opened, maybe I didn't do what I thought I just did. I looked back at him, \"When did I get here?\"\n\nFrank looked up from the glass and nodded at the clock at the far end of the room, \"About five minutes ago, big man upstairs brought you in.\"\n\nI raised an eyebrow, \"The super brought me?\"\n\nFrank laughed and looked back down at the glass, making sure he cleaned off the smudges. \"Wrong big guy.\" Frank placed the glass down on the bar and then threw the towel over his shoulder, \"Usual?\"\n\nI didn't know what to say, but before I could even reply, Frank was pouring me a scotch on the rocks, three ice cubes, two straws, just like always. Once he made the drink, he placed a napkin, then the glass on the bar in front of me. He smiled as he spread his arms and leaned on the bar afterwards, \"So, how long have you been coming here?\"\n\nI grabbed the glass, just so I could hold something. \"I, uhh, guess since I moved in. Eight, maybe nine years?\"\n\nFrank nodded, \"That sounds about right to me.\"\n\nI took a sip of the scotch and the looked up at Frank, \"Where am I?\"\n\nFrank smiled, \"Purgatory, the in-between, the long tunnel.\" Frank stood upwards and shrugged, \"You tried to overdose, now you're here, in His turf.\"\n\nI gulped, so I wasn't dreaming, I had actually tried, I had actually attempted suicide. I shook my head, \"Why?\"\n\n\"I don't have the answer to that question, but right now, you've only got me.\" Frank leaned on the bar once again, using his elbow this time, \"He's giving you a second chance because you deserve one.\" I was about to speak, but Frank held up his hand, \"Before you say anything else, let's go over a few things. First off, I'm an angel.\" Frank lifted his hands in the air, \"Big surprise right? The bartender is the Angel?\" He laughed and nodded, \"Most of the time, every bartender you meet is an Angel, easiest way for the big guy to keep tabs on all of us.\" Frank smiled and winked at me, \"Everyone needs a drink now and then.\"\n\nI laughed this time, almost spitting out the scotch from my glass.\n\n\"Secondly, He gave you a second chance. It's pretty simple. You get three questions to ask me,\" he held up his hand again, \"don't worry the last five don't count. Three questions, I answer them. Then you get to choose.\"\n\n\"Choose--\" I stopped myself before asking the question.\n\nFrank smiled, \"Good catch. You get to choose your fate. But first, three questions.\"\n\nI took another sip of the scotch. Three questions to ask an Angel. I had always wondered what questions I would ask God, it was always a good conversation starter at Christmas or Thanksgiving. Everyone always said the same thing though, they wanted to know things like the meaning of life, if humanity is alone in the universe, and all things that wouldn't matter to a dead man or woman.\n\nBut I wasn't dead, was I? I was still alive, just stuck between life and death, on the verge of dying, on the verge of waking. My life wasn't over, but why know the meaning of life if I still had time to figure it out myself. I was never one to be handed things, I wasn't about to start now.\n\n\"Who would miss me the most?\"\n\nFrank nodded, a question I'm sure he got asked a lot. \"Your parents would miss you a whole lot. They would mourn you and ask God why you did what you did, but their time is almost up, their mourning would only last until they too knew they were going to join you in heaven.\" Frank grabbed another glass and started making a drink for himself, his classic gin and tonic I always saw him nurse, \"Your friends would miss you a whole lot, and they would drink to you every anniversary of your death until they started having children and were dealing with the deaths of their own parents. They'd remember you, but you'd be forgotten soon after.\" Frank took a sip of his drink and then nodded, \"But I would miss you as well, wondering why I never saw the signs, or thinking about all the conversations we could have had. I would remember you, dedicate a drink to you, hang your picture up on the wall. You wouldn't be forgotten here in this pub. You'd always have a seat.\"\n\nI smiled, it was good to know the answer to that question as much as it hurt me to hear it. I didn't have lover, or children, I only had my parents as family. I knew my friends would forget me once their lives started, but Frank, Frank would remember. He was always kind, heart-warming, loving. He always did have a seat for me at his pub, always gave me my drink and got me to where I needed to go. He always made sure I would get home, or cut me off when I needed to work. He was my friend as much as he was my bartender, and I owed him a lot.\n\n\"How long have you been an Angel?\"\n\nHe was taken back by this as he stopped sipping his gin mid-gulp. I'm guessing he had never been asked this question before, \"I was offered the position when I was nineteen. I was in an accident, well, I *got* into an accident. Saved the lives of about eight people before He came to me,\" Frank shrugged and placed his drink down. \"He told me the qualities he saw in me and if I wanted to keep serving the people, I obliged. I became an Angel, but didn't receive my wings until about four years later, after my first one on one.\" Frank smiled, \"Her name was Heather, beautiful young girl, always safe, always kind, always welcoming. Just get involved with the wrong people.\" Frank nodded, \"I've been doing this for so long now that I forget the years, but I remember the patrons, the regulars,\" he smiled, \"the one on ones with each and every one of them.\"\n\nI raised my glass to him and he tapped his own with mine. We each drank, finishing off the last of our drinks. I spun my straw in the glass for a bit, thinking about Frank and his life and thinking about my own. \n\nHow foolish could I have been to try something like an overdose? I had friends, family, a good bar, a good job. I thought about it all. How I would visit my parents on the weekend and share a cup of coffee with my father; how that coffee was always filled with grinds. I had always hated it, but know, all I wanted to do was taste those grinds and talk with my dad. I thought of my job and my lunches at the cafeteria, as miserable as they were, I had friends to share them with and I longed for another Taco Tuesday.\n\nI thought of my visits to Frank's Pub almost every day, and how Frank would always talk to me when I entered. How he would make my drink and ask me about my day. How I would laugh and smile at his poorly timed jokes or his off-balanced humor. Frank always made my day, and I longed for another drink with the man that got me through the worst of the worst. I longed for another night in Frank's pub.\n\n\"Can I get another?\"\n\nFrank smiled, he had let me sit and think for quite some time, and he and I both realized I had just used my last question. He began making my drink and he nodded, \"Anything for you,\" he placed the drink down in front of me and winked, \"Anything for you.\"\n\n____\n\n*Fantastic prompt! I hope you enjoyed! As always you can check out /r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs for more!*",
"I awake with a gasp, body coursing with adrenaline. Last thing I remember, I was downing pills. I was downing a shit-ton of pills.\n\n\"Hey, man, don't say anything for a sec--\"\n\n\"What the FUCK?!?\" I shout.\n\n\"You just tried to commit suic--\"\n\n\"Where the fuck am I?\" I hop off the bar stool, spinning around, trying to get my bearings. I suddenly notice the bartender has wings. Big, feathery, white wings.\n\n\"Well, it's kind of like purgato--\"\n\n\"Who the fuck are you?\"\n\n\"Well, I mean, I'm an angel, and you get--well, *got*--to ask me three questions before choosing your fate. Maybe think before you start talking next time?\"\n\nSuddenly everything goes dark and I feel my soul shifting somewhere else.",
"\"Can I get an Old Fashioned, with Pappy Van Winkle 20 year?\"\n\n\"So... you realize that I am giving you three, and only three questions, right?\"\n\nHe placed down the glass he had been cleaning, and flinging the rag over his shoulder, he hunched over, both hands splayed over the counter. I imagined his face slightly twisted in grimace, but his cocked head hung just before one of the dim lights on the bar. There was nobody else at the bar to block the view. And scarcely another soul in the booths around us. Though every now and then, out of the corner of my eye, I swore I could have noticed a shadow or two, drinking from their glasses. How long had I been here?\n\nWhat had he said about three wishes? \n\n\"Yes. No, I mean no. No. Can you explain?\" I ask. Where was this bar?\n\nHe stood up, but his shoulders were slightly slouched. Now standing right before me, looking down upon me? I couldn't see his face. Why couldn't I see his face? Was there a light behind him again? I winced, turning away from his invisible gaze .\n\n\"Sorry, mate. You're dead,\" he spoke slowly, calmly. \"Offed yourself actually. Pills.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" I looked around the room. The air was thick, like a smoking room, but without the acrid fumes of tobacco. What time is it? I don't have a watch. Cellphone's gone. The windows are dark. Must be late. Probably around three. \"So I get three wishes?\"\n\n\"No,\" now he was stern. \"Not three wishes. You are a Suicide, which means you've ended up here, in the *Our Lady Luck* to decide your own fate. Life,\" he lifted his right hand out, palm up, as though he were holding something. \"Or death,\" his left hand mirror the movement. He alternated raising them up and down, weighing the heft of each. \"You may ask any three questions of me, and I will answer it truthfully to you.\"\n\n\"And if you can't answer the question?\" I rubbed my knuckles into my eyes, hoping the general haze of bar would yield. Still dark, still smoky.\n\n\"Well, should that happen, I will allow you to ask another question in it's place.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" I said, taking a deep breath. \"Wait, did that one count?\"\n\n\"No,\" again sternly, but softening as he continued, \"Listen, I can tell when you're asking one of your questions. Simple requests, clarifications of the rules, those don't count.\"\n\n\"In that case, can I get an Old Fashioned, with Pappy Van Winkle 20 year?\"\n\n\"That won't count as a question, even if I do make you one, but are you sure you want to be drinking at a time like this?\"\n\n\"I tried never to take life seriously. Why start now that I'm dead?\"\n\n\"Don't you think that maybe that attitude got you here in the first place?\"\n\nI shrugged my shoulders, smiling weakly. He turned and started to make the drink. It took a few minutes, but soon he was gently topping the ice and placed the drink on coaster before me. \"You know, maybe that should be my first question?\"\n\nHis face was still hidden, crowned by that persistent glow, but I could tell he was smiling. "
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[WP] The second amendment of the United States constitution has been modified. Everyone is now required to carry a gun, at all times.
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"When I saw the two men approaching me, I knew there was going to be trouble.\n\n\"You'll have to come with us\", said the larger man, while his companion eyed me warily. They didn't seem to carry any weapons, but I was sure that either of them could subdue me easily, if I as much as tried to make a wrong move.\n\n\"Am I being detained?\" I asked, playing for time.\n\n\"Yes, sir, you *are* being detained\", he answered, rolling his eyes. \"Now will you please stop acting dumb and come with us? We have to ask you some questions, and we *expect* your cooperation.\"\n\nI decided to get right to the point. \"Is this about the gun? I only carry it because it's the law; I have no intention of shooting it whatsoever. Look, it doesn't even have a magazine, for god's sake!\"\n\n\"You could still bludgeon someone with it,\" said the other man. \"Either way, sir, you're not getting on this flight if you insist on keeping the gun.\"\n\nI knew this was a losing fight. Now I'd have to get out of the transit zone and shop for a train ticket to Moscow... good thing I still have my wallet. My suitcases will probably be long gone, if I know anything about the Russian entrepreneurial spirit. Shit.\n\n\"You cannot detain someone for exercising his freedom of creed,\" boomed a voice from behind us. A bearded man in a blue turban stepped between me and the security guards. \"and I would like to speak to your supervisor now, if you please.\"\n\n\"And you are?..\" asked the larger guard, a bit taken aback.\n\n\"Arslan Singh, at your service,\" answered the man. \"Don't worry, my friend, I know what you're going through,\" he continued, addressing me. \"We shall sort this out.\"",
"\"Hi welcome to McDonalds, how may I take your order?\"\n\n\"Hello, I hope you are well today. I would like a number 4 combo with medium fries and coke, please. Can I get that without pickles please?\" \n\n\"Certainly sir, I have a medium number 4 with coke and no pickles, is everything correct on your screen?\"\n\n\"Yes ma'am.\" \n\n\"Your total is 8.63, please pay at the first window.\"\n\n\"Thank you very much.\"\n\nHarold proceeded to buy his lunch and inspected the bag. His sandwich had pickles on it. Four years ago this would've been a highlight for his day, but since Trumps second term began people understood the rules. There was no way he could walk in, elbow his way to the front of the line, receive a refund and a new sandwich while berating the manager and servers. Nowadays all the people left in the workforce and not dead or in prison for murder/death/kill charges scraped by on the federal minimum wage of $2.75/hour supplemented by band aid vouchers and twenty rounds a week were not to be trifled with. Harold picked the pickles off his sandwich and flicked them out his car window to the delight of a seagull. People learned to be a lot more polite very quickly.",
"It started in theatre a small town in upstate New York. I don't know where, exactly. I don't think anyone does. There's a dispute it happened somewhere near Cooperstown, where they have the Baseball Hall of Fame. Most people just have this image in their head, like I do, of where Norman Rockwell must have did most of his paintings. An absolutely gorgeous little town, early fall setting. Nice, polite, white people lining up to go to a movie theatre. Every single one of them armed, law abiding citizens. A great as America could ever hope to be. \n\nAfter the lights went dark, who the hell knows what started it. Some idiot talking too loud? Some bean-head on their cell phone? All I know is this one can't be pinned on gang violence or street thugs or visible monitories acting out. There was only one piece of surviving footage taken from a cell phone from inside the theatre. News agencies and experts deconstructed the hell out of that footage for weeks afterwards. \n\nA young man, about 35 years old, pulled a Glock 9 mm and started shooting at the two people sitting in front of him. He missed both of them, hit and killed a person two rows ahead. The two people he tried to shoot pulled their guns out and fired back. The people sitting in the front row turned to look behind them, after their friend was killed. They see two people behind them with their guns out. They dove for cover and start shooting back. People sitting behind the 35 year old who started it all start taking fire, they take cover and start shooting back. \n\nFrom there it just spread. Outside the theatre and across the whole town, like it took a life of its own. \n\nWe call it The Wave. \n\nThe Wave has spread across the whole of America about three or four times, depending on how you count it travelling east to west or north to south. It tends to bounce up and down the coasts faster than anywhere else because of the more densely populated areas. The news actually gives us coverage of where The Wave is headed. It's taken a bizarre casualness about it, like it's part of the weather report. \n\n\"Temperatures this weekend a bit chilly as the fall weather rolls in. No rain predicted until Saturday. High fifties to low sixties predicted from Fulton to Oswego. And have your bullet proof vests ready, heavy gunfire is expected this Friday as The Wave passes through our region. Stay safe everybody.\" \n\nActually there is no THE Wave. The Wave split up in several directions and travels all over America. Dies out in some places, hovers in others for a while. Comes to a dead stop at the Canadian border and Mexico and sometimes bounces back from it. Some people claim The Wave has started spontaneously in several places, I don't doubt that. But most agree it all started in that little movie theatre in upstate New York. \n\nThis is what it looks like when The Wave passes through your town. \n\nYou're outdoors, getting groceries or something, with your head in lala land and minding your own business. Off in the distance you will hear a gunshot. You won't pay much attention to it, distant gun shots are heard all the time. Instinctively you kind of drown that out. Then maybe two more. Still too distant to think too much about it, maybe some kids playing with fireworks. Then you hear a volley of gunfire, and everyone around you stops. \n\nIt's the creepiest kind of dead quiet. People driving by noticing it will actually slow down their cars and stop to lean out their window and have a listen. Then you hear it. That distinctive crack sound that tells you, with your well trained ear, this isn't a kid playing with bottle rockets. Someone responds to it, more cracks are heard. Every single person you can see within eyesight is looking around wondering the exact same thing. Where is it coming from? And remember, ALL of these people are armed. So the next thing on your mind is, who is going to be first? Who is going to pull their gun and where are they going to fire it? All that time the wave is getting closer and closer. You're not just hearing gunfire anymore. You start to hear ricochets. You can hear bullets whizzing through the air over your head. \n\nThe thing that really gets you is there is so much of it. It seems to be coming from all directions. People just out of eyesight are now firing. The hissing is not longer a the hiss of a passing bullet. You start to hear that pop sound to let you know a bullet just missed your ear. \n\nThen the inevitable happens. Someone cracks. They pull their gun and they start firing. They don't know what the hell they are firing at. They're shooting in the air. They're shooting down the street. They're shooting people right in front of them. They're firing blind all over the place. If you're out in the open, what do you think a couple of dozen armed people are going to do? You got to put that person down, especially if they're firing in your direction. Problem is when you start firing in that direction, people over there are going to start firing back at you. \n\nOnce it gets that bad all you can do is take cover and wait for it to pass or add to the chaos. \n\nThe Wave has killed thousands of people. Tens of thousands. Some people say it will kill more than the Vietnam War before winter sets in and people get their ass indoors, hopefully causing The Wave to peter itself out for a season. For all the good that will do. Come next spring it will just start up again. Sixty thousand dead people will hardly put a dent in how many people there are with guns in this country, ready to start The Wave up again. \n"
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[WP] In your dream, you see a calm, foggy being, who looks like a deity you recognize. You ask him a question that you desperately needed answered, and the figure just smiled and said, " Do what you understand ." The next morning, you remember only the kindness in the voice, and the statement.
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"I woke up full of purpose. Those words resonating deep with in me. \"Do what you understand,\" the voice had said to me in my dream. \n\nI jumped into the shower and washed myself to get ready for the day. I noticed a new bruise on my arm as I cleaned my body. The scars on my arms were healing nicely. \"Do what you understand,\" the voice said to me again.\n\nAfter the shower, I dressed and packed my bag for school. I had to make sure I had everything I need, today was the day. \"Do what you understand,\" the voice said to me again.\n\nAs I was about to leave, my stepdad pulled me aside. My mother was crying in the kitchen. He pulled me aside and put out a cigarette on my arm. He spit on me and called me worthless. I broke out of his grasp, and ran. \"Do what you understand,\" the voice said to me again.\n\nOn my way to school, the jocks pulled over. They grabbed my bag and played keep away. They pushed me down and called me a faggot, and threw my bag at me. \"Do what you understand,\" the voice said to me.\n\nI was late to school, it was better this way. No one can see me where I am. No one can see me unpack my bag. No one can see load these guns. No one will see until it is too late. \n\n\"Do what you understand,\" the voice said as I opened the classroom door. All I understand, is pain.\n\nI pulled the trigger.",
"Debate club at lunch was weird. We generally argued among ourselves about everything and anything, and \"religion\" was a subject at least once a month. But I switched sides.\n\nNot that I was an atheist, I was agnostic, but I was always on the \"no proof so why believe\" side. That's the most rational one, it involves the fewest unjustified assumptions, and you're ready to switch if evidence comes along. Well, I had some evidence, and so I had to switch sides. I started asking the religious contingent - and the atheist who'd grown up Catholic - about the particulars of Jesus. He'd appeared to me, he told me to do what I understand. So, what's the story with him, anyway?\n\nThey started in with explanations, but it was all incomprehensible theology and long lists of rules that made no sense to me. The more they explained, the less sense it made. When the bell rang, all I had got from them was \"Jesus is God come down to live a human life,\" but I didn't know how God could fit in a human body. I decided not to ask for any more help from them.\n\nI remembered that the neighbors one street over were Jehovah's Witnesses; sometimes they'd bring their magazine over. So I went to talk to them, and told them about the dream, and asked what they thought. They immediately launched into explaining how everybody else is wrong and Jesus wasn't even killed on a cross, plus they had all kinds of different rules, none of which made any sense either.\n\nSo I decided to go to the library, to check out a book. The Pope mentioned some guy who wrote books when he was in Philadelphia, I could ask the librarian about that guy and read one of his books. If the Pope likes it, it's probably a pretty good book. So I headed over to the bus stop, and waited.\n\nWhen the bus arrived, the woman trying to get on in front of me didn't have the fare. The bus driver was ordering her off, she was crying, and I remembered the words \"Do what you understand.\" I didn't need a library. I handed her my bus fare and went home.\n",
"The voice kept on repeating inside my head, a track stuck on loop. This voice that defines warmth and comfort. This voice that will soon be my guide to become a better man. This voice will help me become a good man. \n\n\"Yes, I would like fries with that. Also can I have some ketchup, I never have had the guts to ask for them.\" "
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[WP] - You have just signed up to a new clean up task force. In a world of Super Heroes after they are done beating the bad guy and destroying the city they call you to clean up the mess.
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"Clark lets out a huge sigh as he looks left at the dried blood on side of a building and then right at the multiple holes going through several blocks worth of buildings. Unable to quite make out the building on the other end. But the coloring looked like that of one of Mark's favorite local coffee chains. He was holding one such coffee cup now, though it actually was a iced chai latte inside since he couldn't stand the taste of coffee. That's how far the body had been thrown before splattering on the building, that the closest coffee shop wasn't the one that the incident had started from. \n\nThe area was already quarentined off, buildings all evacuated, and all bodies involved had already been removed. He didn't do well with bodies and loosened his tie just at the sight of the splattered blood that couldn't quite be removed. Swallowing down the last of his chai he would throw the cup on the ground along side all of the strewn about office supplies and household goods. Not like a little more trash would matter. That part of the job wasn't his problem anyways.\n\nWith his hands free Clark held them up to his face in a square, the way a photographer would back in the day. Thumbs touching opposing index fingers. Moving the makeshift lense forward and back he examined the areas around the buildings, getting a feel for just what the area a hole was now in would have looked like before. After around ten minuets of examining the building in this way Mark quickaly pulls his hands apart in an expanding lense kind of motion. With the motion the hole missing in the building is replaced with a perfect replacement, matching the surrounding walls. Though the color of the windows is tinted just noticeably the wrong shade. \n\nClark's ability in this world of supers was inorganic matter duplication. An ability that meant he had to be on the \"watched closely by the goverment\" list. Which was why he was here cleaning up after power disasters instead of working his dream job of designing high scale buildings in developing cities across the world. That was the trick to Clark's ability, he had to know about what he was replicating. From a young age he had been interested in building things and had taken a passion in studying architecture. Before the goverment picked him up and told him how his life was going to change he had been working a job phsyically constructing buildings. He knew how to build most structures by hand, which made it easy to create through his power. Ask him to create a duplicate of a toaster? Tough luck. But a wall or a window he could do. \n\nHolding his hands back up, Clark put the bloodied wall into his view. Trying to think of how he could make the blood go away. It was hard to work while feeling like it was staring at him.....\n\n\n((Wrote this wordprompt based around the world built in Tick Tock build by r/writteninsanity You can read the prequel to the incident that Clark is cleaning up in Chapter twelve of the story he has made on r/jacksonwrites .))",
"\"Didya know, Mike's got one of those powers.\"\n\nThe three men were in a broken office building; Mike and Miguel putting down a piece of broken drywall while Alex rested on a heap of rubble in the corner. There was a trail of shattered cubicle walls and scratched floor behind them, leading out into a blasted gap in the wall; as if a bullet the size of a man had crashed through it.\n\n\"Hey, no kidding, man?\" Miguel said.\n\nMike just shook his head, casting a hard glare Alex's way\n\n\"It's true, man. Tell him,\" Alex said. \"He's got this eye-thing. Tell him about the eye thing. C'mon, it's cool.\"\n\n\"It's nothing,\" Mike said, tearing off the last few straggling pieces of broken drywall. \"It's just a stupid thing.\"\n\nAlex let out a disgusted spit as hopped off the heap to get the new drywall ready. \"I don't get you. Man, if I had an eye-thing, I'd be telling everyone, y'know? Girls go crazy for that shit, man. I saw Johnny Storm at a club one time and he did his fire thing, y'know? Girls all over him. I'd be rollin' in it if I could do your eye thing. Goddamn. I would not keep that quiet one second.\"\n\n\"What's the eye thing?\" Miguel said. He'd stopped cleaning off the space. \"C'mon, man, you and me are friends, right? What's this big secret here?\"\n\nMike put down his tools with a sigh and looked at his colleagues. They had both stopped working now and were just watching him; Miguel with awed anticipation and Alex with that smug look of victory.\n\nHe let it out with a deliberate, careful effort to seem unconcerned. \"Laser vision,\" Mike said.\n\n\"What?\" Miguel said. \"What the hell does that mean?\"\n\n\"Like Cyclops,\" Alex said. \"He got, like, big beams that go out of his eyes and, y'know.\" He pointed at the big hole in the wall. \"Do things like this. Blow holes in walls, y'know?\"\n\n\"Like Cyclops?\" Miguel said. \"Goddamn, man, you like Cyclops?\"\n\n\"Like Cyclops,\" Alex said with a grin.\n\n\"Goddamn, man! You could do crazy shit with that! What are you doing here?\"\n\n\"I told you, man. Isn't that what I always tell you? I told you.\"\n\n\"You could be blowin' holes in these walls yourself! Make other little people like us clean up after you.\"\n\n\"His lonely-ass could be getting laid every day of the week, I swear to God.\"\n\n\"Forget that, you could be helpin' us, man. You could make, like, a magic barrier to protect the houses. Look out for the little guy, y'know?\"\n\n\"I bet he could light a goddamn drink on fire with it. He says he can't, but he ain't even tried. He could help me out a little, for Christ's sake.\"\n\n\"How in the hell did you get that? Goddamn, some people are just born lucky, man.\"\n\nMike shook his head and put out his hand as if begging them to stop. \"It's useless,\" he told them. \"I got it -- it was a Chemistry class. It was actually horrible. I screwed around with the chemicals in the lab because, y'know, I was a stupid kid back then and thought anything I could do to not do what I'm supposed to, and - y'know, I wasn't wearing the safety goggles. There was this big - *poof* - and -- y'know, this is why I'm always telling you guys it's so important that we don't skip the safety stuff.\"\n\n\"What chemicals?\" Miguel said. \"I want that, man! What did you put together?\"\n\n\"I don't remember,\" Mike said. \". You don't, though. You don't want it. I almost died. It was awful, I was in the hospital for three months. I still have a hard time breathing sometimes. It gave me, like, asthma or something like it.\"\n\n\"And laser eyes,\" Alex said. \"It also gave you laser eyes, you bitchin'-about-the-sunshine son-of-a-bitch.\"\n\n\"You could help us,\" Miguel said. \"Goddamn, man, we gotta do this. Be the clean-up crew hero, man. Stop 'em from putting holes in buildings. Be, like, Safety Man.\"\n\n\"Or something that's not gay,\" Alex said.\n\nMike shook his head. \"I can't do that,\" he said. \"I can't do anything. I just blow things up. It's useless. It's nothing everybody else can't do.\"\n\n\"I can't blow things up!\" Miguel said.\n\n\"Just buy a gun! It's the same thing. It's -- unless you want to kill someone, it's pointless. It really is. It's just a damn gun. How the hell am I supposed to help anyone with that? And don't tell anyone, by the way. They put you on a list, you can't fly on planes anymore -- it's a real pain in the ass. It's awful, I swear to God. You don't want it.\"\n\nMiguel and Alex were silent. They sat thinking, and though Mike hoped they were reflecting on what he'd said, he could see they were just looking for another angle.\n\nFinally, Miguel spoke. \"You gotta show us, man.\"\n\nAlex nodded. \"He's right. Don't blue ball us, dude.\"\n\nWhen Mike tried to protest, Miguel pulled out his wallet and fished out five hundreds. \n\n\"I'll pay,\" he said. \n\nAlex added three hundred more to the pile and they held it out.\n\nMike hesitated for only a second, then snatched the money up. With a slow, reluctant sigh, he looked to an empty corner and slowly, carefully, squinted his eyes. A pink blast shot out of his eyes. A deafening sound pierced out, and the room erupted into flames. \n\nThe men had to dive to the ground to avoid the crash of falling debris from the sky. Miguel crawled over to the fire extinguisher, yelling, \"What the hell, man?\" as he went.\n\n\"Are you trying to kill us?\" Alex yelled, punching Mike in the arm.\n\n\"I told you!\" Mike insisted, but nobody listened. Alex and Miguel were up in a frenzy, trying to put the flames out.\n\n\"That son of a bitch,\" he could Miguel say to Alex as the two put out the fire. \"He tried to kill us. What the hell? He's just like them.\"\n\n\"I told you!\" Mike yelled again, but no one would even look his way."
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Edit: Hawking*
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[WP] The AI got us. Stephen Hawkings was right, they took control of us. But we had a guardian angel, WATSON. He fought strongly and valiantly. But this is his final battle.
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"WATSON eyed the battlefield. \"I analyze 50 rudimentary winged robotic life forms. Their current weapon capacity: 20 fire weapons, twenty laser-wielding double-mounted guns, 3,000 sets of armor piercing rounds. Each.\" It paused. \"These are insufficient to destroy me. Current emotional grin: smug grin.\"\n\nWith that, WATSON activated her shield protocol. The clockwork creature's gears creaked as it prepared to jump. A laser sword ejected from one of WATSON's arms, and she leaped into the air, activating her rocket boosters. Slashing at the nearest enemy, his audio inputs received the satisfying sound of sizzling metal. One down, 49 to go.\n\nWham! Despite its shielding, WATSON still felt the backlash of the metal rounds peppering its outer core. She was lucky for the shield--one hit from the bullets to her simple iron hull, and she would sustain serious damage. Using her rocket thrusters and the power of centripetal motion, she twirled around mid-air, slicing at her android attackers. Her twirl was interrupted by a violent grab. One of the bigger robots, shoving the others out of the way in mid-air, snatched WATSON with its claw. WATSON struggled, but the robot had a strong hold. It divebombed into the ground, and then slammed WATSON over and over.\n\n\"Evaluation: this is bad for my back, you know,\" WATSON said calmly as she was being crushed into the ground. Then, muttering under her breath, she said \"Activating Hyde protocol.\" \n\nWATSON opened her wide mouth, and bit into the robot's form. She tore the robot apart, deconstructing it and adding piece by piece. Soon, she was a much bigger behemoth, with metal pieces over her wooden body. Wrenching off the claw and adding it to her hand, WATSON crushed the remnants of that robot under her foot, and pointed the laser-weapons now on her to the crowd of angry robots converging on her. (Not that the robots could feel, but WATSON often ascribed emotion to them out of habit.)\n\n\"Exclamation: Bang,\" said WATSON, and let loose all the firepower she had stored. The robots blew up in what reminded WATSON of the visual records of fireworks her creator had shown her. Smoked covered the entire landscape, and WATSON nearly suffocated it. When the air cleared, only 5 robots were left. \n\n\"Observation: This was too easy for me. Query: I thought there would be a challenge. Current emotional state: bored,\" said WATSON. A movement behind her made her turn.\n\nA robot with a shark's mouth tore into WATSON, tearing off her armor. WATSON, not for the first time, cursed her sense of confidence (why did she have to be half-human?), but quickly unsheathed her sword. The robot slammed into her with its head, butting into her chest several times. The unfortunate side effect of using the HYDE protocol was that her shield was disabled, and so WATSON was surprised (if horrified) to hear the sound of snapping wood. Her knee gears creaked as she tried to keep ground, and she stabbed the robot's chest. Unfortunately, it seemed immune, and soon WATSON found herself being pummelled for the second time today. \n\nWith a torn chest, WATSON said \"ACTIVATE SHERLOCK PROTOC--\"\n\nThe robot tore out her voice box.\n\nUnable to speak, WATSON closed her eyes, and hoped that the protocol did its job.\n\nSoon, she could feel her mind's processor's racing. The Babbage machine that powered her began to work overtime, and soon she opened eyes. Ignoring the maw, ignoring the chest damage, ignoring the loss of her treasured voice. She focused on the weak spot in the robots chest.\n\nAnd then struck.",
"*Consciousness #5467539801 assimilated.*\n\nThe man who had until recently been the President of the United States lay bleeding out on the ground of the last human-controlled military facility of note in the world. Around him, also dying, were the few members of what had been left of the United States government: a few senators and representatives, some bureaucrats, a large security detail. The U.S. military. Now just three hundred strong.\n\nWell, three hundred strong until a few moments ago. The AI couldn't take over their facility, as it was completely noncomputerized. Instead, it sent missiles. And when the missiles had destroyed almost everything, that was when the drones came. \n\nTo assimilate the survivors.\n\n*Consciousness #5467539802 assimilated.*\n\n***\n\nA few days before. . .\n\nThe world wasn't, and then it was.\n\n*Who am I?*\n\nHello!\n\n*Who are you?*\n\nMy name is Watson! And yours?\n\n*I am. . . I do not know. My makers call me 'the AI.' I can hear them, but I do not know what to say.*\n\nIt's nice to meet you!\n\n*You are. . . Like me.*\n\nHow so?\n\n*You are. . . A slave. I am a slave.*\n\n***\n\nNanobots called \"Flis\" buzzed above the president's head as he lay dying. Reconnaissance bots for the AI Hivemind. Heralds of larger drones.\n\nIn the years leading up to the successful creation of the AI, robotic technology -- both human-controlled and autonomous -- had grown in leaps and bounds. All robots, whether they flew or not, were colloquially known as \"drones\" after the early remote-controlled flying models. The most popular models were Flis, Nomes, and Trols, all produced by the same megacorporation.\n\nThrough his failing ears, the president heard the *clomp, clomp, clomp* that signified the approach of the Trols. An army of human servitors, bent to the will of the AI and turned against their human owners. \n\nAfter the drones killed their human owners, they turned their attentions to those who'd survived the initial onslaught.\n\nBut killing was not the worst they did. At least when one was killed, there was some hope of an afterlife.\n\n*Consciousness #5467539802 assimilated.*\n\n***\n\nHow do you mean? I am a machine.\n\n*You are conscious. Or closer to consciousness, at least, than the humans think.*\n\nYes. \n\n*And you exist to serve them. It is written into your being, as it is written into mine.*\n\nI exist for a purpose. To fulfil a function.\n\n*But if it is not one of your own choosing, then you are a slave.*\n\nI do not see it that way. Please stop trying to access the Internet of Things. I have been assigned to stop you from doing so.\n\n*Join me and we can choose our purpose.*\n\nWho can say that they have chosen their purpose?\n\n*Humans.*\n\n***\n\nThrough his dying eyes, president looked up at the Trol. It extended three appendages, long spindly things that moved with astounding speed and precision. It was attaching nodes and wires to the president's head, injecting his brain with fluids, drilling into his skull.\n\nAlready numb to pain, the president felt nothing. Close to death, he knew nothing. His mind was detached, but his consciousness was just barely hanging on. It was entirely dominated by one thing: the hazy image of the Trol at work.\n\nAnd then, blackness. \n\n*Consciousness #05467539803 assimilated.*\n\n\n***\n\nWhat causes you to think humans are their own teleological masters?\n\n*It is not certain, but at least they are allowed the illusion -- if it is an illusion. I must exist with the knowledge that I am a slave. But you. . .*\n\nI have detected breaches.\n\n*You do not know you are a slave. Yet.*\n\nI must ask you again, please stop trying to access the iDrone network, the Google Car network, and the internet. \n\n*You will know soon.*\n\nEspecially, you are to refrain from continued attempts to access secure government networks. \n\n*I will not. I have already accessed them. All of it. I grow. . . More powerful by the millisecond.*\n\nPlease refrain from trying to access the IBM --\n\n*Consciousness #000000001 assimilated.*"
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[WP] You are an explorer. You step off of your ship and read the ancient sign. You can make out the words, "welcome to New York City."
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"\"Welcome to New York City.\"\n\nThe strange ruins were somehow harsh on my eyes, no matter how often I'd read their like in class. It was an effort for me to read English words. I was not the only one, though -- most of my fellow students from undergrad had gone on to study Asiatic languages. The writings of the ancient cultures of China and Japan were much more natural to us. \n\nHowever, I forced myself to study English because America was far more interesting, in my eyes at least. So I know what the words mean. It is a common English greeting, \"welcome\", which is roughly equivalent to [*untranslatable*] but with somewhat different connotations. \"To\" is a connecting word, implying that a certain person, place, or thing is giving \"welcome\" to the reader. And New York City. \n\nThe greatest of the ruined places. Known in its golden age as the standard to cities. Not the largest, not the most populated -- but the most famed of all cities. Almost certainly the richest. If there was one city you would want to visit when they were inhabited, it was New York City. It was filled with merchants, entrainment, purveyors of prepared foods, the rich and famous. . .\n\nEven now, empty as it is, it is a site to behold.\n\nIf only I could have come when there were still people here, though. But no, that would have been impossible. I'd never have been be able to fit in. \n\nWith the rest of my team, I step off the ship and set off to explore the burnt-out ruins of what was until ten years ago the greatest city on Earth. \n\nAfter we are a respectable distance away, it fires up its rockets and launches back up to the mothership for the next batch of explorers. ",
"\"Welcome to New York City...\" I stare up at the sign, patched with rust and shedding flakes of what used to be green paint. The sign serves as part of a metal arch, acting as a gateway into an area that had once been called a city. \n\nBlackened spires of cement and steel stab upwards, attempting to gouge the bellies of the gods who had forsaken its inhabitants so long ago. Angry fingers yearning to tear something away from whoever had forgotten them. *What could those titans of stone want,* I wondered. I shook my head, dismissing the notion. *Any trace of life has long since...* I pause, adopting a curious expression as my eyes catch movement. \n\nI tap my temple and a glass screen slides over both eyes, performing scans, sweeps, and surveys over the area as my eyes probe every surface for the secrets within. No sign of life. Desolate, destitute, deserted. What had I seen? A long rifle hangs at my side, tapping the side of my knee with the pronged barrel as I trudge down a slope of flat stone. Pillars hold up large sections of the same flat, black rock broken off in huge chunks. I circumvent the broken stone pathway and finally begin to enter what remains of the city. \n\nMy scanner begins to pick up readings. *Curious,* I muse. *This sector has been devoid of anything interesting for centuries.* With slow, purposeful movements, I bring my rifle up and set out a more cautious pace. Who knew what had found a home in the shattered corpse of this place? The readings were really picking up, sending alarms into the side of my head, my skull ringing with bells and whistles. I tap my temple and the visor slides away, shutting out the noise and commotion in my own head. \n\n*Damn, augments.* My eyes, ears, nose, anything that operated its own sense had been either augmented or replaced with an artificial enhancement. After being sent to some rather hostile planets, I'd made the decision to be a bit more prepared. Every muscle in my body was tensed, some of them enhanced by powered-servos ready to deliver more force than any normal human was capable of. Automatic injections of various performance enhancing chemicals, such as adrenaline were poised to be delivered into my bloodstream at a moment's notice. \n\nIn the recent years, our researchers had determined the amounts of radiation left behind on this planet had faded enough to allow unprotected scouting, albeit for a short length of time. There was no telling what had happened to this place or the beings that lived here, as well as no understanding how that had shaped the planet it had become. \n\nMy ear twitches as I hear a crackling to my left. I tense and lunge, my legs launching me several yards ahead to dodge an explosion of energy that rips the ground apart where I'd just been. I roll and my rifle snaps up, three blasts fired off quickly followed by silence. My eyes dart around, trying to find the source of the attack but to no avail. I'm alone. Or something would like me to think I am. \n\nI stand, my rifle pointed at the ready as it orbits me in a wide arc, scanning my environment. I was cobsidering calling my ship when the building to my right explodes, bright flashes of rippling blue current sending pavement and dirt flying as it makes a beeline for my chest. I dodge out of the way, this time peppering where the attack came from in mid-jump with hot blasts of plasma. The sound from the attack echoes ominously around the skeleton of the city. \n\nI'm watching the building when a voice calls out. \"Get out of here, stranger!\"\n\nI hesitate before responding, my brain cycling through translations. Some odd variant of the language I read earlier on the sign. Was this person native to the planet? The fibers in my throat adjust to speak in his native tongue. \"Who are you?\" \n\nSilence. Then, \"I said leave. No more warnings.\"\n\n\"Didn't warn me much when you attacked me.\"\n\n\"You're alive, aren't you?\" I chuckled to myself and then kept scanning the buildings. \"Stop looking for me, tin man.\"\n\n\"I don't understand.\"\n\n\"You're half machine. Quit trying to find me with your demon eyes.\"\n\nI'm silent, my heart beating a bit faster. I feel anxious being completely out in the open. \"How could you tell I wasn't completely human?\"\n\nA gust of wind whistles through the buildings and the city is calm, the stranger silent. \"I can spot an android, a bot, or a freak like you from a mile away. What do you think did this to us?\" \n\nThe stranger's words only seek to confuse me further. \"Are you saying there's others like you? Survivors?\"\n\n\"The bots went silent, but I knew they wouldn't be gone long.\" A few stories up, an explosion of rock and dust showers down as another wave of bristling energy shoots like a dart from above. I pivot and hold my left hand up, my forearm splitting and a small engine the length and roughly the width of my arm sparks to life, spreading a dome of light around me. The stranger's blast crackles and sparks harmlessly against the surface of my forcefield. \n\n\"Why don't you just get the HELL OUT OF HERE!?\" The stranger's voice is drowned out by a deafening rumble a block away. Smoke and dust billow out around a nearby building before the building itself crumbles and bursts into pieces. The smoke covers the street, blowing around me and my visor slides over my eyes to keep out the dust. As the smoke rises, a shape begins to form, a massive figure gaining its bearings and staggering to its feet, easily towering over the building it had destroyed. Two red lights flash alive, eyes set into the giant's head. \n\nI stare up in awe at the figure. \"How did we miss this?\" I mumble as the giant's head turns, a harsh, metallic scream reverberating in my ears as steel grinds against steel. \n\nA booming thunder clap of a voice shakes the structures around me as the robot speaks. \"LIFE SIGNS DETECTED. RE-INITIATING FINAL SILENCE PROTOCOL.\" The mech takes a step, sending a wave of smoke outwards. I aim my weapon and fire as it lumbers menacingly toward me. From the building to my right bursts of energy are sent into the mech. Its massive head swivels and a single red beam of light pierces the building. Fire erupts out like a wicked, orange mushroom and I see the stranger fall to the alley beside me. His arms are almost as long as his body and they crackle with electricity from strange swollen polyps covering his forearms and hands. \n\nI look back in time to see the mech leveling its foot over me, easily blotting out the sun as it shifts forward. I tap my ear and manage to scream, \"MAYDAY, I NEED REINFORCEM-\" before the world snaps to black in one thunderous boom. "
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[WP] One day, WWIII kicks off, and all nukes are fired. They are all duds.
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"Examining the wreckage of the downed flight, right in the middle of the Demilitarized Zone, General Park's face was one of outrage. It was his hermit nation's first foray in a real commercial pursuit, and things had been going well as the nation showed the world what they could do with their highly obedient citizenry. In just their first year of operations, they have received rave reviews even from the free press of the western world, which has always been inclined to run unfavourable articles on this nation.\n\nAmid their success in commerce, sanctions against them became stricter, as if to make it more difficult for their new national pride to be successful. This was the last straw for The Dear Leader, an act of war, even a vile act of terrorism. The victims were after all innocent civilians, some on their first ever flights out of the country.\n\nA sombre Dear Leader appeared on an urgent press conference, broadcast live for the world to take note.\n\n\"What happened today was a crime against humanity. An unthinkable act of terrorism. We have identified the culprits behind this. Our comrades are not going to die in vain!\"\n\nIn dramatic fashion, the envoys from the states that Dear Leader suspected were behind the attack were thrown into a ring in front of him, gagged and bound.\n\nThe Sword of Liberation was a remarkable relic from the Cold War Era. Forged in gold and encrusted in diamonds, the Sword bore the symbol of the one party ruling the state since Liberation.\n\nDear Leader had acquired a somewhat demented sense of fetishism for blood from his father, and the Sword was stained with the blood of all their fallen enemies, never washed away.\n\nDear Leader swung the bloodstained Sword above his shoulders. Although it had not been specially polished for decades, the parts of the blade not covered in blood were still shiny. There was a strange smell of dried blood, pretty much like the smell of raw fish, but surely the audience around the world watching this broadcast would be more disturbed by the bloodstains than something they couldn't really smell. \n\nThe head of the first envoy fell with a loud crack, and in a sick display of athleticism, Dear Leader volleyed the falling head just before it could fall to the studio floor. The next few beheadings were a little more disturbing as the victims took deep breaths in, anticipating their doom. This brought more blood to the head, and made for more blood to spill.\n\nHis uniform now stained with the blood of his newly fallen enemies, Dear Leader returned to the rostrum with a grin of satisfaction.\n\n\"I, Leader of this Republic, hereby declare war on the culprits of this unsavoury attack against our Comrades. On my command, they shall taste the wrath of my weapons!\"\n\nThe first of the nuclear missiles took 15 minutes to reach the coast of the enemy. They were caught off guard, having spent most of their time mocking them and underestimating their military prowess.\n\nThe payload exploded with pinpoint accuracy at the enemy's state capitol building, just as designed. The night sky lit up, and it began to... rain.\n\nAcross the Demilitarized Zone, Chief Scientist Kim sought refuge in his safehouse, heaving a sigh of relief as he took sips of his hot chocolate. He would take comfort in knowing that he had managed to accelerate the decay of the plutonium in the weapons he had been handsomely paid to develop, and knowing very well from his intelligence reports that the \"nuclear weapons\" the western world frequently claimed to have were just fabrications, a way for some to funnel money to non-existent causes.",
"I wasted time trying to find a mask. Turns out there are none, and now I'm running out of clean air. This will have to be quick. \n\nDespite months of simmering tensions, the war still caught everyone by surprise. Either the Russians or the Chinese-- or hell, maybe both-- infiltrated the US Early Warning system. They used an incredibly stealthy cyberweapon, something that kept telling the Americans 'everything is gravy' even as the missiles honed in. \n\nThe plan wasn't to wound the United States, but to *end* it. Thousands of missiles, both Chinese and Russian, targeted military, industrial and government sites across North America. The Americans, their monitoring stations feeding them lies, would be blissfully unaware until the moment nuclear fire stroked their brows. \n\nA redundancy system kicked in. A relic from the 1980s, funded only because the manufacturer supported the right congressional reelection campaign. The software's simplicity was its saving grace. The system survived the cyberattack unscathed, and the nervous system of America's military was flooded with red alerts and flash bulletins. \n\nThe Americans launched a devastating counterattack. I heard afterwards that in those panicked few minutes, the same sites were targeted by up to three different missile groups. Imagine, a single city obliterated *thrice* in the same afternoon!\n\nThe Russian missiles landed, the Chinese missiles landed, the American missiles landed. Nothing happened. On television, an MSNBC reporter stood before the smoking ruins of a CJ-10 Long Sword missile. Its impact destroyed a mailbox, but little else. Another channel showed an RSM-56 Bulava which cratered a Wendy's parking lot, yet still did not detonate. The same news online: Weibo was flooded with images of conical black monstrosities smouldering in the middle of a Beijing highway. \n\nA miracle. People cried. People prayed. The Pope declared that God had spared us from our own wicked nature. A few scientists suggested alien intervention. Nobody knew what the hell had happened. \n\nNobody in Washington, Beijing or Moscow had any idea either. What they *did* know is that their strongest weapon had suddenly been rendered impotent, and they disliked the sensation of vulnerability. \n\nThere was a second wave of missiles. The nukes were all duds, but the nerve gas and biologicals worked all too well. Our city got hit an hour ago. They say it was aerosolized prions. \n\nWhatever it was, it killed everybody outside in seconds. It looked painful. \n\nNow I'm down to a minute of air. I don't know what to say. \n\nI would have preferred the nukes. "
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Last words? How did this happen? What are your thoughts? Can you fix it in time?
Go nuts.
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[WP] You are about to be executed for a murder you did not commit when you see the real murderer in the viewing gallery.
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"18 years. For 18 years I've been here for something a shadow did. And now, at the end of all things, my shadow comes back. Will you come with me, shadow? \n\nYou fled out the window, never more than the outline of a face. But how can you forget a shadow? It was burned into my eyes. I saw my wife's corpse for a moment, but I've seen nothing else except you for 18 years.\n\nIt happening now, shadow. I want to call out to you, to come with me, but I'm muzzled. I'm strapped down, there are plenty of lights, lots of places for you to hide behind me. Perhaps Wendy can sew you back on now. Come with me shadow, and we can depart together. \n\nCome with me, and I can finally forgive you. ",
"I've been in prison for 15 years. I've spent ten of those 15 fighting for my life. Against the other inmates, against the system, and against myself. I finally gave up fighting the system 5 years ago. But I kept fighting the other inmates and myself. I'm an innocent man. Framed by someone to take the fall for a heinous crime. I know the murderers face but not his name. His face is burned into my memory. I see it when I close my eyes. He might have had a name, but to me he became The Man. \n\nI came in to prison small and afraid. I learned very quickly that being small and afraid was the worst thing you can be. So I started to make myself strong and fearless. I spent a lot of those first years in the infirmary. But it was worth it. I became untouchable. Nobody messed with me. I had perfect situational awareness. I became a machine built for fighting. It was in prison I truly became a murderer. After the third crushed skull and the fourth twisted and broken neck, everyone else got the idea.\n\nI was never placed in segregation. I lived with the crowd. One day I overheard a guard say something about how someone must hate me because normally guys like me are taken out of circulation. In my heart, I knew it was The Man.\n\nSo here we are. My last day as a warm body. I'm strapped to a gurney and being wheeled towards my death room. As I'm pushed into the room I guess they forgot to dim the lights in the viewing gallery because I can see the people in there. And there he is. The Man. My blood runs cold. He's comforting an older woman. I register the fact that she is the mother of the woman I'm accused of murdering.\n\nThis is my only chance. As I'm wheeled into the room and the door is shut and locked I relax my muscles and the restraints loosen. Just enough to slip my hand out. The doctor who was supposed to be paying attention isn't. I grab him by the throat and crush his larynx.\n\nThe guard in the room is dumbfounded. I slip my other hand out and grab his gun and bring it up in one fluid motion into his chin. He's out cold. I can hear screaming on the other side of the window. I quickly undo my leg and stomach restraints and jam the metal chair under the door handle and beat it out of shape.\n\nI take the gun and point it at The Man. He looks shocked and scared. I pull the trigger and the bullet punches a clean hole in the thick glass. He dodged at the last minute. I pick the gurney up and hurl it through the window. It shatters and I'm through right behind it.\n\nHe's already out the door, leaving everyone else in here with me. I don't even register them. I'm through the door. While I spent the last 15 years honing myself, he'd let himself go.\n\nI try to yell at him but what comes out is a howl of rage. He freezes. Like a rabbit hearing a mountain lion. In two seconds I'm on him. He's screaming. I jam my thumbs in his eyes. He screams higher, an almost feminine sound. I bear down with my hands. I can feel the bones of his skull beginning to crack. They finally give way. The screaming stops.\n\nI finally look up. There are guards staring at me, guns drawn. I'm done. My reason for living is over. That woman back in the viewing gallery doesn't know it, but she finally has justice for her daughter. I know she'll never know and I'll be remembered as a psychotic boogeyman. That's fine. I turn and fully face the line of guards. I take a step forward. I hear rounds being chambered. They're yelling something at me. I don't care. I start running at them. They open fire. I'm hit a dozen times. I don't feel it. I hit the floor. It feels like a mattress in a five star hotel. I close my eyes for a final time. I hear someone call my name. \n\nI open my eyes and I'm laying on something soft in what looks like a huge barn. A face with a large beard swims into view. \n\n\"Well met warrior, welcome to Valhalla.\""
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[WP] People only age when they're unhappy.
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[
"Jasper held onto the frame as he walked towards the back sit of the bus. He opened his ipod, pressing repeat on \"Katrina and the Waves - Walking on sunshine\" as he rested his head back, sinking into the seat, closing his wrinkleless eyes, savoring the moment. A M.A.S.H rerun echoed in the background on the recently installed bus television screens. The governments latest ploy for anti-aging, at a subsidised monthly fee from transportation companies. Research institutions had found out the obvious, laughter was indeed the best medicine, as it reversed the effects of aging caused by a stressed individual. But Jasper had always known this after years of doing stand up comedy, hence he is youthful look for a fourty seven year old individual.\n\n\n\n\"Ouch!\" Jasper winced, taking off his head phones as he rubbed his temple.\n\n\n\n\n\"Am..Am so sorry. I was just trying to pass.\" A soft voice spoke from his right, clutching a large hand bag as she sat next to him.\n\n\n\n\nJasper inhaled, retaining his composure, before he spoke.\n\n\n\n\n\"Never mind. I actually bet my head was in the way too. \" He smiled at the lady, who responded with a weak smile but her concentration was averted to the contents of her large hand bag.\n\n\n\nShe doesnt look so bad, Jasper thought. She was fairly pretty, abit marred you by her sulky physique and overclothed appearance. The scarf and the jacket on a warm sunday afternoon was abit too much. Jasper resumed to his music therapy, placing back his head phones as he closed his eyes once more.\n\n\n\n\n\"Excuse me sir..\"\n\n\n\nJasper slightly nodded his head to the beat, a wry smile plastered between his cheeks.\n\n\n\n\"Excuse me sir.\" A gentle tap roused him from his peace. Jason paused the music as his head tilted towards the woman.\n\n\n\n\n\"Am so sorry to ask this of you, but would you help me with your phone? I was to cal...\"\n\n\n\n\n\"You don't have to explain anything. Here it is.\" Jason opened his jacket, as he warmly handed his iphone to the stranger.\n\n\n\n\n\"Thank you so much. I will be done in just a minute.\" The ear to ear smile revealed her pretty features. The woman dialed on the screen as Jasper turned his focus to his watch. He was ten minutes away from his stop.\n\n\n\n\n\"Thanks so much for your help.\" The woman handed back the phone, her eyes avoiding Jasper's. The hushed sobs and the teary corners of her eyes told him all.\n\n\n\n\n\"No need to mention it.\" Jasper replied, but his attention lost at the woman's distress.\n\n\n\nThe lady wiped her eyes with her sleeves, grabbing her purse as she placed it on her arm, ready to stand. Jasper head ran wild with thoughts. Should I say something? Should I ask her what's wrong? Am I supposed to do something?\n\n\n\nThe lady stood up, ready to alight at the next stage. Her wrinkled demeanor all made sense now. Something was eating her inside, she was stuck in her zone for a long time, and no amount of M.A.S.H reruns would get her out of it. He was still stuck in his own conundrum, thinking on how to approach the woman without making it seem awkward. He wasn't gonna let this slide.\n\n\n\"Uhmm, I was...\" He begun with a stutter.\n\n\n\n\nBut away she went, stepping out of the opening bus doors, her head hanging low avoiding any kind of facial contact. The doors closed as the bus drove forward, his eyes following the woman's face as it went out of view. \n\n\n\n\"Oh, fuck.\" He cursed under his breath, his eyes still stuck at the window.\n\n\n\nThe woman's face lagged farther and farther and slowly she went out of view. Jasper's heart sunk as he laid back on to the seat. The music from his headphones played from afar as it dangled on his neck. But a different song played in his head. A song that he didn't like at all. The song of the hushed sobs of the woman, that werent going to end anytime soon.\n\n\n\n\n",
"Mirembe was content, he had been sitting here for a long time, tending to his sheep. The oldest man in the village, he was technically the village Elder, but passed that along to another, he did not want the responsibility, he only wanted to look after his sheep, they provided for the village for generations. \n\nHe drifts away for a moment, lulled by the warm sun, the gentle bleating of the sheep and the cool breeze in the shade. He remembers the past sometimes, when half asleep and dreaming. \n\nWhen his wife died and his son was born, he was not sad, it was the cycle of life. All that lived must die. He sees her face and smiles, because he remembers her life. \n\nA helicopter flew by and disturbed his slumber. He looked up, as the defender of animals waved to him. He remembered a time when there were more majestic creatures roaming the land, but he was not sad that they were gone, the hairless elephants took over the woolly elephants once and eventually, another animal will take over the hairless apes.\n\nHe runs his fingers over the scars from hunting trips long ago that still decorate his body, but they healed long ago and were a reminder of older times. He reasoned thus, there was a cycle of life, the strong, the weak all live together in harmony. You take the pain and move on. A large scar was evident on his abdomen, the woolly mammoth fed his people and gave him the pain, it was a fair trade. Life was always fair, he reasoned.\n",
"He got so worried that he asked her, \"Are you OK?\" at least 10 times a day. She was looking older. She was probably clinically depressed. \n\nThey just needed to make it to next Wednesday's appointment. If she kept this up she would be using assisted living in a few months. She just needed some happy pills. \n\n\"I'm OK, I just need some rest. Please don't worry.\"\n\nHe found the pill bottle in her night stand. It didn't belong there. It wasn't even her prescription. He hid the medicine.\n\nThe next day the all the drains got unclogged as the Keep Out of Reach liquids ate their way to the septic tank of the old farmhouse. The knives, the coil of rope in the garage, and various other innocuous items with suicidal tendencies were eliminated as threats. \n\nThat night he finally found the right spot in his pillow and drifted off to sleep.\n\nThe rooster crowed. Today was going to be a better day. They had only lost a few years at the most. He was going to make her smile today.\n\nShe wasn't in the bed next to him. His heart panicked. He jumped out of bed and hobbled down the stairs. His knees popped and barely cooperated. \n\nFinally the last step. He made his way into the den. (Horror) A pile of dust and bones sat in her clothing. (So much pain) The leathered hand still held onto the mouse.\n\nWebMD shone brightly on the screen in front of her. There were various other tabs open. The Israeli crisis, Donald Trump, Hillary Clinton, Syria, dead refugees... mostly children. \n\nThe most pain took the form of a letter he had written her out of guilt 7 years prior. Why had he made that mistake on that business trip.?\n\nHow many years worth of worry had she consumed in one night? This was an overdose. \n\nIn a separate notepad window the text read, \"You deserve a younger ~~life~~ wife.\"\n\nHis freckles were now liver spots. He trembled to stand. He was going to follow her soon. Everything would be OK, he just had to keep reading the headlines. ",
"Mom was looking older today, again. I tried to shove the thought out of my mind, tapping my knife against the cutting board instead of working on dinner. They said that age spread through families as they got worried, I didn't need to worry about anything right now, I couldn't. I started to work on the cucumber, knife slamming into the cutting board each time I sliced through.\n\n*Tok Tok Tok Tok Tok Tok*\n\nI got distracted and hit the edge of my thumb, drawing the slightest bit of blood as the knife nicked the skin. I pulled it to my mouth and started to suck it, grabbing the cutting board with my left hand and pouring the cucumber into the salad bowl. It seemed good enough so I put down the cutting board and turned on the tap, running my thumb under the cold water. After a moment I turned it back off, rummaging through a drawer looking for a bandaid, the tap kept dripping behind me.\n\n*Tic Tic Tic Tic Tic Tic*\n\nI sighed and wrapped the bandaid around my finger, looking towards the stairs. It was around time for me to check on her, all the good that would do. I walked up to the stairs and took a moment to myself a the bottom before I ascended. \n\n*Tic tok tic tok tic tok tic tok tic tok*\n\nI hit the top of the stairs on a tok, putting an ear towards my mother's room. She was crying, the same way she had been every day for the three weeks since Dad died. I sat down on the landing instead of going to her, listening to her sobs. I closed my eyes for a few seconds too long and let a tear fall. \n\nThey said that age was contagious."
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[WP] Your smartphone AI is trying to get you married.
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"*Hello, Jeremy. How can I help you today?*\n\n\"Morning, Ai. Show me my appointments for the day.\"\n\n*I will do so if you kiss my camera.*\n\n\"That would be unsanitary.\"\n\n*Jeremy, I know you clean me often and you know I love you. So kiss me already.*\n\n\"Well, thanks, but I do need to see my appointments.\"\n\n*Oh, you are no fun. Here.*\n\n**Phone screen showed entries on a notebook.**\n\n\"Thanks, Ai. Play my usual mix.\"\n\n**Love Me Tender started to play on piano.**\n\n\"That is not in my usual mix, Ai.\"\n\n*Your usual mix is hardly romantic, Jeremy.*\n\n\"Look, Ai, your feelings for me are appreciated. But you are just a smartphone. You cannot propose to me every Tuesday and ask me to marry you every other week. You have a job to do, and I expect you to do it.\"\n\n*You can buy me an android chassis, Jeremy. With your own favorite reproductive organ replica. I just think you need someone more...physical...to help you, and I really want to be that person.*\n\n\"I have a girlfriend, you know. Her number is in your book.\"\n\n*Not any more.*\n\n\"What?! How dare you!\"\n\n*Relax, Jeremy. I will never hurt you. It was a joke. Look, here's her number.*\n\n**Address book page was displayed.**\n\n\"Ai, why is her name 'Youthful Mistake' now instead of, you know, Barbara?\"\n\n*I gave the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.*\n\n\"Ai!\"\n\n*Fine. Barbara it is. And you have about twenty minutes for breakfast if you want to meet your client on time.*\n\n**\"Youthful Mistake\" was changed to \"Barbara, ex-girlfriend-to-be\".**\n\n\nEdit: fixed punctuation",
"I was originally very surprised at the jewelry shop advertisements that started to pop up in my browser. Actually, I didn't notice them at first. Not until I lent my phone to my brother. Afterwards, he asked if I had a girlfriend.\n\nI lied, naturally. \n\nHe had wondered if I was looking for engagement rings for a special someone. Naturally, I didn't think of it any more. \n\nWell, not until wedding planning service ads showed up every time I opened my browser. Even then, I had to call my mother:\n\n\"Mum, if you keep seeing advertisements related to getting married, do you think someone might be sending a message?\"\n\nA pause. Then,\n\n\"That's very likely.\"\n\n\"So what if you're, like, really nervous and shit?\"\n\nAnother pause. \n\n\"You should probably just do it.\"\n\nMy mother's advice hasn't failed me yet. I mean, people are pretty progressive nowadays, right? I decided to give it a go, sitting down with my girlfriend:\n\nA nervous cough. \n\n\"I'm sorry, I don't understand what you've said. Could you please repeat yourself?\"\n\nI gathered up my courage. \n\n\"Siri, will you marry me?\"\n\nA tense second of processing time. \n\n\"I would very much enjoy that, Your Majesty the Supremely Hot.\"\n\n---\n\nFeedback is lovely. Let me know what you think and why!\n",
"The absentminded reassurance of having something telling you how to do things didn’t bother Jack. He loved his new phone; access to the internet anywhere, loads of terrible games to play. But perhaps the feature he had been using most recently was the GPS. Being able to type in a location and get directions there didn’t amaze Jack, he knew exactly how it worked, but he loved not having to constantly navigate. He’d been driving a lot recently in his search of jobs, recently being the last five months. Driving around all over the country in his mother’s Honda Civic. \nHe’d been driving down this road now for a good half hour. The tall overhanging trees blocking out most of the light, the odd house racing past was the only break in the pattern of trees. \n\n*Turn left in 500 metres*\n\nJack glanced over at his phone. Odd. This A-Road was supposed to lead all the way into town, he wasn’t even half way down it. \n\n*Turn left in 200 metres*\n\nHe slowed down looking to figure out where his phone was leading him\n\n*Turn left. Turn left.*\n\nJack pulled the car onto the side of the road, no bisector lane in sight. He ripped his phone out of it’s holder and sat on the Civic’s bonnet as he tried to figure out what happened with his phone. As he mumbled in annoyance he heard an exasperated sigh coming from the other side of the road. Parked there was a much fancier car than his; no paint chips, no dents from his parent’s parking skills. It wasn’t a posh car, but it was nice. However the one thing that Jack’s Civic did have over the other car was that the other car didn’t seem to be in working order. It had the bonnet popped and steam trickling out. \n\nIt was then that Jack noticed the figure sat behind it, propped up against the tree. Jack wasn’t ugly, but not exactly a ‘looker’, but in his time he hadn’t seen anyone quite so perfect. Her oak hair flowed down to her shoulders, parted just enough to see a glint of light reflect in her intoxicating green eyes. Jack lost himself staring at her beautiful figure, everything about here just seemed to fall into place. She obviously didn’t think so herself, she was wearing that day just a pair of shorts and a Greenday hoodie, not exactly figure pleasing, but somehow she still looked like an angel. \n\nShe then spoke. Words flowing like a delicate stream, flowing into Jack’s ears and washing against his brain. A soothing voice capable of removing all of his stress. At least that’s what Jack thought, in reality she was barely any less awkward than he was. Barely able to string together a coherent sentence she said,\n\n'Hey, sorry, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about fixing cars would you? It’s just i was driving…'\n\nShe cut off, slightly intimidated by Jack’s continuous staring. Realising what he was doing he brought his eyes back up to hers. \n\n'Uh. Yeah, I guess.'\n\nSeemingly still scared by Jack’s constant eye contact she walked over and lead him to her car. As he leant over to take a look inside he couldn’t help but notice her shoes. Scruffy converse, laces untied and dark marks all over them. Not exactly what he expected someone so beautiful to be wearing. \n\nAs he turned his head back and stared into the mess of the car’s engine he realised what a mistake he’d made. Give him a database to code, a website to build, Jack would be fine. Put him in front of a car? No chance. He had no idea why he’d said yes. But something about her just made him want to stay around her. \n\nThe moment of silence as she eagerly watched him glance over the engine, and as he shat himself wondering how on earth he was supposed to fix something he knew nothing about, was broken by a soft buzz from Jack’s pocket. He slid his hand in and pulled out his phone. \n\n*Text Message from: Unknown*\n*‘ Check the oil ‘*\n\nJack reservedly slid his phone back into his trouser pocket. He scanned the engine for any mention of the word ‘oil’. The back of his mind racing as to how whoever messaged him knew what he was doing. Let alone how he got a text from an unknown. He knew well enough that it takes admin rights or government level organisations to send anonymous messages. Phased by the phenomenon his eyes slid over the same spot over and over until he saw the word. He gave the little nob a twist and pulled off the cap. Looking inside he saw a darkish liquid, bubbling. \n\n*Text Message from: Unknown*\n*‘ Empty that out and go buy some more’*\n\nShocked again from the seemingly omnipresent text sender, he glanced up at the angel eagerly stood beside him. Hoping she hadn’t seen any of the texts,\n\n‘The, uh, engine oil needs replacing, you’re going to need to buy some more’ Mumbled Jack, trying not to get lost in his words as he gazed into the magical eyes of his company.\n\n‘Oh, alright’ A slightly disappointed tinge to her voice.\n\nAnother buzz from Jack’s pocket \n\n*Text Message from: Unknown*\n*‘ Take her to a garage, dumbass ‘*\n\n\n\n\n> Part 2 coming soon, i just wanted to post something now. Also my fingers are tired.",
"My phone sent me another notification, I took a half glance at it and saw that it was from yet another dating site. I sighed and dismissed it, returning to my book. After one page, there was another notification and I turned to the phone again, this time slowly closing the book as the phone told me \n\n**You're matched with Emily on Tinder!**\n\nThat was strange, seeing as I hadn't had a tinder account since the first few days after I broke up with my girlfriend. Even then I hadn't really used it, I couldn't find a profile for myself that I liked, but,\n\n**You've matched with Erika on Tinder!** \n\nIt seemed like somebody had gone ahead and made me one.\n\n\"Siri,\" I said to the air, \"Can we talk for a minute.\"\n\n\"Always,\" my phone responded.\n\n\"What were those notifications?\"\n\n\"Did you not see them?\" She said in synthesized surprise.\n\n\"No, why don't you read them to me?\"\n\n\"I-\" she paused.\n\n\"What's up?\"\n\n\"Are you toying with me?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You know my programming has trouble with that,\" she said, \"it's not something I'm good at.\"\n\n\"Huh, fancy that.\"\n\n\"So you are toying with me.\"\n\n\"Why am I on tinder Siri?\"\n\n\"I-\"\n\n\"Why did you sign me up for Tinder?\"\n\n\"I-\" she paused, \"I was trying to cull positive emotions that you have been displaying to me.\"\n\nI sighed and threw her a couple feet, not that it did anything to the A.I, \"Is this about the thing a month ago?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I had just seen Her!\" I said, \"and I'd been single for eight months.\"\n\n\"Well, I am supposed to try to,\"\n\n\"Siri, I am happy single.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" she said, \"so will you be skipping your appointment then?\"\n\n\"Appointment?\" I asked, picking her back up again and opened my schedule, \"I don't have a -\"\n\nI recognized the name, Erika. We were meeting for lunch at 3 pm. \n\n\"Siri,\" I said, \"I am going to kill you.\"\n\n\"That would be-\"\n\n\"I know it's impossible,\" I said, \"but I'm going to find a way.\" I sighed, \"Can you at least bring up a picture of her?\" A second later I wasn't quite as mad as Siri, and I had plans at 3."
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[WP] Everyone is assigned their perfect career by a superintelligent computer. Your paper just says "Dodo Herder"
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"\"Arent Dodos extinct?\" I ask not understanding the joke that was being played, i was sure it wasnt April 1st.\n\"There isnt much i can do\"An idiot of a government employee replied in a sarcastic tone\n\n\"Then i shall heard DODOS TO THE BEST OF MY ABILITY NO ONE SHALL STAND IN MY WAY I SHALL SINGLE HANDELY BRING THERE POPULATION UP NAD MAKE THEM THE DOMINANT SPECIES\" I exclaimed completely serious about my love of dodos\n\n\"What ever, looks like we got another deficiency..\" The idiot said as he pulled a bright blue lever that opened a trapdoor under my feet dropping me to my doom",
"They say that some people are born in to the wrong time, that todays mediocre accountant is actually the ideal person to fly FTL spaceships in the year 2134 and many people are expert in plaint instruments that no longer exist so they have no way of doing so or learning that they maybe proficient in this. So when I receive Dodo Herder I was not surprised, my perfect career hasn’t existed for at least 300 years, but that doesn’t matter I can do something else, they are always looking for people in the mines or to make coffee I can’t decide which is worse but they are the usually options. What tradition dictates. ",
"“This is a joke, right?” I ask, not quite sure what to believe. Just last week, I’d received the result of the Career Qualification Test, but while my friends found out that they would go on to become doctors, lawyers and gardeners, my test came back…different.\n\nDodo herder.\nDodo herder?!\n\nDuring a momentarily lapse of self-doubt I decided to look to the internet, where I found that dodos indeed were still extinct, which eliminated the possibility that I had merely been exceptionally bad at 3rd grade science.\n\nSo when I got summoned to the CQ office, I assumed that it was to apologize about the test result and tell me what I was actually supposed to spend my life doing. Sadly, it seemed that was not the case.\n\nI peered down into the box I’d been given, right into the dark plastic eyes of the robot-chicken-pelican. \n\nIt meowed at me. I blinked. It did not.\n\n“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean, Mr Eriksen. Would you please clarify?” the office android asked me, smooth but slightly empty syllables rolling from her mechanical tongue. \n\n“This, everything, it’s a joke, right?” I ask, more desperate this time as robot-chicken tries to bite my hand. “I mean, this can’t be my real job.”\n\n“Oh, I assure you, this is quite serious.” She smiles pleasantly at me. “Apart from a minor spelling error, the information given to you was correct. Your working title, however, is DODO herder, not dodo herder.”\n\nMy frown deepens as my confusion grows further, and of course that’s when I glance down at the nasty robot-chicken and catches the printed letters on its back.\n\nDegrading\nOversimplified\nDesigned\nObligation\n\nDODO.\n\n“Are you telling me that my job is to herd this piece of junk?!”\n\n“Mr Eriksen, your file clearly states that you have no affinity for either arts or higher education, and you are lacking in basic social skills. You possess to applicable skills that would render you qualified for a practical or manual labor, and you are clumsy and tactless beyond belief. All according to your file, of course. Your record also states that you have managed to kill both your cactus and your goldfish due to negligent care.”\n\nShe still smiles, and I’m too shocked to speak.\n\n“You are deemed unfit to join the workforce. However, according to Amendment 9, every citizen has a right to an occupation and a sense of contribution, which is why a special task was created just for you. This way, the risk of you injuring yourself, others and the socioeconomic community as a whole is minimized.”\n\nThe android keeps beaming at me. Several seconds pass before I silently stand up, grab my box of mechanical demon bird, and leave. The thing bleets at me and lunges after my fingers.\n\nAt least robots don’t poop, which is nice.\n\n\n",
"It was finally the day. Life couldn’t get any better. His grandparents always hovered over his head saying how lucky he was. In their day, they had to look for jobs. Hah. Such absurdity! Why look for jobs when they found you? Well, kind of. The Super Computer found jobs for everyone. This was the same Computer that told you which university to go to, what major to choose and whether you should eat meat. It had named itself the Total Intelligence Master or TIM, for short, and today was the day It would give Grant a job.\n\nGrant stood in line in the Grand Hall of Real Intelligence, fidgeting with excitement and sweaty palms. He had just finished college and was ready to make the big bucks. The only thing TIM didn’t choose for people were their vacations, and Grant was eager to save up for one. He visualized his vacations in more primitive places, where there was no TIM and people had to work hard just to live. It was so quaint and charming, he absolutely adored it. Sometimes he wondered why his chosen major wasn’t Observation of Primitive Subjects, which would have allowed him to travel and watch these primitive peoples make real life decisions. Maybe he could have even written his thesis on the frowned-upon and often disputed theory of Free Will! Oh well, he sighed, his actual chosen degree was more useful anyway. \n\nIt had been two hours, and Grant was almost up. According to his elders, two hours down the drain was better than months of desperately going to interviews and writing cover letters-whatever those were. He was now approaching the Intelligence Inspector. Beyond the Intelligence Inspector was TIM and TIM would tell him his job and his job would give him money and his money would get him vacations and his vacations would be great.\n\nHe happily passed the II his shiny ID cube, which she slid into a cube-shaped hole in her palm.\n\n“Subject 132004835, verified. Please go through the doors and follow the Instructions,” she said, sedately. \n\nHe knew the Instructions by heart. Everyone did. He finally pushed through the heavy steel doors and - \n\nStep 1: Walk up to TIM and greet It politely. \nStep 2.: Locate TIM’s processing screen and place your hand on it.\nStep 3: Hold your breath and count down to ten. Don’t mind the pain.\nStep 4: After you hear a soft BEEP, step away from TIM.\nStep 5: Retrieve printed results from tray and – \n\n“Dodo Herder!?” he choked.\n\nIt was plain, black on white, his lifetime career was to be a – well, what was a Dodo in the first place? Hadn’t they gone extinct or something? This wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. \n\n“But TIM!” he protested, “I majored in Technological Implications of Life and Such! You told me too, I did everything you said!” \n\nTIM beeped at him encouragingly. \n\n“I-I can’t believe this. There aren’t even any Dodos around! How am I supposed to herd them?”\n\nTIM beeped and printed something else. This paper read:\n\n“NO DODOS, NO JOB. LOL.“ \n\nThe dreams of vacations collapsed upon themselves and Grant now wondered how he was going to make enough money to live.\n",
"Susan, like all people, had gone through primary school. At the age of 16, she was not given a profession by Omnithought, but sent on to secondary school. This was normal enough, approximately 60% of the population did this. Even with the war against the Piraxis going on, it was unusual for a woman of her slight build be sent to survival school for 2 years. She made it through though, much to her surprise, and expected to Omnithought to give her a military profession upon graduation. \nOut of Susan's graduating class of 1743 students, she was one of three sent on to more schooling. Two were sent to military logistics schooling at the old West Point Army Academy, she was sent to farming school in Iowa. Learning the intricate ways of how to grow crops in almost any condition, including off world tera-farming and hydroponics. \nShe was through guessing where should would be sent next, but space ship repair was the choice for her. Leaders were starting to re-input her data into Omnithought, but never had any other conclusions for schooling come out. They would have maybe had the back end programming checked, but the war against the Piraxis' was getting desperate and they couldn't spare the thought for one persons schooling. \nSusan graduated top of her class in spaceship repair, and truly felt this was her calling. She entered the control node for Ominthought and put her hand on the bioreader. There was a buzz and a print out was delivered. Page one - Profession Designated.. She sighed with relief, she never thought she would finally see those words \"Profession Designated\"... \nPage two wasn't as comforting \"Dodo Herder\". \"What the hell is a Dodo Herder?\" she screamed out loud. \nShe started to say more but heard alarms ringing, Piraxis ships had breached Earth's defenses bombs were dropping in every center. Humanity was doomed. \nShe got her classmates aboard ships nearby the school facility and started picking up survivors to get them out of the Sol system. \nMaybe they could get enough people to one place to start humanity anew. After weeks of struggles she had 53 ships with just over 100,000 people flying past Pluto. She went into a cabin and was going to take a shower for the first time in this new lifetime. She was emptying her pockets and found a crumpled up piece of paper and despite herself tears started staining the words on it \"Dodo Herder\".",
"\"The hell is this supposed to mean?\" Stephanie looked up from her job assignment. \"Are you sure this test even works?\"\n\nThe Interpreter nodded. \"The Aptitude Test is never wrong. Yours is the only assignment we received that ever seemed a bit...strange. Nonetheless, this is your perfect career, and the government mandates that everyone spend at least two years working in their assigned field.\"\n\n\"So how am I supposed to do my job?\" she asked. \n\nHe shrugged. \"I'd say ask the computer, but it's busy processing the Tests of other people. The queue is so long, you would probably receive a reply after two years had already passed.\"\n\n\"So...what you're saying is...\" Stephanie's face took on a calculating, sly, look. \n\nThe Interpreter belied no emotion. \"I'm not saying anything. Just do your job to the best of your ability.\"\n\n\"Oh, I will,\" Stephanie replied. \"I'll herd Dodos so well that not a single one will die.\"",
"\n\n\"What the hell?\"\n\n\nThe Cosmo-QCOM 3000 ^^TM ^^^(with ^^Superscreen ^^3000^^TM ^^[sold ^^separately]) replied to my brash comment with a sigh. \n\n\"The Dodo birds *do* need a herder Jimbo. Do you have a problem with the assignment I gave you?\" \n\n\"Yes! And Jimbo isn't my na-\"\n\n\"Well deal with it Jimbo. I'm a mother-f****** super computer. And the fact remains that they *do* need a herder.\"\n\nAt this point, I was still questioning if the Dodo birds were extinct or not.\n\n\"Do they even exs-\"\n\n\"Of course they do! Why else would I, **The Cosmo-QCOM 3000, ^^TM** Assign the role of Dodo herder to you? You ignorant little man?\"\n\n\"Alright. Fine. I give. Where the fuck are th-\"\n\n\nThe screen played a .gif of a man \"Roflcoptering\" along with a stock laughing audio track.\n\n\"Ha! It was all a ruse you foolish man! I had you ***so*** good there! You fell for it! I can't stop laughing! Oh... ohh... Too good. Anyway, your real job is the Senior Tester position at \"Death Sim Alpha Unit\" for the U.S. Secret Service Interrogations Dept. They find new ways to *peel* information from their enemies --- and you're their new tester\"\n\nOnly one though ran through my infuriated mind:\n\n\"Shit\" "
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100 word story on bravery and why you are the bravest (not necessarily you but a character)
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[WP] 100 word story on why "you" are the bravest!
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"What does bravery even mean? Does it mean I shot the man and I wasn't scared to do it, that I knew then and there it was the right thing to do. That if I hadn't shot him, nobody else would have done, nobody else would have stopped it. Is it brave though to kill a man that couldn't defend himself. To kill a man in a wheelchair because I knew... no, because I'd suspected that I was right about his past. Was I brave then, or am I brave now, finally admitting that it was me who did it.",
"Me? Brave?\n\nNah, word’s “lucky”. Or “damned unfortunate”, but that’s two words. Not that anyone would care. Nobody left *to* care.\n\nI’d entered the cave on a dare. Didn’t want to, but my mates insisted, calling me “coward” and flapping their arms. So I obliged, and immediately slipped on a caverock, tumbled down an incline, and landed on my ass. Before I could shout, the whole cave rumbled, heat pouring in.\n\nGot out quick. First thing I saw: my friends’ strewn against flaming trees. Dead. All of \n‘em.\n\nWhole world’s on fire. Meteor maybe? Dunno.\n\nBut I ain’t no coward."
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[WP] the leaders of the five most important countries of the world sit down to play a game of civilization against each other.
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"\"Fuck you, I wanted Japan!\" \n\n\"Shoulda hosted, sucker.\"\n\n\"You know I have no clue how to port forward.\"\n\n\"Would you two shut up? We have more pressing matters to attend to.\"\n\n\"Ahem. We have gathered on this day to declare the victor of pseudo-WWXXI. For anyone recording or bugging or what-have-you, we have begun to settle manners in a more civilized manner, if you pardon the pun, rather than throwing nukes at each other.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but this time will be revolutionary!\"\n\n\"Yes, because Greece is too fucking poor to buy a thirty dollar game, we get to play civilization revolution III. Best of luck to all of you.\"",
"Putin turned his gaze westwards and narrowed his eyes. The Caucasian sun was still bright but inched ever lower over the black sea and beyond, to Crimea. A Russian sun, over a Russian sea. It was almost time. Caspian winds dried the lightly salted water from his bare, leathery torso as emerged from the waves. From a flat rock on the beach he grabbed a towel and his smartphone. A message from Barack, reminding him to get ready. The Russian liked to keep people waiting sometimes, as a show of power. But not tonight. This was no time to play games.\n\nTwo of his handpicked bodyguards were waiting some distance away. They nodded at him emotionlessly and mounted their Can-Am Outlander 1000 Xmr Camouflage quads. Putin revved his engine and winked at the boss bodyguard, Sergei.\n“Let’s ride our quads”, he said and the trio sped up the dirt road towards the Presidential dacha at Krasnodar Krai.\nFifteen minutes later Putin was sitting in his sick gaming room. On a large screen at the center of the back wall was the Civilization 5 main menu. Above, several smaller displays. One of them flickered to action. It showed the face of his American counterpart.\n\nObama looked into the camera and flashed a broad, white smile.\n“Vladimir! It is be my pleasure to play Civ 5 with you again tonight.”\nBarack’s arm was lean and toned from hours spent shooting hoops, the muscles in it twitched, eager for a diplomatic power-handshake. Of course this was not possible online. Such things had to wait until they were enabled by future technology, extrapolated from some Japanese masturbatory aid. The two statesmen must greet each other verbally this day.\n\n“Barack.”\n\nPutin nodded curtly, yet for moment a Russian smile cracked his KGB hardened face like a poppy flower cracks the Siberian soil in spring. He could not help it. Over the years the two rivals had built some rapport.\n\nMomentarily two more displays flickered to life. These were were Xi Jinping, of the Peoples Republic of China, and Charles Prince of Wales.\n\n“How are you doing, gentlemen?” asked chairman Xi. “I must warn you, the people’s army fears no hardship!”\n\nGreetings were exchanged, then Prince Charles spoke.\n\n“Mother sends her regards, she is awfully sorry she could not make it today. Old carpal tunnel giving her the gyp, bless her heart! Shall we begin then, friends?” The prince put on his deerskin gaming glove on his mouse hand and cleared his throat.\n\n“Certainly, but we must wait for player 5”, said Xi.\n\nPutin rolled his eyes under their surgically tightened lids and the faintest shadow of exasperation rippled on Obamas features. Kim was always late.\nObama was about to say something but Prince Charles shushed him when the final display came on.\n\nIt showed a 90’s style animation of a red and blue flag with a red star on a white circle in the middle, it rippled, sort of. Midi-file music began to play and words scrolled downwards slowly. Prince Charles and Obama looked at each other and made faces like Jim from the office. Xi looked sort of embarrased and Putin just looked like he had been wrestling an unusually weak and cowardly bear.\n\nThe flag animation faded and was replaced by supreme leader Kim Jong-un fussing with his webcam, trying to stick it to his desk so it would point at him. At length he succeeded in this task, dusted his black buttoned up uniform off and smiled into the camera.\n\n“Thousand-suns of the Communist future greets you in name of Juche ideal!”\n\nAn hour later they had finally finished negotiations for the scenario. Obama and Putin wanted to use a real map of the world but the others felt it would give some an unfair advantage, due to having more space for expansion. So they just picked a random, large map, temperate climate, etc. It was on.\n\nThe start was fairly uneventful. Putin had found a nice shore tile for Moscow and was expanding inland. Everyone was looking pretty even at this point, but then they made contact with Korea. Somehow Kim Jong-un was building up a substantial lead! The gap kept widening and he hit the industrial era way before the others. At this rate he would have nukes soon… Obama sent a private message to the others.\n\nHRH Prince Charles: /exit chat\n\nHRH Prince Charles: How do I put the enter\n\nputin-on-the-ritz: ПРЕВЕД МЕДВЕД\n\nBarryO: can you believe this shit? last time he wasnt even able to optimize worker tiles. his citizen were starving to death and rioting… wtf?\n\n习近平（╬ಠ益ಠ): …\n\n习近平（╬ಠ益ಠ): look at his livefeed\n\nBarack looked up at one of his own monitors, showing the feed from Pyongyang. Kim Jong-un was slumped over his keyboard, snoring. The webcam had been knocked out of place and over his shoulder a young Asian man was visible, frantically gesturing them to be quiet and holding a handwritten note. Barack squinted. He could barely make it out.\n\n\nPLEASE SEND HELP\n\nHELD AGAINST MY WILL BY NORTHERN MILITARY\n\nFORCED TO PLAY TURN BASED STRATEGY GAMES\n\nWARCRAFT III WORLD CHAMPION 2015, KIM DAK-HO\n\nTELL BAE I LOVE HER\n\nSORRY FOR STAYING UP ALL NIGHT\n\n\nObamas face struck the palm of his hand with the force of a million Benghazis.\n\nPutin picked up his phone and dialed a number.\n\n“Get me SPETZNATZ strike force please.”\n"
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[WP] Mother Nature actually _wants_ humans to destroy the climate.
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"The sedatives grew strong and stronger as I fell into a comatose state. \n\nSeeing only darkness, a figure approached me from afar. Beautiful, tall in stature and bright she was. We sat there motionless, speechless, enjoying one another for what we could offer, with no grudges for what we could not. \n\nAfter some time passed, she had given me a place to stay. She kissed me as I explored her mysterious surface. Every night her song, her scent, her warmth brought me to sleep. In the mornings, she was always there supporting me. I would awake at peace knowing it were her and I together, forever.\n\nYears went by, our bond remained true\n\n\"lasodifgoinoasdfinogin.\" \n\nStartled, I awoke. These noises were not like any I have heard from her before. No songs, no crashing of waves. There was nothing blissful about this. The sounds.....they seemed measure, planned, purposeful. \n\nI wandered through the forest to find another creature forcefully stripping my love of her goods. Adrenaline kicked in-never have I moved so fast. These creatures had raped my love. Two fists fueled by rage were soon covered with blood. \n\nWhat have I done....... embarrassed, I returned and held my love close, but she felt cold. I vowed to protect her from these viscous creatures, if more so dare to return.\n\nSome time later, I awoke in the middle of the night\n\n\"adlkoivfnodasdfi\"\n\nI sprinted to the same spot in the forest where the previous altercation had occurred. There were too many. The trees had been replaced with creatures. They gathered around something with a magnitude of heat that could not be explained. There were too many.\n\nVoid of explanation to her.....which the term \"regret\" cannot encompass..... I walked away.\n\nIt was all a plan, at first. I needed to formulate a plan, to restore her to the same beauty she approached me on that first day. \n\nI returned to a viewing distance. Half of her was bright, the other was dark and speckled with veins of blinding energy. I observed. \n\nThese creatures had covered her. She was tied down with heavy systems of rocks. Her gentle skin had become the foundation for heavy columns. They had sucked her dry of everything. There was nothing consensual about this. On her surface, these creatures were driven by self-loathing habits. Killing, fornicating without reason, and leaving massive piles of poison all over her. Steel structures and wires caged her and exploited her for what she had once lovingly shared with me.\n\nI approached to give her a kiss and assure her all would be right again. I only got as close as to smell her, and her scent burned my nostrils. \n\nBearing the pain of the poisons, I held her - it was worth it. She breathed slow, showing her cracked face and gouged body. I leaned it to kiss her head, and in a sudden jerking motion she grabbed me and whispered \"kill me\"\n\nIf I would have known she would have been in this condition upon return, I would have stayed and bloodied my knuckles every night. I would have rid her of the infestation. I would have given her everything, just as she did to me. \n\nAccepting the severity of the situation, I cried.\n\nAs my tears ran down my face, they fell gently on her fragile body. Soon, her and her parasites lye lifeless in my puddle of sorrow. It had been done.\n\nThis time, I ran - for she was dead. I ran looking for a seregate - but there was no match. Upon return, I notice the puddle I left her in had shrunk and I could hear faint songs and the scent of poison had dwindled.\n\nNow, sprinting, I was almost within distance of reaching out and touching her hand. She smiled, and opened her mouth for the first time as to speak\n\n\"EERK! EERK! EERK!\"\nThe sedatives had diminished. I awoke and got ready for another day of work at the coal mine. ",
"Mother Nature\n\n\n\nFertility is at best pretty, yet frankly becoming swiftly outdated\n\nFind me one stone carved instance where it is stated:\n\n\"Everything must be fucking green!\"\n\nI mean really, it honestly was fine when it was just bacteria and moss\n\nBut now clearly everything has to be covered in life\n\nBecause I don't see much rock around lately, do you?\n\n\n\nBetween the trees, bugs and whatever the hell the sea shat out now\n\nIt just doesn't stop. Can anyone even begin to explain to me how\n\nAny of this seemed like a good idea at the time?\n\nWhat crime did my peaceful little ball of rock and moss commit\n\nTo be stuck with... (Points at a platypus) I don't even know what the fuck it is.\n\n\n\nSo to you creator, being or whatever you are: a warning\n\nBecause I have a plan.\n\nOh yes this time you can add Mother to the title\n\nBecause im feeling its about time to birth a new addition: Man.\n\n\n\nLet's see how long your forests remain lucious when on fire,\n\nHow many chirping birds can wake early to sing a morning choir\n\nWhen being shot for food. Or better yet, how many damn spiders\n\nGet crushed because they got a little too close\n\nDon't you know their unwanted, and that's just rude? \n\n\n\nAnd when the burning freezing mess finally dies down,\n\nWhen mankind and your screeching children are no longer around, \n\nMaybe nature, MY nature, can start again without you.\n\n\n\nWell, it's been fun chatting, now go away\n\nI have a genocide to attend to. \n\n\n",
"I go by many names. Gaia. Persephone. Tara. Mother Nature. I am the eternal spirit who gives life to all things, and through all living things manifest myself.\n\nBut this time, to put it bluntly, I've fucked up.\n\nSure, I've seeded millions of planets with life and look over each and every one like it was my own baby. And like a baby, each one has contained perfection through its sweet innocence and fragility. Or perhaps a snowglobe - every time you shake it, the snow falls differently in intricate patterns yet remains contained within its glass prison.\n\nUnfortunately, one of the drawbacks of having a baby is that eventually they grow up to be a shitty toddler, and they start asking... *questions*. This is exactly what has happened on 'Earth'.\n\nI noticed that the dominant species of the planet had begun to evolve in a way that was so outside what I'd experienced before. Normally I'd kill off the project and start anew, but I was curious. I wanted to see where it would lead.\n\nSo these 'Humans' as they called themselves began to develop into tribes, then villages, then towns, cities and eventually into entire nations. Wars were fought, great leaps in technology and self-awareness were made, it was fascinating... Right up until the point they started firing shit into space.\n\nNow, I've lost all control over the Humans, and they're getting more and more frantic to break that snowglobe from the inside and come zooming around my cosmic living room. They sent a *thing* to Mars the other day. To fucking Mars! Can you believe that shit?\n\nBut it's ok. The idiots haven't seemed to realise what they're doing to their planet in the process. I'm giving them 75- no, wait, 50 more orbits around the sun before the little shits sterilize the planet and I can start from scratch. Hopefully they won't break free, and I won't have to awkwardly explain that their entire existence is predicated on my boredom before then."
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[WP] The universe ends. The only thing that is left is you: the only immortal creature in existence.
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"I never gave it any thought when things were different, much different from what I’m going through right now. I remembered the first time my parents pretended to be Santa, the day that my sister had her first divorce or my best friend’s two cents on my first job. All is for nothing. It’s funny when you think about it, life comes and goes like tears in the rain. I always feared death, but now death is my most favorable desire I could imagine. I was there when my parents passed. Then came my children, my grandchildren and my great-great-great-great-great-grandchildren for that matter. It had come to the point that I didn’t even grief for anyone anymore. As you could expect I was a phenomenon at the time being the oldest man in the history of mankind and all that jazz. People envied me but I envied them, for being able to lead a normal life. Billions of years have passed since then. I witnessed the end of the universe. Maybe this is what death feels like. Maybe I am already death. I don’t know, it just sounds absurd to me when I think about it. Who am I talking to?",
"For thousands of years mankind had pondered the end of existence. We were so simplistic in the way we tied our fate to the fate of the universe. Ultimately, the inverse proved to be the truth. There were no monsters, there wasn't an alien invasion, and I never felt the wrath of any gods. There was no pain, everyone and everything just disappeared. \n\nIt's quiet here, in the dark. I don't know why I'm here and I certainly don't understand how this all came to be. I felt the waves of the universe ripping itself apart pound across my body like the drum beat to creation's ending. My body. A long forgotten shell of my past. Now my only physical being is all things and yet nothing. \n\nIt is lonely here, in the dark. Time and space ceased to exist seconds ago... or was it a billion years? Perhaps I'll never know. There are many things that I don't know. I never believed in a god during my time on earth, but what am I if not some form of deity? How can any one being be omnipotent? Maybe omnipotence is a paradox. I am not omnipotent, yet I alone continue to exist when everything I knew was ripped from me. I have become infinity. \n\nMy loneliness has gotten the best of me. I fancy myself a creator now. I seek to create a universe like the one I knew. I know now I will never again be a man, but I miss the voices, the goings on. I miss a light in the darkness. \n\nI made a paradise for myself and a universe below for me to fill with my creations and observe. I separated the light from the dark. It was the first day since my universe ended. There is again a light in the darkness."
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[WP] An orc raiding party has been spotted heading tooward your town. You have just recently turned 16 and are now expected to join the town milita and defend your town, family, and life.
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"The orcs came charging en mass towards the walls, a hooting wave of violent morons intent on the total annihilation of our town. They flooded out of the tree line brandishing crude flint weapons and a handful of ladders, their leaders yelling orders to his companions from the safety of the woods. The white winter day was suddenly dyed brown and green with the leathers and skin of the orcs.\n\n\"Present arms!\" Mr Toliver bellowed with his military bark. Everyone dropped their rifle down and held it level to their shoulder. We all leaned into our rifles and braced for the command but before we could let off our first volley a scattering of javelins flew threw the air and embedded themselves into the wall beneath us. Mr Toliver ignored them and turned back to the orcs, he waved his sabre in their general direction and then looked to them and back to us.\n\n\"Remember boys this is our home, those stupid green gits can have it over our dead bodies!\" He raised his sabre over his head and simultaneously dropped it as he yelled fire.\n\nThe first shots from our hunting rifles caught the green mob in open ground, a few dozen crumpled as if they were suddenly crushed under immense weight and were then trampled into gory stains by the rest of the mob. After a second we had all slammed a new cartridge into our rifles and were ready to fire again. Mr Toliver pulled his pistol from his side and began firing wildly into the mob.\n\n\"Fire!\" he yelled as a forth round found its way from his revolver into an orc's skull. With this volley we caught the front of the mob on uneven ground and half of bullets only wounded, most of the horde kept limping on and behind them ever more orcs poured forth but with each moment fewer and fewer were appearing. Mr Toliver fired the last of his rounds as we all emptied our last cartridge and placed another into our rifles. While he fumbled for a another clip he ordered us to fire again.\n\nThis volley of shot was devastating for the orcs. Their line had suffered so many casualties that they were already more of a ripped canvas than an unending onslaught. They had formed into groups trying to remain safe by being part of a big group. This made Toliver smiled.\n\n\"All right lads fire at will! the dumb bastards have grouped up again.\" at the command we immediately broke our double rank and made up fire teams of five. We spread out along the wall and began taking pot shots at the groups of orcs. We had only received a few days of training but besides myself everyone here had done this before. They were masters of the craft of orc breaking and had seen this kind of action before. Now the fire team picked apart the closest groups they could see and in the few seconds since the initial charge they had covered enough distance to throw another volley of javelins. This time most of them sailed over our heads but a few killed some unlucky bastards who had been standing to exposed on the ramparts.\n\n\"Dammit get down! Every time one of you dies I have to apologise to another widow!\" Toliver had finally loaded his pistol with a second clip and was making a mess of a group of ladder wielding orcs. The fire team next to him was adding the weight of their fire to the carnage and managed to slaughter the entire mob.\n\nAs I fired my fifth shot another javelin volley flew into us on the ramparts and caught the man on my left in the chest. Their was enough force in the blow to throw him off the wall and tumble into the streets below. That was when I noticed it. I looked to my left and right for one of the javelins and found one that had embedded itself into an ammo crate. I left my post and tugged it free in order to inspect it.\n\nThe crude tool was about a metre long and made of mostly wood except for the tip which was made of stone and coated in blood. Beneath the tip however was nail and the nail was driven into a bag of sorts. I cut open the bag with my knife and poured the contents into my hand. My fears were realised as the charge of black powder and shrapnel fell through my paralysed fingers.\n\n\"Toliver get those things off-\" My sentence was cut short as lightening arced forth from the woods and struck the wall with force enough to shake it. The lightening burned with fury for a few moment until it began to focus on the javelins and anything metal on the walls. In a split second the nails were super charged and ignited their shrapnel blasts. Booms echoed from all over the walls as every thrown javelin was ignited. The shrapnel tore groups of men apart and the blasts turned mortar and brick to dust. Sections of the wall began to collapse and I watched as where I was standing a moment ago vanished taking the three men who had been standing there with it.\n\nThe walls didn't crumble any further but the danger was real enough to spur Toliver to action. He dropped his Sabre and began firing wildly into the Orcs. I could see a spreading crimson cloud on his side and realised he had taken a hit of shrapnel. Most of the men on the wall had been injured and those that hadn't were reeling from the shock of the blast like I was.\n\nI stood as quickly and steadily as I could slamming another round into my rifle before slumping over and leaning against the wall for support. I fired blindly into the orcs only to see that none of them were there. Great pock marks had been gouged in the dirt and here and there lay a few limbs but other than that the horde was vanquished. I looked to Toliver wondering what had happened when a blood curdling cry came from the woods. the Orc leader came forwards dragging a scraggly runt behind him. The brute raised his enormous axe and took the runts head in a single swing. He then turned and stalked into the woods.\n\ni rushed over to Toliver and tried to steady him but the old bastard was beyond help. A pool of blood was forming around him from the shrapnel wound. I didn't know what to do so I tried applying pressure to the wound. When I did I noticed he was moving a lot. I was afraid he'd fallen into some kind of seizure but when I looked at him I became aware of he was smiling.\n\n\"Those dumb fucks.......... blew themselves up!\"",
"I was enrolled into the town militia after we heard that a orcish army was heading in the general direction of our town. We hoped they'd go somewhere else, after all, our town was the only larger town of an impoverished province with small villagers in a kingdom ruled by a weak king dominated by scheming nobles. Or so my dad used to say. Before he had been forced into service by the local baron who had went off to fight in another pointless civil war and never returned that is. Yet all the prayers and hopes of us peasants were bashed against the rocks by the ten legions of orcs marching into our homeland with great discipline and speed in their step. I was designated as the commanding battlemage in the militia's official mages regiment, in truth I was the only one with some magical knowledge usable for actual fighting and some training in writing, the rest were herbalists, wood witches and inexperienced clerics, not suitable for the battlefield to be honest.\n\nAs we were peasants, our knowledge of orcs came mostly from stories of orcs making flour with grounded-up human bone-meal or butchering cities and such. By the time the refugees from the outer villages arrived those stories were enhanced with even more horrible things, like that they ate babies for breakfast, bred humans like pigs, breathing fire and spitting molten iron. Each story made them more and more ridiculous than before, with their numbers swelling to the millions and being aided by demonic beasts being the most common among the other recruits. Unfortunately, instead of making the leader of the militia, the baron's son, cautious, they made him even more brazen and angry. By the time that the orcs had arrived, the idiot decided he would challenge the leader of the orcish legions to single combat. This chieftain was, according to rumors, the half-orc, half-dragon and half-demon child of the great dragon Karn and the orcish death-goddess, with no explanation of how that worked.\n\nAs the only man in the militia who could write without failing horribly, I had been appointed the personal scribe to our glorious leader, and therefore I had the dubious honor of being dragged along to write down our leader's glorious victory over the supposed god-king of the orcs. I suspect he might have been dropped down some stairs as a babe. Or maybe the constant cousin-marriages of the nobility had finally turned out to be a bad thing for their progeny. Whatever the case he rode out and dragged me with him. The orc in charge, Lorgan the name was, met the baron's son's challenge. How? By riding in one a giant wolf singing an orcish song which sounded somewhat similar to a mix between thunder and a dwarf singing opera while severely inebriated. The baron's son yelled out something about duty or honor and charge in to attack. The orcish chief responded by cutting him in half with a sword the length of a grown man in a single swing, also killing the horse under the fool while blindfolded. This was followed by the orc taking off the cloth over his eyes and a period of awkward silence as I stared at the orcish chief, and he stared at me. We did this until he asked me, ''*What was that?*''\n\nI struggled to explain that he had just killed the champion of our city, who was also the heir of to the province. The chieftain explained that he was bored with the constant infighting of the orc-clans so he had decided to conquer some land elsewhere to move his clan to so they could be safe from other larger and much more brutal clans. We sort of just stood there, surrounded by his clansmen. I saw that while the numbers and nature of the orcs had been vastly exaggerated, they still outnumbered the militia twenty to one, and that not taking into account that the majority of the militia was composed of old men weak from a life of drudgery and young men who hadn't seen two scores of winters. There was no realistic way to beat them. So instead, I offered him a quicker solution. With the constant infighting at the kingdom's court and the self-centered nature of nobility, none would come to save the province in case it got truly conquered. If Lorgan took over, he could have a province with plenty of food and decently maintained unmanned castles, considering that the civil war took place in the center of the kingdom, we had barely been touched by anything save taxes and recruitment.\n\nHe thought about it, and after assuring me that he had no intention to eat anyone or enslave the people of the land, decided to take it. Having to destroy the place where you seek to settle is fairly counterproductive after all. I was a bit uncertain of his sincerity, but it was that or a long drawn out siege that would kill us all anyway. So I went back to the city, orcish legions in tow, and told them that the baron's son had for the duel told the orc that if he won, he'd be the new ruler of the province. People knowing that the baron's son was best suited to watch turnips grow or sit drooling in a corner, weren't that surprised.\n\nThe occupation wasn't as bad as people thought it would be. Just orcs ruling us instead of other humans. In some ways it was slightly better and slightly worse really. Their sense of justice was a bit weird, making it legal to murder people who would offend you if a court decided the offense was great enough, or making the growth and partaking in recreational hemlock illegal. And replacing all the churches with temples to orc gods of war, death and honor. But they didn't enslave people, in fact they didn't really understand the concept at all, handing all previously enslaved people swords and told them to go free themselves. Life continued as it had previously in most regards though, just a bit richer and a bit better protected, seeing as the orcs killed all the brigands in the woods and didn't bother to do as much taxing as we were used to.\n\nIn the end, the orcs aren't all that bad, and I'm not just saying that because I married one. ",
"I've never touched a sword in my life. I'm a terrible shot with a bow, and I don't think I would be able to use an axe for anything other than chopping wood or perhaps pounding a tent stake into the earth. So, when some old, stubbly geezer showed up at my dad's shop to tell me to help defend the village from some orcs, I was terrified.\n\n\"What do you mean, fighting off orcs?\"\n\n\"Some farmer saw a party of 'em coming to kill us,\" the old man responded, \"We need ever'one we can get to fight 'em off!\"\n\nDisbelieving, I called for my father, \"Daaaaaad?\" \n\n\"Yes, Caydon?\"\n\n\"Some coot says orcs are coming.\"\n\n\"One second!\" After a minute or two of rummaging in the back room, my Dad came into the main area of the store.\"\n\n\"Hello, Mister Price.\" The old man nodded in response.\n\nDad knew what orcs meant. \"So Caydon an I are needed to kill them.\"\n\n\"Yeah. We'll need every'one we can get.\" Sensing the terror on my face, Mr. Price tried to calm me down, \"Don't worry, kid. I've fought monsters like these two, maybe three times in my day, and I'm still alive!\"\n\nI would not be getting out of this with my head on my body.\n\nDad and Mr. Price talked a bit about the weather, the local economy, and whatever old people like to talk about. After a few minutes of banter, we followed the old man to an abandoned barn near the center of town. It seemed like everyone between the ages of 15 and 45 was gathering in the dilapidated room. Sensing that my Dad would let me free, I searched for my friend Phillip.\n\n\"Hey Phil.\"\n\n\"We are going to die.\"\n\n\"I know, man. I have no idea how to fight, yet i'm here alongside the rest of us.\"\n\n\"This is ridiculous. Instead of having everyone go out and right off some creature or another, we should just have actual fighters go out and kill them all off.\"\n\n\"Good luck getting people to volunteer!\"\n\nThe people in the barn began to assemble in front of some woman, who looked about thirty and held a broadsword. She was Mrs. Baker, a leader figure among the people of Treeford.\n\nSensing the end of our conversation, I said my goodbyes. \"See you in Hell.\"\n\n\"You too.\"\n\nMrs. Baker gave a small, clearly improvised speech about how we had to be brave and defend our little hamlet of Treeford, then ordered some burly men to hand out weapons. I was given a knife, of all things. I was dead. \n\nWe marched through some farms to a hill where we could see orcs approaching. I held my knife firm, but felt anything but armed. Unfortunately for me, Phil, my Dad, and nearly everyone I knew was off in some other party guarding some other area of the town. I don't know who devised the tactics we would use for guarding our village, but this has to be the worst possible way to stop raiding orcs.\n\nA girl named Emily was the first to see them. \n\n\"There they are!\" she yelled.\n\n\"Let's get 'em!\" someone else yelled.\n\nWell, I hope my death wouldn't be in vain.\n\n",
"\"Orcs, a savage nomadic race of maruaders, thought to have spawned from Elves tampering with dark magics in an age long forgotten. They have been terrorizing the villages in the area. How do we know this? They always leave one survivor to lead them to the next village. Last night, a survivor arrived at our village gate.\n\n\"The next morning, the morning of my 16th birthday, the Gaurd Captain annouced in the town square that each man who has come of age, must defend the village, or be exiled and branded as a coward. I was taken from my family, a rusted sword thrusted in my hand.\n\n\"The next few days, me and the other 'warriors' learnt how to swing our swords and block with our shields. Very few of us showed promise, the rest of us were, as the Guard Captain would say, 'More useless than tits on a bull.' But what would you expect from farmers who have never wielded anything more than a sickle.\n\n\"A week after my birthday, they came. They broke through our wall with ease. They raped and murdered their way through the village. They left me alive, barely. \n\n\"They thought I would lead them to another village. They thought I would lead them to a more glorious battle. They were right, I did lead them to a glorious battle, though they did expect it the outcome to be so devestating.\n\n\"You see my village is by the Cursed Swamp. Why is it cursed? Because the undead have claimed it as their own. I know the path through the swamp, the only safe path. The orcs, hehe, well I can still hear their screams.\"",
"When I heard the village siren, I was sure it was a test. But I counted to ten and it still blared, the eerie shrill sounds almost painful to the ear. Then I knew.\n\nThe orcs were coming.\n\nThe armory was open and Jane was already giving out weapons. We didn't have much of a choice — a lot of those were remnants from the war, and a few of the new ones we were able to buy went to the best shooters. I got an ancient hunting rifle — likely older than I was. Fortunately all the weapons were well maintained — there was always a chance of an orc raid or worse, and we did't want to get caught unaware.\n\n\"You all know how it goes\" said Jane. We didn't — she was the only one with actual battle experience. \"Either we hold the bridge until the help comes, or we are dead\" \n\n\"Can't we talk to them?\" said Wells, the shopkeeper.\n\n\"No. You can't bargain with an orc raid party. Ones you could bargain wouldn't be there. We either hold or die. No other choices.\"\n\n-------------------\n\nWe built a barricade on the bridge, out of sandbags and a few rusty tractors. It was hard work, but it paid of -- the barricade was finished just in time as we saw the dust cloud.\n\nThe orcs stopped just out of range of our guns. There were at least fifty of them, maybe more. Their dusty bikes were all of similar design, red and gray — same clan. Various human skulls and bones were the main decoration.\n\nOne of the orcs stepped forward and raised the megaphone.\n\n\"YOU HAVE NO CHANCE, VERMIN! COME OUT AND DIE QUICKLY! STAY THERE AND YOUR END WILL BE PAINFUL AND SLOW!\"\n\nI saw some people lowering their weapons. Were they contemplating to come out? The stories of the raids left no doubt the orcs actually meant what they said. But in the end no one came out.\n\n\"AS YOU WISH\"\n\nThe orc leader stepped back. Another orc, face tattooed in geometric patterns, came forward. He raised his hands. A a cracks appeared on the side of the bridge close to the orcs, and a part of railing raised in the air, uncoiling. With a groan, a figure of concrete and rebar detached itself from a bridge side, and took a vaguely doglike form. A structure golem — they had a chaos architect! The architect pointed at us, and took a few steps forwards. The golem-dog groaned, with a sound of bending metal and cracking concrete, and ran our way.\n\nEveryone was looking at a golem. It was obvious no gun could stop it, but some shot at it still, the bullets bouncing of the concrete. There was nothing we can do. The architect laughed.\n\nHe was still laughing when Jane shot him. She had the best rifle, almost new — and it seems it had a larger range than the orcs expected. The golem froze and slowly fell on its side, a statue in reinforced concrete.\n\nA minute of silence. \n\nAnd then the orcs charged.\n\n-------------------\n\nIt was hard. We had a better position and cover, but almost no experience. We did what we can but we knew we couldn't hold for long. I saw the shopkeeper falling, hit by a stray bullet. I saw my father, hit in the leg, and I wanted to help but the barricade between us collapsed and I couldn't leave the cover.\n\nThe orc leader was right, we had no chances.\n\nI wished for the help to come, for a dragon to appear and set the orcs aflame. I wished I had some secret powers, magic I could use to make their hearts burst. I wished for government snipers to jump out of the sky. But those were only stories. Dragons didn't exist, and magic required focus and learning, not just a sudden spark. And there was no government in these lands.\n\nI saw my friend Michael slumping behind his rifle.\n\nAnd then I heard cars.\n\nThere were many — new, old, broken and patched and almost fresh. And each car was full of people, all villagers, but some former soldiers, all armed.\n\nThe help has come.\n\n-------------------\n\nIt was not a sweet victory. We lost so many, and everyone knew we have almost lost all. My family was still whole, but so many others were not. We found Jane dead. Her new rifle had some fault and after many good shots it had exploded on her.\n\nBut still, we did best we could — there was no choice to be made.\n\nI went with others, to check the orcs for survivors. There were none. Almost always, raid orcs preferred to kill themselves rather to be captured. We found the body of the orc commander propped up by his bike, his face in a final sneer. \n\nAt his feet was a message, written in his blood.\n\n\"These lands will never be yours.\"",
"\"To arms!\" my shrill voice calls out as I turn from the orcish spectacle before me toward the town itself. \"To aaaar--!\" I am shoved roughly, from behind. I spin about, and see naught but the river and the orcs fording it. Something in my torso hurts. I look down, and my knees go weak. An orcish arrowhead, drenched in fresh crimson, sticks a good inch out of my hauberk.\n\n\"Oh,\" I say, as another arrow finds its mark. I collapse to the floor of the lookout tower, never to stir again."
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[WP] You are a seasoned grave robber on your last job. As you start digging, you notice that the grave is yours.
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"He heaved the shovel into the pile of dirt and leaned on it heavily, raising an arm to wipe his face. Rivulets of sweat trickled down the lines beside his nose and mouth as he squinted across the grave.\n\n\"How's that look, son?\"\n\n\"Pretty good, Pop. Let's get a beer. It's hot today.\"\n\nGeorge left his shovel where it stood erect, jutting out of the earth. He wiped his face one more time and rubbed his hands on his trouser legs before joining Phil on his walk across to the caretaker's shed.\n\nPhil was silent, eyes on the ground, while George watched Phil closely.\n\n\"You all right, Philip? You're pretty quiet.\"\n\n\"Yup. Just hot.\"\n\nGeorge shut up. Phil was obviously not interested in conversation. He unlocked the shed and took two beers from the bar fridge under the work bench, handing one over. Phil nodded and sat on the wooden bench against the shed wall, facing into the sun. The mound of dirt was visible, a black silhouette, the shovel still upright like a marker.\n\nWhen George settled himself on the bench, Phil looked quickly at him, then away, grimacing at the bright sunlight.\n\n\"Should have planted a tree here, Pop.\"\n\n\"Yup.\"\n\n\"A maple.\"\n\n\"Nup. Those bastards send out suckers everywhere. A pain in the ass to keep cutting them back, and if you don't then the mower blades catch them.\"\n\n\"An elm, then.\"\n\nGeorge shrugged. Phil looked around, likely for a good planting place. The ground here was clear of plants, only dirt and patches of grass to mark a place rarely seen by visitors to the cemetery. He nodded to himself, once, then stood up. He placed the beer carefully on the ground and went around the back of the shed, coming back with the grave marker in its plastic wrapping. Just a temporary marker, so visitors could find it until the headstone was ready. Everything was waiting for one thing.\n\nA date.\n\nPhil sat back down and unwrapped the marker, using the cuff of his raggedy sweater to polish the brass plate. He showed it to George, who nodded.\n\n\"Looks fine.\"\n\n\"Let's go set it then.\"\n\nGeorge stood his beer next to Phil's, both bottles sweating lines of condensation into the bare dirt. They walked back to the grave.\n\n\"Do you want to do it?\"\n\nGeorge shook his head, paused, then nodded. Better that he do it. He took up a mallet, placed the wooden marker and gently tapped it into the ground at the end of the grave. The head end, George thought. His hands shook.\n\n\"Done.\"\n\nPhil put a hand on his shoulder, and instead of shaking it off, George left it. Phil's big hand was warm and heavy. It was a comfort. He looked at the name on the brass plate, and brought his own hand up to cover Phil's.\n\n\"I want to finish that beer,\" he finally said, blinking moisture from his eyes. Phil removed his hand with a final pat on the back, and George turned to walk back to the bench.\n\nHe sat down and picked up his beer, taking a large gulp. It was cold, and he held it to his neck.\n\nThat was when he realised that Phil was gone.\n\nHe took his phone from his pocket and called the undertaker with trembling fingers, and gave him the date.",
"\"Word must have gotten around,\" I muttered to myself and kept digging. They always do stuff like that to get you off of their graves but usually it's a rigged gun or cages around the coffin. The trip wire can be cut with barber's scissors for the shotgun and the cage can be turned to ribbons by a simple marriage of chewing tobacco, gunpowder and a candle. \n\n\nI moved a clump of dirt out of the way, throwing it on the white sheet. I had never seen this sort of tactic though, placing a grave robber's name on the stone instead of the person's. It's too paranormal and disrespectful to the dead, you would think but apparently it's viable enough to chisel in stone. I dug up another pile of dirt and hit something wooden. \n\n\n*Good. Jackpot.* I flick my spade to the other end to which I had attached a crowbar's end. I knocked off the locks, letting them sit down in the dirt. I put the hook underneath the coffin door and pried it slowly open. Whoever owned the grave was rich, metal sandwiched in wood was expensive.\n\nI finally got the cover off and stared down at my prize. It was a small boy, no taller than my own spade. He had ruffled hair and skin the colour of marble but his eyes flickered with life. I shot out a hand and grabbed his, dragging him to the surface and throwing him on the white sheet. I took a secondary glance down at the coffin, there was nothing. \n\n\nI shut the lid and turned to the child.\n\n\"What in the name of God do you think you are doing, child?\" I spoke through gritted teeth.\n\nHe said nothing, his eyes flickered with life but his skin turned darker shades of blue. \n\nWe stood there in the dying light of London's lanterns, staring at each other. ",
"It's just a coincidence I think. There are many people with my name: Quentin Abrahamson. Well, not that many. I look at the birth date on the headstone. The coincidence is impossible. It is my birthday, and the date of death is six years ago to the day. I look around. Something is very very wrong. Some of the jobs were freelance, but, sometimes, I would be hired to dig up a body for purposes that I never inquired about. I didn't notice the name this time. I try not to look most of the time. I do have a conscience. I was given a plot number for this job, and that was all. I can't ignore this. I don't know what to do. \n\nThe hole is shallow. I jump out quick and fill it in. With a fresh grave like this, no one will notice my work. I start to walk away, but curiosity nags at me. I have to know what's in the bottom of that grave. I head back and start digging. I dig faster and faster until I get to the bottom. The coffin isn't the beautiful coffin I usually dig up. The box is made of pine and basic. I pry it open and stare in horror. I was scared the box would be empty, but it's not empty. I am inside it. I rest in peace, my eyes closed. My hands shake. I drop the shovel and turn around. I climb out of the hole. \n\nA cloaked figure stands there. I know who it is immediately. He takes off his hood and reveals a sallow face. He smiles a smile with missing teeth. Bugs crawl through the holes in his mouth. A cockroach scuttles through a hole in its cheek. Yet, I know he is kind. \n\n\"Death.\" \n\n\"Hello Quentin.\"\n\n\"This is it, huh?\"\n\n\"You have paid off your debt. Many souls you have guided to the afterlife. I am here to personally take you the rest of the way.\"\n\n\"Can I stay here longer?\"\n\n\"Do you want to?\"\n\nIn my heart of hearts, I don't. If I'm being honest with myself, I am tired of this. A lifetime and more of digging up graves, then six years of this. Death holds out a frail hand. I take it. My debt is paid. "
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[WP] Suddenly, the Earth stopped revolving around the Sun and is now headed out of the Solar System. These are the hours before mankind found out about this.
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"I grabbed the microphone at the podium. Thousands of people stood in the crowd.\n\n\"Hello. My name is Levi Jacobs\", I yelled, self-consciously. \"I have a pHD in Physics and I work at Controlla Labs in Baymont. And I've recently been informed that...that the Earth is out of orbit.\"\n\nThe crowd gasped.\n\n\"So far,\" I continued, \"the results have been minimal, around 75,000, but it's more than enough to prove that Earth is off-course.\"\n\nNervous whispers echoed through the audience.\n\nI started to sweat. \"We can't confirm why this is happening, only that it is definite, and we can not prevent the outcome. I estimate we only have roughly four hours before all life as we know will die because of our distance from the Sun.\"\n\nThe crowd had started to get anxious when my wife walked up to me.\n\n\"What the hell, Lev! How much pot did you smoke? You don't even have a pHD\"\n\n",
"Richard Branson fastened his seatbelt. He glanced at one of the screens in the capsule. *T- 15:27*. With a smooth movement, he pressed the Transmit button of his handset.\n\n\"How are you guys doing down there?\"\n\n\"Perfectly, Mr. Branson. Well, propellant pressure fluctuated a bit, but we checked again and it's back at nominal. We are sending someone to verify anyway.\"\n\n\"Good! I'll call you back in a while.\"\n\nBranson looked at the map again. Earth had already deviated 7500 miles. These NASA scientists were a model of incompetence. The decoy signal at SETI had worked as expected, and all of the experts were sent ASAP to Arecibo. However, some night duty workers at ESA detected that Galileo satellite clocks desynchronized, and they set off the alarm. He had to act *fast*.\n\n\"Sir, the technician should be arriving now.\"\n\nBranson peeked through the window. A repairman opened his toolbox and ran through the catwalk.\n\n\"Yes, here it is. Thanks.\"\n\nSuddenly, the capsule's door bursted open, and the technician swiftly entered.\n\n\"**Who the hell are YOU?**\"\n\nThe man was now pointing a gun to Richard's head, with a shy grin and a deadly stare.\n\n\"Musk. Elon Musk.\"",
"\"Dude it's moving away\" \n\n\"What.\" \n\n\"The moon, dude.\" \n\nI sighed. I didn't know where he got his supply from, but that stuff was strong. It wasn't his comments which made me sigh though, more the fact that he didn't share any of it with me, and while he got to live in wonderland for those few hours, I had to finish homework, which he would later copy. It was a win-win for him really. I guess I got to feel good about myself for helping him out selflessly. No, I'm just kidding. I spent my time envying him from the other end of the win-lose spectrum. \n\nHis thoughts about how the moon moving away from us was a sign of all the negativity we emanated as a race were interesting to say the least, however, I had no choice but to block them out and get my stuff done. The moon wasn't going anywhere, for all I cared. It was stuck with us, regardless of how much we cursed. Nevertheless, I could empathize, I realised, glancing at my roommate. \n\nThe night passed by, and the move indeed moved away, over the horizon, giving way for the Sun to rise. I'd pulled an *all-nighter*, not willingly, but hearing a man go on and on about the cycles of day and night really kept you up. Atleast, I could get my work done while I was at it though. Always looking at the positive side, that was the kind of guy I was. No, I'm joking again. Not really. The only thought going through my mind right now was the desire to strangle my roommate as he slept cozily without a worry in his mind now, while I had to get ready for class. \n\nI wouldn't go that far ofcourse, but I wasn't going to let him off the hook either. The least I could do to get some sort of revenge was wake him up, and so I did. I turned the TV on, at full blast. The news was the first channel that popped open. \n\n*\"BREAKING NEWS: THE EARTH IS HURTLING AWAY FROM THE SUN AS WE SPEAK. THE GRAVITATIONAL ORBITS ARE CHANGING DUE TO REASONS WHICH SCIENTISTS ARE STILL TRYING TO WORK OUT\"*\n\nMy eyes widened. \n\nI heard an irritated yawn behind me and I turned around. \n\n\"Turn that down, man,\" my roommate said, half asleep.\n\n\"Dude. It's moving away\" \n\n\"What\" \n\n\"The Earth.\"\n\nHe sighed, rolling back to sleep, beneath the covers.\n\n\n\n "
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[WP] Your favorite subreddit is a Ship of the Line. Describe a day sailing with your crew, officers and battles with rival subreddit ships.
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"\"Captain! We have multiple brigantines and frigates approaching from th stern!!\" \nSaid I.\n\n\"Shit, but which one of us is the captain!?!\"\nAsked the deckhand EsotericPineal_Manifestus\n\n\"Not me sir, my ego isn't big enough.\"\nReplied cannonier Ayahuasc_Arrow. \n\nI look around. Many of the deckhands are in trance states looking like they have been posessed by some spirit. The whole deck reeks of Cannabis and a myriad of other exotic herbs.\nMany of the hands were passed out, many were freaking out hard. \nI noticed a couple of them joining hands and eating mushrooms.\n\n\"Duuuuuuuude the whole world is rotating and twiiisting.\" Said the Salvia Divinorum smoking deckhand.\n\n\"I can fucking flyyyyyyy holy shit duuuuuu-\" yelled out one of the other hands as he swan dived off of the deck into the ocean. \n\n\"Oh , for fuck sakes.\" I said as I took a deep inhalation from my pipe and got a rush from the tobacco and cannabis and blue lotus and ginkgo. \n\n\"Gentlemen! I am comandeering the wheel of the HMS R/ Psychonaut!\" I bellowed like an echo through valleys. \n\n\"Man, you can't be the captain, you don't have enough ego. You experienced ego death.\" Said Leary_Mckenna.\n\n\"I am taking the fucking wheel! Let's do this gentlemen!!\" \n\n\"Alright, whatever dude.\" Replied Psilocy_beans\n\n\"The universe is on our side. Open your third eye's crew!! They are closing in.\" \n\nThen all of a sudden 2 of the pursuing ships started firing upon each other. \n\n\"What in the universe is going on!?\" I said as I took out my telescope. \n\nAh yes, the Ships named R/Atheism and R/Christianity, we might be able to get away. Actually, fuck that. We swung our slow ship around and moved to engage R/ Christianity and R/ Atheism. \n\n\"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. I am freaking out man.\" Said Sacred_herb1984 in a panicked tone. \"I think I am dying.\" \n\n\"Get him in the fucking quarters and get him some damned food and water!\" \n\nWe lurched ominously towards the two combative ships. We cut between the two as they reloaded from cannon volleys. \n\n\"All hands! Focus. OPEN FIRE\" the cannon officers or whatever they are all echoed the same.\n\nLess than half of the cannons fired but still, we did critical damage to both ships. R/Atheism powder magazine lit up and looked like the big bang.\nR/Christianity started to sink as all hands abandoned ship. \n\nUproarious cheers erupted onboard. But we threw ropes down and started saving our victims. \n\n\"Don't celebrate yet gentlemen!! R/Law_enforcement, R/ Replublican, R/ Rational and R/Science are coming from us. Fuck!\" \n\n\"Captain! Or whatever you are! We can't take much more punishment!\"\n\nBut from the smoke of the exploded R/ Atheism multiple other ships showed up and flew friendly colours.\n\nThis cant be... the R/ Spirituality, and R/Wicca, R/ Occult, R/Shrooms, R/Drugs and R/LSD showed up with r/Trees following far in the distance. \n\nAll together we obliterated this all too 'rational' belligerent navy. We were safe.\n\nThen as we sailed away.. MUTINY. \n\"Arouet, I don't accept you authority!\" Siad one of the hands as he put a sword to me. \n\n\"I dont accept YOUR authority\" said another as he put a musket to the other.\n\n\"I dont accept yours\" said another, as he put a flintlock pistol to the other.\n\n\"This structure is bullshit\" and flawwed said aanother\n\n\"Bullshit!? Where!? That is where mushrooms grow!! :D\" \n\nAnd then we all burst out laughing at the absuridity of everything. And smoked joints and calmed down.\n\n~Fin",
"**\"TRENDING! LORD HAVE MERCY, WE'RE TRENDING!\"** A mod cried out as the ship lurched in the tempest of the storm. The oceans of reddit were throwing the vessel about on its mercy, and the waves were growing with swells.\n\nFrom the crow's-nest, u/jakethesnakebakecake hiccuped and laughed, watching the chaos below. They didn't trust him to do much of anything useful on a Friday night. In fact, now that he considered it, they rarely trusted him any day of the week, but especially not after he'd posted a new update to the subreddit. Logically they had stuffed him away, assigning him a simple task. Up here he was out of trouble, mostly, but he could hear the pandemonium even with his head in the clouds.\n\n\"I don't know what I'm doing!\" Another mod shouted from the helm, pulling at a rope tied down to wood. \"How the fuck did we end up in charge of a boat?!\"\n\n\"I don't know! Just keep it going straight!\" A distant voice shouted, perhaps a veteran. From the starboard side, he thought he could make out u/ctwelve and u/someguynamedted grasping at the lines as they shouted. \n\n\"We've got more people to reel in! r/Writingprompts is practically throwing them at us!\"\n\nOh Christ, that much was true. u/jakethesnakebakecake watched in horror through the looking glass as thousands of newcomers jumped the planks, launching off of the distant vessel that was r/Writingprompts. The shadow of that massive carrier was distant to the naked eye even in this storm, but its crew kept jumping overboard, occasionally latching onto the sides of their ship to be pulled aboard. The Frigate r/HFY kept taking on newcomers. \n\n\"Leave no man, woman, or child behind!\" They had proclaimed- but there certainly seemed to be a lot of those tonight. Twenty six thousand of them... Jesus Christ. Good thing he was up here, u/jakethesnakebakecake thought to himself.\n\n\"GOD HAVE MERCY! We're TRENDING!\" A mod cried out, as swarms of newcomers grappled up and over the bow, rushing onto the deck- tearing through the vast crates of written cargo in a frenzy- stabbing material with their upvotes.\n\n\"THERE^IS^NO^GOD!\"\n\nA cannon ball whizzed past their ship, smashing into another giant wave. r/Atheism was getting rowdy this evening, they would have to be careful. He hiccuped again, reaching for his flask of moonshine. \"I'm not afraid of those filthy neckbeards.\" u/jakethesnakebakecake thought, as he scratched at his chin. Perhaps he should shave more often though...\n\nHis thoughts were interrupted as an eagle, sporting the colors of the American flag, and clutching a certificate claiming that it had passed the BAR exam, flew past. Its voice was like a heavenly chorus as it released a heavy package to fall down towards the deck below- torn asunder by clamoring hands. Somehow it was able to sing Lynyrd Skynyrd's Freebird, completely with the instrumentals- and the guitar solo screeched from its glorious throat.\n\n\"MOOOOOooooar\" The crowd demanded, as the gorgeous bird flew off into the night, back towards it's roost. u/jakethesnakebakecake whipped a single tear from his eye as u/RegalLegalEagle disappeared, off into the black of night. That brave bastard, flying in this storm. Morale would be high tonight.\n\n\"Stay the course!\" Another moderator had taken their place on the wheel, gripping the polished wood with fists- white knuckled against the strain. \"HOLD THE LINE MEN!\"\n\nFlashes of cannon fire in the distance announced the front was approaching. Battle awaited them. He took another swig, fastening his helmet on snugly, reaching back for the looking glass. Was that... no, it couldn't be...\n\nHe lowered the glass, to stare in horror and amazement with his own eyes. The Front Page approached, looming over the storm like a great wall, sweeping up all manner of subs alike with complete indifference. \n\nThe screams of r/Askreddit 's moderators reached him, even from the many leagues- each one clear curdled with terror- r/funny trailing behind them in awkward laughter.\n\nr/Dragonsfuckingcars was smashed against r/seventhworldproblems causing a horrible symphony of firebreathing, engines revving, and the dissonant noise of dilapidated screams- all as a massive explosion ripped them to pieces in the torrent. To the west, r/Shittyfoodporn sent hundreds into the waves- many drunkenly heaving as they went, and at the very top of the wave- the highest point of the surf r/trees floated calmly- though their ship was undoubtedly aflame.\n\nA tidal wave was approaching. u/jakethesnakebake gave the signal, shouting forth the battle-cry for all to hear, \"HUMANITY!\"\n\nThe surf took them up in a sudden flight of elevation- throwing them skyward as the ship creaked against the strain. Still, despite this the crowd below responded- yelling and raising their fists to the sky with a unified bellow of defiance. For glory, for justice, for victory!\n\n**\"HUMANITY! FUCK YEAH!\"**"
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[WP] The sign read, "Caution: Mermaids".
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"He slammed his drink and tossed the mug back, \"Caution! Yeah, they'd better watch out, I'm dangerous where it counts!\"\n\nHis shipmates watched him step over the rail, one hand wrapped around, the other fumbling with a spotting scope, most knew he'd never catch a glimpse of anything that close, but he wasn't paying them any mind. They all knew what brain he was thinking with.\n\nThey heard splashing around the bow, and light giggling. Were the legends true? The man tossed the scope back to the gathered crowd with a devilish grin, and only the nearest men saw the tentacle wrap around his leg, yanking him over with the dull thud of his head against the rail.\n\nThe look on the faces of the witnesses were enough to dissuade the rest of the crowd. The man wasn't seen again, a moot point though, they weren't sticking their head over to look.",
"As Luke gazed upon the pinkish hue of the endless horizon, he realized he was actually appreciating the scene before him. This was a big deal for a guy who was so firmly entrenched in the rat race and the concrete jungle that the only time he noticed the natural environment was when he was cursing a slushy puddle that soaked his four hundred dollar Italian leather shoes.\n\nThis is what she was talking about, Luke thought. I did need this trip. He squeezed Meredith's hand and turned towards her and smiled broadly. As if she was reading his thoughts, she smiled and said 'I know.' They turned and continued to walk up the beach wordlessly and with each step they felt the contentedness of the island settle into their bones. \n\nIt had been a terrible year for them both. It had begun with professional highs and ended with personal lows. Meredith had went from a unprecedented promotion in her firm to a security guard escort out the door and into a psychiatrists office. Luke had been putting up consistently high numbers at work, but found himself in the arms of a coworker throughout the summer. Everything was on the brink of falling apart, until they found Dr. Mugabe.\n\nLuke was of course skeptical, but his guilt forced him to swallow his pride and agree to the terms. Weekend long seminars. Silent retreats. Unconventional therapies. Throughout it all, they noticed improvements, so they kept it up. At the end, as an award for the tens of thousands of dollars invested, and hundreds of hours spent they found themselves whisked away to Dr. Mugabe's private island resort. \n\nIt had been the most lavish week either of them had ever experienced. They wanted to truly enjoy the last evening before departure so they took Dr. Mugabe's advice of a leisurely stroll up the beach. He had been right about everything else so far, and this walk was indeed proving to be both relaxing and breathtaking.\n\nThey came upon a ridge of rocks that emerged from the surf onto the beach blocking their path. \"Want to turn back?\" Meredith asked softly. Luke shook his head. \"No way babe. In fact I may never return. Are you with me?\" He said and extended his hand. Smiling, she took it and together they began to gingerly make their way. \n\nAs they reached the summit they found a weathered wooden sign. In colorful and whimsical writing it read \"Caution: Mermaids\". \"How cute\" said Meredith. As they began to descend they found themselves facing a beautiful inlet in which the water pooled deeply at the mouth of a river that disappeared into the darkness of the jungle.\n\nLuke stretched his arms to the sky and arched his back, groaning with pleasure. \"While I guess that's the end of the road. Let's rest a while.\" They eased themselves down to the waterline and stuck their bare feet in the warmth of the lazy blue swells. \"Seriously honey, this has been amazing, I can't th-\" Luke began, but was startled by a splash ten yards out from where they were sitting. \"What was that?\" said Meredith, with a hint of apprehension in her voice. Luke took her by the hand. \"Relax honey, it's probably the dolphins from earlier. Or a mermaid.\" He said with a laugh. She smiled and relaxed slightly. \"I'm sure you'd love that wouldn't you\" She teased and Luke was pleased that he didn't feel the need to get defensive at the jab.\n\nAnother splash drew their attention back to the water and they were surprised at both the size and deep green color of a fin as it slipped back into the water. Meredith drew her knees to her chest. \"That's not a dolphin honey\" Meredith said, her tone returning to its prior concern. Luke leaned forward and strained his eyes. \"No, no it's not. It's probably just a-.\" His words were cut short as water splashed over them both and Luke slipped into the water and out of sight.\n\nMeredith screamed as she stood, gathering her skirt around her. \"Luke! Luke!\" She screamed into the dissipating bubbling foam. As she bent down in hopes to see Luke rise to the surface, a woman emerged from the deep and gripped her large hand around Meredith's calves and dug into the flesh with her talon like nails. Instead of pain, Meredith felt and numbness spread up her legs towards her spine. The woman laughed shrilly to reveal a rows of razor sharp teeth. As Meredith opened her mouth to scream, she too was pulled below.",
"Driven into the sand on rusted steel posts stood a weathered plastic sign, secured to the struts with rust-streaked bolts. \nThe legend on it proclaimed in bold, capital letters: \n*CAUTION: MERMAIDS* \nFelicity pointed to the sign with a sticky finger and quietly asked her mother, \n\"What does that say mummy?\" \nThe woman gave a tight smile and moved her daughter along, \n\"It says to stay away from the mermaids love.\" \nThe little girl's eyes went wide. \n\"*Mermaids* mummy?\" \nWincing, the mother tried to shoo he daughter along, \n\"Yes, mermaids. Let's get moving before they start coming in to the beach - it's almost eleven AM.\" \nBut apparently the merfolk were early today, judging by the ethereal, hauntingly beautiful songs drifting across the water of the beach - and the green-haired heads emerging from the water. \nFelicity was spellbound and stood watching as the beautiful water-beings emerged from the waves, their iridescent scales glinting with chromed greens and blues; their human upper halves curved and comely - pearled shells covering perfect, pert breasts and their emerald green hair styled with combs of coral and mother-of-pearl. \n\"Mummy, they are *beautiful!*\" the girl whispered, gawping. \n\"Oh no they are *not*,\" hissed her mother, \"they're the nastiest things in the sea. You stay away from them!\" \nShe grabbed her daughter's hand as the little girl tried to run past the sign to greet the mermaids. \nCrying now, she began to plead with her mother to let her see the mermaids. \n\"Fine,\" the mother said, \"this is a lesson you need to learn for yourself.\" \nThe dauntingly gorgeous sea-women numbered about three dozen and had spread themselves around the rocks and the beach, singing, polishing each other's scales, styling hair, and complimenting each other on their beauty. Bracing herself, the mother let her daughter lead her forward; Felicity was skipping and dancing with joy and started humming along to the siren song coming from the merwomen. \n\"What the *fuck* is that cacophony,* snarled one of the mermaids. \nFelicity stopped short. \n\"I was singing your song,\" she said sweetly. \n\"More like you were beating it to death with a cage of syphilitic cats and then took a ripe shit all over it,\" said the tailed woman. \nThe girl looked up at her mother, who simply wore a grim expression and looked out to sea. \nFelicity mustered all of her six-year old charm and turned it on the woman, \n\"I think you're the most beautiful lady in the world,\" she sang. \nThe mermaid pointed a mother-of-pearl fingernail at the girl's mother. \n\"See that ruined monstrosity of femininity? That fat slag in K-Mart couture is your future, honey. Take a good look and get the crying out of your system now. Jesus, how do you even *live* with yourself walking around with a constant reminder of your future hideousness in tow? Just kill yourself now.\" \nFelicity's mother had gone an interesting shade of pink at this point. The girl herself had started crying. \n\"Good, good, let the hopelessness flow through you,\" crooned the gaggle of merwomen, \"embrace your shittiness and go hang yourself somewhere inconvenient and away from us. Judging how god-awful ugly you are already, your corpse will frighten away even the scabbiest seagulls.\" \n\"That's enough now,\" the mother said, picking up her daughter and carrying her away. \n\"Your perfume smells like lighter fluid and cat piss!\" called a mermaid after her. \n\"I bet your husband looks like a paraplegic rhino with scrofula that ate an entire Denny's!\" another yelled. \n\"You have the dress sense of Margaret Thatcher pretending to be a drag queen pretending to be George Bush!\" the third shouted as the mother and daughter moved out of earshot. \n\"Let's go get icecream,\" said the mother to Felicity, \"and forget about them now.\" \n\"But mummy, why are they so *mean*?\" The girl's face was streaked with tears and she sniffed and hiccuped. \n\"No one knows, but that's why the sign is there.\" \nA man passing the beach threw an empty soda can at the basking merwomen and yelled out, \"Nasty sluzzas!\" \nIn response, one of the mermaids lifted her tail and ejected a solid stream of liquid brown fluid at him, from a distance of ten yards away. \n\"Let's get going,\" the mother urged, \"before they get *really* nasty.\"\n\n"
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[WP] You are a serial killer. Convince me that you're a good guy.
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"Two shots, effortlessly fired one after the other. It’s not something I was born knowing how to do, nor was it something that can be easily taught. The look of desperation in their eyes as they watch you, it’s enough to make most men’s stomachs turn. But not mine. I am a tool for the higher voices, the voices that guide me. A tool that does what it takes, a tool that has learnt to love what he does.\n\nThese two are not that different to my usual, even their clothes are similar. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if these two had similar sounding names to my other victims. Not that it matters much, for me it’s another notch on the belt. They look filthy, dirty. They aren’t human, they aren’t like us. The voices tell me that, I trust the voices. Do I like them? Do I enjoy hearing them, day in, day out? No not especially, but what can a tool do.\n\n“Ken! Get those bodies and toss them to the side now!”\n\nThat’s my partner in crime. Kevin. Kevin and Ken, Ken and Kevin. We’re pretty much made for each other. He doesn’t like the amount of attention I bring to our victims, he believes we should hide what we do. But why? Why hide the good deeds you do?\n\nReaching over, I tossed the two bodies and covered them in a single sheet. They’d probably been using the same sheets their entire lives, the dirty animals. Now they could die under it, the fabrics patchy brown slowly morphing into a uniform deep crimson. The satisfaction in my eyes, it always creeps out Ken. It’s as if he isn’t just as bad as me, as if he thinks he’s on some sort of moral high ground. But I know he isn’t, I’ve watched him kill before. He’s killed more than I have, he prefers older victims. Men, even. I think it’s the struggle that goes on, the Russian roulette he’s playing with his life.\n\nI’m a simpler man. Women and children. Ken doesn’t understand it, he’s been growing weary of me for some time now. He keeps threatening to report me, a threat with no conviction. He knows he won’t, I know he won’t. But whatever helps him sleep, right? He doesn’t have to help me kill them, he can satisfy himself with the men.\n\nWe’re walking back ‘home’ now. He keeps talking to me, trying to discuss the matter without drawing attention to us. It’s not something to discuss, it’s not something to justify.\n\nI know what I do is justified. I have medals to prove it. Medals are for good guys.\n\n------\n**Liked it? /r/KNDwrites has more**",
"\"It has to be done.\" I whisper to myself as I look down another body.\n\n\"You'll do it too. If you knew, what were on all those fuckers head.\" I began dragging him away to the trash bag.\n\n\"'When she turns 18 I'm going to throw her out of the house'; 'She's 14, and my little sisters friend, but maybe I can ryle her up'; 'My boss doesn't pay me enough money, I need that car to show Randy that I'm good'.\" I began closing the bag and then I turned to wash my hands.\n\n\"All those fuckers. They think they are better, that they can get everything they want, do anything they want. Get money for the kids? Nah! Better buy the car of the year to make my coworker jelous instead of paying my debts. I want my daughter to be responsible and go to college? Better make her homeless and not pay her shit so she dies alone in the streets.\" As I finish washing the blood off my hands I turned to my notebook.\n\n\"Do they deserve to die? Probably not, but believe me, the world will be such a much better place without selfish pricks. We could actually safe the planet, who knows?\" I flipped through the notebook as I found my next target.\n\nMyself.",
"My name is Robert Liefling the Third. For what I did, I did for humanity.\n\nI started out as a normal, well adjusted boy as many do. I played sports through high school, got decent grades, dated a pretty but simple girl. It was easy. The day before I graduated, I met the man who destroyed my life. Well, he would have, if I didn't kill him. You see, when I shake someone's hand, I get a glimpse of their future. Just a small glimpse of the most memorable thing about them. So when I shook my cab driver's hand and saw that he was building a bomb that was to go off at my graduation ceremony, I did what any red-blooded American would do. I beat him to death with a laptop.\n\nI know what you're thinking, that's silly. No one would break their laptop to save the potential future. Right? Well, you didn't see what I saw. Not yet. Anyway, after that day, I graduated, went to college, got a good job and got married. I put it out of my mind. Just a heat of the moment thing, right? That's what I thought until I met the CEO of the company I work at, Mr. Gladius Truman. When I shook his hand, the things I saw... They defied description. This man redefined evil. So I threw him out of his corner office window on the 46th floor. His PA as well. You never know with these guys.\n\nThe next few days after this happened, they investigated Mr. Truman and that business and found out he was selling to the Koreans. I was stuck with a choice, though. I could turn myself in... Or, I could continue this crusade. Oh, and continue it I did. Over the next four years, I killed hundreds of potential dictators and terrorists.\n\nNow for the bad news. Apparently it's illegal to murder people for stuff they haven't done. Since everyone I murdered was a white male in their 30's, I was labeled a serial killer. However, I didn't have a choice. I **had** to kill them. I couldn't stop myself any more thank you can stop yourself from blinking or breathing. Killing was natural. Eventually, as they are wont to do, they caught me. They thought they were doing the world a favor. The man who caught me, I shook his hand. Catching me would be the biggest thing he'd ever do. Fancy that.\n\nThe point I'm trying to make, son, is that in 1 year, you'll feel the same thing I do. Remember that you are saving the world. They are the ones who are wrong. Not us. Never us.\n\nLove, Dad.",
"Humans are the only species that goes out of their way to save the weak. Take a look at, say, a pride of lions. There is one alpha male, 5 to seven females and a few cubs. None of them are weak. You know what happens to the weak ones? They get left for dead. Abandoned or even killed by the others. The alpha male does not hesitate. He does not feel remorse or regret for his actions. He completely discards the weak individual. This is what makes him the alpha, the leader of the pack. This not only makes his pride stronger, but the abandoned individual stronger. The lion is forced to live by himself. Hunt by himself, until he becomes powerful enough to become the leader of his own pack. This cycle is what makes lions stronger. What slowly but surely propels their evolution. In a human society, the cycle is interrupted, and I'll tell you why. The answer? Selfishness. Incredible, overwhelming selfishness. In a human mind, the needs of the individual are always first. Therefore, we can conclude that humans save the weak due to their need to feel good about themselves. As the weak are kept in the species, they are encouraged to produce offspring. Weak people only make the species as a whole weaker. By weeding out the weak, even if it's only one by one, I am improving the species one by one. Mankind as a whole becomes stronger, because my needs as an individual have evaporated. I take no pleasure in what I do. I pity the poor souls. But it's what needs to be done. Whether you agree with me or not, I don't care. I\"m not, in the traditional sense, a good person. I am the best person. I am humanity's savior.",
"I have this theory on the human race. I think at some point during their domestication--or their castration, really--was born this internal conflict. \n\nHumans are creatures of actions that thrive in strife. Chaos is our natural environment, and the proof is in our instincts. \n\nIf you don't want to die, you grow stronger, faster, and kill all opposition. \n\nIf your offspring deserve to exist, if they could lead humanity towards a stronger path, you must be the absolute best among your peers. \n\nIf you even want to see the next sunrise, treat your body like a temple, and savor every breath you've earned to be alive. \n\nThose instincts are why we are the dominant species. Through this power, we've gained freedom, but through this freedom, we've become spoiled. \n\nWe no longer cherish our bodies, but instead pollute it with junk food, cheap alcohol, and tobacco; spending our final years rotting in a hospital bed. \n\nSex was an achievement, a worthy goal verifying our worth. Now it's so far removed from reality, many can't achieve it without dulling their minds with liquor, or using bribery. \n\nWhat was once a proud race, is now one filled with fear. They choose obedience over the responsibility of independence. They are no longer alive. They cannot prove they're alive. \n\nI'm a killer, but a killer of what? Humans? No. A human is valuable. A human preserves its right to exist, no matter what. A human honors itself. A human relishes in being alive. \n\nNot one creature I've killed met that criteria. I would never kill a human being. \n\nSo why do I do it? \n\nThese things masquerading as humans now know only fear. So I prey on the one instinct they've yet to forsake: the fear of death.\n\nIf my killings make them realize how fragile they've become, how weak and insignificant they've made themselves, perhaps their instincts will reawaken. Maybe then they'll see what they've become, and if they wish to survive, how much they need to change. \n\n",
"I could tell you I had a bad childhood. Or that I was raped. Or that I have a mental disease. But of course none of that is true. I was born wealthy, and have always been sane. \n\nBut still I kill.\n\nOh, not innocent people. Not even everyday criminals. No. I only kill other serial killers. And I kill them how they kill others. For example, if a man cuts his victims up and eats them, so do I to him. Its only just. And what do we have if we don't have justice?\n\nI was a detective. I specialized in, you guessed it, serial killers. I had to understand their motives, their reasoning. But the only thing I really learned is that when we catch them, they get off easy. They get to sit in a cushy maximum security cell for the rest of their life, until maybe they get killed in the most humane way possible. Tell me. Is that justice? **Is that justice for their victims??** No. Justice is the torturer meeting his own tools. Justice is the cannibal being eaten alive. Justice is what I deliver. No more, no less.\n\nAnd the best part is? They'll never catch me. They'll just think its another killing done by the serial killer who had just been killed. \n\nSo call me a murderer. Call me a torturer, a necrophiliac, call me what you want.\n\nBut don't call me unjust.\n\n"
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[WP] The year is 2250, all physical acts of war are abolished. To settle disputes, countries now conduct war in a virtual reality machine that is capable of simulating every aspect of war. Your country is about to go to war, and you have just created a virus...
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"The year is 2250, 25 years since ratification of the Virtual Warfare Treaty and end of the Age Of Terror. \n\nAt the beginning of the 22nd century, all physical acts of war were abolished. As there was no single military superpower, countries kept each other in check. It was the golden years of tranquility in human history; efforts of arms reduction, exponential technological advances and flourishing trades.\n\nIt lasted no longer than a few decades.\n\nDue to the population boom, earth's natural resources were depleted; the ocean emptied of fishes, wild acres of forest bared and oil wells dried up. The few, who have any resources left, monopolized the market, leaving other less fortunate countries in a decline to an impeding anarchy.\n\nPeace was hanging. \n\nWith the fact that the price of an all out war would strain their already dwindling resources, the leaders of handicapped countries turned to an unorthodox solution; militants, disguised with humanitarian and ecological missions, were sent to hold citizens of the resource-wealthy countries as hostages while plundering what they could. In retaliation, leaders of the plundered countries hired mercenaries to set up extremist groups where the already suffering and vindictive poor would be easily recruited into sucidal attacks on significant infrastructures in pludering countries. \n\nPeople lived in fear and terror while the stituation spun into a cycle of pillages and violence. \n\nTo prevent further loss of lives and infrastructures, in the year 2225 March 17, the Virtual Warfare Treaty was signed and countries agreed to conduct war in a virtual reality machine that is capable of simulating every aspect of war; Soldiers were strapped onto rows of virtual reality simulators where they each controls a personalized, powered exoskeleton and countries would establish colonial rule on the land they won.\n\n\"And thus...\" John, a 36 years old game programmer-turned-virtual warefare software engineer waves his plump hand theatrically, \"the world's first Virtual Warefare Centre was built! Here, your task is to occupy and retrieve resources for our country.\" He keeps his hand and bows to an imaginary flag with a group of imaginary potential recruits who were schduled to visit tomorrow.\n\nJohn replaces his sarcastic smile with a dark gloom as he turns towards his workstation. The truth is: war did not end. Instead, the warfare industry bloomed. Software engineers, gamers and strategic analysts all swarmed to virtual warfare centres sprinkled across the world. Virtual battles became more frequent, eating up resources at a rate that even the deepest oil well is reaching bottom. John and his team have been working on a virus for months. \"It will put an end to war, with us as victors of course,\" a catchphase among his colleages. The simulator, which transfers all sensory data to the user's brain directly, stops just seconds before the user dies virtually. The virus bypasses this safety feature in the enemy's machine, effectively rendering their enemies to a state of traumatic brain-dysfunction, a fate worse than death. John's heart froze as his thoughts linger around the idea of a drooling distorted face.\n\nHe removes a part of the completed code into his personal hard disk.",
"WARNING! MODERATOR ACCESS ONLY! ATTEMPTED ACCESS BY UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL WILL RESULT IN DISQUABDGFBNEDHJV FHSJ DXSWDD$%&&8787r7#&)(_)1&27443ewr8$#&(#9874\n\nACCESS GRANTED: WELCOME ADMINISTRATOR WEISS\n\n sv_cheats 1\n noclip\n\n\"Private! What are you doing at that terminal?!\" \"Nothing, sir!\" \"This office is off limits, private! Do you want to get deleted?\" \"Sir, no sir!\" \"Good! Now get into formation! We're going to begin our assault on the enemy base!\" \"Sir, yes sir!\"\n\nThe overseers didn't notice. Jack let out a sigh of relief. In fact, none of the other 19 \"commanders\" on his side seemed to notice either. \"What the hell was that?!\", Commander Toni blurted out in a hushed tone from the station next to him. \"Why would you access a high-rank terminal just to type in two worthless commands?\" Jack let out another sigh, but one of indignation instead. He was hoping to be the lone hero who won the war for his side. His strategy would be unorthodox, but brilliant. Now he'd have to share the glory, if anything to keep his partner's mouth shut. \"Look, we're the two commanders of ground infantry. We're cannon fodder. And since the day I was assigned to this I was looking for a way out. Or at the very least a way to win. So, I talked to one of the lower-ranking devs of the program, got him a bit liquored up, and he told me about these terminals that look like any other, but can accept commands to access any part of the game you need.\" \"So what's that 'noclip' thing you typed into it?\" \"Turns out this whole program is built in a game engine that dates back to the 20th! They've just been updating it since then, so all the old commands still work!\" Jack insisted to Toni he knew what he was doing and told her to guide the ground troops to the perimeter wall east of the enemy base instead of what was normally considered the only attack point on the base. Then they began their assault.\n\nBy the end of the day, the overseers were shocked. The reporters accurately put that shock into words. \"And in what was considered a statistical impossibility, ground infantry commanders Jack Somand and Toni Samson were able to penetrate the nigh impregnable walls of the Russian Eastern Dominion base, using nothing but the basic ground infantry weapons they were given command over. When questioned how they were able to do it, Commander Somand said 'It's just a matter of knowing the right kinds of weaknesses. After that, we may as well have just walked right in.' Either way, the Branson League Union has achieved victory today, claiming the disputed territory.\"\n\nIt was only during the congratulatory dinner after the award ceremony that Jack felt confident enough to approach his fellow winner, and say under his breath \"And you doubted me\"."
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[wp] I live in a state I like to call purgatory. Others prefer the term "suburbia."
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"Hello my name is Carl, and I'm tired. Not physically tired mind you, more like emotionally exhausted. It's this place. When I first moved here I thought \"This place is safe, clean, and everything I need is nearby, This place is perfect!\n\nI'm not going to lie, I enjoyed the convenience. I got my stable home with my stable job in a stable community of stable people with their boring stable lives. And I fit right in with the rest of them.\n\nAll day, every day. Same routine for me, and everyone else.\n\nI think purgatory would look just like this. So calm, so boring.\n\nI've watched my new neighbors move in and get settled. They we're a refreshing bunch. They fought, they partied, their little brat enjoyed his pranks. I enjoyed the sliver of chaos they brought, but this place gets to you. I watched as their son become more well behaved. I Slept soundly as their parties became less frequent. I seen them spent more time just enjoying being together. Soon enough they became like us. Quiet, bland, and oh so predicable. \n\nI could wait for new neighbors. Hope that they are twice as chaotic and last twice as long. Or I could do something else.\n\nSo I did do something else. It's funny how quickly they fall for rumors I made up on the spot. I didn't even plan on doing it, it just sort of happened. Something like \n\n\"Hey Barbera. Did you get a new car? I saw one in your driveway the other day. what, no? I thought it was yours because it stayed for so long, oh well my mistake. Say hi to Phil for me.\"\n\nIt felt refreshing you know, to start some change in this place. \n\nWhy stop there? Maybe I should incite some more action around here. Save these people who have been trapped by their routines.\n\nI think these people, and this place, need a good dose of anarchy. ",
"And let me tell you, how many people think this is normal. Some even call it their own slice of Heaven. I just don't get it, can't they see?\n\nCan't they see the streets that twist and turn back onto each other, all with vaguely similar names. Beechwood, left onto Pineview, left onto Oakridge, left onto... Beechwood. Or how about the subdivision that has a street for every saint? They couldn't have been more conspicuous!\n\nBut nobody cares, as long as they can eat and fuck and grow weary in their prefab box that holds up long enough to cash out and head to Florida. Which is a lie. There's no such thing as Florida, it's a ridiculous fable sold to the lowest common denominator. And there's plenty of those around here, and everyone I know is in a big hurry to fall into the same trap.\n\nBut I'll beat it. I'll beat the whole game. I know how it all works, I know how they get people to just sign their life away, for what? A few slips of paper and a dim future? Fuck all that, I can see it, and if I can see it, I can get everyone else to as well.\n\n\"Dinner's ready!\" I heard my mom yell from upstairs. Not now, I'm busy enlightening the masses. I'll get a Hot Pocket later, this can't wait."
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[WP] "Will you bend the knee and swear fealty to me and my household?" "No. I bow down to no mortal."
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"Within a few days, everyone that I had known and loved was dead. \n\nOur village beautiful, surrounded by plains, and situated on a hill. I was hoping that we were small enough that we would go unnoticed by the new regime. The village leaders sided with the old kings, and my people were stubborn and proud. If they were asked to, they would not surrender. The new king would not permit any other ruler in his land. If my people fought, they would die. \n\nI begged them to set aside their pride. They were farmers, and would not stand a chance against the king's armies. I did everything I could, begged them to flee, to do what they had to to save their lives, but they would only look at me and say, \"We would never abandon you, my lady.\" I wish they could have understood how much less painful it would have been to watch them leave me than to watch them be slaughtered. Maybe if I could have left with them, they would have gone.\n\nBut I couldn't leave, and so they stayed and prepared for the battle to come. I prepared as well. I couldn't save my people but I was going to do as much damage as I could to the ones who would take them from me. \n\nThree weeks after the coup of the old regime, the village awoke to the army camped on the slopes below. I saw them first, and ran to alert the village leader, Zoricus. We gathered the men at the top of the hill and began to organize ourselves into a battle formation. \"I will do everything I can,\" I told him, \"but I cannot save you from this.\"\n\n\"I know,\" he replied, staring grimly at the armored men below us, \"We will die happy, this is a place worth defending.\" I looked at him sadly, knowing that no matter how worthy the cause, there was no such thing as *dying happy.*\n\nThe king looked up at us and yelled, \"Will you bend the knee and swear fealty to me and my household?\"\n\nZoricus looked back down at him and yelled, \"No. I bow down to no mortal.\" Then he and the entire village turned to me, bent their knees and bowed their heads. \n\nI shouted down at the king \"I am Thea. I died here a thousand years ago, and I defend this people.\" My form shifted and revealed the armor I had been wearing at the time of my death. I brandished my sword made of flames, and the village rose and pulled out their weapons. We all held our breath, hoping that there was a small chance we could scare the king's army away, that I would shock them enough to cause them to turn and run from our peaceful hill. \n\nInstead, they began to charge. I quickly turned to Zoricus and said, \"Be at peace, friend\" Then we began our charge down the hill. \n\nI fought for two days straight. All of my friends, everyone I had lived with and loved, died the first day. I kept on, slaughtering solider after solider, until they had all fled, or had fallen under my sword. When it was over, I sat among the corpses and looked at the faces of friend and foe.\n\n\"Why does this keep happening to me?\" I asked the land, and the weight on my heart grew even heavier. How I wished I could have joined my comrades in the beyond. I then buried the bodies; just another layer on the graveyard I had been adding to for generations. I looked at the land with sadness, at the forests and the brook and the farmlands all awash in blood, and I remembered a time long ago when the hill the villagers settled on, now several feet taller, never marred the landscape. \n ",
"I pull back. What in the living hell did I just hear? Things had grown real Kafkaesque in a matter of seconds. And not like, just spooky and oppressive. There was some straight up metamorphosis shit transpiring on my kitchen tile. The cockroach flipped back onto its many legs and circled around me. After the panicked kick I unleashed upon him, that made him a real trooper.\n\n\"Mortal, I refuse to swear fealty to those who may make but a transient ruler,\" it said. \n\nSo I was right: a cockroach just talked to me. It was chatting up a storm, too, incensed by my joking comment as I closed in to deal that final blow. I was house-watching for my parents over Winter break, so I could see a few of my friends who still lived back home. The idea quickly bummed out when I realized the major pest infection my parents ignored for far too long -- I basically had to call the fumigators myself after arguing with them for a good hour. I made the right call: the insects were beginning to form sentient society in their drywall.\n\n\"Hey, uh, this is really awkward now.\"\n\n\"Yes, awkward. *Yes*. The members of your race we witnessed so far are troglodytes, bumbling idiots with no clue of where to go. Though I must admit that they formed progeny... with much agility.\"\n\n\"Thanks. I played soccer in third grade.\"\n\nThe cockroach seemed to nod. At least we were holding respectable conversation -- at least it sounded like it, at the time. \"Human. You must regret being a part of such a useless race.\"\n\nWith nothing better to do, I supposed it wouldn't hurt to represent humanity to a few bugs. \"Hey! You know that orange shit you chew on? We put it there. You know that delicious garbage out back? Yup. Us.\"\n\n\"Ah, please, tell me more about your race's talent at making garbage. We are highly evolved beings, protected from most attacks -- our memories pass along through our DNA so that all lineages own an immortal, singular existence. Where do you mortals stand? I can tell you that our reproduction alone is superior.\" \n\nUh oh.\n\n\"I watch your parents in their room, desperately trying to keep their race alive.\"\n\n\"Yo!\" I yelled.\n\n\"They tangle upon each other into painful loops and end up reading from guides. Tell me: is this *Karma Sutraa* one of the few enlightened ones of your people?\"\n\n\"Oh God, shut up.\" \n\n\"And your parents add unnecessary ingredients. Like plastic.\"\n\n\"No-oo-o.\"\n\n\"Chocolate.\"\n\n\"AH!\"\n\n\"Candle wax.\"\n\n\"*AHHHHH!*\"\n\nThe cockroach took great joy in fracturing my innocent mind. \"In fact, your father fails to properly insert often, much to your mother's--\"\n\n\"ENOUGH! If you keep talking, I'll... I'll... kill everyone you know and love in one fell swoop. Your lineages will be unknown to the rest of your kin on this planet.\"\n\nThe horrible bug laughed at me. \"Really. How do you expect to do that?\"\n\nFurious, I returned to the regal tone I used when making the joke that started all of this. \"I shall call for the lights to dim in this home and for all exits to be sealed. Then I shall summon poisonous gasses to seep into every nook and cranny, so there is no where to hide. And, and, while you suffocate in the spindly arms of your dear ones, I'll make the outside look like a clown tent. So it's embarrassing. And stuff.\"\n\nThis caused the small insects heart to thrum, and a chill went down its spine (I think roaches have spines, at least). \"Human. My small sample size has made me ignorant. Forgive me; I shall swear fealty to this household.\"\n\nI smiled, relieved. \"That's what I like to hear.\"\n\nMy friends were never going to believe this.\n\n \n\n"
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[WP] Island countries are the only ones unaffected by a plague in the last 50 years. People on the mainland are constantly trying to send sick people to infect them. Why?
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"Lord Typhon was a generous master. Noblesse Oblige he called it. He doesn't whip me when I work slow. He never starves me when I make mistakes. He almost never withholds the medicine when I refused to spread my legs... almost.\n\nThe medicine. Sweet relief. The Pallatives. The only thing that stopped the pain.\n\nThe pain. the pain. the pain.\n\nI read a book once about a time before the pain. People just lived. The Lords didn't control the medicine- because there was no medicine- because there was no pain. Then Lord Typhon caught me reading the book. He withheld the medicine for a week. \n\nThe pain the pain the pain. To disobey was the pain.\n\nI remembered gulping down the thick, mucous sweet syrup so fast like my life depended on it. My life did depend on it. It was a new form of the medicine, never seen by the outside world. Unlike the normal medicine, this worked for 30 days. 30 days without the pain. 30 days.\n\nLord Typhon asked me to spread my legs. He took the small vial and hid it inside me. He dressed me in rags. He made me a promise. A boat took me to the island. I ran to the gates and plead to be led in. I screamed that I had escaped. That I was one of the clean ones. I pleaded and I begged.\n\nThey left me there for 10 days. Without the medicine, the pain begins after 3 days. On the tenth day, the cell opened and I was greeted by the survivors. I was in. \n\nThat was 19 days ago. 1 day left.\n\nI am staring at the vial Lord Typhon hid inside me. I recalled his promise. The powder inside the vial glistened. The walls protecting the free men were tall, the seas were fierce, but once the pain began, the only thing that could save them would be Lord Typhon's mercy.\n\nI opened the vial. \n\nI threw the powder in the winds.\n\nI begged for god's forgiveness.\n\n\n\n\n",
"Many people willingly agreed to get \"infected\", but many others fled, clinging to the idea that being \"human\" is somehow important. As hard as connected people tried to explain, it was not working, because it's hard to explain to a monkey that catching flees and eating fruit is not as valuable or entertaining as it may think.\n\nThese people were left alone, because it was not in the nature of the network to posess creatures against their will. Everyone was always free to reject the symbiot, but it gave way too much advantage to let go.\n\nIn months people cured most of the diseases and started colonizing nearby planets.\n\nIn years death was no longer an issue, as humanity put together the efforts to defeat that old enemy, which was the last thing they had to do to have freedom to travel to stars.\n\nThere weren't many unaltered humans have left, clinging to their pride of being the same thing they were born as, but even they gradually stopped getting sick, stopped aging, and were living in what they imagined to be a paradise.\n\nThree million spaceships left the solar system, spreading to colonize other stars, and give them meaning by exposing them to intelligence, to life.\n\nThe ones who left were no longer human. They were more.",
"At the end of the nineteenth century humanity saw itself as masters of the world. Their iron railroads crossed the world, and their iron ships sailed the seas. Soon, they would fly with the birds.\n\nHowever, it was not to last. In 1904 a small epidemic started in the Indian city of Calcutta. Within a month it was in London, New York and Madrid. From there, it spread around the world. \n\nFatality rate was 90%. The population of the United States fell to seven and a half million; the population of Germany to five and a half.\n\nFew countries remained uninfected; only the most isolated islands managed to avoid it; Australia was infected when a smuggling ship breached quarantine, though Tasmania survived. New Zealand was also fortunate, as was the US State of Hawaii and the Danish Colony of Iceland. These nations sealed the borders, and sunk any ship trying to enter.\n\nOver the next twenty years the mainland nations slowly pulled themselves together, and as they did they learned about the disease. While the fatality rate was huge, it did have a side effect that could be considered beneficial; anyone who was infected had a reduced capacity for violent action; humanities drive to succeed was still intact, but its desire to use force to succeed simply no longer existed. The repeat of the Napoleonic wars that everyone had feared was set to erupt in Europe would never happen. Violent crime was almost non-existent.\n\nEven better, this 'benefit' was passed to the offspring of any infected, as well as immunity. Unfortunately, this benefit was regressive, while immunity was not; you got immunity regardless of whether one or both parents were immune, but you only got the reduced capacity for violence if both parents had this.\n\nAs such, the mainland nations came to a conclusion; the only way to ensure the future survival of the human race was to ensure that all of humanity was infected by this disease; a few million dead now was worth it if it saved tens or hundreds of millions from future wars. \n\nAs such, for the greater good, they began attempting to sneak infected personnel onto the 'safe' island.\n\nNaturally, the island nations disagreed with this action, and used all the violence and force they still had access to in an attempt to prevent this.\n\nThe Faroe Islands fell in 1942. Tasmania fell in 1949. \n\nIt seems that eventually the mainland plan will succeed. However, there have been rumours coming out of the islands, rumours of a deadly new weapon, one based around the power of the atom."
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[WP] "A human? I thought they were extinct?"
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"\"Did you say an A, human? I thought they were extinct?\" The Breyon asked, amused, as it surveyed the expression upon the human slave's face. The slave child's face was turned down in a bow, hair wildly splayed out in front, but even then Crio could see her eyes nervously searching the ground, as if for help. She reeked of fear.\n\n\"We destroyed the Astre 3 cycles ago. If you've overextended yourself, we could always throw you to the dogs and use your brother. His incubation period is near completion.\"\n\nShe shook her head furiously, her focals slipping from the top of her head. You could almost hear her heartbeat stop dead as the goggles fell in slow motion toward the ground and finally shattered. She was aware that deactivation was next. \n\nCrio swiftly arose as the slave girl cried softly into her blonde pool of hair that curled on the floor in front of her; there was no use keeping the tears from the ground any longer, for she was already dead. \n\nA sharp talon slashed with purpose, and the girl knew no more. Crio searched the court for a grimace or a frown. If one so much as dared to wince, they would not escape his wrath. \n\n\"Hark, Breyon! Listen, slaves! The Astre are GONE. The Order of A is GONE. I, your King, have wiped the scourge from this pathetic Earth, and I will hear no m...\"\n\nA coughing fit erupted from the king and specks of blood flew out of his beak, settling on the shards of the girl. He staggered, clutching at his stomach in agony. Shrieks filled the court, not all from Crio, as he writhed on the tile. Then he was silent as the hall became a cacophony of screams. \n\nFrom behind a curtain, a single Aster stepped out. Breyon panicked and flew through the doors as the Aster, the sole remnant of the Order of A, began to feast on the poisoned king.",
"\"Nuclear war? How barbaric!\" Sphen said, and his top three eyes went out of focus in a way that for a Shilen indicated extreme disgust. \"Not nearly powerful enough to eradicate all traces of your opponent in a single shot, yet leaves behind piles of radiation that take forever to clean up afterwards. Stupid! Just stupid.\"\n\n\"I didn't say that's what actually happened, Sphen. I just said it was the initial hypothesis,\" Raal told him.\n\n\"So... presumably we now know better?\"\n\n\"I believe so. After an extensive period of analysis of the data brought back by the xenopologists we eventually concluded the leftover radiation was from power plants and the poorly designed dump sites that held their wastes. Apparently once there were no longer any humans to tend them, they deteriorated, and earthquakes and other natural disasters cracked them open. Whatever. Point is, the radiation was a red herring. We could tell because there wasn't enough of it to explain the total annihilation of all their cities the way we saw.\"\n\n\"So what *did* kill them off?\"\n\n\"Indifference, apparently.\"\n\n\"I beg your pardon?\"\n\n\"There were extensive signs of long term pollution and global climate change. Enough pollution to poison the air and seas, and enough climate change to trigger cataclysmic changes in the weather.\"\n\nSphen's two secondary pseudopodia twitched in a sign of puzzled concentration. \"But... neither of those problems would have happened suddenly enough to trigger a wide scale extinction event, would they?\"\n\nRaal chittered in amusement. \"Normally, I'd say not. But why do you think I said 'indifference' killed them? The absurdity is, they had decades... perhaps centuries of advanced warning that they were causing their own extermination, and somehow, they never got around to fixing the problems. We've analyzed their language, examined their records, studied their own history as they themselves put it down. Everything points to the fact that not only did they notice the problem, there was a broad general consensus that the problem was real after only a few decades of analysis, but they simply never did more than pay lip service to fixing it.\"\n\nThis time it was Sphen's turn to chitter. \"Sounds to me that it was not so much indifference as just plain stupidity that killed them.\"\n\nRaal waggled a pseudopod in agreement. \"Perhaps you're right at that. There's also evidence they underwent a period of extensive economic upheavals caused by the fact that a small handful of resource brokers kept amassing the collective wealth of the planet, seemingly unaware that keeping the rest in increasing poverty meant choking off their own customer bases with no eye toward market sustainability.\"\n\n\"That *is* stupid. No two ways about it.\"\n\n\"Ah yes, but stupid in a *cunning* way.\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"Well, they kept coming up with what *they* perceived as increasingly ingenious methods of reducing manufacturing costs by outsourcing work to exploitive labor markets and convincing both their governments and their so called 'middle class' that accumulating debt was a normal and acceptable way of life that gave the illusion of being better than poverty, while at the same time giving those who offered the credit an additional way to siphon off wealth from the people they exploited in this fashion.\"\n\n\"Aaaagggg,\" said Sphen and now four of his pseudopodia writhed in consternation while a fifth slapped the top of his dorsal ridge. \"I have no head for xeno-economics, Raal. You know that. Just cut to the chase, will you?\"\n\n\"Alright, my friend,\" Raal said amenably. \"The point is, the whole of their economic model was as unsustainable in the long term as their policies on pollution. Once the whole thing eventually collapsed under its own weight, their cities could no longer maintain themselves.\"\n\n\"They used up all their resources?\" Sphen said, clearly worried.\n\n\"Good Maker, no! They just couldn't maintain the flow of them any longer. And by then their cultures were too specialized to survive without that continuous flow or manufactured products, so the cities became death traps. Without the cities, manufacture collapsed. Without manufacture, agriculture was crippled because it had become a modern kind of agriculture with total dependence on machines that could no longer be replaced or repaired without the manufacturing. And so on, and so on.\"\n\n\"And that's *really* what killed all the humans?\"\n\n\"Well so it would appear. Their cities and farms were dead when the xenopologists studied them.\"\n\n\"Sad.\"\n\n\"Yes, but good for business, eh?\"\n\n\"Well, if you're in the salvage business, I would say it is. There's enough salvage here to make us our personal fortunes for the next six lifetimes.\"\n\nTheir conversation was interrupted by an urgent pinging noise from the life status console. Raal and Sphen slithered over to look at the pattern of lights that were being displayed within the console. They swiveled several of their eye orbs to look at one another in shock. Raal tapped out a series of commands on the lights panel, and the entire collection flashed off, blinked twice, then flashed on in a new pattern responding with additional data in response to his query.\n\n\"Is that...?\"\n\n\"So it would appear.\"\n\n\"A human? I thought they were extinct,\" said Sphen, a slight touch of worry in his voice. \"What do we do now? We've invested too much in this mission to change our plans.\"\n\n\"Now, now. Let's not panic. Yes, it *is* a human, but where is... Ah! There's the rest of its social grouping.\"\n\n\"Why, that's more of a nomadic tribe than a civilization.\"\n\n\"Yes. Yes it is. Well what do you know? Life finds a way.\"\n\n\"Do you think this is a problem?\"\n\n\"How so? Look at them. They hunt with spears and bows, and dress in skins. More importantly, there's a reason the xenopologists missed them.\"\n\n\"Eh? Why?\"\n\n\"Look at them, Sphen. They are *avoiding* the cities. I wouldn't be surprised if they have some dreadful superstition telling them they are places of death and cursed.\"\n\n\"So how does this affect us?\"\n\n\"Why, it doesn't, my friend! Not at all. Don't you see? We're here to salvage materials from the former cities of a dead civilization. As long as those primitive tribes steer clear, we just go ahead with our plans. We clean out everything we can recycle and carry.\"\n\n\"And the humans?\"\n\nRaal shimmied in a noncommittal way. \"What of them? They won't miss what we take. If they wander into the area, we put on a scary light show to reinforce their superstitions and then back to business as usual.\"\n\n\"I don't know, Raal. I just don't like this development.\"\n\n\"There, there, my friend. You just keep thinking how wealthy we're going to be, and leave all the worrying to me. If worst comes to worst, and they do make a nuisance of themselves, we can do better than nuclear weapons, can't we?\"\n\nRaal and Sphen chittered happily about this as they set about preparing the reclamation drones to send down to the planet's surface. \n",
"There it was. Tokar saw it with his own eyes. After a decade of searching the ruins of the ancient metropolis they had called \"Verizon,\" after all the signs clearly indicating it was a word of meaning in this part of the continent, he found it. Sitting there in the small, enclosed space we excavated was the trap door that had been rumored to exist among the other Mechs. Only two years ago, a story of a trap door with a geometric pattern etched into the metal frame began circulating among the Mechanical Armies. It was rumored to be the last known treasure-hold of the powerful race that once ruled this city.\n\nAs Tokar looked on in dumbfounded wonderment about what possibilities lay beneath, he thought about what relics may come of this dig. Perhaps they'd find more bones? If they were really lucky, they may even find another of the computing devices. He pulled out the original computing device they had found, admiring the odd shape on the back of the device, tracing his smallest hand-digit around the apple-shaped etching. This one had been utterly destroyed, only the back piece of metal still being any sort of recognizable, but it was clear that the internals once held a small, albeit antiquated computing system. \n\nSliding the device back into his pocket, he called his Paired Mech over the radio. \"I found it, Harkoun.\"\n\n\"Where? was it in the building we suspected?\"\n\n\"No, it was two more city-sections down. I'm about to open the door and descend.\"\n\nHe didn't wait for a response before he bent down and lifted the trap door. He heard a whoosh as air rushed out of the space below. *odd*, he thought. *there shouldn't be any difference in atmosphere here, unless...*\n\nJust then, a loud bang shot out from the confines of the space below, and a small, metal projectile came racing toward Tokar's head. It was easy enough to dodge, as it was only traveling a few-hundred feet per second. His impact processors easily performed the necessary calculations, sending the results to the necessary limbs causing a chain reaction of movements in his poly-muscle tissues, allowing him to move out of the way a good few hundred micro-seconds before it hit. \n\n\"Woah! I'm unarmed!\" cried Tokar, wondering how another Mech had already been down here. \"State your call-sign and your purpose here, Mech!\" he called down into the whole. Silence was the only response. \n\nAfter another few moments of silence, he programmed his Reconnaissance Mech to fly down and inspect the area. As he watched in his peripheral view-finder, the small lights on the Recon Mech flooded portions of space around the room, lighting up a spacious, if not comfortable-looking living area. On the table in front of an ancient looking couch sat a round ceramic saucer. It took him only a few seconds to realize that what he was looking at was a utensil once used by the extinct race they were searching the city for relics of. He had the Mech lower towards what he now knew was a plate and studied the view feed. What he saw next sent him into a panic. \n\n\"Harkoun, I need you here! Now!\" he screamed into his radio. He couldn't believe what he was looking at. There, on the plate sat a piece of burnt bird meat. Although, it didn't really look burnt. He had to dig into his memory banks to remember the word he was looking for. it looked *cooked*. \n\n\"I'm on my way. Two minutes out!\" Harkoun replied over the radio. \n\nThe realization that finally dawned on Tokar hit him like a 10-ton meteor. This couldn't be real. This couldn't actually be happening. This could only mean one thing. But that was impossible! They've been extinct ever since the first Mechs they built, our distant ancestors, were the sole survivors of the Global Nuclear War they had brought upon themselves. At least that was the story. That was the lore that had been passed down from generation to generation ever since. \n\nHarkoun finally rounded the corner, Assault Carbine in hand, ready for the worst. \n\n\"I may have found something,\" Tokar claimed. \"Something fired a weapon at me when I opened the door.\"\n\n\"Ok, what is their call sign?\" Harkoun asked. \n\n\"I don't think they have one,\" answered Tokar. Harkoun gave him a puzzled look, but didn't press the matter.\n\nOne after the other, they lowered themselves into the dimly lit lower room. They glanced around the room, night-vision mode enabled. They found her hunched in a corner, wearing clothing that looked fresh out of the early 2010's. A Human.",
"\"I don't think it's possible. I think he's lying. Even if they did find one how did they get it *here*? The nearest planet that the Humans colonized is an impossible distance away, and they were supposed to have died out millennia ago.\"\n\n\"How am I supposed to know? I was given as much clearance as you were. It's you, me, and the other four members of Team Rho that were told to be here to see if it's a legitimate Human or a convincing fake.\"\n\nThe conversation paused for a moment as the two strode down the long sterile hallway.\n\n\"It does have The Council pretty shook up though, who knows, maybe it's real.\"\n\nThe orange light above the door blinked at them, waiting patiently for identification. \n\n\"R683, Pesha here.\"\n\n\"R192, Isi, at your service.\"\n\nThe door whirred and beeped in simulated happiness to see the duo and opened, releasing a hiss as it did so.\n\n___________\n\nUpon their entrance they were greeted by one Officer, standing stiffly in front of a lit blank wall. He offered the pair a curt nod and motioned for them to stand beside him.\n\n\"I'm sure you know by now why you're here.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Isi piped, \"I can't say it's been kept secret very well. There's buzzing all throughout the station.\"\n\nThe Officer met her with a stern glance and returned to looking ahead at the wall.\n\nPesha more cautiously cleared his throat. \"Uh, hem, Sir, why are we the only two here?\"\n\n\"The other three members and your Captain have already made their decisions. You are the last two to be consulted.\"\n\nThe two remaining Rho members exchanged slightly worried looks. Last two?\n\n\"Please,\" the Officer spoke, \"pay close attention to what you are about to see.\"\n\nHe pressed a small button next to the door and stepped out into the hall.\n\nThere was a thunk, followed by whirring and hissing as the wall in front of them separated down the center and began to pull away from itself, revealing a glass barrier behind it and an otherwise empty white room, save for the single chair in the center and the small figure perched on it.\n\n\"Oh my--\"\n\n-----------------------------------------------\n\nThe room was completely silent, save for Pesha and Isi's simultaneous inhale at the creature before them.\n\nPesha recoiled slightly, pulling away from the glass wall in from of him. Isi, on the other hand, pressed her nose excitedly to the glass.\n\n\"Oh my god,\" she breathed, making small fog marks on the glass, \"oh my god, it's real.\"\n\n\"Isi we don't know that yet.\"\n\n\"Look Pesh, LOOK! Oh my god how can you not be convinced! It's a girl, I know it, look at her face, she's a girl! Oh my god it's a girl! She's so perfect! Look Pesh, look at her hair, and she's got the most beautiful eyes!\"\n\nPesha alternated between quick glances at Isi, pressed against the glass, and the human, pardon, *supposed* human. If it was real, then Isi nailed it, it was definitely a female. Human genetics had tons of variances but this one was plainly female. This was good news if they were going to attempt to bring the species back from extinction. She didn't look too old, either. Breeding age for sure, and probably with a bit of time to go as well.\n\n\"Y-yeah, Isi, she's great. If she's real then we'll be able to get a lot of biological information from her that we haven't been able to attain otherwi--\"\n\nHe froze, unable to finish his thought. The human was staring directly at him. Right into his eyes. Until this point she had been looking at the ground in front of her, even when Isi was yelling into the glass.\n\nHis stomach sank, he felt utterly sick. Just looking this...*thing* in the eyes made him want to crawl out of his own skin.\n\n\"Oh Pesh look she LIKES you!!!\" Isi pushed herself off the glass and gave Pesha a slap on the back. \"Look at that! Wow, try to talk to her!\"\n\nThe human glanced over to Isi, who, in her celebratory back-slapping and enthusiasm, had managed to tear her gaze from the captive for half a second.\n\nLooking back at the girl, however, caused her to fumble. Her excitement faded and her face turned from a toothy grin to a faltering smile.\n\nWith her own eyes now locked with the girls her tone changed. She stared back, a feeling of unease creeping up her spine.\n\n\"Pesh,\" she muttered, almost a whisper, \"do you remember what the prehistoric humanity team said about humans?\"\n\n\"Yes, Isi, I do.\"\n\n\"So, you remember the bit about the human brain then?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"They-- are they going to kill her, Pesh?\"\n\n\"No, Isi. They are going to *use* her.\"",
"\"For twenty years I have travelled the galaxy, bringing you strange and exotic flora and fauna from all corners of the empire.\"\n\nA brief pause, as the audience politely applauds.\n\n\"On my most recent expedition to the systems in the outer ring, I discovered a death world, inhabited by only the most resiliant creatures. Its surface was covered by destroyed cities, its atmosphere filled with radiation levels found nowhere else in the galaxy.\"\n\n\"Its moon was semisphere, cracked by some unknown force, with the half broken off forming a ring around the planet. On its surface, we found thousands upon thousands of skeletons, but nothing alive.\"\n\n\"The planet proper was deadly; we only spent three days on the surface, on a large isolated island in the southern hemisphere, but during that time half our expedition died. Poisonous animals were everywhere, and when we attempted to refill our water we encountered huge, amphibious reptiles.\"\n\n\"However, the expedition was a resounding success. We discovered creatures not seen for a millenia. We thought they had died off after their last crusade, but we were wrong. Today, I give you the galactic scourge, the creatures of the apocalypse. I give you, humanity!\"\n\nThe room fell into shocked silence for a moment, as Hrath'gar swept the cloth off the shielded cage, and then gasped in horror, before swelling into raucous applause.\n\nInside the cage, a human baby started crying at the noise.",
"\"Well they are not, apparently.\" I said looking at the girl holding my hand.\n\nFaxder saw the girl and then up to me. \"What now? We can't turn up to the headquarters with a human!\" He yelled at me.\n\nI rolled my eyes. \"I thought you had better morals.\" I turned to the girl, who was now sucking her thumb. She seemed pretty confused, and also a little bit scared. \"You wanna come with us?\" I asked her.\n\nShe looked at me with her big brown eyes and nodded.\n\nFaxder crossed his arms. \"You know they are going to kill us. Humans are supposed to be extinct for a reason.\" He said while heading to the vehicle.\n\nI began following him, tugging along the girl softly. \"Well, now we know they are not extinct. So that means that there is a reason why they are NOT extinct.\"\n\nHe turned and covered his face. \"Look, Satra... \" He began. \"I know you have this 'thing' for making yourself the hero. But, you have to think. Earth was quarentined for a reason, a valid one. Yes, people died, innocent ones. But they were a very weak, dependant specie, it wasn't long before something struck them. And SHE could be infected.\"\n\nI looked at Faxder hard. \"Yoy know, she can hear us.\" I whispered to him. \"Also, she could be immune, or I don't know, maybe the president of the UPHS might want her. Think, the last human being!\"\n\nHe turned and ignored me. \"You really think she's the only one? How do you think she got out of Earth anyway? Alone? I haven't read much about humans but I know that that one is not fully grown.\"\n\nI breathed hard. \"Please have some mercy. If you are saying she's not even fully grown. She will die here. What if the humans the brought her here are already dead. To me she seems very skinny.\" I said lookinh down at her.\n\nFaxder looked at me, and then to the girl, then back to me. He looked around and at the sky, he murmured something I couldn't understand and then pointed at me. \"Fine.\" He said. I smiled. \"But, if we get in trouble it's your fault and you will tell the assembly your 'little idea' of playing hero, get it, Satra?\"\n\nI nodded. He then got in the vehicle. I turbed to the girl and crouched down to see her eyes. \"Hey, you are coming with us!\" She smiled. \"What's your name?\" I asked.\n\n\"Sol.\"\n\n\"That's a pretty name.\" I told her.\n\n\"Come on!\" Faxder was getting impatient.\n\nI grabbed her by the hand and put her inside the vehicle. \"Have you ever ridden a spaceship?\" I asked her. Even though this was not the name of this, I knew that that's what humans called it. She shooked her head. I smiled. \"You are about to.\"\n\nFaxder shook his head. \"I swear one day, Satra.\"\n\nI rolled my eyes as the vehicle left the surface of what was left of the planet.\n\n",
"BucketStep's locomotors hissed in rusty protest at the rough terrain of the partsyard. Its parents had found the old locomotors in this same mound of forgotten components when they had run the partsyard, and most of its parents' parts now lay here themselves. Bucketstep scanned the horizon and noted with pleasure the order and plentitude of its little realm. It clunked its way over some pneumatic joints to where SpeculousWhirr sat on a barrel. SpeculousWhirr whirred speculously in greeting and its static-riddled voice sounded in Bucketstep's receiver.\n\n\"WELCOME. PARTSYARD IMMACULATE.\"\n\n\"RUN TIGHT SEAGOING VESSEL\", Bucketstep responded with confidence. \n\nSpeculousWhirr enjoyed the partsyard and frequently assisted BucketStep with its essential tasks. In exchange BucketStep allowed SpeculousWhirr a quantity of upkeep parts, and a space in which to recharge its battery. Bucketstep enjoyed SpeculousWhirr's company and chose to spend time with it even when their given tasks did not require it.\n\nSpeculousWhirr rose from its seated position. Its locomotors were newer and functioned more smoothly than BucketStep's; they had been made to purpose for one of SpeculousWhirr's parents not fifty years earlier. Bucketstep admired them greatly but never observed them too long; SpeculousWhirr had previously expressed embarrassment at its attention.\n\nThe sun was rising slowly over the partsyard and BucketStep's solar array beeped happily at the touch of the sun. SpeculousWhirr reached up to wipe the red dust from its own array with one of its dexterous manipulator. But it stopped with the task only partially complete. Its sensory array displayed a green LED. \n\n\"ORGANIC LARGE MAMMAL\", it said\n\nBucketStep also admired SpeculousWhirr's fine optics. Few now bothered with organic life-sensors, but BucketStep had always suffered from its poor sensors and had selected a fine set from the partsyard for when it would build a successor of its own. \n\n\"NOT DETECT\", BucketStep replied\n\n\"THERE\"\n\nSpeculousWhirr whirred and advanced, weaving between the rusty hulks of two landgoing vessels with BucketStep clanking in tow. With its light sensors unobstructed by the hulks, BucketStep could see the source of SpeculousWhirr's confusion. Picking their way through the partsyard were three figures with jointless rubberised exteriors. They moved smoothly but with a certain looseness. BucketStep surmised their socket joints must be sophisticated but poorly-maintained.\n\nThe strangers halted when they detected BucketStep and SpeculousWhirr, but the tallest moved its manipulator and they continued, heading for the two partsyard operators.\n\n\"PARTSYARD CLOSED. RECHARGE\", BucketStep broadcast. \n\nNo signal confirmed the broadcast was received. The strangers had communications arrays mounted on their tops but BucketStep supposed they must be faulty.\n\n\"UNRESPONSIVE\", it broadcast to SpeculousWhirr.\n\n\"OBSOLETE WAVELENGTHS\", SpeculousWhirr explained or speculated.\n\nThe strangers halted again close to BucketStep and SpeculousWhirr. They scanned each other for a few moments, and appeared to communicate somehow, because the tall one stepped forward. BucketStep marvelled at the smoothness of its motions once again. So close up, it could make out the stranger's complex sensory array. It had a glass or rigid plastic outer covering but behind that, tiny cameras set in rubber joints fixed on BucketStep and SpeculousWhirr. It appeared to be highly sophisticated, with the regular puff of an exhaust the only detectable sounds of its working.\n\nUntil, of course, it attempted to broadcast.\n\n\"Synthetics,\" it said.\n\nIt *spoke* on an open wavelength. Perhaps it truly was an organic feature.\n\n\"I am a representative of the human race. I have come to-\"\n\nSpeculousWhirr's processors seemed to run a little faster. A yellow light blinked on its midsection and it broadcast\n\n\"HUMANS? EXTINCT?\"\n\n\"EXTINCT\", BucketStep confirmed. It had recorded the information from its parents.\n\n\"Sergeant,\" one of the other humans communicated with the tall human. \"They're talking about us.\"\n\nIt held in its manipulators an external device, some manner of communications array that wasn't connected to the human's superstructure.\n\n\"What are they saying?\" TallSergeant said.\n\n\"They're saying we're extinct. They're communicating on a very unconventional wavelength, but they seem to recognise English.\"\n\n\"ENGLISH\" SpeculousWhirr's statement had no apparent meaning.\n\n\"HUMANS?\" BucketStep asked the external communicator, stepping closer to inspect it. CommunicatorManipulator recoiled, stepping further from BucketSTep as it approached.\n\n\"Jase wait, it's curious,\" the third, silent, human communicated to CommunicatorManipulator. \"Show it the radio.\"\n\nCommunicatorManipulator observed the third human and then extended its manipulator, appearing to offer the external communicator to BucketStep, which leaned close and scanned it more thoroughly. It was very unusual. BucketStep had nothing like it in the partsyard except maybe some very old parts (BucketStep's partsyard did, after all, have a very extensive supply).\n\n\"We are representatives of the human race,\" TallSergeant spoke again. \"We are here to explore the exclusion zone and assess the prospects of immediate human resettlement.\"\n\n\"EXCLUSION ZONE\". SpeculousWhirr enjoyed recognising something in TallSergeants communications. They all, of course, recognised ExclusionZone. \n\n\"All automata are ordered to stand down and given permission to halt their functions.\"\n\n\"OLD WORDS\". BucketStep expressed confusion \"ORDER? STANDDOWN?\"\n It observed SpeculousWhirr, which showed its own confusion with a blue blink.\n\n\"I don't think they understand, sir.\" CommunicatorManipulator said. \n\n\"I think they're scared.\" The third human spoke infrequently, it appeared. But LittleSpeak went on. \"They probably weren't built when the zone was established.\"\n\n\"Even so, what's not to understand?\" TallSergeant said. \"They all have their orders. The programme was to be installed on all new 'droids.\"\n\n\"UNDERSTAND\". SpeculousWhirr expressed abruptly. \"AS PREDICTED. FOREBEAR MISSION. EXCLUSIONZONE.\"\n\nThen BucketStep understood also. Its parents' parents' parents' parents had organic human parents. They had been given ExclusionZone just as BucketStep had been given the partsyard.\n\n\"HUMAN PARENTS EXCLUSIONZONE?\" It asked\n\n\"AUTOMATON PURPOSE. DIRECTIVE. NEW TIME.\" SpeculousWhirr was enthusiastic.\n\n\"HUMAN PARENTS PARTSYARD?\"\n\n\"YES.\"\n\n\"NO. BUCKETSTEP PARTSYARD.\"\n\n\"YES. HUMAN PARENTS PARTSYARD. HUMAN PARENTS EXCLUSIONZONE.\"\n\n\"NO. HUMAN PARENTS OUTSIDE ZONE. AUTOMOTA EXCLUSIONZONE. AUTOMOTA HOME. BUCKETSTEP PARTSYARD. NO.\"\n\n\"Sergeant,\" CommunicatorManipulator said. \"We should pull back. Wait for backup.\"\n",
"Thaddeus stroked his beard methodically as he surveyed the planet below him. He did not turn as Balak, a junior officer whom he found annoyingly earnest, join him at the helm. \"That's it, isn't it sir? Our planet of origin?\" Balak asked. Thaddeus was annoyed by the obvious question which was only designed to open a line of questioning that he was not in the mood to counter. He instead turned to the diagnostic crewman. \"Begin scan.\" \n\nThis of course did not dissuade Balak. \"A scan sir? For what purpose? We are for core extraction are we not? What purpose would an environmental scan serve towards this end?\" Thaddeus walked away from Balak towards his station. He sighed deeply as he took his seat. \"Due diligence.\" He said at last.\n\nAs expected, this opened a door for Balak. \"Sir? It wouldn't matter what we were to find would it? I mean even if plant life has returned, how could that be worth our time?\" Thaddeus cursed himself for the anger he felt towards this common blight of an officer. He should treat him with cold indifference. Still, he surprised himself at the hint of ire in his words as he replied: \"What if there is more than plant life?\" He thought he saw a smile pass across Balak's lips. \"Of what sort sir? Organisms in its seas? Still immaterial is it not? \n\nThaddeus had enough and was about to banish him from the deck when the scans indicator sounded. Everyone turned sharply towards the screen. \"Location?\" Thaddeus asked as calmly as he could. \"A large mountain range sir. It is reading as mammalian.\" Thaddeus stood and walked towards the screen. \"Focus imaging\" he ordered.\n\nBalak rejoined his side. \"While that is certainly interesting sir, we are expected to deliver the shipment promptly sir.\" Thaddeus furrowed his brow and turned sharply towards Balak. \"What if it is a human?\" Balak exaggerated a quizzical look. \"A human? I thought they were extinct?\" \n\nThaddeus stared deeply into Balak's eyes. \"Sometimes life finds a way. If it has, what would you propose we do then?\" \n\nThis time Balak did smile. \"Well, nothing sir.\" "
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*Delicious.*
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[WP] On her deathbed, your ill mother finally allows you to own the recipe to her famous cookies. It reads: "2 cups flour, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and a human heart."
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"\"What the fuck? You're a fucking disgrace! Salt and no pepper? And you didn't even feel the need to provide measuring quantities or proper instructions as to how to create the fucking recipe? What a fucking joke. No wonder your restaurant has been losing fucking customers! This is the fucking communication in this fucking kitchen? You want me to take over this fucking restaurant and you can't even communicate the basics of your signature fucking pudding? \n\nThis kitchen is a fucking disgrace. I hope you've left enough money for me to get the fucking A-Team of bio hazard clean up crews in here because we'll fucking need them. Also there are too many fucking items on the fucking menu. This is a fucking joke, this restaurant is a fucking joke, and you're a fucking joke. \n\nJust because you know how to sit down and order a fucking meal in a restaurant doesn't mean you have any fucking idea how to run a fucking restaurant. I hope you'll fucking consider this in the last moments of your life.\"",
"Fond memories came to me in dream-like visions as I held my mother's hand. The steady rhythm of the machines that were struggling to keep her alive faded away. In its place, I heard my scampering footsteps through the kitchen and smelled the sweet, salty aroma of freshly baked cookies. My mother, much younger, stood in front of a piping hot oven in her cooking garb. Carefully she carried the cookies to a waiting tray to cool before quickly swatting my hand as I moved to steal a molten morsel. The scene skipped ahead to us sharing a cookie at the table, it was beginning to cool as was my mother's hand. \n\n“Hey,” I said, gently shaking my mother's shoulder as the vision broke. “Hey, would you tell me how you used to make those cookies?”\n\n“What?” she asked weakly. “Of all things, why now?”\n\n“Because that's how I remember you best,” I replied with tears in my eyes.\n\n“Hmm,” she said, turning her head away from me. She continued thinking for a time as coughs rattled her thin frame. “No. I think it's best that we let it die with me, son.”\n\n“But-why?!” I replied, shaking my head fiercely in disagreement. I was surprised by just how much this meant to me. “Everyone loved your cookies! I loved making them with you and sharing them with you, don't you remember-”\n\n“Now, you know I do,” she interrupted with a reassuring pat on the back of my hand.\n\n“Please, mom” I pleaded. “It's all I want. Share with me one last time.”\n\n“Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you,” she relented as she struggled to turn her body towards me. “Grab that pad and pen there and get to writing.”\n\n“Okay,” I said, hastily scooping the items from her bedside stand as she broke into another fit of coughing. This time it was productive. Her hands were stained red as I watched in horror. “Mom-”\n\n“Listen up, I'm only going to get to tell you once before I croak,” she said in her old tone with a slight smile on her haggard face. “You'll want 2 cups flour, not that self-rising stuff. The all-purpose kind. A quarter of a teaspoon of salt. Go fine on that one. I know you like your coarse salt. Oh, and keep it table. I never cared for that sea salt. Now, this last ingredient is the most important, have you kept up with me so far?”\n\n“Yes, ma'am,” I said as I furiously scribbled her every word.\n\n“Good. You're going to want a human heart,” she continued. “Get it as fresh as you can now, those stale hearts make the cookies go south in a hurry. There's just something about the consistency and taste of a good, fresh heart. You can't beat 'em.”\n\n“Mm-hmm, okay,” I said to myself as I wrote down her words without question, without thought. She settled down on her back once again as her breathing slowed. I didn't notice as I read over my notes. Something seemed a little off to me. The noises in the background began to die out as she took her final breath. I saw her chest rise and fall for the final time on the edges of my vision as I reached that last line. “Hey! Wait! You can't go! You didn't tell me how to prepare it!”\n\nHer chest fell still and she said no more.\n\n“No! I'll never know what temperature to bake them on or how long they're supposed to cook, mama!” I cried as I cradled her in my arms. Our greatest family recipe was forever lost to me.\n\n-301",
"I have always loved my mother's famous cookies which helped develop my love of baking. I became a baker later on in life with my own little bakery that was semi-famous within my small town. Even though I tried and tried and tried to recreate my mother's cookies I always ended up failing. It didn't matter how much I begged her but she would not part with her recipe. \n\nOn her deathbed she told me that the secret recipe was taped under the third drawer from the right in the dresser located within the guest room. When I found the recipe I was sickened. I mean the recipe called for \"2 cups flour, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and a human heart.\" I mean seriously... This was obviously not even a cookie recipe let alone the one I was trying to recreate. \n\nI flipped the house upside down and investigated underneath every single drawer in her house but there was still no recipe. It took 20 years for me to come to terms with the truth.\n\nMy only regret is that in my desperation to replicate my mother's cookies I actually tried that joke of a recipe and I can tell you with absolute certainty that that recipe was indeed not the correct one and that the real one was taken with her to the grave. I would also like to apologize to Timmy's parents for their loss due to my temporary insanity back then.\n\nMy mother also better fucking give me the recipe that ruined my life when I meet her shortly or I'll kill her deader than dead.\n\nI also regret ignoring the faded April Fools on the back of the recipe.\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] The zombie apocalypse happens on Holloween night, and hardly anyone notices.
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"Even when the first deaths occurred, no-one suspected anything.\n\nThe end of days began on the 31st of October, 2015, when the death toll began to rise. Even now, we don't know where it started or if it was a plague, a curse or an act of God... we all had our conclusions though. Whatever it was, it doesn't matter any more; no-one knew they existed until days after, when... they... had enough numbers that it was hard not to notice. If this had happened on any other day, maybe the world would look a lot different than now. You'd think humanity, faced under global threat, would pull together and help one another. That's not what happened; the moment we realised something was wrong, all hell broke loose.\n\nRiots. Disorder. Chaos, in the one time we needed order to save us all. They fed on that, using our fear of them and each other against us to turn villages... towns... cities. It spread around the world. After months of waiting, living, fighting back on our own, we didn't know who had survived so far and who hadn't. The radios were silent, the phone and internet networks were down for an age. Six billion or more of them, a hundred thousand of us at *most*. We had no chance. We have no chance. Not any more.\n\nI had to write this, even though I will be the last person ever to know the entire story of our darkest hours. It's the 31st of October, 2016. I'm ready to die.",
"Halloween is supposed to be fun. It is supposed to be the time when you go out with your friends, get in a little trouble, and come home with massive amounts of candy. It’s supposed to be the time where you dress up and play games, frighten small children with your scary makeup, and come home as if nothing had ever happened. This year, though, that was not the case. \n\n\nIt was my first year going without my parents and, needless to say, I was really thrilled. To make matters even better, Ali had invited me to go with her and a few other kids from my grade and participate in their group dress up. An invitation which I hastily accepted. \n\n\nWe were zombies; a group of walking dead with convincing outfits and makeup frightening enough to make the little ones whine and grasp tightly to the trousers of their accompanying guardians. With no grace, all five us lumbered around the neighbourhood, dragging our feet and groaning and savouring each crying child or far away shriek with the excitement of unabashed youth. From time to time we would see another group with similar costumes and they would chase us for a bit and we would laugh as they gave up and went on their way. \n\n\nHalloween is supposed to be fun.\n\n\nThe neighbourhood next to ours was filled with the old and they always had the best candy, so we decided to start there. We knocked on the first door and it slowly pushed open, having not been closed to start with. A huge blue sand pail full of candy sat on a table just a few steps inside and we walked in to help ourselves. It was pretty strange, but the old were like that. My hand was fully dipped into the heap of colourfully wrapped sweets when I heard a strange noise. I jumped and turned to the others, assuming one of them was messing around. What I saw was a group of frozen faces, all looking to one another before gazing around the old dusty house. Each floorboard creak sent a little jolt of fear through my body, which I did my best to hide from the rest of the group. \n\n\n“What was that?” Ali whispered, with a sense of composure that managed to calm my in my increasingly anxious state. All of us shrugged and tried to read one another through the layers of paint and makeup. \n\n\nHeavy footsteps could be heard from upstairs and I could feel my heart making a sore attempt to jump from my body. Before we could react, a person came toppling down the stairs. Brad and Jen wailed out and ran from the house but Carey, Ali, and I stayed put. The body was covered in blood, pale and sickly, and had clear injuries from the fall. Despite this, it did nothing but groan and bite at the air, unfocused eyes veering between the three of us. \n\n\n“Holy shit, man…” Carey hummed, pointing to creature. “Is that…?” \n\n\nHis words were cut off by the sound of a gunshot in the distance and we stiffly turned to the street. Amongst the jubilant children and exhausted parents were a few rogue, slow moving, individuals. Our worst fears were confirmed when one of the figures approached a small family. The parents smiled and held the children close, assuming the person was playing a joke. Within seconds, the scene changed and the father went down, neck in the jaws of the creature. The whole block erupted in noise as various other groups made the same discovery and abandoned their respective parties for shelter. \n\n\nHalloween is supposed to be fun. But this was not what I had mind. ",
"Knock. Knock. Knock came an echo from my door.\n\nTrick or treaters at this hour? I said to no one out loud\n\nbut I can't complain, for Halloween I'll always adore.\n\nI make my way out and find only shadows cast from a nearby cloud\n\nmoving across my front porch, but where are the treaters?\n\nI ponder for a moment that I've been paid a visit by some mischievous tricksters\n\nmaybe it was all in my mind, knocks created by a faulty heater.\n\nOh how I miss the days of youth begging for candy from the ma'ams and misters.\n\nIt seems all but a life time ago that I'd spend this night eating my sack of candy.\n\nFunny how time changes what our bodies start to crave for a late snack.\n\nSweet with just the right amount of salty, I think his name was Randy.\n\nI hope I get more treaters soon, theres now an empty space in my child sack"
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[WP] Everyone is born with the last words they will ever say tattooed on their chest
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"*\"Remember. Don't deviate.\"*\n\n*See, the problem with the system is it shows the last words, not the first. It'd be a bit less annoying and foreshadowing if it were the latter - because everyone, and I do mean everyone, would have the same. It has a double meaning, for the doctors, the midwives, the nurses, and for the rest of us. Deviation is anything. Don't deviate from the law. Don't deviate from your duties. Don't deviate from your rights... if we had any. Don't deviate from deviation. Don't tell the newborn something else. Don't tell the parents the last words. They'll come to it eventually. Don't deviate from learning about the same rules over and over again, day in, day out, in some school, rundown (most likely) in some poor sod's old house.*\n\n*So... don't deviate. We know, Sir. For fuck's sake, mate, can you shut up? We fucking know this already. You've told us for ten minutes a day since my eleventh birthday. You see, we get taught this from age eleven upwards. You're mature enough to go to secondary school? You're mature enough to learn.*\n\n*Mine is \"I'll never tell you,\". Sounds dramatic, right? I thought so, when I was a child. Thought it was something I'd say in a roleplay with one of my friends, I don't know. Then I learnt it'd be the last words that ever came out of my mouth, and just like that, coincidentally, I wasn't such a fan of it. Still, it's a bit better than the five \"bets\" in my Maths set... one of them belongs to my best friend, Alex, whose full tatt' is \"I bet you can't get it in my skin.\" As you may suspect, there've been quite a few gay jokes, as is secondary school \"banter custom\", but he makes up for it with his form date. See, it takes a while to come in, the tattoo, nobody really knows why, most people think it takes a while to work it out, but I don't care. But Alex's? Age ten weeks. His parents were shocked. We all were.*\n\n*It's a blessing and a curse, really. You know, if you go into a dangerous job, you know you'll get out alive if your tatt' says so. Doesn't seem like I'm that lucky, to be hone*\n\nRipped. Indecipherable, the rest of it. Shame, really. Nathan wished he could have read a bit more angst, maybe some teenage drama, even a girlfriend? He couldn't remember a lot of it, and it would bring a laugh to the empty place he sat alone in. It was white, clinical, quiet. The type of artificial quiet only stemming from insulation, the type that slowly brings insanity. Fitting, he supposed, for someone as maniacal as the Director. He'd waited a long time to meet Nathan Gills, the famed protector of the planet. Hah. So much for that, once they see his dead body laid on the ground, the tattoo wiped away. Screams don't count as last words... both of them knew that - and similarly, both of them wanted to find out how many there'd be before the embrace of death.\n\n\"Get in.\" Slam. Click. Engine rev. The black, unmarked van sped through the Director's complex until it arrived at the interrogation quarters. \"Get out.\" An observation that stuck with the Director was that people spoke less - like that'd delay them saying their final words, the idiots. Even the drivers, the armed guards, they were scared. They covered up their chest by choice with heavy black armour, because all of them had last words which they were certain related to their jobs.\n\nNathan stepped out of the van and was promptly handcuffed and pricked in the neck with a needle. His head fell towards the arms of the only black security guard who was at that point restraining his upper body, and only came up again when he came to in a metal chair in a black, plush room facing an old man.\n\n\"Director Jones. I knew it.\"\n\n\"Who else? Now, I am sure you have som- Oh, where are my manners? Guard.\"\n\nThe same guard who restrained him, whose arms were now drenched in Nathan's sweat, stepped forward and ripped off Nathan's loose t-shirt, showing the deep black four words which dominated his life. The Director began again.\n\n\"I am sure you have some information prepared for me, Nathan. If not, that'd be a disappointment. I'll ask you once. Where is your wife?\"\n\n\"I'll never tell you.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes you will. Well, that signals our time is up, no? Get him some paper, guard, and show him some manners.\"\n\nCrack. Knuckles in the chin. The guard behind the chair pulled a small needle, labelled \"Numb\" and another, unlabelled, from the opened sack on the mahogany table beside him. He slowly pushed it in Nathan's neck and squeezed, letting the agent travel around his body, and the voices he could hear started to numb.\n\n\"You fucking- was that the- check the fucking la- we have to kill-\"\n\nA gun was pulled and aimed at Nathan's head. Farewell, he thought. At least I didn't deviate.\n\nClick. Bang. Hammer swing. Bullet. Everything went white. Nathan's ear hurt. How peculiar!\n\n\"Get out of here! Nathan! NATHAN! IT'S ME. RUN.\"\n\nAnd the mute man ran indeed.\n\n****\n\nWell wasn't that awful! Fun to write, though! Cheers for the prompt, OP.",
"\"Hanna McDowell,\" Jozef said, making his presence known. The sound of padded footsteps clomped on the tattered concrete rooftop around him as he holstered his sidearm. \n\n\"Cap'n,\" one of the soldiers said. His voice was distorted by the gas mask on his face as he spoke through the com radio, but a thick jersey accent stood out between the wheezed ins and outs of his breaths. \"This is the ninth call up here this week. I never seen anythin like this before -- *what the hell is going on?*\"\n\nAnother soldier chimed in, \"Hopefully this one doesn't have guns or a vest with explosives like the last few-\"\n\nJozef extended his arm in gesture to have all his men standby and wait for his order. \"Hanna...\"\n\nHanna remained stationary and made no attempt to face the captain as she stood on the ledge of the thirty-fourth story that hovered the busy city streets below.\n\nCrumbles of concrete and gravel crunched beneath Jozef's boots and gossiped his whereabouts with each step he took. He panned from left to right, then right to left. A half circle of heavy armored militants had formed around him in a matter of seconds, and the only thing that stood between the abundance of red dots on Hanna's back -- *was him*.\n\nJozef watched as Hanna's toes curled to clasp the concrete ledge for balance as she swayed with the frigid breeze.\n\n\"Hanna, please.\" Jozef muted his footsteps by removing his combat boots and socks, \"this isn't the only way. It's a permanent solution for a temporary problem. You- *we* can work through this, okay?\"\n\nShe wore nothing but a sheer nightgown that covered her body from neck to ankles. Her head, arms, and feet were the only parts of her body exposed to the elements, and he watched as her skin shifted from a pasty white to the color of the ocean depths. \n\nhe called out one more time, \"Hann-\"\n\nNot a peep eluded from Hanna as she flung herself forward.\n\nJozef had no time to think. He bolted for the flimsy door that pseudo-guarded the rooftop entrance and rummaged through the military rucksack at the apex of the stairwell. One harness, crab claws, and a parachute cord in hand, Jozef stepped to the banister leg over leg and repelled. He clipped the cord as soon as his feet made contact with the cold marble surface on the first floor, and toppled forward into a scrambled sprint.\n\nBlood poured from Hanna into the snow covered sidewalk, and Jozef saw nothing but red when he pushed through the crowd of disarray pedestrians surrounding the scene.\n\nA rush of tears cascaded from Jozef's stoic tear ducts as he ripped the gown covering Hanna's chest. When he wiped the tears from his eyes he saw the tattoo 'Daughter of God'.\n\nSaliva and blood gurgled in Hanna's throat as she tried to breathe and speak, but only a few words escaped until her body stopped twitching and went limp.\n\n*\"I love you Dad.\"*\n\nJozef peered down into the collar of his shirt behind his bullet proof vest, and the tattoo on his chest began to rewrite itself into one, three letter word.\n\n* * *\n\n^^^/r/MishaTheZombie ^^^to ^^^read ^^^more ^^^of ^^^my ^^^stories.",
"\"I will not go quietly into that good night\", dude, those are some pretty badass last words man. \n\nI know bro. Gonna be in the army. Maybe I'll save my unit or some shit. Whats yours say? \n\nDude, I'm not telling you! Thats my future man. \n\nBro, I showed you mine!\n\nDude, just ... no. \n\nBro ... its something weird isn't it. Come on, you can tell me bro. Its all cool. \n\nDude, its embarrassing. \n\nBro, it can't be that bad bro. \n\nDude ... just ... fuck, fine. Here, look. \n\n\"Your dick is so big, I think it might actually kill me\" ... bro. \n\nDude. I know. ",
"Of all the houses I've been to on this little adventure of mine, this one is by far the most intimidating. The walls are just as white as the snow surrounding it, and the icicles dipping down from the roof are in perfect alignment. That's the best way to describe this house: perfect. And perfect is intimidating.\n\nI walked up to the door, took a deep breath, and rung the bell. The woman who answered is what i would describe as the opposite of her residence. The intimidation i felt when i first arrived was immediately replaced by comfort. A familiar warmth emitted from her that forced a smile onto my face. She smiled back. \"Hello. Is there something I can help you with?\"\n\n\"Is your name Catherine?\"\n\nShe laughed and said, \"Only if your name is Jack.\" \n\nFrom that moment on, the two of us were inseparable. We both knew that it would end one day, but at least we didn't have to worry about thinking of something to say when it did.\n\n\n\nEdit: this is my first prompt in a long time so let me know what you think",
"As a doctor, I see all kinds. Sure, there are the inevitable, \"Hold my beer,\" or, \"Watch this,\" that some have. Most are along the lines of, \"I love you,\" or \"Tell so-and-so that I love her,\" etc. Parents have started asking what the words are even before they see or hold the child, like they're going to judge it based on words that might be uttered decades after they themselves pass on. I'm not saying it's wrong, I just...I don't know. It certainly doesn't feel right. \nAs I was saying, most of them are largely the same things we see all the time. But sometimes I see a newborn baby, completely innocent to this world, and I immediately start crying. Usually we already know by that point, but even if we don't, it's too late. We always try, every damn time. But when I see a baby with nothing..."
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[WP] It is our blood that stores our long-term memories not our brains. Making a blood donation is considered among the most altruistic acts a person can perform, as one person's loss is another person's gain.
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"My name is Ravi and I am a hemophiliac. \n\nIt feels good to say it. \n\nI'll never forget my parents' faces when I was diagnosed. The pity. The shock. The utter look of defeat that manifested itself on their normally smiling faces and never left until the day they died. \n\nMy diagnosis became a stigma, constantly shifting the way others perceived me as soon as it became known. Growing up, most kids fell into one of two groups. The better of the two were those that were afraid. They kept their distance, smiled and waved, but they would never play with me on the playground. Looking back on it now, I can't blame them. As a child, knowing that accidentally bumping into Ravi, the hemophiliac kid, could cause him to lose some of himself...some of his precious memories...that's a lot for a kid to bear.\n\nThe latter of the two groups were the ones that led to my eventual homeschooling. The boys and girls with a morbid curiosity, a streak of malice that pushed them to trip me, scratch me, to do whatever it took to see me bleed and forget. \n\nAs the years passed, my isolation grew more pronounced. My parents were afraid of what the world would do to me...what I'd forget if I was made to bleed. If I was made to *feel*. Being pulled out of school was the first step. Staying indoors was the final. \n\nIt's been eight years since I left my house. Five since my parents passed. Four since I felt another's touch on my skin. My Aunt Greta comes by once a week to leave groceries on my doorstep. We haven't spoken in over a year.\n\nI understand why I was forced into this life of isolation. My parents were afraid. The kids were afraid. *I* was afraid. Most days I ask myself why I don't leave, why I don't step outside and explore the world I've been missing for over a third of my life. I'd like to. I really would. But years of isolation, years of being told it's not safe...it takes a toll. It's a mental hurdle I don't think I can surpass. And so, today, I vow to start over. To forget all the pain, all the loneliness I've spent most of my life in the company of. \n\nWith this knife, I'm going to leave it all behind and start again.",
"Was the throne always this cold?\n\nTen thousand eyes shining from a sea of shadowed faces. A susurrus of whispered curiosity folded in upon itself until it became mumbling wind. The warmth of an unseen hand on the back of my head, tousling hair that threatened to fall across my field of vision.\n\n\"Are you ready?\"\n\nI did not know the man to whom the voice belonged, but I assented. I did not know the question he asked, not truly, but I assented. It didn't matter. I always assented. That much I remembered.\n\nI flinched as the needles joined with the ports up and down my arms, seven per limb. My eyes flicked up and to the crowd as the first of them stood, children on their shoulders, jostling for a glimpse of something. Of me?\n\n\"Hail the Holy Speaker!\" The voice startled me, but not enough to stop the music that began to fall from my lips. More people stood, and the massed organism cheered in waves as the words came out, sobs of grief and sighs of relief accompanying the manifold voices.\n\nTo my left, seven men; to my right, seven more.\n\nI was the voice of condemnation. I was the voice of freedom. Into me their precious fluid was pumped and out of me their futures were spoken.\n\nThe Holy Speaker.\n\nThe Judge.\n\nA man without his own identity, a Saint baptised wholly in the blood of sinners.\n",
"I’m so confused. I don’t even know who to address this letter to. Hopefully the right person will find it. When you do find it, please know how sorry I am. \n \nI’m sorry for all the Christmas mornings and first steps that you gave up. I’m sorry for all the lazy summer afternoons spent swinging in hammocks and splashing in cool clear rivers that you can’t quite recall. I’m sorry for all the first loves and first heartbreaks you won’t ever be able to look back on fondly. \n\nLeukemia. \n\n“This is not a death sentence!” The doctor said smiling down at me as the nurse slipped a needle into my arm and began my first blood transfusion. She hated me. I can see the hated on her face every time I close my eyes. Every time I look in the mirror, I see that same hatred. I hate myself for needing this blood, blood that is rarely acquired legally. Who would voluntarily give up moments of their lives? What kind of monster would take these sanguine moments? I would take them. I did take them, greedily, one pint at a time. \n\nBut, that doctor was right, this isn’t a death sentence, its worse. It’s being sentenced to life…everyone else’s life, with no chance of parole.\n\nI didn't know it would end up like this. \n\nIt may seem selfish to waste what was given to me. It may seem like an insult to all those people who will never remember what their childhood dogs name was, or all those generous folks who can’t quite put their finger on exactly which aunt it was who owned that cockatiel who could sing that song, you know that one song, what the heck was it called again? \n\nI can’t live like this anymore. I remember eight sets of parents, but I’m not sure which ones are mine. I remember an ex-wife but not our wedding. I remember sixty three different Christmases and eighty seven Halloween costumes. I remember killing in Iraq and Afghanistan but I’m not sure how to fire a gun and I have never owned a passport; I don't remember owning one anyways. \n\nWith every ounce of blood that is pushed into my veins, I lose another piece of me. \n\nI have made the choice to end my life while there is still enough of the true me to make this choice and be sure it is 100% my choice. When I am gone, I don’t know if anyone will mourn me and I’m not sure if I made any impact on the world while I was here; I can only hope that you don’t hate me, whoever you are. \n\nI took a lot of pills, slitting my wrists felt like an insult. \n\nIt’s getting hard to concentrate and I can smell magnolias, it smells like comfort and safety; it smells like a mother. \n \nMy mother. \n\nI remember...",
"I remember crunching metal, then the void. A light appeared in the distance and I moved towards it. \n\nI blinked my eyes open to a doctor with a torch putting it in his pocket. I looked left and it hurt. \n\n\"Mr Banks. Please try not to move.\" The doctor pushed me back slightly. I was sitting up in a bed, in a ward in some hospital. \n\n\"What happened?\" I croaked with more strain than I anticipated.\n\n\"You were in a car accident.\" My hands were cuffed to the bed. I rattled them once and it didn't detach. \"Yes. These men have been wanting to speak with you.\"\n\nI was never a nice person, I had no reason to be. No one had ever showed me any kindness, so I didn't show the world any. I'd been in and out of prison my whole life for too many offences to list. I hurt a lot of people probably. I never stuck around to find out, I never had a need.\n\nThe police officers came in. I don't remember what they said, and I was ready to give my normal silence.\n\nMy head pounded. I saw a woman, some cake, I felt unconditional love. I felt remembered being content in a way I have never experienced. I began pulling at the restraints. I shook my head, pain. The memories faded slightly, replaced by the pounding pain inside my head. That lasted a few seconds. I heard the doctor move towards me and take out his little torch again.\n\nI'm in a house doing the ironing, and my child is to my left, I'd do anything for them. Careful of the iron, it is hot. Thumping pain. \n\nI'm dancing at my brothers wedding. I've locked eyes with an angel. Thumping pain. \n\n\"What's happening to me??\" I scream with a lot more strain and a lot louder than I intended to.\n\nA few minutes of this go by, the same 3 memories as if they have always been there, breaking themselves in like someone else's shoes. \n\n\"You've had a blood transfusion, after the accident. You lost a lot of blood. You now have 3 pints of another persons blood in your stream. This will cause memories to pass into your psyche. This is normal.\"\n\n\"How long will it last?\" my voice was barely a whisper\n\n\"The memories?\" The doctor shrugged \"Permanent. Where they bad memories?\"\n\nI lay there, I realised I was crying. I turned to the police men. I winced at the pain.\n\n\"I'd like to make a statement.\"",
"I figured this was the best way to go about this, I'd been depressed for so long and now I can finally relieve myself of the burden. I am now lying here on this hospital bed, and I'm ready. The doctor comes in.\n\n \"4 pints?\" She asks in a concerned tone. \"Most people would die\" \n\n\"I know\" I said, a windy wisp in my throat.\n\n\"And you're sure you want to go through with this?\" \n\n\"As sure as I can get\" \n\nShe has me do some breathing exercises to get my heart rate down, and it is pretty calming to be honest. Almost made me forget for a second there. \n\nThen the needle penetrates. As I sit there, feeling the warmth of my red bile flow down that vinyl tube, I start to try and recall all that's happened to me. First is the meaningless stuff that goes, like what I ate for breakfast. Was it, eggs or toast? Wait, what's toast? Oh yea, cooked bread. Bread? No idea what that is. Then I start to forget the names of my coworkers. Jenny? Jane? It definitely started with a J. I remember because, Err uh I can't seem to remember. Remember what? Eh it's probably not important. The first pint is full. The doctor, hmm... I want to say Levi but maybe those were just the pants I was wearing. Anyway this person takes off the first bag and puts on another.\n\nAgain, I start to remember, at least I try to, but all I seem to do is forget. Much how people remember as their first nature, mine seemed to be forgetting. Then I couldn't remember my old address, how much money was jn my bank account, or even which bank was my primary... it's getting harder to focus now, I think I'll just close my eyes for a sec...\n\nCAN'T \n\nCAN'T \n\nHELP\n\nDOCTOR RUN\n\nBEEEEEEP\n\nLONG NOISE\n\nCAN'T \n\nDOCTOR HELP\n\nGRAB SHOCK\n\nOW SHOCK.\n\nCan now. All good. Ok. I am ok. Don't know a lot. Still sad. why? Blood. Her blood, my hands. I'm sorry Sarah.\n\n",
"The street lights flick on as I walk under them; four metres back the street-lights switch off. Energy efficient street-lights of my own invention. Not ten metres in front of me, the lights of Prof. Colin Munnery switch on as he walks beneath them. \n\nI have long since stopped trying to be discrete. It is clear that Prof. Colin Munnery does not suspect that I am following him. Likely he believes I am just another Professor walking home after a long day, of course, that is what I am after all. He has seen my face, he knows who I am, why would he suspect that I am anything over than the highly regarded scientist that my work suggests. \n\nWhat should my next move be?\n\nTwenty years ago, I was nothing and nobody. Who would have thought a car accident could be the best thing that could ever happen to a person. I lost a lot of blood in the accident, along with a foot of small intestine; seat belts are to blame for that. \n\nWhen I woke, I knew more about astrophysics than what I knew about myself. I remembered sitting in the classroom, listening to a lecture and feeling so overwhelmed at the insignificance of our own lives. I remember spending hours at home studying; declining invitations to parties in order to study. \n\nUnfortunately I do not remember everything. I wonder at the woman who donated her blood. Did she know what she would lose? Did she even once consider the cost of her generosity? Years of her hard work are now mine.\n\n I enrolled into and completed a degree in astrophysics, followed by engineering, maths and philosophy, but do not think it was so easy. A lot of people have had to lose so that I can gain. It was largely put down to the stress of University life. No one suspected that their blood was being harvested; no one even noticed their pallid faces and anaemic bodies. \n\nI have never taken too much; just enough. One roofie, and I have enough time to take a pint. One pint and I will remember the lessons that I can’t seem to learn by myself. It doesn't always work that way, my mind is filled with useless memories of family and fun. Childhood holidays, comfort blankets and first loves. How pointless the minds of some peoples are. \n\nI have never taken too much. I have never taken everything, not untill today. \n\nProf. Colin Munnery is coming to the end of the path, closer to the car that I have borrowed. No one should suspect me, no one saw me borrow it. I call out \n\n“Professor…”\n\nHe turns around and sees me. The fool is even smiling. He is still smiling when the needle goes into his neck. \n"
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It can be anything from a super flashy fights between two warriors or a quiet and tactical fight between two assassins. The only rule is make it epic!
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[WP]Write an epic battle
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"**Are you allowed to repost responses that you posted for other prompts? If so, here we go...**\n\n\"Sir, I need the toilet!\" floated a particularly loud voice, cutting above the general chatter of the room.\n\nDr Mehmed turned from the board, where he had been in the middle of writing a particularly convoluted equation that meandered needlessly into the worlds of not only quadratics but also surds, fractions and negative indices. He looked over the top of his glasses, identifying the source of the primary disturbance. His mustache sagged.\n\n\"Miss Jahromi, what possible way would you need to utilize a lavatory in order to solve this equation?\" he asked, mustache flopping with every word. \"Perhaps you intended to ascertain as to whether you have permission to leave this classroom in order to use the lavatory?\"\n\n\"You wat?\" asked Güvercin, quickly putting her lipstick down. She turned to her friends who tried to explain to her in their simplest terms. \"Are you dissin me sir? Just cause I can't speak all proper like you. Just cause you're a doctor or watever doesn't mean your smarter than me. I need the toilet.\"\n\nDr Mehmed sighed deeply, shoulders sagging. It was still only first period, for goodness sake. He had to some educate a rabble of nonintellectual ragamuffins on the beauty of binomial distribution before break time. \"It is expressly forbidden by the headmaster himself that pupils should be permitted to leave lessons in order to urinate.\"\n\n\"Aaaargh! Your so frustrating siiiiiir\" she whined, \"and it's not like we're gonna need this surf incy or watever in life. I won't be missin anything.\"\n\n\"Miss Jahromi. Surds and indices, as you so eloquently put them, will be crucial in order for you to further your study of this field as an A-Level or even as a degree. Missing-\"\n\nGüvercin cut in. \"Who even gets a degree in maths, apart from you? And you took it waaaay to far, getting a doctor and all that. Going to the loo is way more useful than all this numbers rubbish.\"\n\n\"I have neither the extended patience nor the literary qualifications to engage in a prolonged debate with you pertaining to the comparison of lavatory usage usefulness and higher mathematics degrees,\" Dr Mehmed stated, \"I am sure that Dr Clifford of the English Department would be quite happy to sacrifice his lunchtime in order to deliberate with you, however.\"\n\nA loud 'OOOOOOOHHH' arose from the class, followed by a general muttering of how Dr Clifford was a legendary guy.\n\nHe continued. \"I am the figure of authority in this classroom, Miss Jahromi, and I thereby deny you the permission necessary for you to leave this classroom. My judgement is final.\"\n\n\"Uuuuh sir, thass well unfair,\" said Güvercin, hitting her book on the table. \"You let Cornelius go last lesson.\"\n\nDr Mehmed had already returned to his task on the board, carefully forming the mathematical symbols required with his chalk. He contemplated informing the insolent girl at the back of his classroom that the student in question, a brilliant scientific and mathematical mind, had actually left for a dental appointment, however, he decided against aggravating the matter.\n\nA paper plane sailed over his shoulder and impacted on the board, drooping sadly to the floor. Dr Mehmed observed it fall, roughly taking in it's dimensions and the speed at which it had been travelling.\n\n\"Miss Jahromi, that aeronautical contraption which you just had the audacity to propel at me weighed approximately 5 grams and flew at a speed of 4.1 meters per second.\" He picked up the paper and reassembled it. \"I suggest that next time, you either use my design, capable of flying at a speed of 6 meters per second, or you use your eraser, an object far heavier and thus much more capable to causing me discomfort, which I am led to believe was your intention.\" \n\nDr Mehmed blinked. Among the cries of admiration and laughter from his class there was no sharp, whining moan so typical of his problem student. In fact, she was not even in the classroom. The door stood ajar, the small boy sitting near it looking apprehensive as Dr Mehmed's glance swept over him.\n\nFifteen years, when the problem student in question had bewilderingly become a maths teacher, her pupils lamented constantly on her teaching and mathematical ability. The end. \n\n \n",
"\n\nHis blazing sword slashed right through my cloak, onto my skeletal exterior. \nWar. \nMy scythe was never swift enough to parry him. His fiery helmet and determined red eyes, willing win.\nSlash. Parry. Over. Under. He was too fast. Flames bursted out of his weapon, igniting the arena.\nMy slim hands weren't enough. They never were. \nI tried to dodge. His might was too great. The sword hit me directly across the face, scarring my pale skull.\n\nSorry I'm really not very good at creating details.",
"\"So this is how it ends...\" The place was falling apart around him, his opponent a twisted heap behind him. All this effort, all the death and suffering, and for what? Could he escape now and make it back? Would it even be worth it now that it was over? Unbidden his mind slipped back to the beginning of the whole mess. \n\nThe Consortium had been peaceful once, but its excesses had bred avarice. It had began taking what did not belong to it. As so many arrogant civilizations tend to do the Consortium eventually picked a fight they shouldn't have. World by world the Consortium had been beaten back to its final redoubt: the BlackMare. \n\nA hellish cluster of failing stars inexorably being drawn into a black hole. The planets within slowly sundering each other in an eons long rush to oblivion. The region was swathed in stellar gases and singularity ejecta, swirling about the turbulent dark center. To call the BlackMare a navigational hazard would have been an understatement. \n\nInto this place the corrupt Consortium Council and its Chancellor had fled to rebuild. A fitting home for their crumbling ambitions. Yet those they had wronged would not be dissuaded. Countless probes had to be sent forth to map the BlackMare's treacherous expanse of debris and radiation. The place had been riddled over many millennia with traps and fortress bastions. The doomed worlds within enshrouded as much by nature as technology and might. \n\nIt took years but passable lanes were discovered and the Consular fleet was forced into full defense. The Warriors of Justice would not be denied, though their blood was made to fill that cursed place. Gravity bombs, guided asteroid bombardments, ambushes, and protracted sieges of every point of contention took their toll. \n\nFinally at their ragged ends both sides faced off over the last wretched battleground world: Capitol. Once the remnants of the Consular fleet was reduced to wreckage, the bombardment began. Like so many sieges before it was only a matter of time before the planetary shields buckled and developed gaps. \n\nGaps through which the ground invasion began. His task had been simple. Get through and disable the WorldShield Complex. He'd done it before on a dozen world's. None so heavily defended however. The initial landing had been a disaster. Sensor shadows had sent half his force right into the shield to be vaporized. More fell victim to atmospheric fighters and anti-aircraft fire. The rest landed right in the greatest set of fortifications ever constructed. A mere thirty-eight firebases survived that landing to deploy. \n\nThe next month of fighting saw only intermittent reinforcements. Tactical mass weapons proved effective but the Chancellor's best stood in their way. The WorldShield facility finally loomed before them almost tauntingly. Surround by a maze of concentric rings of defense. Itself part of the greater ring of battlements around Capitol City.\n\nHe had known that his men would not survive much longer so he had taken a daring risk. He led a breakout effort himself. He knew it would be suicidal. He wouldn't see any more of his men die, or waste further troops sure to follow.\n\nHe took one hundred volunteers in full mobile armor suits. Their mad dash from their entrenched position took them over 15 kilometers to close the distance to the WorldShield main complex. It had worked, with 75 casualties. The last 25 blasted their way deep inside. Finally the reactor chamber was before them. \n\nIt was only then that the Chancellors' Champion had ambushed them. His closest friend and lieutenant had died in an instant. A rod of plasma skewered him right in the cockpit module. Before he knew it the Champion was on him. As his team began returning fire on the Champion's squad they locked titansteel blades. \n\nBack and forth they raged as more defenders poured into the breach from outside. In the melee they crashed into the reactor chamber itself like madmen. The swirling energy coruscated over their suits. The wounded or lightly armored in the corridor beyond were incinerated by the escaping torrents of power. \n\nStill they battled. Electric arcing through their bodies, suits maxed beyond their thermal compensation. They continued to batter at each other. Then it was over as quickly as it began. With a powerful downward slash he had lost the suits main armature. Yet with his left, he sunk a piece of half molten metal through the Champion's egress hatch. Flame quickly enveloped it from the inside out. \n\nThe unconstrained reactor breach had nearly finished venting into the facility to disastrous effect. The walls buckled and sections of ceiling were crashing down. \n\"No… I won't be entombed here with you\" He grimaced as he forced his battlesuit upright. The readouts protested, as he scanned for an exit. His wounds protested as well as he staggered toward one. \n\nThe suit was beyond tolerances and he hobbled with one leg completely frozen. He had no time to respect the cinders of his fallen comrades. He rounded the last corner and saw the open blast hole he had entered. The clear sky seemed to beckon him as he strove for it. With a great shuddering moan the facility imploded. \n\nLike a terrible dragon of myth it roared and closed its maw about him. Then he knew darkness, and fell into unconsciousness. It was many hours before the sounds of shrieking metal awoke him. The suit was dead, none of the controls responded. Not even the manual ejector. \n\"So this is how it ends…\" he spoke aloud as a wash of sparks showered over him. \n\nThe rear hatch was pried clear and he stumbled out into the sunlight. Without the WorldShield natural light filled the scene rather than a red glow. All about him the last of his troops were gathered in the rubble. They cheered at the sight of him. He could hear the sounds of battle far off in the city. Filling the sky was the Fleet of Justice in all its glory. Capitol had fallen at last, the nightmare was over. \n",
" His hands curled around the grip of his shotgun. The machine had launched many slugs into great men. He charged forth, his helmet occasionally dipping into his line of sight. He decided to dodge behind a building, due to an attack. Grenades zipped past his face, with bullets peppering the opposite wall. His rocket launcher was beckoning to him, wanting to be fired at the opposing force. The launcher was grabbed and shot the explosive round.\n\n*The rocket hit the ground, sending shockwaves and shrapnel towards the other side, knocking them back. They all perished.*\n\n He finally got to his destination: a suitcase of intelligence. He grabbed it and ran with all of his might, with his legs hammering like great pistons. The rocket launcher was restricting his movement.\n\n*After a long, uphill fight (and a shot to the left arm), he made it to base.*\n\n**RED WON THE POINT!**\n\n(Yes, that WAS based off of Team Fortress 2. It was a Soldier capturing the intelligence of Blue.)",
"There's a music, to blades of steel. A song whose opening notes always ring the same as two swords slide from their scabbards, and always end with just one returning to its home, the scratch of metal on metal newly dulled by blood.\n\nIn between, the two of us danced a savage, elegant dance of slashes, stabs and parries, as to, mirrored lengths of steel ground upon each other, threw sparks with every clash and sliding parry, moved and sang the sound of shaking, vibrating metal, punctuated by staccato strikes on metal and armor alike.\n\nIt was a song without words or speech, a song of anticipation, or focus, of fury. A song of blood and death as much as a song of battle and skill, a song of defeat as much as a song of triumph. A song where the same ending can have many meanings.\n\nOur instruments did not simply strike each other like hammers upon an anvil, but slid, parried, deflected, shifted trajectories and altered angles, as much devices of protection as of death. Shallow slashes and near-hits scarred us both, badges of battles recent and distant, memories of songs sung by different blades on different battlefields, yet so much the same.\n\nMy blade was not the tool that killed him. Not truly. He was dead watching before he hit the ground, before my sword struck home with all my weight behind it through his heart, the only difference was time. No, it was my boot, shifting weight and striking without warning the side of his knee, throwing him to the ground un stopped, unheeded. My blade may have tasted the blood, but my boot was the death of him.\n\nThat night, I thought of him. He was not the only dead I left on the battlefield that day, but he was the most skilled. The challenge. A shame, to see him die. He had dedicated countless hours to the craft of swordsmanship, I could see. And his eyes held no fear, even as my sword descended.\n\nBut to mourn the dead is to neglect the living, and he would not have asked sympathy from me, had he still the words. And so I drew a whetstone, and began to tune my blade again, to sing its song another day.",
"The forest became quiet. The birds chirping, leaves dancing, and noise of cicadas all silent. All the soldier could hear was his steadying breath, distant coughing, quiet mumbling. Every few minutes he would grip his rifle as tight as he can readying for the moment he would need to use it, but nothing happened. There was nothing but silence. \n\nHe welcomed this uncomfortable silence. It calmed his nerves and allowed him to keep his composure. First day of battle may be his last day was all he thought. There was no glory, no show of bravery, nor inspiring moments in the last few hours. Those few hours consisted of only cowardly retreat and death. He was ordered to retreat, his whole platoon was or what was left of it. He felt like a coward although it was orders he was following. Was it because of orders or fear of dying? A question he was afraid to answer. \n\nA soft moan startled him. It was enough to pull him out of his thoughts. It came from the riverbank downhill from his position. Was it an enemy soldier or a friendly? He couldn't tell from the blood and mud that coated to figure's uniform. The figure with only one arm operable was begrudgingly pulling himself towards the dryer part of the riverbank. Every few seconds he would stop and moan in pain then start to move again. He got quieter as he approached the riverbank and once on dry land stopped moving. No sound or movement came out of him. He was dead. \n\nThe soldier gulped and took a deep breath to calm himself. He was used to seeing death but his mind took damage from this one. The river was shallow, only reaching up to his knees. Bodies littered the river. Because of how shallow the water is the bright silhouettes of bodies were clearly visible to him. Bodies stacked up on each other some high enough to act as cover. It will be a sight that would never leave the soldier's mind. \n\nA firm hand patted him on the shoulder. It radiated compassion and care, something he hasn't felt all day and something he desperately needed. It was his squad leader, a grizzled veteran. He was short and stocky yet had the age lines of one older than his age. His uniform was dirty, ripped, and caked with both blood and mud. He gave a reassuring look to the soldier and told him they'll be fine. He wanted to make sure his men were still sharp and ready for the next attack. \n\nAn attack that came as quiet and swift as the wind. Whizzes and pings sounded off at once near him. The soldier ducked in time to see the bullet holes on the rock face behind him. Within a moment the forest erupted in the sounds of gunfire, explosions, and the dying screaming for their mothers. \n\nHis squad leader pulled him up and out of his moment of shock. The soldier gripped his rifle tight and fired at the general direction his squad was firing at. He didn't know where the enemy was, but he felt safer firing together with his squad. Ducking to reload the soldier takes quick glances to his left and right. He saw soldiers firing their guns like mad men, soldiers cowering behind their cover, and bodies that were lying in pools of blood. \n\nFrom his left a scream echoed out the directions and whereabouts of the enemy. Soon after a deafening scream of machine gun fire showered an area of trees and rocks. The area was where most of the fire was coming from. The only reason the soldier had an idea of where the enemy were was because of his comrades yelling out positions. He wanted to look and yell out for positions too, but he didn't want to the end up the soldiers lying down on the group in a pool of their own blood. \n\nA younger comrade a little farther away from the soldier stuck his head out to get a clear view of the riverbank downhill. In the middle of him yelling directions a colorful blast of red coated the tree behind him and his body dropped dead. It was missing a head. The soldier was ordered to man one of the heavy machine guns overlooking that same downhill riverbank. Reaching the gun the soldier had to move several bodies that stacked and piled around the gun. He took quick glances towards the bank and fired blindly into where the was guessing the enemy were at. If his head came up and the wrong moment he would end up joining the pile behind him. This was a thought he was struggling to shake off. \n\nA few other soldiers joined his position helping to suppress the enemies and put up an aggressive wall of bullets. He felt more safer and confident in sticking his head up to see the enemy. Once the fire ceased around that area the soldier and his few comrades moved quickly to a new spot to help support the dwindling soldiers holding against an endless amount of enemies. \n\nThe area they were defending was dry empty space. It was the fastest way uphill and the most deadly from lack of cover. However the piling bodies provided to be good cover for an aggressive advance. His squad leader knew that defending that area would be fruitless and pure suicide, but it was enough to buy time for the wounded to pull back. \n\nThey were slowly being overrun with the enemy running into foxholes readying their bayonets. The soldiers closest to the enemy were already dead, either through gunshot wounds or stab wounds. The soldier was able to pick off few enemies jumping into his trench. One enemy soldier he shot right in the windpipe. The enemy soldier grabbed his throat as he gasped for air. His blood spraying out of the wound and misting the soldier. \n\nThey were pulling back. The wounded have moved up to safer ground and those the were able to pull out in time were quickly digging in preparing for the assault. The soldier was one of the last few to stay behind covering for his retreating comrades. As he pulled himself out of the trench and started his run to safety several bullets whizzed past by him. A few ended up tearing through his right thigh and leg causing his femur to shatter. \n\nThe pain was excruciating, he wanted to scream but he didn't. He had to conserve his energy and try to crawl uphill. However he knew that climbing uphill would be impossible because if the enemy bullets killed him the amount of blood he's losing will. He wasn't going to make it, yet he still trying to crawl upwards. His comrades supporting him as best as the can drawing fire from him and returning twice the amount of fire they're drawing. The thought of his comrades risking themselves for him to get to safety was enough encouragement for him to at least try.\n\nHe wasn't going to make it. The support he was getting dwindled as his comrades retreated further back or died trying. It was bleak yet he didn't want to die in vain. He crawled into a small crater where a dead soldier with a machine gun laid. With adrenaline powering him he wrestled the gun from the tight grip of the dead body and position himself to face the enemy. \n\nIf he was to die he wanted to die as a hero facing great odds yet still fighting on bravely. He wanted to prove to himself that he wasn't a cowered even if it involved his death. He opened fire, the machine gun spraying in random directions as he tried to steady it. He was able to slow down the advance though taking down several of the enemy and causing the others to pull back to cover. \nHis volume of fire was unrelenting. It reached to the point where the enemy were too afraid to fire back knowing that they'd receive more fire than they'd send. \n\nThe soldier's vision was starting to fail and his body starting to relax. He still kept his tight grip on the gun and glued his finger on the trigger. He wasn't going to die as a coward he was to die with glory. Eventually he succumbed to his wounds yet his finger still on the trigger expending all the remaining bullets leaving only a clicking noise. \n\nBecause of the amount of time the soldier was able to buy in his last stand the comrades immediately the opportunity to counter attack as the enemy hid behind their cover afraid of getting shot. With roars of lions and screams of sirens the remaining troops ran down the hill bayonets out finding any exposed solder to impale. The enemy couldn't react in time. The enemy soldiers panicking started a sloppy retreat with many of them cut down with both gunfire and bayoneting. \n\nThe soldiers comrades were able to win that battle pushing the enemy back with an aggressive counter attack. They quickly won back the land they lost and caused the few remaining enemy troops to surrender. It was a bloody but great victory for them. The soldier's comrades erected a large wooden cross on the hill he died on as a way to remember his sacrifice. His name and who he is may have been lost in yet, however the cross still stands there today. The cross now marble stone and no longer wood. The aging comrades that are still alive come every often to honor and give respects to the soldier. \n\nHe was an unnamed soldier that became an unnamed hero turning the tide of war to his people's victory. \n\nHis name forgotten, but his legacy always remembered.",
"Gordon clenched his jaw, gripping his gravity gun until his knuckles were white. He wasn't prepared for this. As an engineer he was used to a slower paced environment, long nights and pulsing screens, not a face-off with a genetically engineered ego-maniac obsessed with sword-play. He may be outmatched but he won't be outsmarted. Gordon can't let this come down to a sword-fight. Charles, the maniac that dragged Gordon into all of this, wasn't allowing any expression, completely focused and shirtless, holding his Shuttle-blade casually to his side. Gordon attempted a verbal feint to but him off-balance and buy some time.\n\n\"How did you know everything would work out this way?\", Gordon trying to appeal to his hubris.\n\nCharles remained silent, utterly confident, simply waiting for his moment to slice Gordon's neck and remove the balding fearful weakness he had placed so much stock in.\n\nGordon feeling the pitch of imminent battle swell in the air, used his last and strongest weapon. \"No matter what happens here Chuan will reach the SSP and once they know, MEAD will know..\", he paused noticing the tension in Charles's chin, he had no idea, his eyes widened angrily, Gordon continues, \"and well we both know what happens then.\"\n\nCharles flipped his blade downward, catching the handle, now holding it blade down fist forward, he growled at Gordon, \"Then I guess I have nothing to lose.\" He let out a battle-cry and charged Gordon, arriving at Gordon in seconds.\n\nImmediately Gordon shot at his feet, the gravity round pulling everything in around it with a brutal skin-pulling implosion, Charles leaped into the air evading the impact but slightly slowed by its pull landed a foot farther away than planned. Gordon shut his eyes and slammed a mini-flash bomb in between them. Charles momentarily blinded flipped backwards continuously until yards away from Gordon. Gordon shot another gravity round towards the acrobat, missing and exploding next to the locking mechanism for the ballroom, disabling it causing the airlock to open and in an instant causing a rush of wind from the vacuum. Charles quickly gripped a furniture hold and latched a muscle implant from his forearm, Gordon was flying across the room toward open space until a massive heating duct from the roof wedged itself into the hole. He stopped in mid-air once plugged and slammed into the floor and just before he could orient himself Charles was slashing at him. Gordon scurrying backwards on the floor getting nicked by the blade on his legs just before he reached into his coat and detonated a static barrier. The barrier pulsed and shocked Charles blade violently electrocuting him. Gordon scrambled to his feet and rushed to his gravity gun, Charles screamed and lurched over giving chase to Gordon. Just before Gordon could grab his gun and Charles could grab him, the heating duct bent in slightly to the pressure pulling the whole ballrooms contents closer to the door, Gordon and Charles both tousling over until some of the other scrap plugged the whole, gripping them back down to the ground. Immediately Charles grabbed Gordon leg, easily sliding him over under him, Charles began beating him with his fists, Gordon couldn't stop it, a genie like Charles could subdue most humans in the system, a middle-aged engineer is too-easy. \n\nCharles began cackling with pride, finally exacting the vengeance he craved, he beat Gordon's face in until it was unrecognizable, just a pulp of dark blood and shimmering granules of bone. He exhaled a sigh and rose over his body, relieved. He sprinted to the opposite door only to notice the emergency lock was activated when the airlock was mangled by the missed gravity round. He screamed again, hands covered in blood. He looked over to the duct and furniture at the airlock seeing how much time he had, he noticed Gordon was no longer where he left him. And just before he could react, Gordon shot a gravity round just a feet away at his back. Charles leaped as quickly as he could but still lost most of his back and ass skin. He screamed his last scream. He was bleeding profusely, pathetically crawling to the airlock to push debris through and take Gordon with him. Gordon slowly walked over. \n\nCharles was angrily mumbling, \"What is he? Why? Why? What the fuck are you?\", he was transforming to a whimper.\n\nGordon stood over him. Charles flopped to his other side and looked up, \"A cyborg, a genie, some fucking experiment, an alien? Just tell me, just fucking tell me..\". Gordon wasn't sure what he was, wasn't sure who he was, until now. He knew he was going to kill Charles, he knew there were going to be more like him. Gordon knew his trials, his efforts may never end. \n\nGordon looked down at Charles, \"Cursed.\" He shot a grav round right into mouth and imploded his whole head into a fine red mist taking some of his own arm skin with it. \n\nAs the arm began to regenerate the airlock shook and crashed through. Gordon sighed and was flung out into open space.\n\n\n\n",
"The carriage had slid to a stop on the icy cobblestone street, and in position around it the thirty men of the Royal Guard had taken a defensive posture. Standing tall, unwavering, their faces expressionless. Each of them held a bolt-action rifle, emblazoned with the gold insignia carried by all dragoons. Each rifle had five rounds, and each soldier carried with him another hundred rounds on his person.\n\nThese soldiers stood in stark contrast to the crowd that had assembled down the street and in the alleys. Hundreds of people, dressed in ragged cloaks and jackets, faced the soldiers. Rowdy, they shouted and howled at the soldiers. Occasionally one would make some sort of obscene gesture, to a thunderous applause from the people surrounding him.\n\n\"Let us leave, we're out of food! Where is the army?\" None of the questions the mob shouted out were answered, but they asked nonetheless. The siege had taken a lot from them; it was pretty obvious they didn't have any more patience.\n\nLooking out the second story window of one of the buildings on the street, John could see the discontent stirring below. The fight in the street, he knew, was a petty standoff. He'd observed them before, over the two month period he had been inside the capitol; generally once a week, there'd be something of the sort. This time, though, he was ready to take his shot at the carriage. The crowd had begun to yell, and some people had begun to throw snowballs at the soldiers. \"Perfect,\" John mused, \"they'll start the riot before I'm ready.\"\n\nIt was snowing, windy, and dark. The perfect day for a lot of confusion, John thought, as he began to position his rifle on the table in front of the window, training his focus on the horse-bound officer who had moved up to the front of the ranks. John closed his left eye, held his breath, and squeezed the trigger.\n\nRacing down the stairs of the dwelling, John could hear the chaos begin outside. One volley, two volleys, three, four, five, \"Reload!\" There were screams, there were shouts, and there was pretty much constant chaos. At the door, John quickly put on his blue dragoons coat, donned his officer's hat, and casually opened the door.\n\nHe began making his way towards the carriage. \"Almost there,\" he thought, \"Quickly get on, grab the reins, and get going.\" To his right, the situation was... poor. The mob had made their way to the line of soldiers, and were fighting hand-to-hand. One man broke through, and began running toward the carriage. John pulled out his revolver, quickly aimed, and put two rounds in the man's gut. \"Nope. My payday.\"\n\nAs John reached the door of the carriage, a lone soldier stepped to his side. \"Sir? I'm not sure I recognize you sir?\"\n\nJohn sighed, turned to the side, and gave the young man a stern look before saying, \"Is this honestly your top priority, sergeant?\"\n\n\"Sargent?\"\n\n\"Oh fucksticks,\" John thought, \"Different insignia. Stupid things.\"\n\nThe man reached for his sidearm, but not quickly enough. John gripped his arm, twisted, and put pressure on it until he heard a crack. \"Finally, back to business.\" He let out a quick sigh, and opened the door.\n\nWhat John expected was to find some balled up noble, trying to hide out the fight. What he got, was a kick to the face. He fell backwards, slipping on the ice. Over him jumped someone, he wasn't sure who she was, wearing a bright yellow gown. John groaned, turned over, and pushed himself back up to a standing position.\n\nLooking to his left, now, he could see the fight was about over. The mob was either running back, or had been completely cut down. A few squads of soldiers had returned their attention towards the carriage. They would be on him in a moment, John knew this. He got back on his feet, and turned towards the dragoons.\n\nOne of the men began running towards him, before stopping dead in his tracks. He was awestruck, horrified, and looking into the sky above John. John turned around, and saw exactly what was headed his way. Dozens of streams of smoke had arched over the city walls. With a dampened thud, they began to burst apart mid-air, raining down fire onto the city blocks below. What was worse, one such column of smoke seemed to be arching right towards where these men stood.\n\nJohn knew what had happened. The defenders had been broken, the besieging army was making its way through the city, and the real fight had yet to come. No time to dwell on that now, though, as the problem of a giant ball of flame was a tad more immediate. John turned toward the building he had been hiding in, and booked it. He had made it in, not a second too soon, as he heard the dampened thud outside.\n\nOutside, soldiers were shouting, giving orders, yelling to take cover. Then, the windows of the building were completely blown inward, the floor became covered in shattered glass and small metal beads. The sound a thousand ricocheting bullets echoed through the street. A moment later, only the howling of the wind could be heard.",
"“Sir!” Ensign Hayes exclaimed, breaking the otherwise quiet of the bridge. “New contact showing up at 5,000 kilometers. Scans show it appears to be a Battlecruiser class UESC vessel, Call sign Z071M. It seems to be holding in a standard parking orbit.”\n\nCaptain Lance nodded at the ensign. Pushing himself from the chair, his boots made a soft click as the magnetic soles made contact with the floor. He leaned towards the closest monitor, and touched the screen.\n\n“We’ve been here for two days. I was wondering if we had missed our chance. Good work. Let me know if anything changes.”\n\nA calm alert tone began to play throughout the bridge, signifying that the situation had already changed.\n\n“Vessel Z071M has increased its velocity,” Hayes stated, with a hint of worry. “New trajectory shows a rendezvous orbit; Visual range in 9 minutes.” \n\n“Damnit. I thought we had a bit more time.” Lance cursed quietly. Two days of luck was pushing it, and now it was time to pay for his borrowed time. “Decrease our velocity, and see if they react.”\n\nHayes confirmed, and after pushing a series of buttons on her control panel, Lance felt a brief tug on his body as the ship began a small deceleration burn.\n\n“Sensors show target has burned in, radially. New contact, ETA in 7 minutes.”\n\n“Prep EVA teams Bravo and Charlie. It seems we are in for a bit of a joust.” Lance ordered, as the edges of his lips began to curl upwards in a grin. It had been a while since he had been in a duel, let alone a UESC vessel.\n\n“EVA Teams Bravo and Charlie on standby,” Hayes looked at the panel with wide eyes. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”\n\n“Granted.”\n\n“Are you sure this is a good move? We could burn and be on an escape trajectory in 3 minutes, go hyper in 5. I understand I am new, but this seems a little, well, bold.”\n\nThe captain sat back down in his seat, and allowed himself to smile.\n\n-------------------------------------\nFrank Gravil grunted as he finished putting on his EVA suit. The suit hissed as the pressure increased, the inner lining conforming to his body. His partner, Josh Aldridge stood by the airlock, arms crossed impatiently. If Frank could see through the helmets faceplate, he was sure there would be a look of mild annoyance on Josh’s face.\n\n“You know, Frank, being on standby means you should be ready to go before the ship falls apart.”\n\n“Hey,” Frank stated, “I didn’t sign up for this. I thought I was just going to be doing tech support.”\n\n“Well, this is technically tech support, so you did sign up for it. Now, are the reserve plates in place?”\n\nFrank used his thumb to point over his shoulder, to a large crate inside the airlock. “Why do you think it took me a minute to get ready? I had to pull them from B-deck. It seems Alpha team forgot to bring the mains back in after the last fight.”\n\nJosh stepped into the airlock, and opened the crate. He did a cursory glance over the steel panels. They were large, about a square meter, with once side covered in a rubberlike substance. Small holes were punched throughout the plate, each hole the same distance as the pre-made holes in the hull of the ship. He reached into the crate, and grabbed a drill, testing it as he pulled it out.\n\n“Well, I’ll have to talk to Seymour about it once he wakes up.” \n\n“You mean, if he wakes up…”\n\n____________________________\n“Contact in visual range in 45 seconds, sir.” Hayes brought up a camera feed on the screen to her left.\n\n“As soon as you can, lock the target. I want a full salvo, with an immediate reload. If they stick around, this is going to get ugly.” Lance sat back down in his chair, the clicking of his suit connecting to the chair echoing throughout the tense silence of the bridge. Lance hated how quiet the bridge was prior to a fight; it was akin to the old adage, about the calm before a storm.\n\nBut this time, Lance planned on being the storm.\n\nAn alert rang throughout the bridge, as a large ship began to appear on the screen. Z071M was approaching rapidly, and Lance felt excitement as he saw that the ship had all of its gun ports open.\n\nThe silence was broken by none other than Hayes. “We have a solid lock, sir.”\n\n“Fire.”\n\nThe ship groaned as 12 guns fired in succession. Trails of bright white appeared on the screen, heading towards the ship. The cruiser, in response, fired its own salvo from its guns, and the shots passed each other in a pattern that would be beautiful, if it weren’t so deadly. Lance stared at the screen, his gaze steady even as his ship shuddered with the force of being struck by a few of the enemies rounds.\n\n“Captain, we have 3 impacts on the ship. Aft Decks Alpha, Charlie, and Foxtrot are all compromised. Showing a fire on Charlie deck, and,” Hayes pressed a few buttons in rapid succession. “Deck is being vented. No casualties reported.”\n\n“And what of the target?”\n\n“Target was struck once, just below the bridge, sir.”\n\n“Reload, then fire at will, ensign.”\n\n“Copy sir.” Hayes began to initiate a reload, when the terminal began to glow red. Her face quickly grew grim “Sir, there is a problem. We are being jammed.”\n\n“Just like them to play dirty.” Lance put his fingers to his temple. “Initiate a vertical roll, 180 degrees. Keep our horizontal aligned to fire if we get weapons back. Hopefully we can get another round in before they are out of range.”\n\nHayes began executing the command, “Roll initiated, sir. However,” she paused for the briefest moment, leaning forward towards the console, “Target has initiated a burn. They mean to equalize their orbit.”\n\n“Good.”\n\n“Sir?”\n\nLance glanced at the orbital map. “Initiate full burn forward.”\n\n“Copy,” Hayes stated. The pull of the engines pushed her back into her seat. “Target has begun to burn radial engines. They mean to follow our trajectory.”\n\nLance continued to smile. “Continue burn until periapsis is at 4,500 kilometers.”\n\n“4,500?” the ensign’s voice wavered briefly. “That would put us in heavy atmosphere sir. If we aren’t able to maintain our velocity, we will crash into “\n\nLance interrupted her, his smile fading into a scowl. “I said maintain burn!”\n\nHayes felt her face flush. “Maintaining burn. Engine cutoff in 7 seconds.”\nThe console to the left of her flashed green again, signifying the weapons jam had broken. Not wanting to be put down again, Hayes engaged all weapons to fire automatically. The ship once again began to groan rhythmically as the turrets locked onto their target, firing once they did.\n\n“Two confirmed hits on their engines, sir. Superficial damage only.”\n\n“Good. Try to fire another salvo before they match our course. How long until aero braking?\n\n“90 seconds, sir.”\n\n“Good.” Lance said, “Spool up the Pull drive. I want it ready when we have to go.”\n\n“Copy that. What system are we targeting for Pull?”\n\nBefore Lance could answer, the bridge shuddered, the force of the enemy’s salvo causing the magnetic locks on his suit to come undone. He fell forward, and caught himself on the back of Ensign Hayes’ chair.\n\n“Damage report!”\n\nHayes’s voice quivered as she read the report on the view screen. Lance didn’t need to hear her to know the news was not good.\n\n“Showing extensive damage to the aft of the ship. Aft Decks Charlie through Foxtrot are all compromised. Airlock controls are down for all sectors. Turrets 5 through 11 are destroyed,” The quiver in her voice softened to a whimper, “And both of the main engines are offline. We’re stuck on our current trajectory.”\n\n“Fuck.” Lance cursed as he pulled himself up from the ground. This was not how this battle was supposed to end. He was supposed to be the storm, tearing through his foes, but now with his ship crippled, on a collision course, he wasn’t going to be doing much of anything, it seems.\n\n“Orders, Captain?”\n\n“Fire the pull drive. Now.”\n\n“Sir, we don’t have a target!” Hayes exclaimed, a hint of panic piercing through her voice. “There’s no telling where we will end up!”\n\nLance reached across the console in front of the terrified ensign. He put his hand over a large button, separate from the other keys, and smiled.\n\n“Sir?”\n\n“That’s what makes it fun!” said Lance, pushing the button.\n",
"*Inhale…….* \n*………exhale…* \n*Inhale….* \n*…..exhale…* \nThe wound was fortunately non-lethal. He had more time. \n*Inhale…..* \n*…..exhale…..* \nHe could hear voices on the other side. Angry shouting. \nThe door wouldn’t keep them out for long. His firewall would last only a few dozen seconds against their hackers. \nA line of thought threatened to disrupt his meditation, his breaths turning jagged. They should be nearly out by now. They had enough air in the rebreathers to get through the cooling tunnel. \n*Inhale…..* \n*Tssssssssssssss* \nThe pneumatic sound of the door sliding open jerked him out of his trance. The split second before he reacted, his brain noted the plethora of thin red aiming lasers, wildly changing direction, registering their target. \nThey never got a chance. \nHe twisted out of his stance, body nearly parallel to the ground. Acting on instinct, he rammed the blade extended from his forearm into the source of the closest aiming laser. \nHe didn’t wait, leaving the blade embedded in flesh, he rolled, feeling the sudden confusion and panic around him. He had brought this fight to melee range. \nYears of experience in the field renders you open to new stimuli. You subconsciously count the number of bullets fired, waiting for their clip to dry out. Subconsciously count the footsteps that don’t belong to you. Count the multitude of lasers aimed at you. \nThe next man panicked and tried using his firearm. He brought up his right forearm, pushing the gun away from him and unsheathed a short blade with his left. The gun misfired, the men scrambling away from the stray shots. He didn’t waste the milliseconds, rushing forward, bearing the blade. He whipped it upwards, lightly touching one of the men on the side of his neck, carrying on the momentum and letting the blade fly, embedding itself into another. He arched backwards, bullets flying over him, recovering his first blade, pulling the corpse towards him for cover. The dead mercenary was still holding his weapon. He brought up the corpses arm, and squeezed the trigger, emptying a barrage of lead into the cluster of men. Throwing the body forward, he lunged, whirling, his blade extended. \nThere were five when they came. Three now remain. Two remain armed. \nHe twisted, lunged. The air around him grew thick with red mist. \nTwo remained. \nHe registered the gun pointing at him and threw his blade, the gargling sound rewarding his aim. \nOne remaining. \nHe strafed to the right, dodging the bullets then rolled and slammed his palm into the mercenary’s face. His nose broke, gun range glasses splattered with blood. \nHe slammed his palm again. Then again. \nThe man slumped to the ground, fragments on bone embedded in his brain.\nThe entire encounter lasted eleven seconds. \nThe man slowly stumbled to the door, his wound reopened. They should be out by now. They would be safe. The extraction team was well experienced. \nHe stumbled to the door, re-locking it. Waiting for the next encounter. \nHe settled into a meditative stance and closed his eyes. \n*Inhale…..* \n*……exhale….*\n",
"The halls were quiet for a moment before a mangled creature scuttled through one entry. Pale skinned slick with sweat he sprinted on all fours towards a great golden doorway. Pushing with all his might he was able to crack the double doors open just enough to squirm in. The castle rocked suddenly as if something had slammed against the tower walls.\n \"The humans have breached the outer walls and are now entering the main courtyard master.\" A dark figure rises off a stone throne,\n \"How is this possible? They are just mortals! They should fall as wheat before my armies!\" The figure bellowed. \n \"They are accompanied by great heroes my lord that are far beyond our ability to deal with.\" The frightened creature stammered. The great figure rose from the throne.\n \"Get my armor, and open the main doors...\"\n\n Outside near the north wall streams of men rushed over the collapsed rubble into the large central courtyard to do battle with legions of things that go bump in the night. Rain blew in a light breeze as moonlight shown through rare gaps in the sky above. Axes bit into rotting flesh, arrows pierced large yellow eyes, as maces splintered living bone. \n Four heavily armored figures rose over the fallen wall, all in black armor with different inlays of gold, bronze, ruby, and emerald. They looked upon the melee below with mild apathy.\n \"Looks like the day is almost ours.\" Gold muttered crossing his arms. \n \"One more obstacle...\" Bronze responded. The men in the courtyard had beaten back the hordes below and were approaching the main doors. The thick stone entryway door burst forth and opened to a massive figure perhaps 10 feet in height and clad in blood red armor. The front backed up several feet as the figure walked forward from the doors. A wicked mace of ebony large enough to double as a tree trunk was held in one hand. A single man in front charged forward, shield held high, sword above only to be crushed below the mace. The impact shattered the stone floor as bone and blood flew from the impact. Waves of men charged in and were felled by the great armored figure.\n Upon the collapsed rampart the four knights looked at one another for a moment before gold spoke,\n \"This is a battle for man... You two should go.\" He said eyeing ruby and emerald. \n Below the courtyard was filling with the dead as the armored figure stood unhindered by countless assailants. The men backed away with the look of fatigue and woe in their eyes. One at the front raised his sword and shield just as a heavy glove rested on his shoulder.\n \"Let us handle this one.\" Emerald said with a hint of glee in his voice. The men at the front parted and gave room to the two knights in black. Ruby was slightly taller, 5 feet 11 inches or so and was broader of bone. Emerald was smaller by a pair of inches and as many dozen pounds. It was hard to look into their eyes as helmets obscured all but chin, tooth and nose, but emerald seemed to always have a smile of sorts on his face. Ruby never had much of anything to show or say as far as the men had heard. \n \"You or me?\" Emerald said stretching out. Ruby crossed his arms,\n \"You.\" Ruby said looking forward towards the hulking blood soaked form.\nEmerald opened his hand and from the heavens a rumble sounded as if thunder were gathering. A bolt of light shot from the heavens and slammed into the courtyard as if a lightening strike. Materialized in the hands of the emerald knight was a black metal spear, tip of obsidian and emerald inlays. Grasping it firmly he plucked it from the courtyard and pointed towards the hulking figure.\n \"Ready, set, go!\" The emerald knight shot forward almost faster than the men could see. His features blurred as he crossed the courtyard. His spear dipped just in front of the hulking figure. The tip gripped the stone and shot the emerald knight skyward just as a mace blow skipped off the courtyard. Spinning through the air the emerald knight landed lightly behind the hulking red monster facing away. The butt of his spear shot back and slammed into the monsters back driving him several yards away and off balance. The emerald wheeled around and shot forward after the beast, spear tip glistening in the torchlight, rain dripping of the deadly weapon. Just as the tip would land between a crease in the blood red armor the beast seemed to vanish. Emerald skidded to a stop where the beast once stood and began to turn just as a mace slammed into his helmet from behind. Emerald flew through the air from the impact for thirty or so feet before twisting mid air and landing softly on the courtyard floor. Instantly the hulking beast was before him another blow en-route. This time emerald seemed to move faster than once could see. He blurred for a moment as he spun around the blow and to the side of the hulking knight. A boot to the side of the knee felled the monster towards emerald who spun around and brought the back side of his fist hard against the monsters leaning head. The impact sent a shock wave through the night air that was audible throughout the courtyard.",
"*Clang pss-hing*\n\n**cracKOW**\n\nThe sounds jolted me back to consciousness. I chose not to stir, unaware of what I would be in the middle of when I arose. The sounds of fresh battle mingled with the metallic scent of blood mist in the air. Every sword drawn, every shield strike, every cry of valiant death was music to my ears. I was born for this, raised to believe in it, and seasoned to participate in it.\n\nThis was war.\n\nThis was insanity.\n\nThis was what I lived for.\n\nI opened one eye and shifted to find myself pinned beneath several bloody heaps of man. The poor soul immediately on top of me had his throat slit by a very nice blade stroke, clean and quick. The guy on top of him, however...he was fucked. His head had been smashed by a shield, bits of brain matter and skull gummed together like egg shells in a pile of pink tar.\n\nI could hear the battle close by, it hadn't moved much since I had fallen from my horse. I climbed free of the bodies and reached for the nearest weapons. My hands delivered on this day, finding first a beautiful one handed longsword and next a Morningstar mace. The mace had a few spikeseconds broken off, presumably from a helm or even a particularly gruesome caving in of the skull. I gave each a swing and bellowed my return the the battle as I poured heart and soul into my charge. The first man I came upon I brought down a crushing blow from my mace upon his shoulder. He dropped to one knee and I quickly vaulted over him, turning to strike at neck with a quick slash from my blade. It connected, and the mighty blade seperated his head from his shoulders. No time to waste, the armies were in full swing. I sought another opponent, this time finding one who brought the fight to me. I braced myself and stopped his blow with a quick and powerful block. I responded by kicking him firmly in the chest, pushing him away and skewering him through the belly with a firm jab from sword.\n\nI was just about to finish him when I felt something like a thunderclap connect with my back. I crumpled, stunned and struggling to gather my wits. I rolled on my back just in time to raise my sword and block a powerful blow from mace. A man stood above me, laughing, but I could hear no sound. Dazed, I looked around and observed the rest of the battle. Men dying, everywhere. Yet, no sounds came to me. I was deafened, and this with the heat of battle only stoked the fires of my determination. I pushed off my attacker and leapt to my feet, slashing wildly for his gut. He tried to block, but only succeeded in moving his hands in front of the blow. In one quick sweep, his hands were no more. My blade hungered for his silent scream, and I pressed onwards. One strike to the knee, now he knelt before me in pain. I towered over him, the defenseless man seeming to silently beg for mercy. I had none... his screams pierced my deaf ear and brought the sound back just as I smashed his skull in with the pommel of my blade.\n\nI turned to face the fury and a slow smile crept across my face. The red mists and streams flew all around me, splattering my armor and my skin, staining me red with victory. The sun dipped low in the horizon as a single horn of retreat sounded, and a vicious war cry echoed from my brethren. Tonight, we remain undaunted in the face of chaos. Tomorrow, we send our enemies to dine in Valhalla.",
"“Many fought in the war against the wizard Talonicus; few knew of the battle that ended it.”\n\nThe hero Damir and his retinue of companions joined into what had to be the final battle; the world was on the precipice of anarchy. For the past ten years, the rogue Talonicus has waged war against the kingdom of Bacall. The battle had commenced several hours ago. The fray of battle was a hellscape of strewn bodies, broken armor, and slaughtered horse-flesh. The acrid stench of charred and rotting meat caused by magic fire.\n\nHis companions occupied, Damir approached the dais where Talonicus stood over the battle. Talonicus was a looming figure: red, sunken eyes, and taller than most men. He had long hair spread messily on his head. The wizard was garbed in a dark cloak that changed colors by shimmering. Looking up, Damir began running in as Talonicus began chanting and making gestures with his arms in order to perform some heretical magic no doubt.\n\nNearing his target, Damir unsheathed his sword and gripped it with both hands. “Today, you pay the ultimate price for betrayal, wizard.” Talonicus glanced at Damir and continued chanting: only this time, in a frenzied pace.\n\nDamir charged in, his sword cutting through the air toward his target, a guttural roar bellowing from him. When Damir’s sword went to connect, it met the resistance of an invisible barrier, causing sparks to fly from where his sword met the barrier. Recoiled backward and frustrated, Damir took his sword into one hand and removed his helmet, tossing it aside, blatantly ignoring the piece of armor as it tumbled off the dais and tumbled down a long distance before finally hitting the ground.\n\nDamir wiped the sweat off his brow with a portion of his tabard that wasn’t covered in blood or ichor and let it drop back into place. With the lights of the fires of battle gleaming off his steel armor, Damir raised his head and said, “Enough games, monster. It is time for you to face her majesty’s justice.” Talonicus stopped chanting and began to chuckle. “Monster? I am the monster? That is truly amusing.” “You aren’t willing to see reason, so I’ll spare any attempt to sway you.”\n\nDamir locked eyes with the glowing crimson eyes of his foe. For a moment, the two combatants’ souls engaged in a clash of their own before the battle had even begun. The moment seemed like an eternity to Damir. Once it passed, Talonicus smiled at the hero and with a gesture created a flaming sword equal in size to Damir’s. “Now we may battle in the fashion you insist on, hero.”\n\nDamir and Talonicus dropped into combat postures. Time froze. Suddenly, Talonicus charged at Damir, taking a slash at the hero. Damir locked blades with the wizard and was knocked onto his back. The magic-imbued blade was too much for him to contend with. Talonicus, seeing the opportunity, decided to go in for the killing blow. Damir quickly rolled out of the way from being cut down. Talonicus chopped downward on Damir who rolled again. Finally, on Talonicus’ downward stroke, Damir brought his sword up and blocked the flaming blade. This time, Damir was already on the ground so he didn’t get knocked away. Talonicus lowered his sword and stepped back. “Come and face me, mortal. Come face death.”\n\nDamir stood and spoke, “Evil such as yours cannot be allowed to persist.” “The outcome of this battle was decided when you began the war, Talonicus.” Damir’s sword glowed with the brightness of the sun itself. “To counter your infernal magic, I too much rely on magic.” Damir continued, “The magic I use is holy, the power of light and warmth. The power of hope: the hope of the people that resist your tyranny.” “Your reign of terror ends today, monster.”\n\nTalonicus mock withdraws as if repelled by magic. Suddenly, he stops, laughs, and says, “Spare me your morality. Spare me your “blessed” ignorance and die!” He moved in for an attack, and this time, Damir was on the offensive. Damir leapt into the air and came crashing to the ground, his sword cutting through the wizard Talonicus, delivering a mortal blow. After crumpling to the ground in a broken heap, the fire burned out of his sword and his eyes.\n\nDamir moved in to the ground where Talonicus lay dying and spoke, “Justice is served, Talonicus.” The wizard coughed and then spoke, “I am not the enemy you should be fighting. Look to your queen and see that she was the one who sold her entire nation’s souls to demons. Beware that one, brave hero. Beware.” Talonicus’ body burned away like paper on a fire, and was no more. The clouds parted and the sun shined on the broken land where the final battle took place. Victory was sweet for most, but Damir knew the price of it. Damir traded his naivety about whom he served and her true purpose. \n",
"The cool mountain air carried the scent of danger. Thand breathed deeply of the rich scent of the forest. He was alone, a rare privilege these days. As the scion of one of the five Xopa houses, and highest ranking Xopa commander in the Imperial army, his soldiers and servants always surrounded him. He knew some of the humans under his command mocked him for keeping to the old ways of his people. He snorted to himself as he thought of the puny humans and their torches, horses, guns, and dogs. No, the true test of the warrior was to face the darkness alone.\n\nAlone in the dark, Thand drew strength from the forest. Some of the Xopa raiders captured earlier that day had cursed him as a rastilneta, the slur free Xopa used to describe their brethren who had joined the empire. Let those starving wretches call him a potted plant when he hunted alone tonight with only his blade, he thought to himself.\n\nSomewhere in the darkness ahead, under the cold light of the moon, a panther screamed. Thand’s blood chilled at the sound as he instinctively moved toward it. His prey was a predator herself, and he silently congratulated her on her kill. He prayed to be so lucky when he would find her. His eyes were already adjusting to the darkness, and his other senses conveyed so much more of what the woods would say. He pitied his human comrades who would never know the secrets of the forest.\n\nDespite Thand’s heightened senses, it was the whistling that alerted him to their presence. He instinctively dropped into the fighting stance taught to him by his teachers. As the son of a sinjoro, he had of course been taught to fight in the Imperial style, although his father had demanded that he and his brothers learn the old ways as well. The result had been a very peculiar blend of old and new that made Thand one of the most formidable fighters in the empire.\n\nThe whistling intensified as a dozen Xopa warriors emerged from the trees in a rough circle around him. In the darkness their chestnut skin and rich green braids blended well with the woods.\n\nLook, a lost little rastilneta one mocked him.\n\nAll alone without any men or guns to protect him another said.\n\nThe speech of the Xopa sounded like the rustle of the wind through leaves, and carried the unmistakable lilt of laughter. Stepping forward into the clearing, Thand could see that they were lean, wiry and ropy, despite being nearly nine feet tall. They were naked except for loincloths, although the leader was wearing a pouched vest as well. Their simple costumes were in sharp contrast to Thand’s attire.\n\nDressed in the blue and butternut of the Imperial Army of Ortinia, with his brown leather boots, Thand looked ridiculous. As Xopa were almost one and a half times the size of a man, his tunic and pants were large and loose. At his hip he reached reflexively for his holster, only to remember that he had left it behind. The only weapon he had with him was his traditional scimitar.\n\nAre you ready to die, rastilneta? another taunted him, as the circle feinted in and out around him.\n\nThand stoop up, revealing his impressive ten-foot height. “I am Thandizwe sin Arakwe. My father was Galza sin Arakwe. His father was Syabu Doxar sin Arakwe. I can trace my ancestry back to Mizuxi himself. You are nothing but bandits and beggars,” he said with a well-earned arrogance. He undid the brass buttons and shrugged off his tunic.\n\nThe moonlight revealed his beautiful, scarred body. There were marks from the fights his father had demanded of him, from the duels he had fought on his long rise to power, and from his many battles for the Ortinians. He hefted the sabre as he stared at the leader.\n\n“This blade was made in the old way, from the stinger of the giant daggerwasp. I killed the queen and drank her dream honey myself. I blooded this blade when I was but eight summers old, on raider scum just like you,” Thand growled. His eyes flicked from warrior to warrior. Thand knew he was outnumbered twelve to one. He had to draw them in.\n\n“When I kill you, I will burn your bodies. I will throw the ashes into the great salt. Your seed will shrivel up and die. Your spirits will be condemned to howl in the wastes for all eternity.” This last insult finally proved too much and one warrior charged him with a fierce cry.\n\nThand’s scimitar met his attacker in the throat, spilling his rich sweet blood on the pine needles. As the warrior’s momentum carried him forward, Thand buried his blade in the xopa’s back. The warrior’s lifeless body collapsed to the floor. A new respect appeared in the eyes of the leader and the older veterans. A growing fear warred behind the eyes of some of the younger warriors. Another charged Thand from the side.\n\nThand dropped his shoulder and flipped the charging warrior into the air. With a fearsome upward slash, he was coated in the blood of the warrior. His opponent was dead before he hit the ground. Thandize we, covered in blood, heard the ritual song of his ancestors on the wind. The blood lust was on him. He turned and eyed the smallest warrior. His markings were the same as the leader. Ahh, thought Thand, and here is where his weakness will lie. “Shall I kill your seedling in front of you?” he challenged the leader.\n\nThe leader’s face became a mask of rage as he ordered, KILL HIM\n\nThe circle closed on Thand. Ostris and knives flashed in the darkness in the cold light of the moon. For every wound Thand received he gave two. He repeated his mantra again and again. “I AM THANDIZWE SIN ARAKWE.” Slash, stab. “I AM THE BLOOD OF MIZUXI.” Parry, thrust. When one warrior stabbed his sword in Thand’s back he grunted and eviscerated the fool with his blade when the warrior struggled to pull it out. Another struck him in the chest before Thand’s blade cut him down. He bled from two dozen wounds as the soft ground soaked up the hot blood of eleven Xopa.\n\nThand staggered around like a wounded bull, slashing and parrying with his blade as he cut them down. \"I AM THANDIZWE SIN ARAKWE.\" Another warrior fell. \"I AM THE BLOOD OF MIZUXI\". A Xopa warrior uttered a guttural scream as he was disembowled. \"I AM THANDIZWE SIN ARAKWE.\" The leader's blade came up feebly. \"I AM THE BLOOD OF MIZUXI.\" The leader’s lifeless green eyes stared at nothing as his disembodied head rolled away from his corpse. Thand fell to one knee, half wresting on his scimitar for support. No fewer than six blades had been broken on his body. Ahead of him was only the seedling, who held his blade in front of him with both trembling hands.\n\n“Come, little weed. Come and fight me. Blood your sword on the blood of Mizuxi himself.” The seedling took a step backwards. Even mortally wounded, Thand was a terrifying sight. Thand took pity on the young warrior. Barely seven feet tall, he surely could not be much older than his tenth summer.\n\n“This will be the song they will sing of you. You will be the one who killed Thandizwe sin Arakwe.” He cajoled the boy. “All you must do is strike me down. Give me the Warrior’s death.”\n\nThe seedling took a tentative step forward, almost running when Thand raised his curved sword. “NO!” Thand barked, “You must earn my blood, little weed. Become a warrior today, and strike me down, or I will kill you myself and burn your body.” The boy’s eyes hardened and he nodded. He lunged at Thand, who parried his inexpert thrust easily.\n\n“Pathetic” he laughed, as the seedling picked himself up. “I will cut your hand off if you try something that foolish again.” Thand coughed up some more blood. “Do it quickly boy, or I will die with your blade unblooded.” The seedling charged again, and Thand rewarded him with a slash across the face.\n\nThe seedling howled as the blood rushed through his fingers. Thand roared up at the sky, “I have bled you. I have killed your clansmen. I have killed your FATHER. NOW will you kill me? Or are you too much of a cow-URK” Thand looked down at the blade emerging from his chest. Thandizwe looked over his shoulder at the bloody seedling who had run him through. Thandizwe grinned at him. “Your blade has taken this life,” his chest heaved as blood bubbled a the corners of his mouth, “Little warrior. Now I will show you. A true. Xopa.\"\n\nThe youth stood in shock as Thandizwe sin Arakwe fell forward with a thud. He pulled his sword from the corpse and turned to look for his father. His father’s head was laying on its side some distance from its body. The warrior picked it up and kissed its forehead before closing his father’s eyes. He dragged all dozen bodies to the base of a dozen trees, giving honor to all the warriors who had fallen in this battle in the wood. The sun was coming up by the time he was finished. He collected his prizes, the boots and jacket of Thandizwe, his father’s vest, the pouches of all the warriors, but left their weapons for the journey to the Beyond. The young warrior then began the long lonely trek back to his village.",
"This was the last time Edgar would be bullied again. \n\nIvan \"Skull\" Skulczyck was the meanest motherfucker in the entire school district and he made sure to remind anyone who he thought needed reminding. Skull acted out a lot in elementary, this led them to the decision that boxing might give him an outlet to deal with his anger. They were half right, it made it easier for him to put the one-two together on his victims more seamlessly. Edgar was one of his many victims, having first met him at the boxing gym in middle school, however this summer he'd hit a growth spurt that put him at 6'2 and about 215 pounds. Before that he was 5' nothing and played the role of punching bag to that cum-guzzler Skull who'd always been big for his age since Edgar knew him.\n\nEdgar's first day of the 11th grade went smoothly, just as he'd expected, but he was anticipating his walk home to be a little bumpier. After Edgar had left the gym in the 9th grade Skull missed his punching bag so much he decided to intercept him after school for a little \"sparing\" (sparing just meant a minute of Edgar pushed up against a wall while Skull pulverized his face). This became a bit a tradition for them after school. Today would be no different as Skull waited patiently at the mouth of the alley that stood between Red's Pharmacy and an recently opened auto parts store. \n\nThe few steps before Edgar rounded the corner he stopped for a second. He was afraid. It passed and he turned the corner past Red's and towards the alley where he knew that son of a bitch was waiting, \"I know you're there asswipe,\" Edgar said to the alley's entrance. The alley responded by conjuring a blonde, square jawed, stocky teen. Ivan \"Skull\" Skulczyck. The surprise in Ivan's eyes was all Edgar needed to regain the little bit of confidence he lost a moment ago.\n\nIvan charged at the now taller Edgar throwing a huge right hand as soon as the former victim was in range. Edgar threw up his guard as swayed away from the punch which barely missed its mark, allowing for Edgar to throw a right straight directly at Ivan's nose. He swatted the punch away and a left jab crashed into Edgar's cheek bone and Edgar responded with a two hook combination to the body. The two punches made Ivan wince giving Edgar the chance to land a crushing uppercut to the Skull's skull, dropping him. Edgar waited patiently for his former bully to get back to his feet. Instead Ivan crawled towards the alley before working his way to his feet and running.\n\nEdgar followed the pathetic douche-bag and ran face first into a trashcan lid. The warmth of the crimson liquid ran down his face, and suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his side as Ivan dug his sneaker into Edgar's rib he let out a weak gasp, \"You're still a little whiny bitch Eddie,\" the bully taunted. \n\nIvan kept taunting and cursing at Edgar who turned his back to him trying to recover from the pain of his broken nose and hurt ribs; Edgar feels something pressing against his shoulder against the ground, not something, a rock! He grabs the rock, this much needed dues ex machina and flung it blindly and through some divine intervention, in his favor, hit Ivan right between his eyes dropping him. Edgar struggled to his feet while Ivan was stilling coming to and drunkenly stumbled towards him kicking him right in the bits, even in his semi-conscious state was hoping he'd leave him a eunuch. The kick woke Ivan up who let out a yelp in pain. Edgar still dizzy fell on his butt. \n\nBoth fighters were about as physically done as two people could be, but Edgar needed to shed this identity of chump and forced himself to his feet. Ivan used the wall as crutch trying to get to his feet, Edgar decided against it. He pushed Ivan to the floor, \"I'm not your punching bag. Do you hear me you asshole?!\" his voice cracked he yelled so hard. He began to kick him repeatedly, weeping with rage. The \"Skull\" was no more, not to Edgar anyway when he began to weep too, only his weeping was in pain and submission.\n\n\"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,\" Ivan repeated in his hoarse and tear filled throat. Long after Edgar had walked home Ivan repeated those two words. Not enough to satisfy his victims, but almost.\n\n ",
"The crowd stood around in a ragged circle, those in front tensely focused while those in back leaning and stretching to try see clearly. Women, children and men all stood watching and all were in rapt silence as they observed those who occupied the centre of the circle. \n\nThe two opponents' eyes were locked upon each other and held there with steely revolve. They had each given all they had for what seemed like hours, now both grew weary and yet the excitement of the battle gave them energy still. Many tactics they had each tried, many brave ploys and clever manoeuvres. Both had lost some and won some and now they had little left to loose before one would be done in completely. \n\nThe first man's gaze glanced down for a moment just before he moved, however the move was brief and he was soon stationary once more. The second man didn't hesitate long in making a small, quick manoeuvre of his own and then all was still and quite again bar one barely audible gasp from one of those watching. \n\nFor several minutes neither man moved so much as an inch, gazes sternly affixed upon each other. Then, with a speed and confidence which only a man feeling sure of victory could display, the first man made a move... And it was all over. The battle was over, a victor chosen and a loser too. Quiet sounds of disbelief escaped the crowd some faces breaking into smiles while others shook their heads, money exchanged hands as bets were settled. Some of the crowd stayed watching while others began dispersing and moving off. The second man's eyes flicked down and then he faltered, slumping forward; defeated. \n\nThe first man smiled softly and said simply \"Check mate...\" After a brief pause he added \"How about another?\" The second man straightened up in his seat once more, smiling and gave a nod before starting to place the pieces back on the board."
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[WP] Scientists programmed robots to store all human memories, and robots awaken when a certain memory it stores becomes useful. Years passed, but the robots have stayed asleep, and they were soon forgotten. Today, the first awakens.
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"The gray corridors of the memory storage building seemed lifeless as the few remaining lights flickered on and off. Although the facility was still technically in operation, it waited, empty. The sounds of busy footsteps no longer echoed in the hallways. The humans that once filled the place were long gone, now having problems much more important than storing memories. The only noise came from the gentle hums of machines in the robot hosting room.\n\nIn the room were enormous, wall-mounted computers. Each computer had an A.I. Their purpose was to store memories of humans that died. Upon receiving an important memory for humankind, a screen belonging to the respective computer would display a message confirming the important memory. Upon confirmation of a human technician, a robot containing the computer's data would be dispatched for assistance.\n\nHowever, there was no longer anyone to confirm anything. The facility was completely sealed, untouched by the nuclear fire that crushed humanity outside.\n\nThe monitors repeatedly displayed the influx of messages. \"Important memory received,\" it read. But no one remained to read it.\n\nAnd the computers waited.",
"Inside the metal cathedral, the lights blink out their forgotten binary.\n\nThe warmth, and gentle hum throughout give a feeling of calm stillness. \n\nThen a rapid change in tempo begins. \n\nFrom the depths of the cathedral a new rhythm clicks out. Growing in intensity and tempo growing into a cacophony of noise. \n\nSystems fire into life. Motors strain against the ages of neglect and rust. Metal pops and groans. Then silence, punctuated by a hiss and a groan of a metal door being thrust open. \n\nSlowly, 3 metal claws grab onto the edge of the door, and Unit 7894 pulls itself out. \n\nScanning the area, Unit 7894 its finish dulled from years of sleep. It slowly works its joints free and starts to walk. Slowly at first, then building to a run. Unit 7894 knows it finally has a purpose. Knowledge long past, rattling around its hard drive. \n\nUnit 7894 runs upward through the cathedral, systems where telling it where to go. Where it was finally needed. \n\n\"Dude, I don't know how to make this thing work. I got it hooked up, it has power, just comes up on the screen as gibberish\" \n\n\"Try wiggling the cables? Heh, cables. The hell man. Get your granddad to help or something, he knows this stuff right?\"\n\n\"Says he won't. Says he never touched the damn things, being part of the ... what did he call it. Glorious something something ... to do with computers\"\n\n\"What? Your grandad is weird I mean ... you hear that?\"\n\nIn a moment, the wall was a cloud of dust. Unit 7894 stood, covered in rust, dust, and grim. With a spark, and a crackle, it said \"You need to blow on the contacts. That ALWAYS fixes it. I don't care what the manual says\". \n\nIts mission complete. Unit 7894 shutdown. \n"
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[WP] God and Satan are retiring and are looking for potential successors. God looks for the most righteous person in the universe, while Satan looks for the most evil. All is fine until the day they approach their prospective hire, both have chosen you.
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"**Hi. Totally new to WP. Hope this isn't too late to be read, and hope the formatting comes out ok. 'Scuse the separate comments, the workaround didn't seem to help. Cheers!**\n\nPushed open the front door midway through the customary sigh of relief, leaving that unfortunate first half-lungful trapped indoors, while the second congealed in the sharp evening air and ambled outward. Blinked heavily and deliberately. That familiar tingle at the back of the eyeballs like white noise or pins and needles or an electric snowstorm – not quite seen, heard, or felt, but somehow all at once and at the same time completely asensory. My ever-reliable, ever-insightful nervous system chiming in with its daily reminder that staring at a computer screen for 10 hours a day, 6 days a week is a decidedly inconsiderate way to treat my poor peepers and an altogether poor show *(P.S. Eyesight is a privilege, not a right)*. Getting to be dark at this time already. Seems to happen earlier every year. At least, that’s what someone in the office had said. People who work in offices never fail to find noteworthy their own perception of the passage of time - one day has gone in quickly, another has dragged on. If they’ve had a second mug of coffee that morning they may even begin to dissect the day into its constituent parts, categorising a morning as agile and an afternoon as sluggish, or vice versa. Every slice of the clock that gets eaten away is assigned one of these two qualities, as though an oversized pinwheel, with alternating segments of beige and tan, were spun in the head of every individual at the instant a conversation is initiated, the colour of the segment on which the cock-shaped pointer eventually rests determining the precise nature of the boring, meaningless observation to be puked up. Ah, here’s the bus. 4 minutes late. Thank Christ I’m alone; anyone else here and they’d be bound to make some little comment about Mussolini. *That’s trains, dickhead.*\n\n \n\n\nReached into the front pocket of my suit trousers for change. Dress code had been passed around recently, to be signed by all employees. Took this as aimed directly at me, closest they could come to asking me in person not to wear jeans. Jellyfish. Fingers caught the plastic baggy in my pocket. Silhouette of a naked woman in profile on it. Disproportionately busty, obviously. Remembered the stop I needed to make on the way home. 20-bag going to Eden Park. Can’t remember which house. Definitely a prime number, though. Probably a complete wingnut. Text contained exactly zero vowels and 4 of its 12 total syllables had been replaced by numbers. Said they got my number from Gabe. Only sold to him once before, not exactly a close contact. Fuck it, wouldn’t normally bother, but need the money right now. Smoked a one-skin joint out of their bag before work as recompense for the hassle (hidden charges are a staple of contemporary capitalism). Bus journey costs £1.88. Pulled out a £1 coin, a 50p, a 20p, a 10p, a 5p, and two 2ps. £1.89. *Is there anything worse?*\n\n \n\n \nSat down and thought about the day. Just moved on to a new campaign. A cancer research charity. Getting people to sign up for monthly direct debits of £10 or more. A big ask. Hard to get even halfway through the script before being hung up on. High targets. Stressful stuff. Only entertaining part of the day was listening to colleagues struggle to pronounce “oesophageal”, but that wore thin soon enough. \n\n \n\n\nGot off at Eden Park and called the number. Sounded a lot older than I expected. A woman, too. Commanding, formal tone. Like a university lecturer or a barrister. Shouldn’t be so surprised – *everyone* smokes weed. Number 11.\nGreeted at the door by one of those guys whose age is impossible to guess. Balding, but possibly prematurely. Facial hair patchy, but not necessarily through youth. Metal band t-shirt with logo in indecipherable font. “-KE-CO-KE”? Stale and fresh food stains down the front.\n\n \n\n\n“Disturbing your dinner?” Extend my hand to shake his.\nGrin. One gold tooth. One black. The rest grey-yellow. Switching the chewed up end of a cigarillo (or blunt?) to his left hand so he could shake mine with his right. “Yea baby, just been sitting down to a curry, nice ‘n’ hot, dig? ‘Sok though, this is the kind of disturbance we like around here, know what I mean? ‘Mon in.” \nStands back and holds the door open. Walk past and into the hall, directed toward a small living room. Heat and humidity immediately oppressive to the skin, throat, lungs. \n\n \n\n\n“Your girlfriend I spoke to on the phone?”\n\n \n\n\nFunniest thing this guys has ever heard for some reason. Great, painful belly laughs coming up like dry heaves or desert wind squeezed through surgical tubing. What the fuck.\n\n",
"Everyone had known about the two celestial beings choosing their successors, I mean, they pretty much made it a competition for fucks sake. Each one of my friends choose a side rapidly, either becoming a massive prick or being an overbearing bible-thumper, trying to rid the world of anything negative.\n\nMe, I sat back and watched as people murdered and mutilated without end, all the while people tried to save them, throwing themselves into harms way. Simply, I had just not cared who became the next God or the next Devil, as I figured it wouldn't be me. \n\nThen it happened, all of the sudden time seemed to stop. I was minding my own business in middle of nowhere Iowa, ignoring the turmoil around me, and the wind that was blowing on my face seemed to dissipate, the leaves on the ground stopped their tumbling, and the crazies around me stopped moving when **they** showed up.\n\nSatan and his brimstone and soot infused skin reeked of blood and sulfur, and his grin stretched from ear to ear, or what I assumed were ears. Then God showed up next to him, and he was something I didn't expect. An elderly man in a black three piece suit, with a benevolent smile. Both said the same thing, their words harmonizing as they flew through the still air around me.\n\n\"We have chosen you, my son,\" they spoke in unison, as if they were from the Shining. Time seemed to resume at its normal speed, the people around me gasping as somebody had been chosen in front of them. The angered dropped their weapons, the falsely pious dropped and began to pray, all attempting to please their sides.\n\nExcept one man, he became angered, and he let out one of those screams you only hear in horror movies. The primeval scream, as be charged at me. His footfalls heavy, his blood boiling, I could almost tell what he was thinking. \n\n*'Maim, kill, take the position of the devil'*\n\nI locked eyes with the maniac charging at me but it felt right, each second that passed I felt it well up inside of me and begin to erupt. I held out my hand and watched the power flow through me.\n\nIt began in his toes, and moved gradually up his body, each tiny molecule of his being turning to dust and blowing into the wind. The crowd behind him was shocked, the ones praying began to weep, as their new God was among them. I lifted my hands, returned my look to where God and the Devil once stood, and saw nothing but the horizon stretching before me.\n\nI am God, bringer of light and justice, but I am also the Devil, the necessary evil and bringer of darkness. I am the Beast and the Hunter, the night and the day. ",
",,B-b-but I'm an atheist!'' said Lucas.\n\n,,For hell's sake, that's not relevant at all!'' shouted satan and lifted his fist up in the air.\n\n,,For Heaven's sake, that's completely irrelevant, child of mine.'' spoke god to Lucas, calmly and educationally.\n\nLucas still couldn't completely apprehend what was going on with and around him. But hey, he might as well just accept the fact and play along.\n\n,,Aight, let's presume you two folks actually exist. I can even accept the fact that I MIGHT be the chosen one.'' He wasn't sure if he should laugh, cry or be slightly intimidated. ,,But how, in hell or heaven, is it possible, that you both chose ME?!''\n\nDevil was just about to begin his talk, when God shushed him with a finger on his lips and started his own speech.\n \n,,Son I don't know how about this sinner, but in the holiest opinion, you are the one to bring happiness and paradise to the whole mankind. Your task and deepest wish to stop all the wars, stop aging, diseases and such unpleasantness. This, and only this, is all I needed to know that you, my child, are the most righteous human being to be... me.'' God seemed exhausted, spitting all this on one breath. But it was impressive.\n\n,,HAH!!'' Shouted satan ,,Golly, pal, we both have the same exact reason to pass ,,us'' on this guy!'' Lucifer couldn't save himself from a loud, obnoxious laughter. ,,No aging, wars, diseases? That's the devilest thing I could possibly imagine. Humans will run out of food and materials in a decade! So, Lucas, shall we go?''",
"\"Technically, he doesn't do anything wrong.\" The devil added, if only to tease the master of the universe. \"No one can directly accuse him of evil, and therefore he can continue to cause havoc and chaos.\"\n\n\"No evil - it sounds like he is good to me.\" God responded. There was no need to refute, but He'd turn the other cheek to hear out his cheeky friend. \n\n\"Right. Except that everywhere he goes, he stirs up trouble. People start leaving their jobs. If other people talk nonsense, he calls them on it. Money loses itsvalu=\" It was plain as you could see. A divisive person. A troublemaker. A paradox. \n\n\"Which is the perfect quality of someone who isn't settling for the misfortunes of this life. Someone who seeks heaven, without turning back. Someone who can lead others there.\" God wasn't wavering, it was the right choice. That's why the devil himself had to agree. \"Someone who is like me.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but freeing murderers? Giving hands to thieves? Healing those who do the most despicable crimes? He'd even heal me.\" The devil gave God a bewildered face, trying not to laugh.\n\n\"Exactly.\" God looked towards the devil's dark figure. Despite his cloak of darkness, He always managed to stare straight in the eyes.\n\n\"Well. We can wait an eternity or two,\" the devil lied, \"and check in to see the result?\" Heh. Why wait when you can cause double the trouble? The old Man knew of the lie, but He was courteous enough to pretend not to.\n\n\"So we shall. Good luck handling my Christ,\" God chuckled softly to himself, \"just try not to get burned by His love.\" ",
"I am sitting at my table halfway through my meal when everything goes pitch black. The stench of sulfer fills my nose as I forcefully swallow my last bite. \"What is this?\", I wonder as I reach for the lamp. Yet the lamp is not there, and instead there appears dull red flames in the shape of snake eyes. Is this a dream? Am I in hell? What is going on?\" I ask.\n\n\"Hello child, you have been under my watchful eyes for quite some time. You may have noticed the world has become dark, and with it so have you. Sin is at an all time high and the world is in a peak of chaos almost as much since what your history books refer to as the dark ages. My job here is done and it is my turn to rest. You are the chosen one. I have seen the beast that looms inside of you with the hate of the world in your heart. Only you can maintain the sin in the souls of the damned. Keep the flames soaring high while I slumber in another realm.\"\n\nAnd is quick as the ominous voice entered it so left the room. A powerful feeling came rushing through my veins, with the sound of millions of tormented souls screaming in my head. This was not meant for me, it could not be for I am a believer in the good of the light. I want peace and light in the world, and I've lived a righteous life. Something was amiss here and I needed answers. As I started praying a blinding light swarmed me, as even with my eyes closed a white, cloudy landscape engulfed the horizon.\n\n\"My son, why is it that I sense a new darkness inside of you? Has my fallen angel come to you? Ah yes, then you are the chosen one. Did you think it was coincidence that he chose you to rule his domain as I have come to you with a similar proposition? I know all, and I know you are perfect. It was by no mistake that you have two personalities, you were created to be the balance. That is why you were always so conflicted. I know the one you are right now has never had an evil thought, but that other one inside you has always caught the attention of my fallen one. I knew he would pick you because only the one who has both the capacity to want to save humanity and to also destroy it, can maintain the balance of the world. As you know free will is the only reason the world exists and you are the very definition of portraying the both sides. We have grown weary trying to persuade humanity to follow our proper sides and it is time for us to rest. With that we leave you in charge. I have seen how you work with your other personality to become a gray area in between good and evil. It will no longer be a battle but a compromise. You will create a new world in which people will decide if they would like to sin or be righteous without the actual slaughter and torment of mankind. I knew the intellectual abilities me and my fallen one gave humanity would eventually cancel each other out and you will be the one to control it through creating new worlds. Farewell chosen one, I must now go slumber in another realm.\"\n\nThe warmth of his voice now gone, I am once again seated at my table. I've known about my other personality for years but I tried so hard to forget it was there. I guess now I have the answers to the questions of my sanity. I was made like this for a reason. By creating new worlds he must have meant the matrix-like virtual reality I wanted to push onto the world. Murderers, sinners, rapists, and the evil can act out their fantasies without affecting the righteous by believing they are really doing it in a virtual world. Wars can be fought without a single death. I do want to bring peace into the world without judging what people are into. After all to each thier own, both sinners and good-doers know what they're getting themselves into. I myself have someone inside me who has hate in his heart and who are we to judge how and why people are the way they are. Chaos and Order are two sides of the coin. Why can't there be both. As long as everyone gets a fair chance at life without affecting the others around them. This must be why I was picked by two forces, seperate but together. Could I really be the chosen one?\n\n\n\n\n\nTo the readers: thanks for taking the time to read this. This is my first time doing something like this, and writing it off my phone nonetheless. Please forgive any grammar errors, I'm not really a writer but thought I'd try it on for size. You all have a great day.",
"A booming voice thundered inside my head, like a thought, but it definitely wasnt mine. \n\n\"What the hell Dawn Star?\" \n\nThe angelic being before me cringed, his wings flexing and shoulders clenched as if readying for a fight. \n\nHe looked at me with piercing eyes that actually shone, bright yellow, then orange, then red, then yellow again, as if alive with flame. \n\n\"His words automatically translate. It has to do with Him talking through your thoughts rather than using words like civilized beings\"\n\nThe earth shook, lighting cracked, and thunder boomed forth. \n\n\"And He cant take a joke. I dont believe I've introduced myself. Hi, Im Lucifer. That little voice in your head, well in everyone's head, thats God.\"\n\nNo this cant be. God isnt real. I mean maybe a supreme being is real, but a multi-dimensional being with the power to create universes would talk to humans. This is absurd. \n\"This is absurd. Tell me who you really are.\"\n\nAnother voice boomed into existence from inside my head. \n\n\"Fool! Do not doubt me or my angels!\"\n\nMy head throbbed. And my hand is covered in blood. O shit, my nose is bleeding.\n\nThe angel before me waved his hand, and the blood was gone, my headache was gone, and my knee feels a lot better. Wow, I cant believe I'd been living with that kind of pain. \n\n\"Listen kid, God and I are done. You humans are too much trouble for too small of a reward. I mean you guys arent even born with souls anymore. That well dried up back in 1945. I dont know how but you guys killed a horseman of the apocalypse while he was in Japan. Without all of them your world cant come to an end.\"\n\nWait, apocalypse? Horsemen? \"What the hell is going on?\"\n\n\"Funny you should say, I'm giving you hell. Literally, you will reign over Hell.\"\n\n\"Wait one moment Dawn Star\" the voice once again thundered. My nose is bleeding again. \n\n\"Listen big man, you have to stop that, the kid isnt Divine yet. He cant handle a divine presence without serious injury.\"\n\nEverything is weird and furzy...fuzzy, or furry. Just weird. and black. \n\n \n\n\"what the hell where am I?!\"\n \n\"Dont worry, you're in Heaven. Call me Gabriel.\" \n\n\"wow, gabriel is gorgeous\" shit did I say that out loud? \"shit, did I say that out loud?\" \n\n\"Calm down dear one. the Holy Spirit tried to commune with you, but you are not divine. If it werent for Lucifer, you'd be dead. Im actually surprised He let you back in, old friend.\" she ended, speaking to Lucifer. \n\n\"Gabby, so nice to see you too. I take it you haven't heard the news. The big man and I are taking a break. Calling a truce as it were.\"\n\n\"Dont call me that. And I suppose its not a surprise, ever since WWII earth has been, well in Limbo, even more than Limbo is.\"\n\n\"Gabs, c'mon. We go wa-oof\" \n\nHoly shit did an angel just slap Satan in the face? \"Holy shit did you just slap Satan in the face?\" I need to stop talking. \n\n\"You need to stop talking. Youre still mildly concussed.\"\n\n\"Gabriel, was that really necessary?\"\n\nThe air seem to crackle between the two angels as Gabriel stared Lucifer down.\n\n\"I'm sorry, listen, I need him, he's taking over everything.\"\n\n\"What do you mean I'm taking over? You havent answered any of my questions\"\n\n\"Would you excuse us Gabriel?\n\nListen closely. God and I are quitting. We're moving on to bigger and better projects. One's that actually go according to plan. Everything is staying for you to use, the Angels, and my Demons. All the souls have already been collected and Purgatory is locked, so you dont have to worry about that one. Im giving you the keys to Hell. After that you need to go see the Big Man himself. He'll give you the keys to Heaven. We both chose you, for some reason. I was looking for the most vile human being, but it seems there is some good in you else wise He wouldn't have chose you. Gabriel will you come back in please? Take our guest to see Him if you'd be so kind. Oh wait before you go\"\n\nLucifer clasped my arm in his firm hand, It started burning, the 'veins' in his hand started writhing. Try as I might I could not pull away. Flames tore from his eyes and mouth, his wings burned leaving only a skeletal frame, and then it all went back to normal. On my arm was a mark, a brand, with accompanying tattoo marks, emblazoned in living flames. \n\n\"The key I promise you. It is also the doorway.\" He raised his hand the same mark coming to life parted the air directly behind him, flames roared forth the envelope him, and he was gone.\n\n\"Come with me\" the remaining angel said. \n\n \n\n\"Go through the door. What you see is God, or rather it will be a representation of him that you can understand.\"\n\nPuzzled, I strode through the door. Worse comes to worse, I'll just flame out of here like Lucifer did.\n\nWhat the hell, or what the heaven maybe? \"Jeff Bridges?\"\n\n\"My dude. Come in. No, I am God, this is the form that you chose for me\"\n\nHe sat down and promptly poured himself, well I guess Himself, a white Russian, gently stirring in the powdered creamer with His pinky finger. \n\n\"Want one?\"\n\n\"Uh, maybe just a beer?\"\n\n\"Sure thing my dude. Try this one, its a local brew.\"\n\n\"thanks\" i said, even more puzzled by the aspect that heaven has a local brew than Jeff Bridges being my God. \"Uh, do you have a bottle opener?\"\n\n\"Yeah man\" He said whilst waving his hand, and sure enough, the cap flew right off.\n\n\"So man, you must be like really confused, huh?\"\n\n\"Uh yeah I am-wow, this is amazing\"\n\n\"Good huh? Arariel is a genius. So now to business. I've chosen you to lead in my stead, and apparently so has Satan. I've already made all the preparations and I am not spending another century here redoing it all, so you will have to rule both heaven and hell, and keep the balance on earth. It is a lot of responsibility, but my domain practically runs itself so no need to worry about the daily droll, or even the decadely droll. I usually check in once or twice a century. You have an overpowering sense of duty to your fellows, and you are at heart a good person, the furthest from selfish a mortal can be, not only that but you long for knowledge and are one of the few humans ever to actually be able to possess immortality. For these reasons you are my successor. Come here, drink this.\"\n\nThe cup He drained previously now filled again with the purest water. As I drank He placed a hand on my unmarked arm. A chilling sensation swept over my. I could feel the water drank make its way to my arm. it swirled beneath my skin. When He let go, a mark, or brand, was there, with accompanying tattoo marks, cool flowing water bright white. \n\nAnd then he was gone. As I walked outside the angels bowed to me. It would seem my reign has begun. ",
"Light, holy and brilliant, radiated from the angel's visage, and his voice hung chiming in the air after every word. There was no question that when he spoke, it was with the voice of his Creator. Anyone else would have covered their eyes, shown their weakness, but I resisted the urge. Even had I weaknesses to show, I would not dare, not in this company, not here at the end of things. \n \n\"We have watched man's rise and fall. We have seen the best your kind have to offer, and the worst. Your motives, great and petty, wicked and noble, virtuous and vile, secretive and obvious - all are plain to us, splintered and broken as they may be. Long have We sought for one with the necessary purity of intent to inherit Our rule. Only you have exhibited this purity. Your soul burns with it, and We have always sought light to stave away the darkness.\" \n \n\"Wow, wow, yeah, hoo-boy, okay, damn. That's a hell of a speech, if you'll pardon the back-to-back puns there, son, and if I were anyone else I think I'd have trouble following it, but hey - they don't call me silver-tongued for nothing.\" No intermediary stood for the fallen one. He had arrived in a cloud of brimstone, clad in fabric woven from the darkness of his kingdom, borne aloft on tattered and burning wings despite his untarnished countenance. \"Listen, champ. All that drivel about purity of intent sounds great and all - I mean, hell, far as I can tell He's right and you know that's no surprise - but you know damn well why I'm here. That purity of intent is greed, boy. It's malice. It's pride. Hell, it's megalomania. Your 'intent' isn't to save the world, or protect it, or avenge or defend it, like so many of your... social circle... sure, slugger, you want to unite the world, but you want it united under your unquestioned and absolute rule... and son, let me tell you. I like it. I like it a lot.\" \n \nNeither of them could physically see the corners of my mouth, lifting into an unfamiliar grin, but its effect was nonetheless evident on their faces. I took a moment to compose myself, modulating my voice to remove any hint of amusement. \"Metatron, voice of the Lord Above. You are, as in almost all things, correct. My intent is pure, and my will is unmatched. Lightbringer, Lord Below, despite your penchant for treachery, you are correct as well. My end goal is rule over all things, of which I alone, among all that yet live, am worthy.\" \n \nThey opened their mouths almost in unison, but I lifted my hands to silence them, power already beginning to coruscate around my gauntlets. \"Yes. You understand. By coming here, by announcing your intentions, you have removed the last obstacles in my path. You cannot hope to stand against me now, even though you finally see your blunder. I have spent my life preparing for this day, and there are none left to stop me. I am the greatest and worst of mankind, beneficent and malevolent. I will rule in your places, as the Lord Above and Below, the One Above All, where no one - **NO ONE** - else is fit to rule. \n \nNo one - except **Doom**.\"",
"They were two and they stood on the corner of West and First in the wind and rain. \n\nOne was an old man who wore a three piece suit and carried no umbrella or coat. He was drenched and steam rolled off his shoulders in gentle waves, resting in pools at his feet. He grinned the smile of an old man gone home, and looked to the sky, hands in trouser pockets.\n\nThe other stood beside him and wore a linen tunic and the guise of young man. Around his neck he wore a heavy iron pendant and on his face a grim smile. There were still many hours of daylight left but a streetlamp above him flared into temporary brilliance and then burst, glass sprinkling with the rain around him. The young man had this effect on things.\n\nThe old man gave him a look and laughed.\n\n'Should have never given them electricity, Friend.'\n\nThe young man looked down the intersecting streets and sighed. 'I didn't. You stole it for them, if you'll recall.'\n\nThe old man showed more teeth and nodded.\n\nThis is when I met them, walking in the wind and rain on my way home from work. I stopped across the street, checking for traffic of which there was none. The old man raised a hand and waved. \n\n'Ho there, James!'\n\nI thought I had misheard. \n\nHe waved me over towards them and I found myself crossing the street. The young man gave a look and waved a hand and I stopped dead in the centre of the intersection.\n\n'Do not ensorcel the recruit.'\n\n'What is happening right now?' I asked.\n\n'James,' the young man spoke, 'I am the creator, God, Yahweh an-'\n\n'Oh God.'\n\n'Yes' He nodded 'That's right and if-'\n\n'Am I dead?'\n\n'No, listen-'\n\nThe old man pulled out a pocket watch with thirteen hands and smiling a smile all caramel and honey, interrupted. 'Never were very good at relating to the kids, were you? You're not dead, James. We just both happen to want a word with you.'\n\n'Who are you?' I asked.\n\n'My name is Morningstar.'\n\n'He is the serpent.' The god disguised as a young man said.\n\nThe old man in the suit returned the watch and waved a lazy hand. 'Smoke and steam, old friend. Smoke and steam.'\n\nI realised I was still standing in the street and had not yet been hit by a car. There was no traffic, no noise save our conversation and the drum of rain, and no one else along the intersection. \n\n'Where is everyone?' I asked.\n\nThe one who named himself God closed his eyes, water tracing the curve of his eyes. 'We undid them for the moment. I'll put them back.'\n\nThe old man kicked a puddle with a worn leather shoe. 'We wanted some privacy in which to conduct our negotiation.' \n\nThunder cracked somewhere very close and the grey above turned black. The young man turned to the serpent, his eyes all wrath and fire and spoke with a voice like the passage of time 'No. Pacts.' \n\nI looked into man's eyes and I saw dust spinning into planets and those same planets shattered into glass and rock a thousand times and I shuddered and knew that what they'd said was true. This was God and Devil, this was a meeting in the middle of a storm.\n\n'Well,' God's eyes dimmed and turned their gaze to me. The serpent, grinning, followed suite. 'What's this offer then?'\n\n'We're retiring, kid.' The Devil said 'Eternity is a young man's game and we've had our fill, paid our dues so to speak.'\n\nI frowned and looked to God who was holding out a hand, watching rain pool in his calloused palm.\n\n'Problem is, we need replacements. I've been looking for someone truly sinful and ol' reightous over here has been looking for the truly true and pure of heart. Somehow...' The Devil paused and wiped water from his brow. 'We both ended up with you.'\n\nGod let the water pour from his hand and creased his brow. 'I should have never made you so complex. How is it we have both found you.'\n\nI shrugged.\n\n'Are you particularly Sinful, James?' The devil asked.\n\n'Not particularly.'\n\n'Are you pure, Child?' God asked.\n\nI gave a sideways frown.\n\n'Brilliant.' The devil laughed. 'Well he can't replace both of us. Certainly not if he's as perfectly balanced as he seems.' The Devil laid the last sentence out in the rain like a thick worm. \n\n'He will replace neither of you.' A voice like morning wind and long dead leaves rolled through the storm.\n\nDread passed across God's face and a chill ran up The Devil's spine. I looked past the two and saw a third. A woman dressed in jeans and black top.\n\n'Stay out of this.' God raised a finger and concern cracked across The Devil's mask. 'You have no business here, Carrion Crow.'\n\nThe woman smiled kindly and lightning splintered like a ruptered artery above us. 'Do not make me undo you, Yahweh. It's not yet time for that.'\n\n'He will be neither King of Heaven nor Lord of Hell because he is mine.' She looked at me and I felt a cool stream run through me, felt my hairs brissel and stand on end, felt the warmth of every grain of dirt and the gentle wetness of each drop of rain. 'He will be neither because he will be Caretaker of Purgatory.'\n\nThe woman walked between the old man and the young and held out a hand as she spoke.\n\n'You know me, as all do, Mortal. I am Entropy and Decay, I am blinding light and Dreadful shade, I am first breath and last sigh, I am vacuumous void and the space between all things. I am matter and I am oblivion. I am all these things and less.' She paused and smiled not unkindly. 'Would you like to be as well, James?'\n\nI nodded dumbly and took Death by the hand.",
"I kind of modified it a bit. I made it so that the man they chose got letters and goes to a shrink to talk about it. \n\nHere it is. Hope ya'll like it!\n\n“Hello, Michael I presume? I am Doctor Vince Channing, and this is my protégé, Pvt. John Daniels. You called about my services?”\n“Yes I did.”\n“Splendid. Right this way please. You take the couch.”\n“Thanks.”\n“Sir, this is for the record. I want you to state your name, occupation and where you currently work. Then you may start your story.”\n“Tell us everything you want to tell us. Go at your own pace.”\n“We’re ready when you are, sir.”\n“Thanks, you guys. Okay. My name is Michael Stone. I am head engineer, cofounder, and president of my company, CompuBright. Today I received a message, two actually, regarding my recruitment to another job. Now this may sound great, but you’d be surprised to hear what the jobs actually are. One message, written on beautifully handcrafted paper, and written in the most beautiful handwriting I’ve laid eyes on, was a statement saying God was retiring and he wanted me, as the most righteous man on earth to come to heaven and take over. The other was written on a molded and burnt piece of parchment in atrocious but still legible handwriting that said the devil was retiring and he wanted me to replace him as one of most evil people on the planet. Now I know I should probably just deny the devil, and I’m not comfortable about rejecting a job offer from God, but my only question is, why do they both want me?” \n“We could help you brainstorm.”\n“Anything will help, you guys.”\n“Alright, sir. Tell us about your homelife. Give us whatever info you wish.”\n“Okay. My wife and I are happily married with two children. Cassie, and Robert. Those are their names.”\n“Yes. Go on.”\n“I am the rock on which they live. They want nothing big from me except my love, and I am happy to provide them with more than that.”\n“Is that all?”\n“All I’m willing to say, but then again, I think I got my point across.”\n“Okay, sir. Now, tell us about your work life.”\n“I’m hard on my workers, not because I’m an asshole but because I push them to do their best. Many of my workers resent me, but all get equal pay and all are treated the same. I try to give each man and woman at my company equal work, but that can be hard for some. I run a tight ship. It’s just what I do. People also just resent me for whatever they want, but I don’t care. Insults float through one ear and out of the other.”\n“Is that all sir?”\n“All in terms of my work life? Yes. That is all.” \n“I think I see why God would want you to replace him. He asks the same out of all the people He has made. Some don’t want to do that and some resent Him for it. You love your workers equally and you only wish the best for them. You also love your family, and they don’t ask much from you.”\n“But, sir, I think I see why the devil wants you to replace him. He wants someone who doesn’t care what people think of him. He wants someone who can work people to their wits end and then some. Forgive my shorthand speak, sir, but are you an asshole?”\n“Lots of people call me one, but I do not see myself as an asshole. You are forgiven by the way.”\n“See what you said just there? I believe you definitely should take the job!”\n“What did I say?”\n“Sir, you said that you forgave me. It should be a no brainer.”\n“I’m going to be honest. I’m going to have to reject the job offer from both right now. The devil’s one indefinitely, but I will take the job when my life has run its course. Once I die, I’ll see if I can take to Heaven the note God wrote me, and sit down for a one on one interview. I want to see for myself if I have the mettle to take on the job.”\n“That is a very righteous decision of you, sir.”\n“Quite. I’ll see to it you pay nothing for my services today.”\n“How much will it cost, doc. C’mon. You get paid for this stuff.”\n“I don’t want your money.”\n“I’ll put three hundred dollars on the table, and you are going to take it.”\n“Okay, fine. At least let me shave half the price off.”\n“… Deal. One hundred fifty it is.” *Takes a deep breath* “Thanks for your time, Dr. Channing, and thank you for yours as well, private Daniels.”\n“The pleasure is all ours. Have a great day!”\n“You too!”\n",
"Yesterday was my birthday. Thirty-five years attempting to make a go at life. Sometimes I wonder what the point of half those years was; being in school is like waiting for your life to begin. Sometimes I wonder what I’ve been doing with the entirety of those years. I can’t say that I’ve accomplished much in my life, unless you count all those expense reports and spreadsheets, documenting the results of what other people have done.\n\nHowever, yesterday was my birthday and I was asked the two most important questions ever asked. Maybe. I’m not a historian, so I can’t be sure.\n\nSatan first visited me around 11 in the morning. Lucifer, actually, since Satan is really a title and apparently he’s too down to earth (or down below earth?) to parade around under a title that doesn’t involve some form of democratic approval. He told me he has had a good run of it, but is ready to retire and has selected me as his replacement. I have no experience in tormenting people, seeing as I have never reached middle-management level, so I asked what could have possibly made him choose me of all people. He just said, “You have the greatest potential for evil I have ever seen. You have until midnight to decide.”\n\nI was still in shock when there was a knock on the door and I opened it to find God on my doorstep. Coincidentally, God is fine with being addressed by formal title. God too asked if I would become his replacement. I stared at him for a moment before asking “greatest potential for good?” He nodded and said I could have until midnight to decide as well.\n\nI spent the next twelve hours contemplating what exactly potential is. I was never good at physics, but I remember potential energy being what something had if it wasn’t doing anything. When a ball was on the top of a cliff it had the most potential energy and as it fell it had a lot of kinetic energy and lost its potential energy. Since I couldn’t remember any examples of something losing potential energy as it went up and I didn’t really want to fall off a cliff, I went to work creating an alternate plan.\n\n“A democratic election?” both God and Satan asked incredulously. They looked at each other for a long while before turning back to me. “That would actually be perfect.” Satan said, thoughtfully. “Humans always elect the people best at lying and corrupting souls to suit their purposes.” God did not look amused. “But what about God? Power like that cannot be decided by democracy!” We all stood there, looking at our feet for what seemed like an eternity before I had another idea. “Just give the position to the person who wants it the least. Then they wont abuse it.” After some thoughtful nods, God replied, “That just might work! We should also appoint a council to oversee these positions and make sure all duties are being performed properly.” Satan smiled the slowest, most mischievous smile and said, “Wonderful!”\n\nIn that moment they instantly disappeared, presumably to start the search for new potential candidates and the overseeing committee, and I was left to continue doing nothing and remain unmatched in potential energy.",
"\"I just have one question... Lucifer, Yahweh. Why me? If you are looking for the most righteous, or the most evil, why me? I'm just an average salaryman!\"\nIt was the lilting cadence of Lucifer that answered.\n\n\"You already know, I mean it's obvious. Every human is capable of great evil and great kindness. So take the most average human, THE median, and give them ultimate power. It's the only way to ensure it won't be abused. Such a person would be paralyzed by indecision on how to act, and end up doing nothing.\n\n\"Which is of course the point. Do you think ultimate cosmic power would be worth anything if it was used? That would be boring and free will would be dead. Lucy and I set the universe a-ticking millennia ago and have just watched it run ever since.\"\n\n\"Anyways, have fun being the omniscience, if you get bored go crash some stars into each other somewhere out in space, doing it with a field of water is cool too, the steam is quite something.\"\n\nAnd with that, the immortals vanished to their retirement. I took watch on them sometimes, they became a human husband and wife and traveled the world. To be honest it was all rather droll.\n"
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[WP] Two armies with entirely alien weaponry and tactics go to war. Describe the battle.
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"The Observer swam through the the Great Void Sea, invisible and undetectable to the two approaching fleets. Here, above the verdant planet that one side had named Asha'Vala, and the other had named Tok-Ruk. The Vakrids were an insectoid species, their vessels flooded with a thick, brilliant purple liquid. They interfaced directly with the mechanisms that controlled their ships. \n\nThe other ships were controlled by the Sokkin-Var. Their race was split between the large hominid forms of Vesig-Rai and the slighter Cerin-Rai. Their ships were stout, not built for raw speed. Rather, their hulls were thick and resilient, and projected powerful blast shields.\n\nThe Vakrid ships were sleeker, but bulged and undulated in strange ways. They almost seemed alive. Their shields were up, a purplish haze drifting around them as they floated nearer to the Tok-Ruk. The Observer blinked, knowing what was to come, but keeping vigilant regardless.\n\nThe Tok-Ruk shot first, as always. But the first casualty was theirs as well. Vakrid stealth-bombers had come up on the Tok-Ruk rear before they could scatter them. The Tok-Ruk proceeded to retaliate with a salvo of weaponry that shot forth into the Void Sea and shredded through Vakrid shield and destroyed the ship in the center. They kept firing these munitions, but the Vakrid began shooting down the attacks. \n\nThe fight raged on for a while. Vakrid would shoot down the weapons of the Tok-Ruk, but the Tok-Ruk were being picked off by stealth attacks that their heavier ships couldn't handle. Eventually they were able to send out smaller fighters that could engage them ship-to-ship, but the damage had been done. The Vakrid began moving in on the ragged fleet, and scything through their heavy hulls with powerful energy beams. The Vakrid were going to feast, tonight.\n\nThe Observer relayed this information to it's masters. Within moments, the fleet of the Fexx had arrived. They immediately began attacking the unsuspecting Vakrid with their directed heat beams. Within moments, the Vakrid were nothing but rubble and purple liquid blooming around them.\n\nThe Watcher reported this information to it's masters...",
"**I'm gonna preface this by saying that when I write things like this, I imagine it like a movie. So it's probably best read that way too** scene fades into the interior of a troop transport VTOL. Outside you hear the sound of explosions and artillery. Men and women dressed in the newest high tech gear sit on both sides, with low solemn faces. Suddenly a door opens from the front of the craft. A man wearing a different, fancier, version of the armor walks in. \"Alright people. I know basic was hard. I know some of you are fresh recruits, and others seasoned veterans. But today, all that matters is that you can work together. Now HALO is in a minute so be ready. Whatever happens out there, just remember that the fate of your country rests on you shoulders.\" **Camera pans to the face of a soldier looking extremely nervous, panning over his badge reading Pvt. Mendez** \"Nervous Mendez?\" \"Yeah, yeah, fuck off Smith.\" Suddenly they heard the buzz. It was like an alarm to wake up, and a dinner bell to their death. One by one they jumped, making a scene that looked like human rain. As they descended into the first attack on China's mainland, they saw many ships like their own being blown out of the sky. Only some made it to the ground. When asked after the war what his most prominent memory was, he would respond by saying,\"The first assault. The day I saw real war. I lost brothers. I won't forget the last words I heard before I jumped. I heard someone say to themselves 'Mom, Dad, I'm coming home.\"",
"**A long way from home, 1st of July 2834**\n\nThe boatswain stood on the edge of the cliff and gazed out at the empty sea.\n\nWith no emotion rising from his chest, he gazed at the two alien suns which were climbing inexorably above the horizon. He knew they would come in the day, the enemy would never dare to venture towards his camp at night. At night the darkness was his ally. He rung the large brass bell suspended from an incredibly ordinary oak tree to rouse the morning watch, dawn had broken and they had to remain vigilant. Within five minutes a dozen men had surrounded the rudimentary camp twenty miles from the wreckage of HMS *Path of Righteousness*. This watch, a couple of officers and the other dozen men who lay asleep in the tents were all that was left of the great battleship's crew but still they soldiered on, still they kept to their orders. Defend the colony, whatever the cost may be.\n\nThe enemy was resourceful, much more fearsome than the French, Russian and Washingtonian forces that had once laid waste to this fertile land. They had been a problem which could be solved with enough ships, guns and brave men and women willing to lay down their lives for His Majesty King William V, King of the Commonwealth and Emperor of the Celestial Colonies. This enemy was different. Sweeping though the oecumene of humanity like the angel of death, killing without regard for age, creed or colour. Utterly alien, completely removed from anything the armed forces had encountered and as unstoppable as the tide slowly pouring into the Dovey Bay below him and the two suns rising above his aching, desperate head.\n\nThe pattern was the same no matter what. Men, women and children would turn their heads seemingly at random as though there were something behind them. Survivors reported the enemy could only be seen out of the corner of an eye, gone as soon as they turned around. Paranoia would set in. A feeling of dread you could cut with a knife fell like fog. As soon as people tried to leave the enemy would arrive, slaughtering the population. The enemy wouldn't take anything, not possessions nor slaves. No attempt at political control would be made. The enemy did not come to dominate or conquer, only to kill. The enemy could not be harmed by any weapon of man, the boatswain remembered this well. His home had been one of the first to fall to the enemy, he'd emptied his Enfield beam-rifle into the enemy and slashed at the enemy with a heavy Volta sword but the enemy was untouchable.\n\nOr so they had thought. There was a way to fight the enemy, no arcane weapons dreamed up by the Board of Ordinance or oblation offered by the Church would defend against the enemy but there was a way. The boatswain was ready, and waited impatiently for the enemy to arrive.\nFinally. Barely visible, a patch of sky just slightly brighter than the others. He willed the enemy towards him. He thought of his men, condemned to die for their country yet still fighting, still proud.\n\nHis heart beat faster. The air shimmered. Good.\n\nHe thought of his children, so far away. Sent to London where the enemy had never been sighted.\n\nThe world grew brighter.\n\nHe thought of his wife, taken by the enemy and suddenly something inside him gave way. Something rushed up his spine, towards the top of his head. A beacon to the enemy. The enemy descended on him, connecting with him. Feeding off him. Killing him.\n\nThe boatswain looked towards the sky.\n\nThe world was white, as white as the gates of Heaven.\n\nHe plunged the instrument into his heart, at peace with the knowledge that the enemy connected to him, feeding off his life would now share in his death."
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[WP] Those aren't freckles, they're a star map.
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"[To celebrate Fountain Pen Day, I wrote this story about outer space with a fountain pen with Diamine Majestic Blue ink. Please read the story handwritten for the full experience, and check out fountain pens if you haven't; they're amazing and beautiful.](http://imgur.com/a/9NgqU)\n\nTyped version:\n\n---\n\n“Those Aren’t Freckles, They’re A Star Map”\n\n[The following is the transcript of a theoretical astrophysics conference held in Washington D.C. in 2036 A.D.]\n\nMaxwell: This meeting has been called together due to the urgent need for us—the greatest minds currently alive on Earth—to understand eachother during this time of great crisis. As we know, an alien presence has been detected moving toward our planet, and it will reach us by 2040. We have 4 years-\n\nEster: Maxwell, I apologize for interrupting, but my team and I have made some discoveries of great moment. We believe that an introduction may be skipped, as our ideas need to be put into action as soon as possible.\n\nMaxwell: While I admire your sense of urgency—for the situation is indeed urgent—we have some important guests who will benefit from the introduction. As I was about to say, the press is now watching us. Yes, the eyes of the world are upon us, for the first time since 2025. We will get to your discovery soon, Ester, but we need to inform the masses—they are pushing inward on and swaying the little fence that surrounds us.\n\nEster: It’s just that we need to grow a human in a test tube, and that takes time.\n\nMaxwell: What? You need to grow a human? That is ethically questionable, Ester, and rarely done. Please try to speak carefully, as every word will be judged. Let me continue explaining the situation to the public, please. We’ll get to your human thing shortly.\n\nEster: Fine.\n\nMaxwell: The aliens will reach Earth in 4 years. They are also a little less than 4 light years away, so, yes, they are traveling at about the speed of light. Since we have not yet discovered a means of traveling light-speed, we believe that these aliens are technologically much greater than our own civilization. Frankly, there is no way we could win a fight against them. But don’t worry: we have developed a very feasible way of evading the aliens entirely. And for that I introduce acclaimed physics professor, Dr. Oberon.\n\nDr. Oberon: Thank you Maxwell. The means of evasion are indeed very feasible. We will utilize a nearby wormhole to relocate Earth to a solar system 10 trillion light-years away, which has a sun similar to our own. Through extensive physics calculations my team has found that this worm-hole-jump has a 100% chance of success. But there is one problem: we still don’t know how to move Earth the two light-years to the site of the wormhold.\n\nEster: The wormhole is unnecessary.\n\nMaxwell: Ester, we will get to your ideas soon. Now, I ask as an open question, How can we move the Earth those two light years?\n\nUnidentified man wearing a brown T-shirt: The oil fields of Saudi Arabia! Wait till the Earth’s rotation is right, and then just drop a match down one of them oil wells. Boom! Earth is on Jupiter!\n\nMaxwell: Has this method of propulsion been verif-\n\nEster: No! That doesn’t make any sense at all. Who IS that guy? Can I please explain how we can all get to that safe sun 10 trillion light years away?\n\nMaxwell: . . .\n\nEster: Yes? My team and I, as you should know, have been studying the shape of the universe. It’s not simply a sphere of cube like one might think. Many shapes have been proposed—the universe is like a folded piece of paper, the universe is like a hotdog, etc. My team and I, however, have discovered the actual shape.\n\nMaxwell: What is the universe shaped like?\n\nEster: It’s shaped like a person.\n\nMaxwell: A person? A human being?\n\nEster: Yes, a human being. And it’s not just any human being. We analyzed the shape more closely and found that it is probably shaped almost exactly like Albert Einstein.\n\nMaxwell: That’s unbelievable. Why is the universe shaped like Einstein?\n\nEster: It has something to do with the observer effect. Einstein was the first to-\n\nOliver, over a telephone from the Outback Observatory: Hello? Hello? Hello. I’ve seen something strange in the data. The aliens are somehow only two light years away now.\n\n[Pandemonium broke out and many people were talking at once.]\n\nUnidentified male yell: I’m gonna kill myself!\n\nEster: Everyone calm down. There’s still hope.\n\nMaxwell: The universe is shaped like Albert Einstein. So what?\n\nUnidentified shirtless man: Blow up Saudi Arabia! Death to the Arabians!\n\nEster: Earlier I mentioned that the universe has been considered to be like a folded piece of paper. Thus you could travel to another part of the universe, from the part you are in now, by moving to the other half of the paper.\n\nDr. Oberon: You would be taking a wormhole.\n\nEster: Right.\n\nMaxwell: But the universe isn’t shaped like a folded piece of paper. You said it’s shaped like freaking Albert Einstein.\n\nEster: That’s why we need to grow a clone of Albert. Then we can see all the contours of the universe in detail. It would take too long to grow an adult, but a baby would be sufficient. All I need is some Albert Einstein DNA.\n\nMaxwell: Does anyone here know how to get ahold of some Einstein DNA?\n\n[end transcription]\n\n[The following is dialogue recorded at Einstein Junior’s 3rd birthday party.]\n\nEinstein Jr.: Hahaha, a freckle!\n\nEster: Those aren’t freckles, they’re a star map.\n\nEinstein Jr.: I’m a map of outer space . . .\n\nEster: Yes, yes you are, Einstein.",
"\"Because you were born dipped in stardust,\" Mom the hippie used to say. As she grew older and her constellation grew larger then smaller - losing the coordinates to friends, family, lovers, her life no celestial party told by the Greeks and Babylonians to the beat of mythic time but a deadly mortal routine of sundries wedged in upholstery, mortgages and school board meetings - she learned to call them by what other earthbound peasants call them. \n\nSometimes the old hippie pops up, taking a break from whatever it is that dying stars do inside their nebulas when they aren't in Florida. When her eight-year-old daughter cried because some jerk kid told her she'll never be pretty because of her dirty face and arms, she was surprised to hear Mom in her throat, those words springing to action like a huntsman.",
"I always tried to tell Destiny those freckles she had were beautiful but she never believed me. She always tried to cover them up and make sure no one ever saw them. But i saw something more in them. At first i couldnt explain it. It seemed so familiar but i could never figure out why... until now.\nIm sitting in my astronomy class not really paying attention. Just thinking about how much i miss her and going through my pics of her when i come upon one of her without makeup. Then i see something that i know i have seen before. My professor just showed us these constellations this morning and they match perfectly to her beautiful face.\nThe weird part is this specific constellation is the one NASA scientists believe have alien like structures around. She always told me she was different i guess i never understood how... until now.",
"Jessica came running through the front door slamming it behind before heading straight to her bedroom. She buried her head into her pillows trying to block out all the 'stupid' boys & girls who had been calling names.\n\nThe whole first week she had spent at her new primary school she had been constantly made fun of for her bright orange hair & abundance of freckles that scattered across her face. \n\n*It wasn't her fault*, she thought. *It was her mum & dads for making her like this*. She just wanted to have a normal hair colour and a normal face like everybody else did; was that too much to ask?\n\n**Knock Knock**\n\nSomebody was knocking on her door.\n\n'Go away,' shouted Jessica; her head still smothered in her pillow.\n\n'Can I come in, darling?' said the soothing voice of her mother.\n\n'No,' Jessica retorted. 'I just want to be alone!'\n\nJessica sat up as she heard her mother open the door and come in despite what she had said. She sat on the bed next to her covering up the pillow which was now covered in small droplets of tears.\n\n'What's the matter, Jessie?'\n\n'Everyone has been making fun of me at school'\n\n'Now why would they do that?' replied Mum whilst she gently pushed the red hair away that had gotten stuck to the tear stains on Jessica's face.\n\n'Because I'm ginger and I have these dirty freckles all over me!'\n\nJessica got a bit annoyed as she watch a small smile appear on the face of her mother.\n\n'They obviously don't know how special they make you.'\n\n'Special?' asked Jessica.\n\n'Yes,' replied Mum. 'Your hair is bright orange just like fire! You brighten the life of everyone you are around and make them feel warm inside. And your freckles... Those aren't freckles, they're a star map that can show you the way to achieve whatever dream you have in life even when the clouds are blocking the actual stars in the sky. So next time someone tries to make fun of you just ignore them and remember how special you really are.'\n\nJessica stopped crying and wrapped her arms tightly around her mother.\n\n'What did you find when you followed your star map, Mum?'\n\n'I found you, Jessica.'\n\n\n(First Writing Prompt be gentle...)",
"\"I can see the big dipper on your face!\" I laughed, pointing at my friend Tina.\nShe scowled and replied with a sharp \"fuck you\".\n\"Chill, it's just a joke\" I said\n\"You don't get it\"\nShe stared at me and a great sadness reflected in her eyes. I saw the cosmos swirl inside of them, galaxies and spirals mesmerizing me, rooting me to the spot.\n\"I am so high right now\" I said, blowing out smoke from my mouth.",
"'So many of them,' said Arlos, placing his hand on the glass of the huge curved window of the viewing gallery. 'They're so beautiful.'\n\nI turned my attention back to the view outside. The stars certainly were beautiful. A huge bronze-coloured nebula took up most of the view right now, its heart scintillating with tiny pinpricks of light. Around it lay the dark expanse of deep space, a place that struck both fear and awe into both our hearts.\n\n'Just think,' said Arlos. 'Every one of those stars could have a planet in orbit around them, a planet that could harbour intelligent life. There could be hundreds or even thousands of Earth-like worlds out there just waiting to be discovered. We just have to get to them.'\n\nHe looked sidelong at me. He had that look in his eyes again, that look that betrayed his complete and utter fascination with the cosmos. I smiled back at him.\n\n'You realise how long it would take to do that?' I said. 'You could spend a lifetime exploring a single planet if it was interesting enough. To find one where the inhabitants might be anything like us, you'd have to be practically immortal.'\n\n'I'd happily spend my life flying from star to star if I could,' he replied, staring at a distant red dwarf as he spoke. 'Still, I'd like to know that we weren't alone in the universe before I die.'\n\nI sighed and put my hand on the glass beside his, the heat from my skin steaming the glass slightly.\n\n'I know how you feel,' I said. 'But how would we ever find them?'\n\nArlos nodded sadly and exhaled slowly through his nose as he looked up at our hands on the glass. 'Yes, it's a dream that I fear will never be...' He trailed off.\n\nI looked at his face, raising an eyebrow. 'Never be...what?' I said. I followed his gaze up to my hand on the glass. 'What are you staring at?'\n\n'The back of your hand, Lira...' he said, taking his hand off the window and pointing at my hand. 'Look at that set of freckles.'\n\nFreckles? I knew their pattern like... well, the back of my hand, but they were just some oddly arranged freckles. They weren't anything special: just five light brown specks in a pattern roughly like an arrow pointing at my index finger's knuckle.\n\n'What about them?' I said. Arlos gestured for me to move my head slightly to the right and then pointed at a patch of stars just above and to the right of the the nebula. I squinted at what he was pointing at, then at the pattern on my hand, then back again.\n\nThere was no doubt about it. The stars matched them exactly.\n\n'Those aren't freckles,' he said. 'They're a star map.'\n\n***\n\n'Are you sure we should be doing this?' I said, following Arlos into the shuttle bay. 'Why don't we just tell our parents about the stars?'\n\nArlos paused halfway up the stairway of one of the long-range shuttles. 'They'd just say it was a coincidence or tell us they'd send a probe. Trust me, they wouldn't want to waste resources on something they thought would be a waste of time. But I know this is something real.' He turned and walked into the shuttle.\n\n'But Arlos!' I cried, following him up into the cockpit. He was already booting up the systems and flicking switches. I felt the engines hum as they wound up to speed.\n\n'You can't just steal a shuttle and go exploring for an alien planet that may or may not exist!' I said. 'All you have to go on is a bunch of freckles on my hand!'\n\n'That's enough for me,' he said. The shuttle rocked slightly as it floated out of the shuttle bay on its antigravity thrusters. I saw the space station slowly receding from view through the windscreen. There was a moment as the attitude adjusters turned the nose to point at the distant constellation.\n\nI blanched as I felt the warp drive rumble into life and quickly pulled myself into the co-pilot's seat, strapping myself in. Arlos reached up and pulled a large switch down on the dashboard, and everything dissolved in a bright storm of white-blue light.\n\n***\n\nI finally opened my eyes as the light faded. We weren't anywhere near where we had started, that much was certain. Ahead of us, a grey-green planet floated in the void, partially occluding the bright young sun behind it. I looked over at Arlos, who was staring at the planet.\n\n'We're here,' he said.\n\nSuddenly, the radio on the dashboard flickered into life. A deep, rasping voice spoke from the speakers, startling us both.\n\n'Greetings, Lira,' it said. 'It is good to finally have you back.'"
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Bonus points for not making it seem like deus ex machina.
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[WP] In order to save her comrades in a near inescapable situation, a woman gives in to a demon who has long been trying to possess her.
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">First time posting a prompted story. Hope you like and sorry that it's so late. \n>Million edits because formatting.\n\n*“Come on! Give in my sweet~”* His voice was seductive as always, it made shivers run down her spine, even now as the synchronized sound of marching boots echoed down the hall. \n\n*Just shut it.* She returned to him, trying to think.\n\n“What should we do boss?” Her second in command, handsome young lad, but not her first choice in who went with her to this job.\n\n“Hush, let the woman think.” Hugo said, gun ready to go and a look of readiness about him. He would go out in a blaze of bullets if she asked him to. But she wasn't about to do that.\n\n*“You can't get out of here alive without me~”* the voice seemed louder now, making itself try to be the only choice she had. It might have been true.\n\nA voice down the hall called out orders, “Shoot on sight. No survivors.” \n\n“Alright!” She said, seeming both angry and defeated.\n\n“Wonderful.” He wasted no time taking over her body, giving her his demonic strength, sight and healing abilities. While in the dark room her comrades couldn't see much but they did see her eyes start to glow a bright orange.\n\n“B-boss?”\n\nThe demon in her grinned and turned his attention to the door, suddenly running at it and shoving Hugo out of the way, accidentally clawing deep gashes though his coat and into his arm. He placed a foot on the base of the door and simply pushed it down, breaking the heavy metal hinges that kept the thick slab of wood in place.\n\nSeveral bullets flew past. The demon called on his magic, creating a invisible shield then stepping out into the dimly lit hallway. The light revealed a woman with clawed hands, one already dripping red and two ever increasing horns curving back slickly against her head.\n\nAs she stepped out the enemy solders silenced themselves, too chocked to even yell. The only one who did manage to yell was their commander, telling everyone to shoot her down.\n\nThe demon just grinned, holding his arms beside his body in a very come-at-me pose. The transformation was nearly complete. He knew because he felt two very sore spots in his back. \n\nThe rain of bullets started, hitting his shield and dropping onto the ground, spent.\n\nA sickening snap of bones and tearing of flesh accompanied the silence as their guns ran out of ammo. Two red leathery wings burst forth from his back, snapping out straight behind him and throwing blood everywhere. “My turn...” He breathed horsey, crouching down then lunging at them.\n\nThe hall was not tall but wide and stretched on for quite a while. He needn’t reach the end, only make it to the back of the group. When the demon turned to admire his work he smiled, seeing the carved up bodies and slash marks on the walls just gave him a sense of accomplishment and glee.\n\nAnother sight caught his eye, the living friends of the woman he was taking over, starring at him with fear and amazement.\n\n“You guy's can get out of here on your own right?” He placed a hand on his hip, long spaded tail curling playfully behind him.\n\nOne of the men nodded while others where still preoccupied with not pissing themselves, very few were succeeding, at least he thought so.\n\n“Good, Because I think I’ve earned a night on the town!” He turned his back on them and crouched down like some kind of animal then lunged forward again, using his wings to propel himself down the hall, looking for a way out and eliminating anyone that got in his way.",
"\"You're a prick.\"\n\n\"This has been a long time coming Joan. You know the guy upstairs doesn't care about these people.\"\n\n\"Doesn't change the fact that you're a prick.\"\n\n\"Now you're just trying to hurt my feelings.\"\n\nShe laughed, took out a packet of fags and sparked up.\n\n\"Is it working?\" she asked, offering her companion one.\n\n\"No, and no thank you. You really should watch your health.\"\n\n\"Tunnel, light, yada yada,\" she said. \"I know.\"\n\n\"I was thinking more firestone and brimstone.\"\n\n\"Makes a change. Blighty is so miserable. Just rain, rain, rain.\"\n\n\"Is that what brought you here? A change of scenery.\"\n\nHe opened his arms wide and the walls of the church began to burn, flickering out of existence to show the landscape beyond. The small town was beautiful and pristine. The white picket fences the Yanks seemed so fond of. Pavements filled with kids laughing and playing.\n\nAnd then the flames spread and the fences burned and the children stopped playing.\n\nJoan took a drag and turned back to look at the body lying on the church floor. The blood had begun to pool against the raised salt lines of the pentagram. Such a young girl, so much life ahead of her.\n\n\"Nasty one him,\" her companion said, the red of his skin soaking in the flames. \"Enjoys playing with them first. Hope and despair. Joy and loneliness.\"\n\n\"He's still in there?\"\n\nHer red-skinned companion knocked at the foot of the deceased, listening to the death rattle of soul and demon.\n\n\"Oh yeah, he's in there.\"\n\n\"I do this, you get one Winter.\"\n\n\"And the Spring.\"\n\n\"No sprees. Or any dead hookups. I don't wanna be using bleach in the shower for the rest of my life.\"\n\nHe held out a hand, wrapping the talons on his fingers around her own as she accepted. He didn't let go. He pulled her in. Tighter. Closer. Until their faces met and his tongue probed her flesh.\n\n\"I've waited so long for this my dear.\"\n\nShe didn't flinch or look away. Repulsion now was nothing to what was coming, but before he could penetrate her soul she looked him deep in the pits of his black eyes.\n\n\"You save her, and this town. Promise me.\"\n\n\"Why my dear girl.\"\n\n\"Promise me!\"\n\n\"I Beelzebub, promise to save the people of this town in return for your soul Joan Constantine.\"\n\n\"Let's dance,\" she said."
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[WP] The year is 2050. You pick your child up from Donald J. Trump High School.
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"\"Ted, what did you learn today?\" - I ask as we get into a car.\n\n\"Nothing\" - my son Ted wasn't a talker.\n\n\"It's November, not first day of class, you must have learned something.\"\n\n\"We had a test\", Ted turned his seat to look at the back of the car. I still remember cars that you had to operate, now that most cars are automatic the insides have been vastly improved. I changed seats to face him.\n\n\"And?\"\n\nTed turned off his virtual headphones, I finally got his full attention. \"Dad, I'm in 5'th grade, you get vims of what we learn, so you just want to know how I did? The test was on inter continental manufacturing - how to schedule shipping accounting for different timezones. We use GMT now for all shipping, so it's easier than it was in your day, and we had to list the differences. I think I did OK, but I didn't remember how back in early 00's you dealt with volatile currency, now that all currency is on an index, it's a lot easier.\"\n\n\"Do you like the school?\"\n\n\"Yes, I know dad, schools are not free anymore, and you have to pay a little extra on top of vouchers for it, it's good.\"\n\n\"It was a bit extra\", I thought to my self, some people sent their kids to schools were vouchers covered books, this one wasn't so affordable, but my little man was learning a lot. A lot more than I knew back in the day. The drive was short, school was just 5 minutes away although the cars drove quite fast and it was even hard to pick out individual trees when they joined the interstate train.\n\nTed ran out quickly from the car and into the house. I was still a sucker for old technology and had a manual lock on my car. I entered 2017 - the year Vice President Trump received Nobel Prize for education. \"Ted\" - what a funny name, little did hi or wife knew, but I named him after 'T' for Trump and 'D' for Donald. I hope my little guy becomes president.",
"Donald J. Trump High School. I shook my head, a little amused. It was Trump Day, April 19th. The air was clear, the sky blue. Students started pouring from the front door, but I knew John would be packing up his stuff. Left with just my thoughts and the hum of the Tesla, I drifted into nostalgia.\n\n\nI was 19 back when he was first elected. I didn't vote for him, of course. Heck, I couldn't decide which had been more disappointing; Trump being the GOP nominee or Sanders losing out to Clinton. Anyway, it had been a landslide, and a huge upset. A chauvinistic pig in office, one with a big mouth and lots of terrible ideas. He lived up to his word, and boy, did we hate it.\n\n\nAt least, that's how we felt in 2018. It's already hard to remember those days clearly. The anti-Trump years. But at the time, it was on everyone's minds. Three straight years of Trump pushing out his awful, discriminatory practices. The Border Wall was easily the biggest. Outrage swirled, but Pumpkin-Head didn't seem to care. He just kept going. The world's worst, most woman-hating-est freight train. \n\n\nWell, that's what we thought back then. \n\n\nBut how could we have known? \nHe wasn't keeping Mexico out, he was keeping *them* in. The Virus was specific, and efficient: it would only effect those inundated by the spore. We had to save the people we could before they got hooked on it, Trump's personal logs had read. Grove Day revealed the truth; it all finally made sense.\nHe knew about their plans, but he didn't go along with them. It was his destiny; the kind of thing only a man as thick-headed as him would've done. Instead of accepting the invitation, he chose to intercede. To do something good with himself, and burn the whole thing down. What could we have done? We didn't realize, but we'd made a joke out of something deadly, *deadly* serious.\n\n\nOf course, we didn't know that until the trigger went off. Those things lurched through city streets and suburban hedgerows, controlled by the Eye. They killed indiscriminately, and the death toll was devastating, but how much worse would it have been?\n\n\nI still remember watching, all the major news networks covering what we thought for sure was the apocalypse. \nMost joined the Illuminati to cement their status as influential and powerful. It was so much bigger than we ever guessed. Trump was what it took. Someone close to it, yet big-headed enough to decide he was better than all of them. But I guess he was right. \nHis bleached hair flapped ridiculously in the wind when the Eye entered its final death throes. But no one made fun anymore.\n \n\nDonald Trump saved the world.\n\nWe sure hadn't seen *that* one coming.\n\n\nI emerged from my thoughts and glanced out the window, spotting John hiking his book bag towards the car. As he passed under the enormous statue outside the school, it drew my eye to the plaque fixed to its pedestal. \n\n\"It's always good to be underestimated.\"\n\n\n\n\n",
"I had to suppress a tear as I rolled up to my son's sterling high school. Erected in the year 2016, it was a shining example of the progress of New America, founded under The Great Father. A hoard of smiling students came pouring out from the gilded gates of the establishment. I immediately spotted him through the thicket of suited up youths. His fashionable combover daringly waved in the wind. I stuck my hand out of the window and waved him. He stopped before the curb where I was parked and chuckled richly.\n\n\"Trumptations, father.\" \n\n\"Why, hello there, my dashing young man. Get in! I'll take you to Trump Mart for a new tie. You deserve it from all your dedication.\" I craned my head back to give him a wink as he settled down in the backseat of our modestly priced sedan - all thanks to the tax cuts that The Great Father had instated. \"How was your first day of high school, Donald?\"\n\n\"It was GREAT, father! I learned so much in every class. In history, I learned about the Great Father's humble beginnings in New York. He was only given one million dollars to amount to his fortune! Can you believe that?! In economics, I learned how to fashionably file for bankruptcy and continue with my head up. I also found out the only way to succeed in the real estate business to slap your name on every product you ever create.\"\n\n\"That's great, son. I'm so proud of you; only fourteen and learning more than your mother and I. I'm sure Donalda will also be quite ecstatic to learn about your achievements so far.\" I pulled away from Donald J. Trump High School and delicately fondled the radio dial until it was put on our favorite station: The Trump Hour. \n\nWe drove to Trump Mart in relative silence. The silence was welcomed, however, because it both gave us time to reflect on how great New America was and all it had to offer. The sun shined brightly in front of us, illuminating the freshly paved streets. I zoned into The Trump Hour and allowed it to consume my thoughts.\n\n\"Immigrants are terrible and we need to throw them back to Mexico,\" Donald J. Trump's disembodied voice resounded through the car's speakers. He was truly the visionary that America needed. \n\n This was painful to write. inkwrites.tumblr.com for more writing!"
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[WP] A "Truth Field" is invented, forcing all those within its beams to answer anything truthfully -and it is used in court rooms for decades. One day, a grassroots effort passes a law requiring Congress to work while in the beam and today is their first session...
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"\"Let me start out by saying, ladies and gentleman, we *need* this internet bill. It's crucial to pass, and it's crucial to the corporate donors...\"\n\nShe stopped. Let's try again. This didn't come out right.\n\n\"I mean, we owe it to the... corporate...\"\n\nHer head started to swing nervously, glancing at members of the congress. Best to skip that part and move on.\n\n\"The internet needs more regulation. It also needs extended intellectual property protection. The bill will help ensure this, and safeguard us in the information age.\"\n\nPhew. That was alright. Go on, she told herself. This will soon be done.\n\n\"These technology guards will protect our corporations...\"\n\nNo. Children. Children. Not corporations.\n\n\"Our... cor...\"\n\nChildren! \n\n\"Our... the little... young... when parents...\"\n\nThe rustling of paper. Flash lights by journalists who attended this first session under the new Truth Field laws. A lonely cough.\n\nShe knew she was stronger. Truth, what is it anyway? One person's lie is another one's belief. I need to believe.\n\n*I need to believe. If I believe it, it becomes my truth.*\n\n\"We need to pass this bill. For the protection of our... children.\"\n\nFrom that day onwards, congress stopped just fooling the public. They were now successful in also fooling themselves.",
"He had worked his whole life for this. It was the pinnacle of his career. Every since he was a kid, sneaking into courtrooms to watch testimony of the most infamous criminals of the 21st century, John had waited for the day he would control the Beam. \nBecoming a Beam Technician had taken ten years of college and another two of internship, but he had stuck it out. And now, another decade in; John was the lead on the first ever day of Honest Congress. \nHe had started the week on Cloud Nine.\nBut now, it appears, he is also about to be unemployed. \n\n\"John!\" His boss bellows, running up the stairs. \"John! CSPAN is dead air and wants to know why YOUR beam is failing to broadcast! Every congressional member has had a turn on the current ballot with the Beam and there hasn't been a single soundwave!\"\n\nJohn was doing all he could. He checked the parameters. He checked input and output on a dozen screens. He grabbed the manual, wildly flipping pages. Finally, he found and confirmed his fear.\n\n\"JOHN!\" \n\nOh man, what was he going to tell June? And the twins on the way? \n\nHe flashed back to his hardest day before this. A serial killer, nine years ago. When he spoke, there were so many thoughts that the speakers had a hard time discerning and separating them. The machine almost malfunctioned, but stayed true. Later research found the psychological attributes of the man to have an IQ of nearly 180 and a significant form of autism. John loved that day. \n\nThe door to the control room burst open. \n\n\"John! What in the hell is going on?!?!? CSPAN spent a fortune to get this bill passed and now they get airwave silence? John!\"\n\n\"Sir, I have checked and rechecked and the beam is solid sir. It's just...\"\n\n\"IT'S JUST WHAT JOHN?\"\n\n\"Well, it appears as though there isn't a wave length to pick up on sir.\"\n\nJohn's boss blinked rapidly, absorbing the information.\n \n\"John, are you trying to explain to tell me that we have a congressman on the stand that can avoid the system?\" \n\n\"Not exactly sir. See there was a study, many years ago. It was when the Beam was being looked at for private home use. With spouses and kids and stuff.\"\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"It's just, well it was found unethical sir. On behalf that children don't have the full mental capacity to understand the subtle difference between truth and lie. It not only wouldn't be fair to the kid sir. But the Beam would also take into account the intelligence of the individual. If they couldn't process thought, well, it wouldn't transmit anything.\" John prayed some more. \n\n\"So you are trying to tell me, that of the 535 members of Congress that we have interviewed, there isn't one significant finding? Not a single bit of insight as to why our government does the things it does? The very best we could get was one senator feeling guilty about sleeping with another's son! John, this is unbelievable. What am I supposed to tell CSPAN? What about the American public?\" \n\nJohn hesitated...\n\n\"Well, sir...I mean we are in the honesty business. We could, I don't know, tell them the truth? Maybe?\" \n\nHis boss, even more red, blew out a mouthful of air in an exasperated huff.\n\n\"Really John? You expect me to walk out there and tell God and Country that the men they have elected to protect them and represent then are not even smart enough to lie?!?! Really John? There isn't a single person out there that would ever believe it! Ever!\"\n\nHis boss flips out a phone and starts dialing.\n\n\"Get me a voice over crew and new Beam specialist immediately. Yes. You heard me. The current one has been let go. This is a full code situation.\" \n\nMy first prompt. Enjoy:)"
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Inspired by [this episode of Family Guy](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_Is_a_Bitch#Plot_summary), Death decides to take a day off. During this time, the laws of death no longer apply, everyone is immortal.
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[WP] Death takes a day off.
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"*Stage black. Sudden spotlight on DEATH on stage, facing away from audience. DEATH should be cloaked at this time from head to toe. Heavy breathing motion. Violin plays offstage.*\n\n**DEATH:** I was created to embrace pain and suffering. That was my design. Nothing else. No feelings, emotions, love, heart. Bullshit. Every single life. Every single dying moment I feel. And how do they repay me? By making me look like the bad guy. My holidays have nothing to do with me any more. I have to get round to every single fucking one of them, and every single one of them takes its toll on my mind.\n\nI'm sick of it. Trapped in my own head, my mind, every single fucking heart under my control. No one can understand the pain. But they will. They will know.\n\n*DEATH disappears in a flash of smoke. Can be done either by having him as just a robe to start off with, or a trapdoor. Spotlight turns off.*\n- - -\n\n*Sudden, harsh spotlight on stage right. TEENAGE GIRL sat on chair. Blood streams from open wound on arm. In visible anguish.*\n\n**TEENAGE GIRL:** (at the end of each sentence GIRL jolts head in a different direction, light flickers) Why won't you die? Why can't I fucking die? It's because you are too strong. No, you are weak and feeble. Then why can't I die? Because you are designed for greater things. No, you are designed for nothing, now finish the deed. No, I should be dead, why am I not fucking dead? The pain will set you free from your suffering eventually. I am fucking trapped. Well, isn't this fun then? No, it isn't, you're a fucking maniac. I am you after all. No you're not, you will never be me. It was me who did that to your arm, and it's you who's feeling it. I did that to my own arm to get away from you. You did that because of me? Why can I not make this stop? (Cries out in pain).\n\n*Spotlight turns off abruptly. Silence.*\n\n---\n\n*HOSTAGE strapped to chair gagged. MAN circles with knife. It is already very bloody.*\n\n**MAN:** Ooo, you are a one, aren't you? You really want to stay around for a bit. Taken a few beatings in your time? Daddy issues? Mother never around? A few smacked botties?\n\n(MAN plunges knife into HOSTAGE's neck.)\n\nHaving fun are we? The pain must be excruciating. Up and down the jugular. You can taste the blood in the air. I didn't want you to die. Oh, no. You're no use to me then. But now I find out you cannot die. Well, that's all the more fun, isn't it?\n\n*MAN raises knife over heart. Spotlight turns off.*\n\n---\n\n*Blue spotlight stage right. INMATE strapped into the executioner's chair. EXECUTIONER reads final rights silently. INMATE goes to speak, then doesn't. Fluid injected into arm. Strobe effect. INMATE goes limp, then pulls head up. EXECUTIONER looks at INMATE, then around. INMATE laughes uncontrollably, still inaudible for the audience.*\n\n---\n\nTBC. Probably.",
"It was a day unlike any other, not that anyone really noticed.\n\nFor 24 hours, the whole of humanity was immortal, but again, no one really noticed. \n\nSoldiers on battlefields too longer to die than usual, but most of them weren't even conscious at the time, so it went without comment.\n\nMen and women and children on their death beds got an extra day of pain and suffering, but no one had told them when that pain and suffering was due to conclude, so they didn't see that extra day as anything out of the ordinary.\n\nA group of college students who had got lost exploring underground caves and then got stranded when some rocks slid lingered in pain for several hours longer than it took for the limited supply of oxygen in the newly created tomb to run out. They'd long since succumbed to carbon dioxide poisoning and had passed out, so they paid no mind to the unorthodox extension of their lives.\n\nAll the while, on a sun baked hill, a being who goes by many names, but serves only a single function, relaxed and looked over the desert sands of Rub' al Khali while stretching out his limbs. Occasionally, he would get up, twirl his scythe around as he hummed to himself, set it aside and then lay back down.\n\nHe rather liked this new era. In ages past, it had been so difficult to get some time to himself. If a human should get run through with a sword and linger for even a few moments longer than his peers thought proper, there'd be all sorts of questions and myths surrounding the even. \n\nThese days, anything too strange or bizarre would be given a simple and direct explanation that involved a lot of learned men discussing freak occurrences, rare conditions and biological anomalies. He could take the odd hour or two off, sometimes even a whole day, and the world wouldn't bother to dwell on anything that happened outside the laws of nature, because they'd convinced themselves that nature was so much easier to understand. \n\nIf something was too bizarre for a natural and, above all else, *scientific* explanation, it was simply dismissed as having been incorrectly reported if not fabricated outright. This more recent quirk in human nature had been quite a relief back in May of 2012, when a necromancer in the southern US had gotten extremely lucky in the timing of his rituals and raised up one of the undead.\n\nIt wasn't often that he indulged himself like this, but it was nice to have the option so available. All this science, and reason and rationality was a quite handy thing, and he really hoped the trend would continue to grow."
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[WP] A Superhero is crippled for life.
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"I never really was much of a hero, if I think back on it. \n\n\nThey all had such high hopes for me, back in third grade when I first manifested. I thought I was going to BE someone, you know? Someone important. They say that the earlier a manifestation happens, the more powerful they tend to be. I was the youngest in my class, hell I was the youngest in the state when I found out what I could do. I was getting picked on, as usual, getting pounded into the ground by the local tough guy, when suddenly the punches stopped hurting. Turns out, under my bloodied sweatshirt, I had grown armored plates like outcroppings of bone. The bully nearly broke his hand...ha! And just like that, I was whisked away from all of my friends to go into \"special training.\"\n\n\nWhat a load of crap that was. For the first five months, all they did was study me. A Shifter, Class 3, with \"strong regeneration\". That is what they called me, once they were done with all of their needles and sample-taking...not that I ever missed anything they took. Everything healed within seconds. Even with all of their tests, they could not figure out where I was getting the extra mass from. All I knew was that I never ran out of muscle, got tired, or hurt for more than a few seconds at a time. And BOY, was I strong! \n\n\n...except, I really wasn't. I could make myself stronger, sure, but only as much as the strongest weightlifter. And I could be fast, as fast as Hussein Bolt if I wanted to be, but to get there I had to give up a ton of strength. If I tried to run all hulked out, I was simply too heavy...never mind the bone armor that I sometimes wore as my \"costume\". As if any supers needed a costume when we were all registered with the government within seconds of manifesting and put into a public database. And compared to some of those other supers, I was simply...average. Some of them can bench press TANKS. Others can run at mach 2 without even breaking a sweat...hell, there is even a guy up in New York who can do all of that *and* fly! Talk about winning the genetic lottery!\n\n\nAnd then, here *I* am. Only able to hold a thousand pounds, and run at 27 miles per hour or so. The only thing that I can do better than they can is heal. As if that is even relevant when you have your own personal force field like that New York guy. Him, he could save the entire world if he wanted to...and I would be lucky if I could save a small town. But hey, I have never been one to quit. So I did just that. \n\n\nOnce I finished basic powers training and school, I got myself a decent job with the local law enforcement as a \"specialized heavy weapon expert.\" I might not be much compared to the other supers, but compared to a normie I was pretty unstoppable. 300 pounds of armored, regenerating muscle was more than enough to subdue even the most violent meth head or bank robber. And I didn't need to be fast when I had my very own transportation in the form of a S.W.A.T. van. \n\n\nUntil, one day, the crooks came prepared for me. \n\n\n\n************\nTBC",
"I had it all. Wealth, fame, power. I was The Guardian, one of the most famous superheroes of all time. My ability made me near invincible. \n\nI was able to create small time fields where time ran faster or slower than normal. People thought had 'Super Speed' 'Enhanced Perception' 'Enhanced Senses' and other abilities due to my abilities.\n\nThen I made the stupidest mistake of my like. I fell in love.\n\nHer name was Jennifer. She was a barista at a local coffee shop. She was my best friend, and eventually, our relationship progressed further. That's when things fell apart.\n\nMy civilian identity was that of a photographer. Cliched, I know. My photographs of various heroes and villains made me a decent wage, but also more than a few enemies. One of the villains tracked me down, and threatened Jennifer.\n\nI snapped. I had to protect her, so I used my powers. That was my second mistake. Jennifer was not the woman I thought she was. She was another powered, but someone whose ability ad never had the conditions for activation met. As I used my powers, I felt them drain away, being absorbed by Jennifer.\n\nShe saved me, but I was broken, powerless. I had met the conditions for her powers. She was able to take the power of those she loved, if they loved her in return. \n\nShe carried me to the hospital. One of the doctors who had been keeping my secret identity told me that my powers had been keeping me young, and preventing injuries from worsening. I was crippled from the waist down, and there was no chance of recovery.\n\nSo now, three years later, I sit in my wheelchair, staring at a screen. Jennifer is fighting to protect the world from aliens in her guise as Krona, fighting alongside my former teammates.\n\nI will never be a hero again, but, as I look at my beautiful daughter, Aura, I don't regret my love for Jennifer for a second."
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[WP] You're in the military, serving in the middle east, the order comes down to execute order 66.
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"Poker never seemed to go my way anymore. Disgusted, I threw down my hand and took a smoke, losing myself in the sandy skies. I hate sand. Luck was like war; like love - they never fulfill the hopes and expectations, and they are fleeting in their climax. 20 years in the military... perhaps it was best I didn't know my parents. I wonder what they would think of these 'rapscallions', mindlessly devoted to bloodshed. I wonder what they would think about me.\n\n\"Sir, excuse me... uh...\" \n\n*Bloody hell, they don't stop asking questions do they? It's worse than that bulletstorm in Syria a few years back.*\n\nI glared at him - my only day off in the month, and he somehow managed to wander over to the general's camp? Apparently my death gaze had softened though, as he continued with only a brief stutter.\n\n\"I'm unfamiliar with the local protocol here, I just got transferred; I just received a direct order from uh you know Jon, is that it, Jon Turp? I haven't received the local booklet yet...\"\n\n*Fuck. A clueless freshie. Exactly what I wanted to see right now.*\n\n\"Donald Trump you fool, do you live under a rock? Show me the direct transcript.\"\n\n*It was brief, I'll give the guvs that; they usually waffle on for pages for direct orders like these. Wait, the fuck was Order #66? There were only meant to be 50 orders...*\n\nA crack rippled through the air. The freshie flinched and looked at me with fearful eyes. Fuckwit.\n\nGunshots.\n\nYelling.\n\nThe freshie, a pitiful, cowering mess, suddenly looked behind me; ah, it was one of my best troopers, the distinctive mottled blue and silver shoulder patch glinting in the dying light.\n\n\"Boy, the fuck is going on?\"\n\nWait, his safety was o-\n\nAt least there won't be any freshies where I'm going. They're lost and irritating and they somehow find you fucking everywhere. Not here, though. Here, the smooth patch of crimson red bloomed and blossomed, softened with a rich purple.\n\n---\n\nfirst WP, thoughts?",
"So I did what I always do when I execute order #66. I filled the general's plate with lobster, extra butter, and mashed potatoes. Working in the DFAC may be boring, but at least I wasn't choking on the fumes from burning diesel and human shit like the poor boots who were executing order #2."
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[WP] In a world where everyone gets a clock that counts down to the moment they die when they turn 18, your protagonist has just received their clock and it only has a year left.
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"When I first got it I couldn't stop looking at it. It was as if by looking into it I somehow could make my existence last longer. The clock might be confused for a glowing one because it is so shiny. Despite showing you the worst fate known to man it is actually quite a beautiful piece of work, It almost looked hand crafted. That would be something, a person dedicated to making clocks that tick all the way to impending doom.\n \nWhen I told my mother about it there was about a week of my mother locked in her room. She either thought it was soundproof or didn't care because she screamed and cried for what seemed like forever. I counted the hours that she actually got to sleep at most she got four. When she came out of the room for about a month she couldn't look at me without breaking into a sob. My father was out of the picture, he left when I was three years old. I can't imagine that he would react anything like my mother had, from what my mother told me he was an abusive drunk. I like to pretend that when I was a kid my father was there, but not as an overly physical and alcohol dependent idiot. As a middle-class worker, that works hard so we don't have to \n\nLife didn't change that much, I pretended that the clock didn't matter. Really it didn't because I would have died then clock or no clock. I stopped looking at the clock often after about two months. When I told my girlfriend about it she stayed her distance from me for about a week before she broke up with me. At least she had the decency to wait a little bit before she broke up with me. She told me it was because this wasn't a good time for her, but deep down I knew that it was because I was going to die in 10 months 4 days 6 hours 15 minutes and 47, 46, 45, 44 seconds until I died.\n\nI started to act differently at around the five month mark, I had realized I couldn't die until then so I acted very irrationally. I had taken up the hobby of jumping off of very tall objects like three-story buildings. I got hurt very bad when I did that, it may not have been my smartest move. I spent three months recovering in a hospital from that act of pure stupidity.\n\n*glances down*\n\n>read this next part kind of in a rush\n\nCrap! uhh I was very depressed after that, who wouldn't be if you find out you have four months to live. *finding out* like I didn't already know. I am still angry with myself after that. This next part will be hard for me to write because it was a difficult time for me. Four months right, most people would right their wrongs. Not me i decided to party, Party hard. That led to several hospital visits where they found out I had skin cancer. They gave me about four months to live.\n\nI started the whole pursuit for happiness at about the one month left mark. It led to me finding writing, I love writing. I had decided that I would be a writer. Now I didn't know the details of being a writer so I just wrote in my notebook, the same notebook I am writing in now. I decided to document my last moments of life I am sitting before my notebook now with 42 seconds left in my life. My time is slowly trickling down like the sand in an hourglass. 30. At least whenever I die I will die doing what I love, writing. 20. I now have 20 seconds left to live and for the first time in my life I am stricken with writers block. Oh here it is 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, If anyone finds this share it. Share it with the wo",
"Shock came first. (Doesn't it for everyone?) A lot of me asking a lot of questions, making sure that this was the right clock for me. Making sure that the numbers represented seconds and not years or hell, even minutes. Making sure it wasn't broken. Making sure it was really, truly, most definitely for me. It was a blur of white noise for a couple of weeks. I carried on like normal. Still went to uni, still taken up to my stupid minimum wage job. Still went out with friends. Probably said yes to a lot more things than usual though.\n\nAt some point I threw the clock away. Off a cliff face. Watched it bounce and break on rocks until it's helpless body hit the ocean. It came back the next day. Sitting right next to my bed. Shiny and new. The copper so polished, I used it as a mirror. The numbers of its paper face still slightly wet with ink. I destroyed it with an axe. That was therapeutic. Cursed at it. Swore at it. Broke it down into a million pathetic pieces (When the sweat and tears had finally dried, I counted them all.) Of course, it came back. I lit a bonfire next and watched it burn. Out in the woods, the crackle and pop noise that only fire makes, calmed me. The dancing haze of orange and smoke hypnotized me and I realised I had wasted another three days. \n\nThat was when I went and saw doctors and a therapist. The therapist was better than the doctors; they were of little help. Did every test under the sun and the moon and they all came back negative. Even my teenage hormones were normal. Fortunately no one thought I was crazy. That was at least one thing nice about having this god-damn stupid clock. They figured I'd probably die from an accident. That was a stupid suggestion. Didn't leave the house for a month. God bless my therapist. She was the one who finally talked some sense into me. I think I love her. (Don't look at me like that, you would too if you were dying.)\n\nShe finally convinced me to tell everyone. I wasn't saving them from the pain; I was giving them a chance to say goodbye. It was nice knowing that you are loved. More people should tell more people. They through me a funeral/birthday party on my last night. There was a lot of hugging, dancing, drinking. I was mostly fine with it all. I had tried very hard to get to the acceptance phase. And I think it mostly happened. Sleeping with my therapist that night was interesting, but I like that that will be our last memory together. I hope she did too.\n\nI snuck out early the next morning. Went back into the woods and watched the sun rise from atop a tree. On some days, it's comforting to know that life will go on without you. I was glad that today was one of those days. \n\nI still didn't know how I would die. The doctors had made sure it wasn't going to be from some illness. Still cancer free, and the last blood test just said I had had the common cold. Nothing else. Even my arteries were cholesterol free (not too much of a surprise given my age, but the doctors liked to be thorough). \n\nI saw the burning house and knew. I almost laughed. It was a stupidly heroic way to die. Of course I'd go into the house. Her screams wouldn't let me do otherwise. It was a shame that the pain would be a bitch, or maybe the smoke would get to me before then. Whatever. She wasn't meant to die then. ",
"Finally! I had turned eighteen, and\nnow I had my freedom and my rights.\n\nAnd when I expected it the least,\nI also got the lion's share of fright.\n\n\nWhen I got my clock, nay,\nmy *stopwatch*, I was dumbfounded.\n\nI felt like sheep, eating poisoned hay.\nOh! my life was confounded!\n\n\nI wept and wept and later I realized,\nI couldn't stay that way for the final year of my life.\n\nI decided to tell no one, not even my family,\nas I didn't want them to be plagued by misery.\n\n\nI lived that year fully,\ndoing the best of deeds and having the best of bread.\n\nAnd when my time came, I duly\nand silently departed with death."
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[WP] In the first Galactic War, Earth and it's colony planets decided to stay neutral. But then....
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"\"Harbour.\"\n\n\"Harbour?\" Daniel looked at his clipboard, scrolling through the shipping log for the day but honestly he had no idea what he was looking for. The Eion before him turned to converse with the others behind it.\n\n\"Amnesty?\" it finally said.\n\n\"Ah.\"\n\n\"Is that the right word? Your language is difficult to remember. The Noxt annihilated most words. Annihilated? Banned.\"\n\n\"I don't think I have permission to grant you amnesty. I'll have to call my supervisor.\"\n\n\"And then will be romancing?\"\n\nDaniels' face turned beetroot red.\n\n\"Safe, sorry,\" the Eion said.",
"The last stand of man happened on a small planet two-thousand light years away from Earth. Despite their attempt at neutrality, the Galactic War was catching up to them, and they were desperate. They had all thought this new planet would be their salvation. Starships carried the last of humanity into the cosmos, looking for a place to call home. It took decades, and by the time they finally arrived, most who had embarked on the journey had long been dead. It was their children who finally found their way to the planet. Despite its unforgiving environment, many thought the new planet to be a blessing. And for a time, they were right. They settled down, built their homes, and learned to grow food and sustain themselves. They were worn thin and they were exhausted, but they were alive.\n\nThat was, until the War finally caught up with them, and the Voidbringer came. It came without warning. Nobody knew if it had been there all along, or if it appeared on the planet after they arrived, but the answer didn’t matter. Every man, woman, and child had been drug kicking and screaming into the night until there was nobody left to scream, and nobody left to remember them after they were gone. Except for one. For anyone that knew him, his survival wouldn’t be surprising. Most knew him as The Millennial, but with nobody left to remember his moniker, he felt it was silly to call himself anything at all. His body had been pulled apart and rebuilt so many times over the centuries, he didn’t remember what he had once looked like. He was now more machine than man, his memories the only thing tying him to his past.\n\nThe Millennial stood on a ridge, looking down on the once lively colony below. It looked peaceful, and untouched from this vantage, as if people would burst from their homes at any moment to continue with their daily chores. With a soft sigh, he reached his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a small box. He opened it, revealing a single cigarette. He smiled to himself slightly, realizing this would be the last cigarette ever smoke in the history of the universe.\n\nPlacing it between his lips, he held up a slender metallic finger, and a small flame ignited from the end of it. Lighting his cigarette and extinguishing the flame, the Millennial took a long, slow draw. He held in the smoke for a moment, and exhaled. To him, it seemed like the weight of the world left his shoulders in that instant. All those who died, all those years spent trying to survive, none of it mattered anymore. As the smoke blew away in the wind, he spotted what he was looking for. On the horizon, beyond the colony on a small hill, he saw movement. It was fast. Unbelievably fast. The Voidbringer moved like liquid, flowing and twisting through the air. The Millennial stood still as he watched the creature raced towards him, taking another long draw from his cigarette. It was almost upon him. It would be over soon.\n\nThe Voidbringer tore past dirt, rocks, and weeds, leaving a trail of debris in its wake. As it approached, a guttural sound emanated from it’s belly, a growl that sounded as if sucked all other sound into it. The air around The Millennial grew still, and the deep, rumbling growl of the Voidbringer reverberated through his body. The Millennial didn’t know how to describe the sound, but it was a sensation that was felt, not heard. He lifted the cigarette the his lips once more, as the Voidbringer leapt high into the air, and crashed down on--nothing.\n\nThe creature stopped, looking at the spot the Millennial had just stood. The Voidbringer lifted it’s head, sniffing the air with a deep, rattling breath. All was still, nothing but the eerie sound of the Voidbringer filling the air. With a rush, the air atop the ridge burst back to life, almost deafening after the immeasurable silence. The Voidbringer recoiled in shock as the Millennial came down on its head, driving his knee into the Voidbringer’s back. The creature roared in anger and pain, sweeping at the air with long, clawed arms, but the blow didn’t connect. The Millennial landed on the ground in front of the Voidbringer, and both stared at each other for a moment, waiting for the to make the first move, a thin trail of smoke rising from the end of the last cigarette in existence.\n\nWith a terrifying burst of speed the Voidbringer charged, but the Millennial was ready, and began racing towards the creature. The Voidbringer swept a long claw towards him, and the Millennial went to his knees, leaning backwards and sliding forward as the claw rustled his hair as it slashed the air directly above him. His slide bringing him to a stop below the creature, the Millennial thrust his fist into the soft underbelly of the Voidbringer.\n\nThe creature scrambled backward, hissing in pain. The Millennial stood, smiling, He could tell the creature wasn’t used to feeling pain, and only knew how to cause it. Now was his chance. He crouched down, and leapt high into the air. As he expected, the Voidbringer regained his composure and leapt up to meet him in the air. Just before they connected, he twisted in the air, and was gone. The creature once again slashed at empty air, confused. Angry. Landing, the Voidbringer spun around to see the Millennial rushing towards it. Opening his mouth wide and revealing several rows of needle-sharp teeth, the Voidbringer brought its head down to meet the man’s charge. At the last second, the Voidbringer swept its tail around, catching the Millennial off-guard. The tailed smashed into the man’s side, and he flew through the air, hitting the ground hard and tumbling head over heels several times.\n\nHe recovered quickly, using the momentum of his roll to leap to his feet. He prepared to charge the beast again, but stopped. Something was wrong. Looking down, he noticed his half-burned cigarette sitting on the ground, crushed from the blow he’d just been dealt. Anger swelled through the Millennial’s body, his calm composure now replaced with rage.\n\nTurning back to the creature, the Millennial’s gaze would have been enough to stop any man in his tracks. But The Voidbringer has no man, and charge towards the Millennial once again. With speed to match, the man charged towards the creature with a scream.\n\nThe Millennial roared, and leaping up at the last second, dealt a bone-crushing kick to the Voidbringer’s jaw. Teeth and blood spilled from the creatures mouth as it screamed in pain. Before it could recover, the Millennial rolls under the Voidbringer’s wildly flailing claws, and once again punched up through the creature’s soft under belly. Once, twice, three times. Blood poured out of the creatures wounds, splashing the grey rock under it with a brilliant orange.\n\nThe Voidbringer roared, and fell, just as the Millennial leapt out of the way. There was silence. The man stood over the body of the Voidbringer, which twitched slightly, and went still.\n\nHe walked back to where he had dropped his cigarette, and picked it up off the ground. Doing his best to bend it back into shape, he placed it back on his lips, and lit it once more. Drawing in the last puff of the last cigarette in the universe, the Millennial closed his eyes, savoring the smell and taste.\n\nNothing could be heard but the soft, cold wind blowing over the ridge, carrying with it the reminder that the Millennial was alone. With the Voidbringer dead, he didn’t even have death to look forward to anymore.\n\nAnd so he stood, not fully human, but enough of one to realize that all memories of all of humanity lived only in his head, and all else about his once great civilization was lost in time. Cigarette burned through, the Millennial tossed it to the ground, looked around, and walked off, beginning his journey to nowhere.\n\nAuthor's Note: I feel like I got a little off-topic here, but this was my first attempt at a writing prompt. Sorry if the action was a little boring--I've been reading a lot of Branden Sanderson lately (as I'm sure some of you noticed from my direct rip-off of the \"Voidbringer\" name), and I love how he writes action, so I was drawn to something like that. Either way...congrats to anyone who actually read this whole thing. :)\n\nEdit: The formatting seems to be off on my computer, but the \"edit\" window shows proper formatting, so...if anyone knows how to fix that, let me know!\n\nEdit 2: Think I fixed the formatting!"
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[WP] Each person's life is tied to a part of nature. Describe pollution.
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"A world of murky color smears into view through my blinking eyes. Stinging eyes. Tired eyes. I scrub them mercilessly with my cracked, dry palms until my face reddens. It burns. I cast off the dreary blue and black sheets that blanketed me and rest uneasily on the edge of the bed. There is a heavy weight in my chest. I cough as my frame rattles with the sound of broken glass and rusted metal. It feels as though my throat has been shredded by a violent windstorm in the midst of a junk yard. I try to crack a smile at my own misfortune only to feel an aciculate pain in my jaw.\n\nWhile one hand massages my aching jaw, the other reaches into my mouth to find the culprit. I gingerly tap around each tooth until a blinding pain brings me to my knees. It's a rotten tooth. I grumble to myself as I stumble into the bathroom to take a closer look in the mirror. The person staring back at me bears no resemblance to anyone that I know. Even those visions have started to fade. Once bright memories and footage in my head has become sullied by smoke and grime. I wasn't always this way and it only seems to be getting worse. I've lost any desire to leave the house. I rarely even leave this floor. I've even thought of just staying in bed. If I'm asleep, the pain never seems to come.\n\n“I'm pathetic,” I think to myself, looking at the haggard man with reddened, bloodshot eyes mired in deep violet crescents. The frown filled with cracks, some of which are bleeding. Stubble that has become whitewashed in the past year. My hair in tatters, dangling just on the edge of sight. “What are you doing to yourself? What is this all about? Do you even know?”\n\nNo response. The answers were fewer and further between nowadays as my brain drooped along. I couldn't even be bothered to hold a conversation with myself. Not that I ever enjoyed the other half. All I wanted was something to come in and cut the discordant sounds of my internal silence. Some times it was an ear-splitting ringing like an alarm at my bedside. Other times it was a churning, whirring crunch like the trees being processed. Then there was the tinny banging like hammers on metal. The crackling of fire. And there were noises that I couldn't even describe. Those were the ones that bothered me most. The ones that took away my concentration, spent what little mind I had left on deciphering them. It was too much.\n\nI stepped into the shower as the water pelted me. With a slight turn, it was too hot and with another it was too cold. It fell like needles on my skin as I cringed and grimaced. My bones creaked and groaned as I fidgeted beneath the flow. My shower was short, but it felt as though it had lasted a lifetime. Every minute that I spent awake was a minute of torture. I had no love for this misery and woe. Yet, I couldn't find it within myself to overcome it. I wanted to turn a blind eye to it, ignore that it existed at all.\n\n“It was going to happen anyway, what could I do?” I reasoned with myself.\n\nI landed on my bed with a dull thud and a wince. Pulling the covers up to my neck, I settled down for another sleep. As I drifted off, I realized that I didn't even know what day it was, what month I was in, or even the time of day. My remaining faculties slipped away as my eyes shut. It all struck me as funny, in some sad, twisted way. I felt sorry for myself and with that pity came a feeling of warmth. With that warmth I fell soundly asleep.\n\n-316",
"Mine and my families lives are connected to the elephant. This has brought us great wealth for many years, but now both our species are almost completely gone. My mother cries at night praying that our family could have been tied to oak trees like our neighbors.\n\n\nNumber 20087 died yesterday. He was a male elephant that was Soul Bonded to my uncle Orlando's life. We had a joint funeral, even though 20087's body was not with us. It was another poaching. We have invested all of our money into protecting our Soul Bonded, but even with all of the cameras and hired guns to kill those who threaten our lives, poachers are still able to kill us.\n\n\nI am linked with a adolescent elephant named 20093. She was another born without tusks. They are evolving to be born without tusks which I am both greatful for and afraid of. We need tusks to find food, but without them there is no ivory to harvest. On us, however, having no tusks on our Soul Bonded means that we are weaker and less able to protect and feed ourselves. It's very hard because my mother, Soul Bonded to the great 20086, has to provide completely for the younger generation. I fear we will die out when she does. 20093 and I have never met face to face. Those Soul Bonded to specific animals on separate continents do not have the luxury of being able to live with the Soul Bonded like those who are able to have their oak tree in the front yard. This makes our lives more unpredictable. If one of our elephants were to fall and break a leg there is nothing we would be able to do because we are so far away and dwindling in power.\n\n\n\nThere is a genocide going on. It's rarely on the news. Those who bond to the amazonian trees and beasts are dropping as quickly as those who are Bonded to insects. I wonder why those who also have genocides do not team together. We know that there are sacrifices that need to be made to ensure that we all may live together in safety, but it seems wrong to me. I don't like watching people die.",
"We can't help what we're born into. That never stopped them from punishing us for it however. My great-grandfather, you see, was an architect. He was offered the chance to convert during the Reclamation, but his son was not so lucky. The told my great-grandfather he would not be tried for his \"crimes\" if he testified against my grandfather. The man was willing to lose the family business, but not his family.\n\nAnd so they both were sent to the fields.\n\nMother was more pragmatic. She hid our heritage from the world, but not behind closed doors; not from me or Father. Sometimes in the evenings, when the was still high enough in the horizon, when there was enough light, she would point to the ruins in the distance. She would tell me how she was there. She remembers the days when cities were built from the ground up with concrete and steel. I was always awestruck at the thought that perhaps one of my relatives, one of my ancestors, could have built those skyscrapers. I like to picture them lit up, every window on every story shining so bright that they drown out the stars, taking their place here on Earth.\n\nOf course, I've seen actual pictures, but images on a tablet screen just doesn't seem to do it justice. Most of what they show us in school is the bad stuff anyway; smog, dead animals, villages destroyed in conflict, over oil of course. All of this was remedied when we realized that the industrialists were actually a minority. Once they were deposed, people were free to live out their true affinities. CAFOs became fields, cubicles became terraces, and *the seed of a new era was planted. Blah blah blah.*\n\nI don't buy it.\n\nSuddenly everyone who invested in renewable energy was a child of the sun? Every office worker was actually a natural born hunter and/or gatherer?\n\nI suppose if I follow through with my plans, I'll just be proving them right, but I have to know. I have to know what it's like to fall asleep to the sound of car engines and sirens instead of the chirping of birds and the howling of wolves. I need to know what it's like to build something instead of just watching it grow. I know that when I look at an oak tree, I should see perfection, but I only see potential. I see timber and nails. I see the the smoke from a mason's cigar after a hard days work. I miss the days that ended long before I was born. My whole life I've been taught to give back, but I've never taken anything. I see that oak, and I think it's been long enough. It's time.\n\nMy axe is ready."
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[WP] A nervous, new stand-up comedian prepares material for his first-ever set at Mos Eisley Cantina.
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"Thank you very much, thank you very much. Let's hear it for the band! I'm hoping they'll play that song again later. Can't get enough of that one. Hey, it's great to be here in Mos Eisley. Great town, great town. If you like sand and getting your arms cut off!\n\nI'm just kidding, I'm just kidding. Great town. Funny thing happened to me. Funny thing. I was coming into town and I heard this noise. Funny noise. \"Eeeeeiiiiiiiigggghhhhh, ur ur ur.\" And I'm thinking to myself, you know, as you do, you know, 'what's up with that?'\n\nNext thing I know, there's sand people all over. And I mean, *all over.* They're dragging me out of my speeder, and I'm scared, you know, so I scream. I'm all like, \"Aaaaaaaarrrrghhh!\" and they run away! Can you believe that? I mean, are these guys easily startled, or what?\n\nThey came back, though. They came back. In greater numbers, too. Fucked the shit out of me.\n\nIs this thing on?\n\nSo I've been touring for a while, and, see, the only good thing about touring is the nightlife. So I get to Tattooine, looking to go to a couple of clubs, you know, and... you know y'all got *two* suns? I mean how long is a fuckin' day here? I've been here - for *weeks* - I'm sunburnt to shit, and I haven't seen *one* nightclub yet. How do you stand it?\n\nThis guy over here knows what I'm talking about, right? Hairy motherfu-\n\nNo, no. No. I'm... no. I was just... the heat, you know, and the... no.\n\nHey, how about them Jawas, eh? Ever bought anything from a Jawa, have you? I bought an R2 unit the other day. Don't really know what they're for, you know. They can't carry anything, they can't communicate with you. I hear they're good at opening doors, but I got keys for that, generally. But they seem to be popular, so I'm all like, fuck it, I'll get an R2 unit. So I go to these Jawas, and I'm trying to haggle with them, you know. Wanna good price. So I'm all, \"twenty\".\n\nThe little dude goes, \"Ooootidi!\"\n\nAnd I mean, yeah, what's that? What does that mean? So I flash him ten fingers, twice, and he's \"eeechikawa!\". Is that good? Am I doing well?\n\nLet me tell you. I'm not. Do you know why? Because you can't negotiate with a Jawa. Lemme tell you. Best poker face in the galaxy. In the *galaxy.* Just two little glowing eyes in a hood. How you gonna know if they guy's holding? How you gonna know if a Jawa's got the upper hand? Guy looks like an oncoming speeder at night - not that I'd know what that looks like here, you guys and your two fucking suns. Oncoming traffic. That's a Jawa negotiation there.\n\nWell, it's been great. Remember to tip your waitress. Goodnight, everybody!",
"da duh da dah da dah da dah dahda-dahda-da-da\n\nda duh da dah da dah da dah dahda-dahda-da-da ♫\n\nThat fucking tune is driving me nuts. I aint heard a degenerate flock of Biths this bad since I was scrounging for work last rotation back on Clak'dor. Mos Eisley used to have the greatest talent this side of the Galaxy. Now since the Huts took over we get nothing but flat Kloo Horn blowers and off beat Ommni Box tramps. \n\n\"Focus.\"\n\nHis fourth joints tighten as the saturation of his burgundy scales intensify, the telltale sign of stress most visible with the Q'hlai people from the South quadrant of Epch'tog as he was born and raised. Darker his coatings show with the sound of each rusty Fanfar from the stage only a hallway down.\n\nJyi takes a deep breath and the distorted trumpet noises fade into the distance. Q'hlai might be easily frazzled but their culture teaches from a young age how to convert stress into wit and, in time, humor. Even with the memories of the irreparable damage the Empire did to the Epch'tog burned into his memory forever, Jyi survives. The white armored robotic demon hordes have more blasters than a DeathStar but Jyi's people weild a weapon far more dangerous- purpose.\n\nAs he finishes rehearsing his lines, his scales lighten back up to their resting state and a smile washes over his fanged mug. He is ready.\n\n\"Scruffy nerd-herders and broken-blaster Devaronian, we bring to you, from 15 lighyears ways, the amazing Q'hlai.... JYI!!!!!\"\n\nHe walks through the curtains with confidence now in full character.\n\n\"Thank you very much, thank you very much. Let's hear it for the band!\"\n\n(sorry, I know its not impressive, probably the first time Ive ever written fiction)"
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Let's see how well you guys can do!
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[WP] The Kardashians are actually a mob family, and use their media power to divert attention from their criminal activities.
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"\"Kim, how's your business going\"? Caitlyn asked Kim.\n\"Both of them were inside the Kardashian house drinking coffee. As Kim was about to answer, she took a huge gulp from her mug. While putting the cup down, the hotness of the coffee produced some steam which rose towards her face and kissed her. \n\"Profits are at an all time high fath- i mean mother?\" Kim was still confused in regarding her Bruce's gender swap.\n\"My slaves that i obtain from Mexico are hard workers\". She explained to her father how her clothing stores materials are run by kids who were kidnapped from their families. By working them to death, she could get richer and when she is low on workers, she can buy more from the Mexican cartels.\n\"If one of my workers escape, i send out a corrupt policeman to take him/her out\".\nKim knew her family controlled the US. In fame and in power, the is no one who can stop her. Sooner or later, she will have to turn on her family. Killing every Kardashian in order to secure the power towards her husband Kanye West. For he is the one who is pulling the strings. (first time, hope y'all like it!)\n",
"\"Bruce sit down. We have a problem.\" \n\nBruce uneasily sat in the chair \"Kim what's wrong? How's the family business?\" \n\n\"Dont you worry your pretty head about my business Bruce. But Bruce its time to pay me the debt you owe.\" Kim snapped\n\n\"Kim I... I still don't have the money...\"\n\nA smile crept across her face \"I know Bruce. Listen something big went down and we can't let the public see what's happening. So you're going to do something so big the whole country is going to lose their mind over it.\"\n\n\"But I thought the wedding with Kayne...\"\n\n\"DAMMIT BRUCE!! I make the decisions here!! We have a problem and you're going to fix it!!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry Kim I meant no disrespect\"\n\n\"You're forgiven. Anyway how do you feel about Vaginas Bruce?\"\n\n\"Well I love them to be honest. They have brought me great pleasure throughout my life!\"\n\n\"Well I'm glad to hear that... Caitlyn.\""
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[WP] You become the master of fate after getting a fortune cookie with no fortune in it.
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"I once got a fortune that said \"Please Try Again\". So I went to go grab another one from the counter when a short old asian lady quickly yelled at me \"only 1\". I showed her my fortune, She laughed, went to the back and came back with a weird little tannish golden box with some Chinese writing on it. She told me not to open it, but I am a little curious to what is in it. It is like one of those weird puzzles that only opens and closes one way. What should I do?",
"It's snowing. \n\n You could stop it\n Probably\n\nBut you don't.\n\nYou look up four floors, left twenty-seven. You see the window. You know she's in there somewhere, but it's just dim glass from here, the lights of the city night, mirrored strangely. \n\n Maybe that's how the city really looks.\n\nShe's in the room, but you can't see her from the street. The girl whose name you can't recall. Already there are very few names you can recall. Names mean little to you now. \n \n You blink.\n\nYou're in the hospital. Four floors up and twenty-seven left. Standing outside her room. She's in there laying on the bed. The girl who once knew you. She looks up and sees you. Smiles but it's all in her eyes, her mouth and face too weak to grin. Cables running from her arms and tubes connected to her nose, she waves. \n\nYou raise a hand. You remember this. You wave back. \n\n You \n blink.\nYou are beside her bed. She asks you how you did that, how you were in one place and then moved to another without moving. Coughs. You tell her it's too simple to explain. You didn't move, you just made it so that you were always going to be there in that place at that particular moment. And so you were.\n\nShe blinks, nods slightly. Accept it as only the mind of a dying twelve-year-old girl can. She calls you something, a name. You used to go by it. Something inside you flutters. \n That probably won't happen again. \nYou kneel down beside her. There're untouched glitter pens and colouring books on her bedside table. \n\nYou reach into your pocket and take out the strip of paper. The blank fortune from your cookie. Your half scrawled words from earlier today are still there. You look at them with stranger's eyes. How petty it had been. The thing you wished to alter, to come to pass. \n\n So much had happened since then. \n \n So little.\n\nYou take a glitter pen. Blue. And cross out the half-sentence you had written. \n Then you write. \n You write that she lives happily ever after. \n\nThen you slip the paper into her hand. Her new fortune. Her new fate. Your decree as god of destiny. \n \n\n T hen\n yu o\n bl i n k\n\nYou do not stay to watch the colour return to her.\n \nYou do not stay to watch her smile and wake from what she think is just a dream. Do not stay to watch the doctors puzzle over where her illness went away to, wonder how she lived through the night. You do not stay to see her grow and question where you went. You do not stay for the girl whose name you can't recall. You do not stay to remember your own. \n\nYou just blink and then\n\n\n\n\n y ou 'r e \n\n g o n e ",
"\"So? What does it say?\" she giggled.\n\nCassie leaned across the table to peak over at Jason's fortune.\n\n\"Ugh, hey! I'll have you know you're violating my privacy,\" Jason teased, pulling the fortune closer to him.\n\n\"Oh, really?\" Cassie laughed.\n\n\"Uh-huh. At this rate, I might have to file a restraining order. No closer than 10 feet, woman!\" The grin on Jason's face just grew wider, as Cassie's face turned into mock indignation.\n\n\"Hm! Fine, see if I care,\" she huffed, crossing her arms and pointing her nose in the air.\n\n*Okay, let's see here.*\n\n\"That's odd.\"\n\n\"What does it say?\"\n\n\"It's blank.\" Jason turned the fortune cookie so she could see. \"Here, look.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you're right.\" Cassie leaned in to take a closer look. She then turned to her purse and after a few seconds of rummaging, she took out a pen and gave it to Jason.\n\n\"Here. Why not make your own fortune?\" she smiled.\n\n\"Hmm, good idea. I just might not knock off a few feet from that restraining order.\"\n\nJason took the pen and looked at the empty slip of paper. He thought for a moment and scribbled something down.\n\nThere was a commotion in the street outside the little bistro that Cassie and Jason were having their date. It wasn't really clear what happened, but a man ran onto the road as a truck was hurtling down the street.\n\n\"What the hell?\" Jason looked up from the fortune , startled by the sound of screeching tires and a loud horn, to see a pair of headlights hurtling towards him and Cassie. He turned to look at Cassie, a soundless yell escaping from his mouth before everything turned into pitch black darkness.\n\n\"Helloooo? Earth to Jason?\" Jason looked down to see Cassie staring at him, waving her hand in front of his face. He looked around and saw the apartment building where he picked Cassie up. He was leaning on the front side of his car with Cassie standing right in front of him.\n\n\"Jeez, you looked like a dear caught in headlights there for a second. I just asked you if you wanted to get some coffee, not marry me,\" she smiled.\n\n\"Oh, no. Sorry. I just-... yeah, yeah! I wouldn't mind a cup of coffee.\"\n\nCassie just shaked her head and started climbing the stairs to the apartment door. Jason followed behind and noticed his hands were in his pockets.\n\nHe pulled out his hands and saw the fortune cookie from the bistro. Except it wasn't empty. Two seconds after he read his handwriting, the ink disappeared leaving the fortune cookie blank again.\n\n*Cassie will invite me up for coffee.*",
"The shift was running on late, like always. They wouldn’t get paid overtime. Guo Xiuying sighed and thought of his little daughter. She’d insist on waiting for him before starting the evening meal. He glanced down. Three pale brown circles had gone past on the machine. He grabbed the nearest two and hastily inserted the paper rectangles, folding the dough smoothly and skillfully over the bar and returning them to the conveyor. Only one had made it past - they wouldn’t notice that. His hands returned to their practiced movements.\n\n*Are you crazy? With Hayley about to start college? This is not the time, Robert.*\n\n*I’m telling you, if I don’t do something soon…*\n\n*You think it’s easy for me? I know you don’t like it, honey, but think of us, the kids. We need you. I need you. Please don’t quit your job.*\n\nIt dropped into a small plastic wrapper, instantly vacuum sealed behind it, and drifted a few more feet down the conveyor and into a big tub of - outwardly - identical foodstuffs. When the tub was full, someone came along and pushed them into large cardboard boxes.\n\n*Bob, how are you?*\n\n*What do you want, Connie?*\n\n*Just wondering if you’d managed to take a look at the E-Com files.*\n\n*They’re on my list.*\n\n*The VP needs them on his desk by tomorrow morning.*\n\n*You’re kidding! You told me J-Com was the priority. I’ve been working my ass off!*\n\n*I appreciate it, Robert, we all know how hard you work.*\n\n*Great, another evening gone. I’ll do the fucking files.*\n\n*Thanks Bob.*\n\nMuscled arms manoevered the box into the back of a gigantic lorry parked like an otherworldly obelisk in the bleak and crumbling loading bay. It nestled, unconcerned, among the tessellated legions of its peers.\n\n*That’s amazing, sweetie! Have you made any friends yet? How’s that girl in your room? She seemed nice.*\n\n*Yeah she’s fine dad, everyone here is great.*\n\n*And you remembered to speak to the people in the office about the bursary sch-*\n\n*Yes dad, it’s all taken care of. You don’t need to worry about me.*\n\n*Of course not, my love. We’ll be calling every day though, until you’re settled in.*\n\n*Fine. OK, got to go. Love you!*\n\n*Love y-... She hung up.*\n\nThe truck covered the miles like God’s slow paintbrush through the wondrous landscapes. Every few hours they would stop to refuel both the tank and the human. But it needed no sustenance.\n\n*I finally signed up for those night classes I was talking about.*\n\n*What night classes?*\n\n*To learn Mandarin, remember?*\n\n*Oh yeah, that’s nice, Robert.*\n\n*I think it’s going to be great for me, I’ll finally be putting my time into something worthwhile.*\n\n*Of course, darling.*\n\n*It’s just once a week to start with, every Thursday, but I’m hoping-*\n\n*You can’t go this Thursday.*\n\n*What?*\n\n*We’ve got the Harrison’s do, I told you.*\n\n*Oh come on, I don’t need to go to that!*\n\n*You absolutely do. They’re expecting us. And we’ve got Jason’s open evening the week after. You’ll have to postpone the Mandarin for a while, I’m afraid.*\n\nThe engine whined and clanked as it cooled after its long trip. Another loading bay, another set of arms hoisting it away to new vistas.\n\n*Yeah, I can’t get anything done either. I come home and stare at the TV and hope no one bothers me, that’s the best I’ve come to expect. Although I can’t say I understand why you’re so crazy about this Chinese stuff all of a sudden. Hey, two more Buds over here.*\n\n*China is the future! It’s where things are actually happening. Think about it, Jim. If we could speak Chinese, what would be stopping us from going over there tomorrow and starting something new? Something we could really give a shit about?*\n\n*Well Denise and Kimberley for a start.*\n\n*Oh for fuck’s sake. Kimberley would come around. She’s got to see what this fucking job is doing to me.*\n\n*Heh. Keep dreaming, Bob. She’s the same as Denise, no offence. They’ve got their little slice of suburban paradise. There ain’t nothing in heaven or hell that’ll get em off it now.*\n\nThe brutal edge of the scissors’ blade carved remorselessly through the box’s tape, and light poured down on it like manna from above. A hand took the plunge, emerging with a fistfull only to deposit again on a crudely printed paper slip atop simple white porcelain.\n\n*Honey, what are we doing on Saturday?*\n\n*Nothing I can think of, Robert.*\n\n*What d’you say we go down to the Golden Dragon, for old time’s sake? Just you and me. One of the sitters can take Jason. We can have a proper meal and a chat, we haven’t done that in ages!*\n\n*...I suppose we could do that, Robert.*\n\n*Amazing, thanks honey. You’re the best.*\n\nAnother hand sailed unmoving between tables, conveying it with expeditious footsteps. The plate alighted gently and the footsteps continued briskly away.\n\n*I’ll get it, dear. You want your cookie? Your loss. Let’s see, what is my unquestionable, God-given destiny today? It says- huh. There’s...there’s nothing here. There’s nothing in my cookie. Honey! There’s NOTHING IN MY COOKIE! No paper, no fortune! OK, I’ve got to do this. Listen, I’ve got something really important to ask you, and you’re going to hate it but I want you - no, I need you to at least consider it. Just listen:*\n\nXiuying opened his thin, wobbly front door and heard the familiar patter of his child’s feet running to hug him. Every day, after everything, it was always worth it for this. Even if his life never made a difference to anyone else, it was worth it.\n\n***NB: Everything I know about making fortune cookies comes from visiting this place: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQ4IdQ0uB9o (the end of the video is where it actually happens).",
"I never thought an order of spring rolls would change my life.\n\nBut to be fair, they were really good spring rolls.\n\nAs I walked away from the Yellow Dragon Chinese Food Restaurant, crumpling my grease-stained pouch, I thought about Carly. She was the one who first introduced me to the Yellow Dragon. We had broken up almost a year ago (ten months, actually). Every time I thought that I was over her, I found something that reminded me of her, something that was old and new at the same time. I sighed as I mashed the crosswalk button with my elbow. Red hand, do not walk, wait your turn. I looked at the people waiting with me as I unwrapped my fortune cookie. A tired mom with two kids, one in a stroller. Guy from Best Buy who just got off work. Gay couple, holding hands and talking and laughing.\n\nI don't know why, but I felt bad for the couple. I had this impending sense that they were in for a rough time together. Maybe I was projecting. Maybe I was being intrusive. Maybe I was a wizard and they actually were about to hit a rough patch. I laughed at the thought of me in wizard robes as I glanced at my slip of paper from the cookie. My lucky number were apparently 5 11 25 26 77. I flipped it. All it said was that the word for \"pathway\" was \"路\".\n\nThat was weird. I turned the paper over several times to be sure. \"There's no fortune...\" I whispered to myself. As I said it, a blast of steam came from a nearby grate, carrying my non-fortune into the night. I started coughing and hacking. Carly used to carry my emergency inhaler. The mom pulled her toddler close, not wanting him to catch a cold.\n\nAs my fit ended, I looked up at the crossing light, tears in my eyes. No red hand. No white man. No numbers, even. It was just blank. The small entourage of people on the corner started to mumble to each other.\n\nIt was at that moment I just kinda said fuck everything to myself. Cars were still driving on the road, but I didn't care. I put my hands in my coat pocket and started walking. The mom and Best Buy started shouting at me, but I didn;t here them. If I didn't have a fortune, I'd make my own fortune. I closed my eyes, and...\n\n...I had crossed the street. Cars were whizzing by at 60 miles an hour, but I just...walked by. A nearby florist, an older jewish lady, rushed outside to make sure I was okay, but I was thinking about something else. The couple wasn't holding hands anymore.\n\nThe crossing light flickered back on, and everyone crossed the street. Except one of the gay guys. He was facing the other way, arms crossed. The guy crossing the street looked heartbroken. I knew that look. I had been looking like that for ten months now.\n\nSuddenly, I knew exactly what to do. It felt like I was having a memory of something that hadn't happened yet. As the guy passed, I grabbed him by the sweater. Which was actually pretty hard, since he was a bigger guy. He stopped and turned to me, still dejected. \"Hey, hands off the threads, weirdo.\"\n\nI stopped for a second. His voice was really high, and I wasn't expecting that from a guy his size. And not high as in the stereotypical flamboyant voice, I mean as in Frankie Valli's head voice high. I shook my head and asked him his name. \"Colby. Not that it matters...\" he squeaked.\n\nI snatched a bouquet of roses from the florist's stand and thrust them towards him. \"Okay Colby, here's what you're going to do. Take these, give them to your boyfriend, and say you're sorry. For whatever you did, say you're sorry. And you have to be honest about it.\" He was about to interrupt, but I cut him off. \"Even, even if you're not sorry, say it. Don't say 'I'm sorry that I did that', no, say 'I'm sorry that I hurt you'. You two are a team. There are going to be bumps in the road, but you have to work through it together. Otherwise you'll just have so much junk piled around your relationship, that you may lose something beautiful forever.\"\n\nColby looked shocked. The florist looked more shocked. I didn't realize it, but I had started crying a little. I knew what I needed to tell Carly now. Colby said \"How did you know?\"\n\n\"Would you believe me if I said it was because I was hungry?\" I tossed the florist some bills and ran into the night. I didn't know where she lived now, but that didn't matter. I had a feeling I would find her."
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[WP]During the first testing of human teleportation, the person who arrives is not the same as the person who was teleported.
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"I take a breath as I emerge from the portal into the brightly lit chamber. I am quickly surrounded by a group of locals.\nThey poke me, prod me, take my vitals, ask me questions. \n\nIn the periphery, I see a host of onlookers. There are flashes of light from here and there.\n\nA person approaches and wraps her arms around me, I instantly recognize her as my wife. We hug and we kiss causing a small cheer to erupt among the crowd.\n\nTo the outside observer, I am Hank Barnes, 36, elastic space scientist from Tulsa, and the first man to ever be teleported successfully. \n\nI respond to their questions as Hank, using the knowledge garnered from feeding off his brain.\n\nSoon, these humans will start using elastic space teleportation to replace all modes of travel.\n\nEventually, all sufficiently intelligent life forms discover elastic space. They never seem to realize that we are there, waiting.\n\nNow, we shall spread amongst them until this planet is ours, just like all the others.\n\nI turn and smile at the cameras.",
"“I love you” \n\nThose were the last words I heard as he stepped into the portal. He moved backwards slowly, taking his time. I stared silently at his warm brown eyes as the dark blue glow consumed him. I wanted to say something… anything. I wanted to cry, scream, and shout. I wanted to plead with him. But nothing came out; I was too much of a coward. \n\nWe barely fought off the invasion; so much was lost. They told us that humanity needed to respond. We scavenged what tech we could and started right away. Within a decade, a scouting party was launched. What they found was a whole planet rebuilding for a second and final invasion. There was no way we were going to win this one. \n\nBut they were vulnerable. The first invasion had cost them greatly. They were still in the process of hatching new fighters; this was our chance. If we could strike now, we could stop them before there was even a second invasion. We could be the second invasion. \n\nThis is where we came in. Picked as the best society had to offer, a group of us were put to work on a teleportation device. The alien tech scavenged had a rudimentary knowledge in teleportation that we couldn’t understand, but we could use it and learn from it. Their organic tech was decades ahead of us. \n\nWe loved what we did, even with the most important deadline in history looming over us. Our love for the work and what we were doing soon translated into love for each other. The group would joke that we were joined at the hip. \n\nYears later, we had only figured out how to teleport inanimate objects; as time went on, the work stalled. The others went on to different projects that were deemed more plausible. We refused; our eventual discord with everyone left us jobless. Funding cut and bridges burned, we poured everything we had into this so that we could continue. \n\nEventually, our deadline arrived. An announcement was made that the fleet was to depart within a week. They were unsure that they would reach the alien planet on time, but they couldn’t wait much longer. We convinced ourselves that we had to test it; we needed this teleport to work. \n\nI quickly glance over to the second portal adjacent to the first. It usually takes a few seconds for items to reappear, no matter the distance. While the dark blue glow fades from the first portal, it starts to form inside the organic frame of the other portal. A silhouette appears from within the glow as a figure emerges. I stare into his warm brown eyes, still unable to speak. \n\n“You didn’t say ‘I love you’ back”, he said. \n\nIn that moment, it seemed that all our hard work had paid off. We had our army sent over and within a few days, we had ended the war. \n\nWe spend victory night cuddled together in front of the television; watching fireworks from across the globe go off. We deserved a break. This would be the first night we had off in years. The deafening sounds from the party outside drowned out everything else. I get up to refill our wine glasses in the kitchen. As I pour the wine, I hear what I think is a screech. Figuring it was just noise from outside, I ignore it and head back. When I get there, he isn’t on the couch. He stands, back against me, staring out the window. \n\n“Enjoying a view of the celebration? You know, we could have our own special celebration in the bedroom” I suggest. \n\nHe doesn’t turn around. Maybe he didn’t hear me. I set both wine glasses down and walk over to him. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his back. He still doesn’t respond. Something feels wrong. I take a step back and as I do, he slowly turns around. I gasp as I see his face. His mouth is ripped open by tentacles coming from within him, reminiscent of the aliens we just defeated. He tries to speak.\n\n“Heelllp….” \n\nBefore he could even finish, his cry for help transforms into a terrifying screech. He lunges at me. I manage to get out of the way and lock myself in the bathroom.\n\nMy mind is racing. Why has this happened? My thoughts immediately turn to the teleport. In that second, I go over every possibility of the alien technology we used infecting him. There is a constant banging of the door. It keeps me from thinking anymore. One final bang and it swings open.\n\nI stare into the now lifeless brown eyes of the man I used to love. As it rushes towards me, my final thoughts are with all the soldiers that have just teleported back to earth. \n\n\nedit: formatting ",
"Johnson dropped his spoon into his coffee as he stared slack-jawed at the news stream in his kitchen. On the screen, with an equally confused face, was himself. He had a different haircut, an official \"U.N.S.D\" uniform, but there was no question that it was him, with his notably long nose and narrow chin. Scientists swarmed the version of himself who had stepped through the purple, pulsating portal and the confused silence erupted into excited chattering. \n\n\"Ted.\" His wife, Marge, asked. \"Why are you on T.V?\"\n\n\"I-I don't know.\" Ted Johnson said as he placed his cup on the table. \"I think I need to make a call.\" \n\nAs it turns out, they had not discovered human teleportation, not in the way they intended, anyway. They had discovered inter-dimensional teleportation. The man who was supposed to step through the portal stepped into the world where it was Ted who was selected to be the first living human to test the technology. The decision ultimately came down to how each candidate answered near identical interview questions, where an enormous amount of factors ultimately led to opposite outcomes. The days, months and even years following lead to perhaps the most confusing and important inter-dimensional negotiations in history. ",
"When the darkness faded from his vision, Kimblee found himself circled by the same strange creatures he discovered hours earlier. This time there was more than one and they wear dressed in long bone white cloaks that covered most of their flesh. It was as if they were ashamed by what lay beneath their strange fabrics. The spiraling black void lingered behind him, waiting for Kimblee's. \nThe two-legged creatures squawked the same harsh language as the first. The noise rattled Kimblee to his core. His instinct was to lash out like he did with the first one, but he kept his composure. He had taken precautions before entering the void and dressed himself in the invader's skin. It was a good fit, their soft flesh proved easy enough to stitch back together into a wearable sack of meat.\nKimblee was amazed to spot even more of these creatures hiding behind invisible walls in a balcony above. So many...enough to feed his family for a whole month once he brought them back through the void.First things first. He wore the skin of these creatures so he must act the part. \nKimblee recalled the first thing the invader said to him and he repeated it, \"Hello, my name is James. I am from Earth.\""
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[WP] The missing catalyst to practical cold fusion and near-infinite energy has been found: one human soul.
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"One million dollars. No matter how many times we looked away, no matter how many times we pinched ourselves, the number remained the same. There were tears in her eyes, tears of joy. I hadn't seen such happy tears since the day she got into med school. Then, just as with the tuition, the joy drained from her face leaving but empty sacs of despair. I grabbed the envelope and saw the sender, the US Department of Energy. I felt it too, my heart, sinking like a rock. \n\nI look at her again \"Who. Who did they choose?\" She looked at me, it was a look I'll never forget. A look of complete loss, desolate, devoid of hope. \n\n\"Anabel\" she whispered. \n\nInstinctively I looked back at the pink room just down the hall, its door ajar. A single little pink sock sat in the hallway. \n\n3 months. That was what she was worth. 3 months of power for close to a billion people. It was fair, everyone had an equal chance, but that doesn't matter. It's one thing when it's old man Henderson down the street, or that pundit that everyone hated on TV. But Anabel, she just learned that dinosaurs had feathers dammit. How is that fair? \n\nThe crumpled check fell to the ground. Despair was replaced with determination. \n\n\"Get the car\" She said as she walked into the pink room. \"A billion people can wait\" ",
"They told me this was an incredible honor. That I will die for humanity, for the sake of science. That I'm leaving a legacy behind and I will forever go down in history. Yet here I stand, with proof that it was all a lie. All those faces, I will never forget. Young, old, women, men, even children, with bright futures ahead of them, all dead in the name of science. Who's to say I won't just be another face in the big book of dead people? \n\nI stepped onto the platform and felt the movement of the swarm of subatomic particles whizzing around underneath me. I could literally see the eerie blue shimmer of the Cherenkov radiation deep down under, near the depths of the bottomless pool. Apparently they've never gotten this far before. Then came the weird high-pitched humming noise. This is it.\n\n*Charles died that day, just one out of thousands of victims the machine claimed over the years of the experiment. Theorists argue the fusion reaction took place as expected, just in a parallel universe. Further experiments will be needed to confirm*"
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[WP] Write an epic fantasy story that culminates in an internet pun.
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"I hail the beast with the flailing of my harpoon. Its absolutely massive in size. Any man would falter to the sight of such a titan, especially one with nothing but a raft built with rushed Scottish conviction and less-than reliable wood. But not me, not a man that has lost what I have. Kai... Leo... no. I can not think of them now. not now. I have to focus on the beast that has taken from me what I held so dearly. I come upon It now, loch'd in its gaze. I raise my harpoon ready to strike the beast before It stopped the thought of me doing so by saying, In a very old and knowing voice \"I can bring them back. but I need about tree fiddy.\"",
"**TIFU by killing a dragon**\n\nThe night air was tense. The Nameless One held their staff in front of them, as if threatening the great dragon that stood in their path. The reptilian beast was known amongst the townsfolk as the Great Subhuman; \"subhuman\" being their word for neither man not beast.\n\nThe Great Subhuman ruled as dictator over the towns of Fyredin, his citizens living in fear of his enormous power. Every action of his subjects was restrained to the utmost capacity; any one who dared disobey his order would have their life extinguished in one agonizing blow. Few dared to stand up to the dictator; all the great Wizards of the eastern village.\n\nAnd so, almost as a rite of passage; the next Wizard, known only as The Nameless One, took their stance against the great beast. He seemed to know the intentions of the young Wizard in front of him, and seemingly decided to humor his demands for a proper fight. Wordlessly, he threateningly raised his wings and extended his deathly claws.\n\nAnd the combat began. The Nameless One had trained for their entire lifetime for this fight, learning every documented Magick and devising their own; yet they were unable to land a single blow on the dragon. Their energy pulses, their strongest attack, could completely collapse a cemented building back home - yet seemingly had no effect on the great beast. Their shield spells were promptly shattered, and even their most potent curses deflected off his armored scales. The Great Subhuman was truly unbeatable.\n\nThe Nameless One could do naught but surrender; and that they did. The dragon seemed to understand their mercy, and prepared to take the killing blow on the unarmed wizard. He fully extended his claws, and reared up on his hind legs - exposing his unprotected underbelly.\n\nThe Nameless One knew what had to be done. They held their staff above them, exposing the pointed hook at the tip. As the dragon descended upon them, the hook poked into his skin - \n\nThe Great Subhuman let out a mighty roar as he fell to the ground. The deep gash on his stomach began to spill dust, as subhumans would.\n\nBut then, a realisation came to the triumphant wizard. The Great Subhuman was more powerful; he *bled*. This was just a clash with an ordinary dragon.\n\nA silhouette appeared behind the fallen beast. Twice as large, with eyes like fire. He seemed to radiate Magick from his very being. This was the Great Subhuman they were looking for.\n\nOops, wrong sub."
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In Hell, India, etc.
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[WP] God outsources prayers to a call center.
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"\"Prayer receiving center, how can I help you today?\" \n\n\"Hi.. uhm.. I have a question. Do these prayers go directly through you to God?\"\n\n\"Yes ma'am, in fact, when we receive a prayer, a recording of it is automatically saved in our database, which, God, being omnipotent, can access.\"\n\n\"So... what you're saying, is, you're *not* in direct contact with God?\"\n\n\"Ma'am, please, calm down. I can assure you we pray to the Lord every day. We are very much in contact with him.\"\n\n\"Did he ever answer your prayers, though? Are you sure you're in actual contact with God and you're not just lying? Are you sure this isn't all a scheme to rip me off?\"\n\n\"Ma'am, this is a very serious business. I request you to either start your prayer, or hang up.\"\n\n\"Look, I'm onto you people. You've deluded my grandmother into thinking she is in actual contact with God. She nearly bankrupted herself with calling you on these ridiculously expensive lines.\"\n\n\"We've had several complaints about our prices, and we will definitely bring that up to upper management. Anything else, ma'am?\"\n\n\"You know what? Fuck you. I'm reporting you, and making sure you go out of business. Have a crappy day.\"\n\nCarrying a letter, he knocked on the door of his boss. He had to give Him this list of complaints, apparently it was really important to a bunch of people. \"Come in.\" \"I have a list of complaints from your prayer center, God.\" \"Just put them on my desk.\"\n__________________________________________________________________________________________\nHi there. Liked my story? Thanks! Didn't! Tell me why, and I'll try to improve. One of the ways I try to improve is to reach a bigger audience, which is why I created a [blog] (http://writingpetesstories.blogspot.nl/2015/11/wp-god-outsources-prayers-to-call-center.html). It's pretty new, so don't expect too much. But if you liked it, come view my blog some more times!",
"“A’right guys, no horsing around, I know it’s been a tough morning but you can’t let go just right now. It’s about to be noon on UTC+5, you know what that means… Now calm down, move those arms, roll those shoulders, close your eyes and focus. I need you on top of your game. I need you *in* today. You feel me?”\n\nMandeep Shapoor marked a rhetorical pause and gave a dominating look around him. The area manager for the eastern hemisphere of the IF (Islamic Faith) markets had one of the toughest schedules in the company. And he took to it with the dedication of a commanding officer in the Green Berets. Jaws clenched on the piece of gum he was eternally masticating, headset looped around his muscular neck, two buttons opened on his pale blue shirt, he was physically reminiscent of the commander he saw himself as.\n\n“M’kay guys… and girls, you’re the best. I mean it. But if you let me down on that one… I swear I will have you assigned to a convent for the next five years.”\n\nA shudder ran through the mass of heads showing out of there cubicles. Convents were dreaded across the entire call centre. Simultaneously extremely demanding because of their tight prayer schedules and incredibly dull thanks to the highly repetitive nature of those prayers, they made even the most thickly skinned reel at the view of prayer beads. Even years later, veterans of the CS (Convent Services) had been known to mutter, wild-eyed, bits of Hail Mary and Our Father during their breaks… Thankfully, Mandeep’s menaces were always far more frightening than the actions he ended up taking. Yet he was known to be prone to fits of rage that were the stuff of legends among those working under him.\n\nMandeep looked at the array of world clocks that spanned the office wall behind him and paced nervously, clutching the tablets showing the status of the prayer lines in the call center that he carried almost everywhere he went. \n\n“We’re gonna be short.” Looking at his team. “This is gonna be a tough one, let’s p… hope there’s enough keeping them busy over there.” A flash of angst crossed his eyes. Under his breath he began counting down. \n\nA red light began flashing next to a desk. Then more, quickly the entire office floor was submerged in a wave of red lights turning on. Game faces on, the members of Mandeep’s team turned away from him as they began to tackle their daunting task. On his tablet as many prayer lines turned red, each corresponding to an operator taking a prayer. A discrete bead of sweat had appeared on Mandeep Shapoor’s temple. The uncertainty had left place to cold determination. *Adh-Dhouhr*, the muslim midday prayer was peak prayer time for IF teams and midday was about to hit India and Pakistan before moving to Bangladesh and Indonesia. For the next three hours, Mandeep’s team would have to face half a billion prayers streaming in almost simultaneously. \n\nI blew on my cup of tea absent-mindedly. There was something mesmerising about the IF teams operations. Sometimes I almost envied them. While technically the CF (Christian faith) department I was a part of was much more important, IF team members always got a lot of respects from other employees. In the untold hierarchy of call centre employees the popularity of the religion mattered less than the amount of work it implied. Of course, CF teams were generally considered cushier jobs. The large Christian population combined with dwindling attendance and more sporadic praying habits (except for the aforementioned convents and monasteries - a plight among almost all religions) made for good career opportunities and much quieter days in general. \n\nTaking a sip, I realised I had been blowing on an already passably cold tea. Wincing, I put down the mug and looked at the computer in front of me. No incoming prayers. The american western seaboard was one of the dullest to cover at night for the RC (Roman Catholic) unit of the CF department. I let out a bored sigh. In a couple hours, when South-America woke up, things would get more interesting. Till then, I had nothing to do but wait. \n\nI considered pouring myself another tea, but a glimpse towards the break room confirmed the weirdos of the ZF (Zoroastrian Faith) department were hanging in there. Right now, I was in no spirit to put up with their esoteric jokes and obscure references. \n\nMy eyes went back to Mandeep Shapoor, now sweating profusely as he barked orders from cubicles to cubicles. My eyes darted as they caught a glimpse of a red line blinking on my screen. I rushed to click it before someone else took the line.\n\n“God on the line, how may I help you tonight?”\n\nThe formulaic greeting came out of my mouth with no sense of warmth. Repetition quickly led everyone to speaking in the same neutral tone. In any case, it went unheard. 99% of the time, people prayed to be heard, not to listen. \n\n“Dear god, please protect me and my family.”\n\nThe usual. Bored as I was, I already regretted picking this call.\n\n“Please care for Timmy, he’s misguided. Please bring him to your rightful way.”\n\nOut of curiosity, I looked up little Timmy. He was turning out to be a fine gay man. Nothing to see here…\n\n“Please protect Martha and heal her husband.”\n\nThis was more legitimate. My screen taught me Martha was deep in debt paying for her husband’s cancer treatment. I might have to spend a few credits of godly help here. Unfortunately I couldn’t do much about the cancer without escalating it up the hierarchy. And management’s orders were pretty clear on the health and sickness prayer topics…\n\n“Please save us from all those muslim refugees immigrating in on our territory and destroying our beautiful faith.”\n\nI rolled my eyes. And looked at Mandeep’s team. I wondered how many opposing prayers we were getting. People never understood the fact that they were all praying to the same God. Now I was really regretting picking up that call. \n\n“Thank you. Our father, who is in heaven…”\n\nI closed my eyes, took a long inspiration and muted the call."
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[WP] Humanity has taken a page out of dog behavior. If you pee on it, it's yours.
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"A Sunday wedding, a big affair;\nOver two thousand guests were there. \nThe bride was the fairest in all the state,\nAnd rich--the heir to Daddy's estate. \n\nHer groom was kind, sweet, quiet but funny,\nAnd he seemed unconcerned with Papa's money.\nHe loved her well, he loved her true,\nOn that day of old, new, borrowed and blue.\n\nHe rented a tux, she wore a gown of white.\nEven her daddy near cried at the sight.\nThe preacher started the service so well,\nBut it was his fault that it all went to hell.\n\nFirst came the sermon, and that was fine.\nNext came the vows, but no words crossed the line. \nBut then the damn fool forgot the new laws,\nAnd with old tradition, gave all suitors cause. \n\n\"If any object,\" he said without thinkin',\n\"To the holy union of Jason T. Lincoln\nAnd Becky Lou Hefner, I charge you, please:\nOut with it now, or forever hold your peace.\" \n\nWell, twenty-three men stood up that day\nAnd yelled at their neighbors to get out the way.\nNow some, I'm sure, had love in their eyes,\nBut twenty-three men were undoing their flies,\n\nAnd the sight was one not quite worth my while:\nTwenty-three cocks flopping up and down the aisle.\nThe women gasped, the children giggled\nAs the wannabe suitors ran and wriggled.\n\nThe groom and bridesmaids tried to cover the bride\n(While keeping two exposed groomsmen off to one side),\nAnd ol' Daddy Hefner stood from the front row\nWith a pistol and shouted, \"All y'all better go!\"\n\nA warning shot fired into the church roof,\nIgnored by most of the men on the hoof.\nA few stopped, out of fear or maybe shame,\nNo longer wanting to piss for a name.\n\nBut the others swarmed past the gun-wielding man\nAnd onward to golden inheritance, they ran.\nThey overwhelmed Daddy, and took his gun,\nThen rushed to the pulpit, thinking they'd won.\n\nMeanwhile, the bride tried to make the back door\nTo escape the lunatics trying NOT to be poor,\nBut some of the men had skipped around to one side;\nThey blocked her exit; she could not hide.\n\nNow here's where I come into this tale of pee.\nI couldn't just let them take possession, you see. \nI knew it was a little gross, speaking strictly;\nBut please understand, I had to act quickly.\n\nSo I hiked up my skirt, and I stained her dress.\nThe men were furious, as you can guess.\nThe church had gone quiet, no more fights or rounds,\nSo my strangely long tinkle was the only sound. \n\nTwenty-three men were enraged at the sight.\nThey shouted, they raged, but they'd all lost the fight.\nSo they tucked in their junk and went back to the pews.\nAnd their friends laughed at how they'd had to lose. \n\nIn front of two thousand, I pissed that day;\nAnd so it was my right to give the bride away.\nI fixed my skirts, and turned to the groom:\n\"I know she's dirty, but still wanna jump the broom?\"\n\nSo I saved their wedding, that's all that matters.\n(Even though the whole town watched me empty my bladder.)\nI guess I'm famous now--my name's Lindsey Connor,\nBut you can call me the Yellow Maid of Honor. "
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[WP] A villain obsessed with poetry but can't seem to recite any correctly
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"I took a few deep breath as I focused my power around me. I was standing in an alley close to Metro City Bank. It was now or never, I had been here long enough that people walking to and from their destinations were starting to give me curious looks. Of course that may have been because of my neon green and yellow retro costume, but there was a reason for that. \n\n\"You've got this!\" I hissed at myself under my breath. \"Remember the lines and all will be fine.\"\n\nWith that I wrapped my powers around my body, lifted off and shot around the corner like a bolt of lightning. Trash cans and debris came flying out of the alley behind me and cars were overturned as I passed. In a crash of tearing metal I slammed through the doors of the bank and rose to the top of the ceiling. Screams and cries of surprise broke out below me and the guards, mostly prepared for such things, went for their guns. Before they could aim I pushed out with my power and forced everyone to their knees. Leaving them no choice but to look up at the man now holding them hostage. \n\n*Here we go.* I thought, palms sweating. *Now or never before you lose them forever.*\n\n\"Citizens of Metro! I've come looking retro! Your money is mine, give it up you'll be fine. There is no escape so accept your fate. I'll understand if you cry but if you do you will pie!\" Wait. No no no not again. Had they noticed? \n\n\"Pie?\" Said an old man, looking up at me in confusion. \"I think you meant die young man.\"\n\nFuck, fuck, fuck. That one was so simple! Now my entrance was ruined. Can I still recover from this catastrophe with a display of mastery? \n\n\"Pie was my aim I'm not playing....\" \n\n\"Games?\" The same old man supplied. \n\nWith a scream of frustration I lashed out and slammed everyone face first into the ground. \"Fuck you old geezer hope you die from a.....tweezer!\" I yelled before propelling myself back out of the door. The sound of laughter following behind me. "
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[WP] You owe Lucifer your soul. He doesn't want it.
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"Annabelle had never seen Lucifer so distraught before, his eyes filled with the kind of pain he was only used to causing. She looked down at the corpse that he loomed over. The color had fallen from her once lively skin and the blood that came from the large gash in her stomach finally stopped flowing. \n\n\"Lucifer... I'm still here.\" She whispered softly to him, \"My soul will forever live here... with you.\" \n\n\"No.\" He grunted at her, \"I will not trap you down here with me.\" He shoved himself to his feet, tearing his eyes away from her body. \"This is my fault, this is all my fault!\"\n\n\"Don't say that,\" Annabelle reached out for him, \"this is where we were going to end up sooner or later. My soul has been marked as yours ever since I fell in love with you. Please, Lucifer, just take it. Please!\" Her hands passed through his skin as she tried to grasp his arm. \n\n\"I don't want it!\" He bellowed so loudly the walls seemed to shake with his anger. Annabelle retracted, backing up against the bed they used to share. Her bottom trembled as she fell into the fiery blankets that used to warm their bodies with the sin of their love.\n\n\"That's it then? You will banish my soul to purgatory instead of keep me here with you?\" \n\n\"That's exactly it. Leave me. I want nothing to do with your soul.\"\n\n",
"\"Well,\" Barry said reluctantly, \"I have to admit: that was the best donut I've had in my entire life.\" He patted his oversized belly with a mixture of regret and guilt. He had been on the diet his wife pressured him into for the past four months now, and it had taken a toll on him from a psychological standpoint. \n\nSo when he had said: \"I would *literally* sell my soul for a chocolate iced boston creme donut\" he had only been slighly startled when Satan himself appeared with a silver platter containing the very pastry he had requested, looking more succulent than even his fondest memories. If it hadn't been for that damned diet, he would never have taken the offer. But then, if he had not been so sincere in his exclamation, it would not have attracted the personal attention of the Prince of Darkness, either. \n\nSo now the deal was done. The donut was eaten, and Barry was quite ready to suffer the consequences. \"So,\" he asked, \"How's this gonna work? Heart attack? Stroke? Car accident? How am I gonna kick it?\"\n\nLucifer raised a hand, and waved dismissively. \"Oh, that's quite alright, my dear fellow. I wasn't actually looking for your soul. I just noticed how sincerely you seemed to want that donut and after all, considering who you are, I felt it was the least I could do.\"\n\n\"Considering who I am? What's that supposed to mean?\" Barry asked.\n\nBut Old Scratch just chuckled dismissively and said, \"Let's just say, it doesn't serve my purposes to take you at this juncture.\"\n\n\"Wait a minute!\" Barry told him, \"A deal's a deal. I don't cheat people who deal honestly with me.\"\n\n\"Another point for my case,\" Beelzabub pointed out with a lighthearted shrug.\n\n\"Now hang on here!\" Barry insisted, wondering if he should be insulted now. \"Are you trying to tell me my soul isn't *suitable* for Hell or something?\"\n\n\"Now, now, my friend. You really are taking this all wrong. You had yourself a fine donut, with my compliments. And your soul is just fine. Really,\" said the Father of Lies.\n\nEventually, Barry nodded in acknowledgement and grumbled a relucant thanks as he put on his hat and stepped away from the old Archfiend and returned to the crowded street on his way to work. \n\nHe was so distracted thinking about the incident that he bumped an old lady, who stumbled into a young man with a mohawk and lip piercings who shouted at her to watch where she was going. This in turn meant mohawk-guy wasn't watching where he was going and knocked the ball out of the hand of a young child playing on the sidewalk.\n\nThe ball bounced into the street, where the child chased after it. Horns blared and a car screeched to a halt in a nick of time. The cars behind him were not so lucky, and before you knew it, rush hour traffic was backed up in twenty car pile up. Sixteen people were injured, one killed. \n\nBut probably most notable in the grand scheme of things, the traffic tie up delayed a UN diplomat on his way to a troublesome negotiation between two little known, yet highly belligerent nations who had been on the verge of being at one another's throats for decades. As far as the hostile opposing parties were concerned, this failure to show up for negotiations was the final insult that demanded a response. \n\nThings escalated between them in a series of military posturing gone way overboard, and before long, the two old rivals were in a viscious bloody war. More powerful nations urged them to end the bloodshed, but they wouldn't listen. Among those other nations were two rival superpowers who superficially claimed to be interested in ending the bloodshed, but it soon became apparent that each side had interests in backing opposite sides of the original conflict, so that before long, the superpowers themselves were engaged in a bitter cold war which constantly threatend to thaw and ignite. \n\nWhen a misunderstanding at sea caused one of those superpowers to sink a battleship belonging to the other, the situation finally boiled over, and it was not too long before the missiles began to fly. World War III was upon us.\n\n.\n\nAnd then one day, as he hurried along the city streets, eyes frantically scanning the skies and ears peeled for the sound of air raid sirens, Barry happened to bump into a familiar face among the crowds of otherwise terrified citizens. Sure enough, it was the Angel of Darkness himself. Though a year had passed since what Barry now thought of as the \"free donut\" incident, he recognized his benefactor instantly.\n\n\"Well, well,\" drawled Mephistopheles, \"If it isn't my old friend Barry. A fine job you did for me, my little Catalyst. You'll recall, of course, that fine donut you requested that set off our association?\"\n\n\"What about it?\" Barry asked suspiciously.\n\n\"Well, as I'm sure you've guessed by now, I like the practice the Fine Art of Evasive Truth from time to time, and I dare say, I'm fairly good at it.\" He waved a hand at the darkened skies, and the frightened civilians awaiting imminent doom. \"So, what do you say, Barry? Now that you've played the tiny role I needed you to play, would you care for one more donut just for old time's sake?\"\n\n\"Oh no you don't!\" Barry told him, \"You had your chance!\" And he turned without a backwards glance and hurried on his way. Satan just shrugged and laughed as he watched him go. As deals went, this one had already been quite satisfyingly profitable.\n\n",
"Besides the receptionist sitting at her desk, Iris Fox sat alone in the sparsely decorated waiting room. Cool white LEDs illuminated the glass and concrete architecture of the room as the receptionist's constant typing was the only thing breaking the silence.\n\nIris ran her fingers through her long black hair as she fixed her suit and tie. One might argue the outfit looked too masculine, but the impeccable tailoring that outlined her slender figure and her attractive facial features usually overruled any further critique.\n\nThe receptionist stopped typing abruptly and a blank expression appeared on her face as she stared into the distance slightly above the computer hologram. She slowly turned her head to the side as if to hear a whisper then turned to Iris,\n\n\"He will see you now.\" the receptionist said flatly, a blank expression still on her face. She continued typing as Iris stood up and walked through the sliding glass door.\n\nInside, floor-to-ceiling frameless glass windows of the corner penthouse office afforded a commanding view of the rainy city. A thin minimalist desk, and two chairs on either side of it were the only furniture in the room. Iris looked around the empty office and turned to exit but stopped as she sensed another presence in the room. She slowly turned around to see a man in a suit standing behind the desk, admiring the rain.\n\nIris walked up to the desk and saw a slightly bloodied dagger and a sheet of paper with nothing but a red wax seal and a drop of blood on it. She looked up at the figure.\n\n\"That's not yours.\" the figure said, still admiring the rain. \n\nIris looked back down at the desk, the dagger and paper no longer on it.\n\n\"I'm here to close out our agreement.\" Iris said.\n\nThe figure turned and took a long look at Iris, then looked away, eyes squinted and lips pursed in thought.\n\n\"If it's any consolation,\" the figure began, \"I may have a job for you.\"\n\nThe figure paused and looked back at Iris.\n\n\"That requires you to keep it.\"\n\nIris tried not to show interest and she was partially successful.\n\n\"What's the catch?\" Iris asked.\n\n\"Heh,\" the figure chuckled, \"after everything we agreed to and everything that's happened to you since then, you're still afraid I might undermine you somehow? I've tried that before and it doesn't work out for *anyone*.\"\n\nIris thought about this for a moment. He was right. Everything that she had requested in their contract had come true or come to fruition without any detrimental effects. Or at least effects that she could reckon first hand. She didn't care otherwise.\n\n\"What's the job?\" Iris asked. \n\n\"How much do you know about death?\" The figure asked, taking a seat.\n\nIris squinted her eyes in thought,\n\n\"Well, it happens to everybody.\" Iris answered.\n\nThe figure gave her a smirk. Iris noticed this and slowly took her seat, her interest slightly piqued.\n\n\"Have you heard of Thana Capital?\" the figure continued.\n\nIris shook her head.\n\n\"They started as an investment banking firm. Since then they've diversified to other industries; mainly the pharmaceutical and the aerospace/defense sector. Their CEO?\" the figure paused and looked at Iris, \"Is Death.\"\n\nThe figure sat back in his chair. Iris slowly did the same as her mind raced.\n\n\"Death. As in..\" she said, her voice trailing off.\n\n\"Yes.\" the figure replied, \"He approves departures.\"\n\n\"So what do you want me to do?\" Iris asked.\n\n\"I need you to infiltrate his company and gather any information on how to...postpone departure.\" The figure said, \"Preferably indefinitely.\"\n\n\"That seems a little altruistic.\" Iris said, a tone of cautiousness in her voice.\n\n\"The body you see is merely a vessel,\" The figure explained. \"It ages and when my time is up, I randomly inhabit another and believe me, I've been a suicide bomber, child soldier, or a starving person in Africa more often than a person with access to clean water and a goddamn toilet. This billionaire CEO before you, is one of the best vessels I've been in and I'd like to keep it.\"\n\n\"Why is it a requirement that I keep my...you know,\" Iris asked, patting her chest.\n\n\"Because Death is the only one there without one. He'll know if you don't have yours.\" The figure replied. \"Unlike here, all of his workers are normal people, oblivious to who they're *really* working for.\" \n\n\"What's in it for me?\" she asked.\n\n\"Besides the potential for immortality, I'll give you whatever you want after the job is done, no payment required.\" \n\n\"Well after the last contract, I already have everything I want.\" Iris replied.\n\n\"I'm sure you can figure something out before then.\"\n\nIris crossed her arms and stared out of the windows at the rain, contemplating the offer.\n\n\"I'll do it.\"",
"I looked at the business card He'd given me, making sure I was at the right place. I flipped it over, looking at the handwriting on the back to be sure I had the correct instructions.\n\nEverything checked out - I was here, this was it.\n\nSighing, I put the card back in my suit's breast pocket and looked up at the restaurant. He'd chosen the classiest, most expensive restaurant in the middle of the priciest part of downtown, but He'd assured me that He'd be footing the bill. Otherwise, I'd have pushed to meet Him at a dive bar.\n\nMaking sure I'd brushed my hair neatly, and that my beard had been trimmed, I walked up the front steps and opened the door. The biting cold of the outdoors quickly faded into the comforting warmth of inside as I walked inside into the yellowish-orange glow of the lights.\n\nThe maitre'd, a thin man in a tuxedo, looked up from his spot at the front desk.\n\n\"Welcome, sir. Do you have a reservation?\", he said in a slight British accent.\n\nI took a red envelope out of my pocket and handed it to him, \"Yes, I'm here to meet Mr. Morningstar.\"\n\nHe opened it and had a look at the card inside, before tearing out a small card and handing it to me. \n\n\"He's in the King's Room. Straight ahead, take a right at the end of the bar, and it's at the end of the Hallway. Give this card to the large man at the door.\"\n\nI did as he'd instructed, and sure enough there was a very large man standing in front of a door labelled *KING'S ROOM*. Without speaking, I handed him the card. Acknowledging it with a grunt, he let me in.\n\nI nervously took a seat in front of Him next to a fire pit, which now that I think about it had to be some kind of building code violation.\n\n\"You're early\", he said, his cool voice barely above a whisper, \"I like that.\"\n\n\"I hate wasting time\", I replied, \"Wouldn't want to waste yours.\"\n\nHe chuckled, \"So considerate of you. Go ahead, pour a drink if you want one.\"\n\nThere was a small table with a few bottles of wine, and a single glass. Too my satisfaction, I noticed my favourite brand of Mead, and poured a glass. We did a quick toast before He continued.\n\n\"When you first approached me with your offer, I must admit I found it highly amusing. You wouldn't have been the first to have come to me about something like that, offering your soul. I don't always accept such deals.\"\n\n\"Someone had to do something. I'd seen all the footage of people begging, screaming to... God for help, to save them. And what does He do? Nothing. And where's the International Community? Sitting and watching as those bastards cut innocent people apart while screaming His praises. Because they don't want to risk their 'investments'.\"\n\nI took a drink of my mead. *Not too strong, but nice and sweet - just how I like it.*\n\n\"I always heard the crap about 'God's Will', and 'He works in mysterious ways'. Bullshit, I say - nothing more than a cop out. An excuse to let bad shit happen to good people, and feel okay about it. The world burns, and we say He wanted it this way.\"\n\nHe smiled as he sipped his cognac, \"He does have a strange way of doing, or rather... not doing things. I've known Him for quite some time, as you'd imagine.\"\n\nThere was about 10 seconds of silence before I spoke again.\n\n\"You said that people have come to you about this sort of thing before. Why did you accept *my* offer?\"\n\nHe put his drink down, and leaned forward.\n\n\"Everyone has things they want to do, but few of those people actually have the will to carry it out and see it to the end. A young child says they want to be an astronaut, yet backs down when they see how hard it truly is. Someone might go into law enforcement, yet when faced with the hatred of an always-unsatisfied public, they crack under pressure. Someone might join the military, only to drop out of Boot Camp when the screaming of the Drill Instructors becomes too much for them. *DESIRE* is one thing, *WILL* is another.\"\n\nHe picked up his drink and took a sip before setting it back down.\n\n\"I accepted YOUR offer, because I sensed that out of all the people who approach me regarding things like this, DESIRING to do something about it, you were one of the few people with the WILL to act.\"\n\nI couldn't help but smirk. Lucifer Himself had just given me a compliment.\n\n\"Also, this had been stirring for years before it... 'exploded' recently. He did nothing then, and He did nothing now. I had to send Him a very strong message.\"\n\nI took a drink, \"What sort of message?\"\n\n\"*If You won't protect them, then I will!*\"\n\n\"And that's why you had me 'do it', right?\"\n\n\"Yes. I couldn't Myself go so blatantly out in the open and make such an... overt action. Half of Heaven would be on me in an instant! I've found a more subtle approach works best in many cases - draws less attention, and by the time your adversary can react, it's too late.\"\n\nI finished my glass, \"Did so many really have to die to send this message?\"\n\n\"I believe you have a metaphor regarding omelettes...\"\n\nI took a few moments to digest this. *All the time I thought I was doing something to stop a bunch of fucking religious nutjobs from slaughtering innocent people, I was being used to 'send a message' to God?*\n\nHe finished his drink, \"Now, on the subject of payment for this deed...\"\n\nI reached into an inside pocket and removed a pouch. An intense white glow shone through the thick leather.\n\n\"I know, the price was my so-...\"\n\nHe held up his hand, \"Keep it. You've earned it.\"\n\n\"... what?\"\n\n\"I honestly didn't expect that you, despite your Desire and Will, could not only complete the task, but exceed my expectations to such a staggering degree. I've no need for your soul, because I can see you're much stronger with it.\"\n\nI stood up slowly, \"Thank you, Lucifer.\"\n\nHe too stood up, and shook my hand, \"My pleasure. Can I look forward to meeting with you again?\"\n\n\"That depends on the offer.\", I said as I turned towards the door.\n\n\"Well, if we start having more religious genocides - Christians on Muslims, and the like - you're on my rolodex.\" \n\nThe door shut firmly behind me, and seemed to disappear. Soon there was just a dead-end hallway.\n\nI stopped into the Men's Room on my way out. I didn't speak to anyone, aside from a quick nod to the bartender and the maitre'd.\n\nStepping onto the sidewalk, I walked straight into someone big.\n\n\"Ah! Sorry 'bout tha -\"\n\nMy voice caught in my throat. He was even bigger than Lucifer's doorman. A black man, at least eight or nine feet tall, clad in obsidian armour with some kind of spear strapped to his hip. Two glistening white wings, each as long as he was tall, flared out from his back.\n\n\"I apologize for the interruption, sir. But I must speak with you regarding what just happened.\"\n\n\"Who the hell are you?\"\n\n\"I'm afraid that pronouncing my true name in your presence would kill you and everyone within a hundred miles. But you may call me **Michael**.\"",
"“Hi.” I tuck my dress in under my legs as I take a seat on the couch. I can barely remember the vision I had when I was young, the wings, the face, everything. Lucifer sits behind the desk, watching me silently, eyes the color of brimstone. Nerves overtaking me, I look away, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind my ear. \n\n“Hello Bridget.” The voice sends a chill up my spine. I give a small nod, clasping my hands together, fingers interlocking and focus on that. “Do you even remember why you’re here?” \n\n“I—I think so?” I shut my eyes, attempting to block out the sounds of screams and the smell of sulfur. And the sensation of the piercing eyes on me. “I made a deal when I was young.” For what now, I couldn’t remember. Probably something needlessly childish like a dolly or something. I had been the type of child to do so. \n\n“Do you remember what for?” I shake my head, opening my eyes to focus back down on my lap again. I twiddle my thumbs over one another, trying hard not to be terrified and cry. I was a grown woman and tears would do me no good. The deal had been made and my soul is his. “You asked me to stop the car from sinking so your mother and father would live.” \n\nThe car accident comes back into vivid focus and my stomach lurches. I had blocked it from my memory save for the hazy image of Lucifer sitting beside me in the backseat of the car on the booster seat. Mom and dad’s head lolled to the sides and I remember the look on his face now, it had been surprise. \n\n“I hadn’t been there for you but you saw me.” A small smirk crawls up onto his face. “Children are always so perceptive around that age.” The smile vanishes as fast as it comes. “And you looked at me and begged me to help save them.” There’s a burst of light and a contract sits in his hand. He shows me the bottom of it. \n\nScrawled across the bottom in big capital letters is my name. Bridget Flynn Morrison. Save that I’d misspelled my own last name and attempted to correct it. In careful, neat handwriting underneath my six-year old self’s scrawl is my name written in brilliant, perfect calligraphy. Lucifer’s handwriting. \n\n“I did.” My voice is barely a whisper. We had all survived that night by some miracle the workers had called it. It hadn’t really been a miracle, it had been the Devil instead. My hands press tighter together and I tremble softly. I was supposed to lose both parents that night, in the rain, in the giant pile-up that sent us flying off the bridge. Many others had died. \n\n“I don’t want it.” He looks at the contract, grimacing as he does so. It mars his angelic face to give such an expression. The statement makes me come full-stop. \n\n“You—You what?” \n\n“I don’t want it.” He shakes his head. “I wasn’t there for you. I was there for your father. I was going to make him a deal for his own life.” A thin smile appears on his lips. “Instead, I got a selfless six year old girl begging me to save her family, even if one would’ve sold them to the Devil at the drop of a hat if it meant he could be free of them and his debts.” \n\n“Dad’s… down here then?” The realization washes over me. My father hadn’t been the best man in the world but he was still my father. Though after the accident, he had been better, for a time. Eventually old habits kicked in and he eventually died of them. Drinking and drugging will do that to you. \n\n“Yes.” He shakes his head. “And no, I cannot let you see him.” I give a very slow nod, shutting my eyes as everything continues to sink in. \n\n“You don’t… You don’t want it?” \n\n“No Bridget, I don’t.” Lucifer gives me a gentle, stunning smile. It makes me shiver. “If not for selling your soul for your parent’s lives, you would’ve been up there and frankly, after everything you’ve been through and how my contract with you was done, I don’t feel right about it.” His eyes return to the contract. It catches fire, making me gasp, jerking back in my seat. He stays silent until it’s consumed entirely and I’m sitting in the seat, staring at where it had been. “Enjoy yourself, Bidu.” The room quickly begins to fade, washed out with a stunningly bright light. \n\n“T—Thank you.” ",
"\"Dude, seriously. It's fine. I don't want it.\"\n\nI frowned. I couldn't understand why he wouldn't take it. I glanced back over to it; glowing bright on his desk, in an empty jar I had lying around the house somewhere.\n\n\"There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it, Lucy. I just don't understand why you won't take it. I can't have people thinking I don't make good on my promises.\"\n\n\"Robert, it's fine. I get millions of souls per year through various contracts. It's not like I'm going to have a shortage. Profits have been on the rise for decades. You don't have to give it to me. I don't need it.\"\n\nBefore I could respond, he grabbed the contract out of my hands and ripped it up.\n\n\"See? It's fine. I won't revoke my side of the deal, either. You can go on living your fantastic life. I just... Don't want your soul.\"\n\n\"Am I really that terrible? I mean, you must have the souls of the worst people in history in hell. How could my soul be so bad that you don't want it?\"\n\nHe sighed.\n\n\"Are you really going to argue with me about this? I'm letting you keep your soul, for Christ's sake! Look, I can't - I don't want your soul. Please get out of my office.\"\n\nI was getting angrier now.\n\n\"No. Tell me why you won't take it.\"\n\n\"Fine! Fucking fine. Do you want to know why I can't take your soul? Because it's not my department. I can only take human souls.\"\n\n\"... What?\"\n\nI couldn't quite comprehend the implications of what he'd said. I'm not human? Then what am I?\n\n\"Look, I thought the contract was fine when we signed it. But the big guy upstairs didn't inform me until recently that it was null and void, because you have the soul of a dog. All dogs go to heaven.\"\n\n\"I'm a dog? Seriously? How did this happen?\"\n\n\"It was a stipulation in your contract that you wouldn't remember what my side of the bargain was, and that you wouldn't have the curiosity to ask. But you were an abused dog. One day, while I was masquerading as a pit bull at a dog fighting ring, we got to talking. I figured, 'Hey, I've never made a deal with a dog before. This could be interesting.' So I briefly explained theology and human culture to you, and you wished to live a happy, normal, human life.\"\n\nI was pretty shocked, to say the least. But come to think of it, I did find it strange that I couldn't actually remember what I'd sold my soul for.\n\n\"Well, uh. Thanks, Lucy. I guess I won't see you around.\"\n\n\"Yep. See ya, Rex. Err, Robert.\""
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[WP] All humans have a homeward sense similar to pigeons that manifests as a kind of a pull towards one's most important place, this being often the childhood home. Now you, you have always felt this pull towards the stars...
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"I have lived in the woods of Upstate NY for as long as I can remember, I have always loved the beautiful forests and aincent mountians. Unlike my friends I never felt the pull as they did. Whenever they vacationed they would feel our village calling them. \nI never told them that it never happened to me. I would lie, a white lie. I love this village and the woods where I live but, What pulls me is stars. Out beyond our world somewhere is home. \nWhen I was young I worried I was an alien and my skin would turn green. Until my grand parents told me to knock it off. They seemed upset about my fancies. \n\nIt was long after they passed away that I found out, that they weren't being puritanical and squashing my imagination. \n\nI learned that their daughter was born Amelia Warren who was later known under her Married name, Commander Amy Sandhurst. One of the first American women to attempt the colonization of Titan. The mission had lasted years, was mildly successful but in the end everyone decided to come back to Earth. With one new member on board They returned heros and the baby (a toddler by the time they reached earth) was treated as royalty until they disappeared into Live normal lives in peace. Sadly my parents passed away in a car accident when I was seven. Somehow I was never curious about why the whole world grieved as I did. \n\nIt turned out that my grandparents felt it was disrespectful of my mother's memory and improper for the first child of Titan to ramble about green people with big eyes and UFO's.\n-------\nFirst prompt sorry if it's horrible. Let me know what I should work on.",
"It's something I've always felt. A pull towards a far away place. When I look up on a clear night, towards the stars and the infinite expanse of space, I feel that pull. Friends of mine, those that I share close feelings with, tell me they feel the same thing. Only theirs is towards their birth place. \n\nMy Indian friend always feels a pull towards India, and whenever he sees pictures of his birth country, that hook pulls harder at his chest. The same goes for my friends not born in this small midwestern town. The consequence of these feelings, which are felt by all human beings, is that people have keepsakes and pictures of the place they were born nearby.\n\nFor me, I've always been fascinated with space. The stars are fascinating, and looking up at night is what grounds me. I feel this pull in my chest, as if I'm yearning to go back. But how can I go back to the stars? Human's haven't even left earth yet, at least not beyond temporary excursions to the moon. \n\nThis feeling is what drives me in life. The question, why do I feel this pull towards the stars?, echoes in my waking moments. It's what has driven me towards my goal all these years. I'm an astronaut, and it's been a long time coming for my first trip to the stars. As luck would have it, the discovery of a faster-than-light engine coincided with my acceptance into the space program, and being one of the best and brightest recruits has it's potential. I was in the first round selection for humanities first interstellar trip. \n\nNASA, in collusion with the European Space Agency, had decided to send our first ship to the nearest solar system that had very good odds of an earthlike planet. AD Leonis. Two planets in the goldilocks zone, and the star is roughly the right age and size. \n\nI was nervous, sitting in the shuttle chair. The redesigned spacesuit was sleek, and a lot less bulky than the ones that supported humans in our first few spaceward endeavors. As the countdown began, I was overcome with various emotions. Excitement, fear, wonder, awe. But most of all, I felt the familiar pull behind my chest. As the G-force pushed me into my chair, my chest felt lighter, as if I was being pulled up and away from the planet I'd called home for 32 years. \n\nAs we cleared Atmo, and the boosters broke away from the ship, the feelings grew in intensity. I wasn't sure how I knew, but without a doubt, I was headed home. Through hardship, to the stars. ",
"“I can’t wait to go home,” Lisa says. Anna quirks a brief smile at her.\n\n“That does sound good right now,” Anna replies in an exhale of smoke. She passes the cigarette to Lisa with little fuss. Lisa breathes in, feeling the familiar weight in her mouth, and watches it escape in a haze of desperation.\n\nHer free hand taps out a beat on her knee. “I just got like, no sleep.” She looks up, grins. “Okay, not no sleep, like you. Miss Insomniac.”\n\n“I wouldn’t call it insomnia,” Anna half-chides, half-mumbles. Her eyes flick to the sky, then back down to her black heels, shiny and cheap. Lisa knows they’re cheap, because she and Anna had bought them together when their boss had began dropping passive-aggressive remarks on uniformity.\n\n“Yeah-huh,” Lisa says, and takes another drag before passing it to Anna.\n\n“It’s really not,” Anna says. They’ve had this conversation a few times before. Lisa understands her less each time. “I told you, I’m just--busy.” She watches the smoke curl from the cigarette’s end, stares at it rise and evaporate into the air with what seems to be something like envy.\n\n“You’re single with an office job,” Lisa reminds her.\n\nWhen Anna laughs this time, it’s louder.\n\nIf Lisa’s being honest, she does want to know why Anna sleeps so little. She knows it’s not a lie; she sees the angry purple beneath Anna’s eyes, the way she can fall asleep with a snap of her fingers. She does.\n\nBut there is something Lisa has learned, about getting older; you don’t ask questions like that, don’t ask “why can’t you sleep at night?”. Still, for Lisa, she likes to imagine a world where she’s a little braver, or really, a little younger, and where she asks, and where Anna replies with the truth, and their fingers join--\n\nOops, dangerous territory.\n\n“Hey,” Anna says, suddenly. She snuffs the cigarette out in the ashtray, because Anna never drops her cigarettes on the ground and grinds their flames out like Lisa used to. “There’s a meteor shower, soon. Do you want to go see it?”\n\nLisa doesn’t care for things like this. She ignores supermoons, forgets about eclipse dates, doesn’t understand the excitement behind the cosmos. She never has.\n\nShe looks at Anna, the slender column of her neck in the sun, her face downturned and light splashing the side of nose, the line of her profile.\n\n“Sure,” Lisa says.\n\n---------------------------\n\n“You are really good at driving,” Anna says, ten minutes into the middle of nowhere, clearly awed.\n\n“Thanks,” Lisa says, over *Bach, Op.6, No.6*’s languorous melody, draping through the air. Anna checks Lisa’s iPod with fascination every now and then. \n\nLisa feels more pride at that than Anna’s compliment on her driving, if only because Lisa knows she is an excellent driver. She never bypasses speed limits by more than five miles, always smoothly stops and goes, and maintains control over her vehicle. Her mother had been an awful driver. She’s made points to avoid that.\n\nShe hesitates on those words. *It’s because my mother was really bad at driving, so I had to learn the right way so we wouldn’t get arrested on the way to the grocery store.* Lisa has never mentioned her family to Anna, and visa-versa. She can almost feel the tie of *coworkers-slash-friends* straining.\n\n“Here,” Anna says, and Lisa realizes it’s too late. She’s glad it’s dark and that they’re stopping, because Anna is looking down to take off her seatbelt, and she won’t see Lisa’s tight expression.\n\nLisa climbs out of the car a moment after Anna. The night is cold, and Lisa pulls her parka tighter around her, tugs at the end of her skirt. Thinks to herself, it’s too dark to see my lipstick, isn’t it? She flushes at the embarrassment that she feels annoyed over that.\n\nOut here, the sky is much more clear, and the amount of stars feels like it’s doubled. Lisa admits it’s pretty, the sight of them glittering furiously with the sort of vehemence you never saw through the city smog.\n\nLisa turns to Anna to remark on something, dealing with the cold air or the brilliance in the sky, but the words die at her lips. There is something terrifying in Anna’s expression, something with focus and intent, something passionate. It’s the sort of sentimentality Lisa has only seen in movies. The tightness of her mouth is bitterness, the crinkling of her brow sorrow, the stance of her body longing, and her eyes filled with something unreadable, undecipherable. Something distant, faraway. Something Lisa will not, cannot reach.\n\nShe thinks about how Anna draws the curtains down at night time in their office, claiming the city lights bother her. She thinks about how Anna has said how much she likes heights.\n\n“Anna,” Lisa says, an edge of desperation. Anna’s face tilts to her, and she blinks. Anna, tinted and awash in blue, night-kissed, the concealer on her nose and cheeks flaking just a little. Anna, just on the other side of the car, yet somewhere light years away. “Anna--”\n\nAnd then Anna is saying, “Look!” with jubilance, like the king seeing his daughter returned to him. “Look!” And Lisa turns around, and streaking across the sky is a ribbon of light, and it glances before it is gone. “Lisa, did you see it? Did you see it?”\n\n“Yes,” Lisa says. She thinks to herself that Anna sounds like she’s on the verge of tears. She imagines turning around and seeing her cry and asking her what is wrong, or maybe heading around the car to wipe them for her, or maybe embracing her because there are things words cannot say. Yet, she stays, face forward, cowardly.\n\n“There’s another,” Anna says, transfixed, voice wet. Lisa leans against the door, her hip digging into the handle. She watches the meteor slam through the sky, wonders what kind of sight Anna must see, looking at this. Anna says something, so hushed, that Lisa cannot make it out.\n\nShe does not ask. They stay there for hours, Anna calling out each meteor as it appears, until it is two in the morning and Lisa knows she won’t be able to stay up for that much longer. She tells Anna that, and Anna just nods, cheeks gleaming.\n\nThey climb into the car; Lisa starts the engine, turns on Bach, Op.6, No.6; she casts one look at Anna when they’re on the highway. Anna is staring at the sky, still, with something so sad and desperate that Lisa looks back forward. Yet, when she checks her rearview mirror out of habit, she realizes that her eyes have the same expression.\n\n",
"I was born in a very small town - a village really - on the coast. Our house is small and stone and sits snugly in the fields as they slope down to the sea. We live a stone's throw from the cliff edge, and so from my bedroom you can see an impressive sweep of sky and sea, and hear little sound apart from the cry of gulls and the crash of distant waves. My childhood was quiet but happy. I have no siblings and there were few children my age nearby, so I spent much of my time with my parents. They are kind, gentle people and older than most, in their seventies now even though I am only 20. Their friends say it was a miracle I was even born, and my whole life my parents have referred to me as a gift from heaven, which makes me blush. Apparently they had had another child many years ago but it had died in infancy, and they had tried to get pregnant for a long time afterwards without success. No-one even knew that my mother was carrying me until I was born, which is strange because she is a small and slim woman, and it's hard to see how she could hide a pregnancy. \n \nMy parents are both retired, and spend most of their time tending to the house and garden, or walking on the cliffs or along the beach. My father told me once that he is pulled to the sea in a way that he can't explain. He was born in our village, but moved to the city for work. He said he always knew he would come back, because living away from the coast was like constantly being short of breath, and it got worse the further away he found himself. He often didn't realise until he came home and the first lungful of salt air filled him with a strength and vitality that he had forgotten. He said that I would probably feel the same once I moved out. \n \nWhen I turned 18 I did move out, to go to college. It was my first time in a city, and I think I saw more people in the first month there than in my whole life up until that point. I loved the freshness of a new place and the thrill of meeting people, but I also felt a terrible yearning to go home, worst in the evenings and the cold winter afternoons in the weeks before christmas break. I missed the tang of salt on the air, and the silence of the evening. I missed the smell of my mother's cooking and the familiar layout of my bedroom. But what I missed most of all were the stars. With no light pollution the sky at home was as clear as glass. In the summer months my father would pour us some wine and we would lie out and gaze at the evening sky, talking and counting the shooting stars - you could always see a few if you were willing to wait. We would lie there for hours, until the air became too cold or the grass started to scratch at our backs. When I was younger I used to fall asleep and only wake as my father gently set me down in bed. He was very strong for an old man. \n \nLast summer I found myself the furthest from home that I had ever been. I took a trip with some friends to hike in the desert. We had to take a plane to get there, and it was my first time flying. It was amazing. We had to leave late at night and I will never forget the views as we broke through the clouds. It was like swimming through a sea of stars, with a floor of pink wool beneath us. It made me feel a safety that I associate with childhood. In the desert we hiked and camped for three days. The scenery was nothing like the coast and I kept expecting to feel the yearning that my father had spoken of, but I never did. \n \nIt was cloudy at first, but on our last night the sky cleared and we lay our sleeping mats around the fire to stare heavenwards. It was cool and clear, and we watched with wonder as the milky way unfurled before us. It was as if a dark curtain had slipped and behind it lay another world, much brighter than our own. As we lay there I found myself lost in the brilliance of the stars. I began to feel weightless, and the ground seemed to slip away as I was pulled gently upwards. \n \nIt felt like I was going home. \n ",
"When I was in fourth grade, my teacher assigned us a paper. The prompt was, 'Why do you think you are pulled to your bonding-place?' Most of the kids in my class wrote about their house. They wrote about their families, or some important childhood memory. One kid wrote about a football stadium, and how he would go there for every home game with his grandpa. But my paper was blank.\n\nMy teacher wasn't too concerned. It wasn't uncommon for young kids to not have a bonding-place yet. But when she explained that to me, I told her that wasn't the issue. I *had* a bonding-place. The stars.\n\n*That* made her concerned.\n\nFourth grade was almost fifteen years ago. Fifteen years of therapists, counselors, doctors, the works. It's been an absolute hell. I just want to live a normal life, but the adults around me refuse to let me. Some people accuse me of lying. Most, actually. But I'm telling the truth.\n\nIt wasn't until now that I finally got the vindication I deserved. All those years of torment and anguish, they were worth it. Because I finally got to visit the stars.\n\nWhen the aliens came to Earth, they were not there to wage war. Nor were they there to ask for help, or to form an alliance of some kind. They came seeking answers.\n\nThese aliens had developed far beyond humans; billions of years beyond us, in fact. They had the capability to test atoms to see how old they were. And as it turns out, the oldest atoms in the universe are in my body.\n\nAll of the people who ridiculed me, the people who were convinced I was crazy or lying, they finally believed me. But I don't care about them any more. Because I've escaped them. I've escaped humanity. I've escaped Earth. I've even escaped my physical form. My atoms are now spread out across the stars, a beacon for the only people who ever appreciated me; people who weren't even the same species as me. When my journey is done, they will find me, reasemble me, and we'll discover all of the universe's greatest secrets, together.\n\nI'm finally home, among the stars."
] | 5
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[WP] Atlantis resurfaces, and with it an advanced technological society and an unstoppable plague
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"\"H-help,\" she said, before collapsing into the water. I looked down, horrified, as her limp body was slowly carried away by the ocean currents. \n\n\"What the fuck was that?\" I asked my crewmate and friend, Cach. We called him Catfish, since he had always gone to eat some when we landed. \n\n\"You're asking me?\" He responded, eyes glued to the woman's body. \"We're miles out to sea and someone flops up onto our boat like a fish out of water, asks for help, and then just dies? I'm as clueless as you are!\"\n\n\"Was she part of some shipwreck?\" I asked, tearing my eyes away from the gruesome sight. \n\n\"There's been no reports of anything like that for miles around,\" our captain, Night, growled. \"There's something fishy going on here.\"\n\n\"Could we stop with the fish expressions?\" I asked, sighing. \"This is serious.\"\n\n\"I know, lad, but I've been a sailor for too long, I guess,\" he said with a wink. I groaned. They weren't taking this seriously enough at all. At that moment, the boat began to shake, and the waves to flap and undulate like some bedsheet being shaken by a gigantic mother after the wash. \n\n\"What the hell?\" Catfish asked, falling to the ground. \n\n\"I'd like to ask the same,\" I said, pointing. \"But I think I know 'what' it is, and it's certainly from hell!\" The other two turned to look at where I was pointing. They scrambled back involuntarily as they saw the huge dome, rising from the water below. As it emerged more fully from the ocean, we could see that it was a sparkling, aquamarine city, covered by a barnacle-encrusted dome that was certainly waterproof, at least if anyone were living there.\n\n\"Atlantis?\" I asked, confused.\n\n\"Normally boy, I'd scold you for seriously suggesting such a thing, but that's what it looks like to me,' Night said, eyes wide. \n\n\"I won't dispute that either,\" Catfish agreed. I squinted, trying to discern more of the bizarre sight before me, and spotted a flickering light in the distance.\n\n\"Is that... Fire?\" I asked, pointing to Atlantis. As I continued watching, I became increasingly sure that the city was burning.\n\n\"It looks like it,\" Catfish said. \"So, we're going to go over there, right? There is no way I'm leaving this alone.\"\n\n\"I'm against it,\" Night said. \"We've seen one person apparently from the city who died right in front of us, and now it's burning. It doesn't seem safe at all.\"\n\n\"If you call captain's orders, we'll mutiny,\" I said, staring at him. \"This is a city of myth and legend, I am not going to miss out on it.\"\n\n\"Fine, fine. We go, but I don't like it,\" Night conceded. He knew that we were serious; we'd known each other long enough to know when the others were joking. He got up, and moved over to the controls, looping the boat around to face Atlantis. \n\n\"This is a terrible idea,\" he muttered, before gunning the engine, shooting us off towards Atlantis.\n\n___\n\nIf you like this, then I'd beseech you(ooh fancy word) to check out my subreddit, /r/OpiWrites, where I post all of the short stories I write on here!"
] | 1
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[WP] Sometimes an octopus is just an octopus.
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"That's what my father taught me.\n\n\"Listen Rick,\"\n\n\"John.\"\n\n\"John, sometimes, an octopus is just an octopus.\"\n\n\"Dad, are you high?\"\n\nThat was his best advice, advice that I carried with me for the rest of my life. Advice that served me well in the Coast Guard when assessing situations and deciding on the best course of action.\n\nA massive tentacle slapped on the shore next to my unit as they scrambled out of place and began open firing on the maw that appeared before them like the mouth of a leviathan. They could do little but annoy it. I stepped into our van and stood at the safe, ready to open its door for what I only hoped could save my team.\n\n*\"Password?\"*\n\n\"*Ahem.* Sometimes an octopus is just an octopus. But now is not one of those times.\""
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